#Literally in tears writing this hope you know. I love him so much
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I am always thinking about the dark island trilogy journal entry things Wu writes and how much he genuinely adores all the people he cares about. He writes so fondly and lovingly about Misako and Lloyd and all the ninja and and and augh This bad boy can fit so much love in him
#I get so emotional when I think about how much they all mean to him#And how much he means to them#Literally in tears writing this hope you know. I love him so much#He was there for them all at their lowest he gave them the support they needed and they all found family in each other because of it#11 minute era will always hold a special place in my heart#For the sheer fact that it gives a lot of focus to Wu and his bond with the ninja individually#Maybe not with all of them but still#I could go on whole rants about his relationship with individual ninja they're everything to him#The thing he said in DR about how he was lonely for so long after Garmadon fell. But once he found them he's become much happier#Im sick.#wu#wu ninjago#master wu#ninjago#lego ninjago
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Actually cry so goddamn hard when I think about Shinjiro Aragaki healing and being loved and having to learn to be okay with himself and being taken care of
#writing him has just been like. OOOOWOEOEOEOOE i piss tears i cant handle this shit this gay ass shit#i came up with an idea for just like a cute short one shot i wanna do soon and hnnnghh im so emo about it#very healing its like very hard to write some of the shit im gonna be writing cuz basically#some of it is just a little too real man and while i crave the angst and the drama i am just like#AND THEN EVERYONE HOLDS HANDS AND ITS OKAY PLEASE DONT CRY PLEASE#and ive mentioned how shinji has accidentally become nb to me now because i just kinda happened to write him that way without meaning to#and now another thing im noticing is that in my fic hes kinda bpd coded#it definitely wasnt intentional but now im accepting it as truth no one can stop me#i just really need him to be happy its more important to me than anything else man i need it for me#and he needs to be gay with aki they need to kissy and i think its funny cuz even in the parts where shinji is mad at aki and pushing him#away its like. he kinda has it bad lol and its clear he feels no actual hatred towards aki but more just self deprecation because he doesnt#feel good enough and like idk i just think about their respective roles in society like#aki is an honor student star boxer hero very attractive very kind very popular got adopted by a rich family#hes going places you know meanwhile shinji is a drop out who never had a family ever hes homeless hes sketchy hes on drugs#his reputation couldnt be any worse and he just leans into it and feels he has no future and hes worthless garbage#and aki could literally have anyone he wants you know he has an army of girls pining over him but he doesnt want them#HE WANTS SHINJI AND NO ONE ELSE HE SPENDS YEARS CHASING AFTER HIM#and shinji HATES it hes trying so hard to push him away and be the crusty delinquent and make aki see how worthless he really is#but aki just doesnt stop he loves him so much makes me sick SICK#and shinji really loves him back hes like not gonna shut up ever about aki hes like either doing it in a gay ass annoyed way#or hes like âhaha omg aki is so cute though hes always trying so hard to be tough but hes just so sweet and gentle you know i hope he#doesnt push himself too hard if he got hurt id fall apart hes so silly i hope hes eating good i desire him carnallyâ#yeah sorry gamers this is just a pairing i cant be normal about they mean so much to me personally the fate of the world rests upon them
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đđ¨đŻđ đđĄđ˛ đđđŚđ¨đ§ đđđ˘đ đĄđđ¨đŤ! | fushiguro tĹji
đđ˛đ§đ¨đŠđŹđ˘đŹ: Not only are you drunk on a Friday night, but youâre a drunk, closeted succubus who is, unfortunately, under the care of the hot neighbor under your roof! Would you ruin the mood if he found out about your little secret? You donât even wanna know!
đđ¨đ§đđđ§đđŹ: Toji x afab/fem! succubus reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! reader + Toji are neighbors - age difference; reader is in late-20s + Toji is mid/late 40s - crushing/mutual pining - drug/alcohol usage - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping) - Daddy kink - sqÇitĂŻng - anal play (m! receiving) - 69 + backshots + spooning + cowgirl positions - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - creampies - praise kink - pet names (baby, doll, dollface, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie) - implied marathon sex - mention of drool/spit, tears, and cum - not proofread; will do l8r.
đđ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: 7.8k
đđŽđđĄđ¨đŤ'đŹ đđ¨đđđŹ: pulled this story out of my ass; I literally spent a whole single DAY dedicating to writing it. please enjoy, and tysm for 11.9k loveliesss â love and appreciate u all !!
â��shit.â
Thereâs no way.
âShit, shit, shit, shitââ
Of all days for this to happen.
âOh, my fucking God, not tonight!!â
Tonight was already an eventful night, with the full moon shining brighter than the stars. Life has put you so fast in a whirlwind that you canât recall the last time you permitted your body to unwind. Can you blame yourself, though? From moving to a new neighborhood and scoring a new job, things have kept you undeniably busy for the past few months. And not too mention, itâs your fault for being a bit of a hermit and lacking a drive for social interaction.Â
Thatâs precisely why your old college besties â Shoko, Utahime, and Yuki â pulled you out of your hideyhole and encouraged you to join them this Friday night to have some fun! âCâmo~n, lighten up! No more thinking about work or whatever; have some fun!â âYeah, yâknow youâre my biggest drinking buddy. Now, hurry up and share this cocktail with me!â The ladies pressure you to relax and enjoy the start of the weekend with some good drinks and delicious food. And, you hate to admit, it worked like a charm â the longer the hours went, the more you felt free as if all the weight holding you down had been lifted.
The only problem is, like all good things, that it had to end and that you had to go home. Now check this out: 1) you left your car at home because, again, you were rigorously dragged out of your abode by your college companions. 2) You were all pretty much drunk, enough for neither one of you to drive on the road. And 3) you guys are in the city, and catching a lift is not only a gamble but SUPER expensive! Guess thatâs what you get for choosing a Friday night to free-ball.
However, when hope was lost, and you wouldnât be in the comfort of your bed tonight, you received a text on your phone, and you could practically hear the angels sing in the heavens above!
Recent Message from: Neighbor Fushiguro
Yo. You home? Iâm out in the city picking up stuff for the house. Need anything?
Thank God for neighbors, am I right? The chances of someone you know being within the same vicinity of you may be low, but never zero! Did you feel bad that you texted back saying you needed a ride back to your house? Sure. Did you feel extra bad when you asked a huge favor for him to drop your friends off at the nearest hotel? âŚYeah.Â
But luckily, he didnât seem to mind. The only thing you had to endure was him teasing you about your little outing (with the help of your friends in the back of his truck) and your tipsy persona. âNever took you frâ one who drinks.â He scoffs while putting you down on your couch after slinging you over his shoulder because you complained about your feet hurting. Damn heels! âNeither one who gets drunk.â
âIt wasnât my fauuu~lt,â you whine with a significant stretch while your neighbor roams around. âMy fwiends, they forced me toâhicâto do itâŚâ
âMm, do your âfwiendsâ always push you over to do things?â He shouts from the kitchen; you can hear cabinets opening and closing.Â
âWhen youâre the youngest of the group, they do.â
âWell, maybe I gotta get to know âem so they can push you into goinâ out more. And maybe you can quit avoidinâ me when I invite you over.â
âI donât try to avoid you!â You sprout defensively. âAnd quit teasing me, Toji! Youâre supposedâta be on my side; Iâm the victim here.â
âYeah, yeah, whatever ya say.â Heavy footsteps draw nearer to where you are, and your heavy eyelids open to see a hand stretching towards you with a glass of water. âIâm here takinâ care of ya now, arenât I, lilâ victim?â
A smile pulls your lips as you take the glass. âThank you,â you express before a sip, and your neighbor lifts your feet to sit on the cushion beside you.Â
âYâre welcome,â he places your legs on his lap, grabbing the remote to turn on the television.Â
You havenât been in this neighborhood long enough to say you have friends. Donât get it wrong; everyone you contacted has been lovely and friendly, and some have opted to help with your move! But aside from the casual greetings in the morning or the nods of acknowledgment, you barely know people who scratch the surface of acquaintanceship. Not to mention, itâs your fault for being a bit of a hermit.Â
âŚBut, there is one neighbor you could say youâre pretty close with. Someone nice. Someone dependableâŚSomeone attractive that youâre on a mission not to stare too much.
Toji Fushiguro lives two houses down from you across the street. Remember I mentioned you had people assist with your move? This widowed, middle-aged man was one of the nice handymen who aided you and your friends with your boxes and heavy furniture. You remember it like yesterday, seeing this brawny man stroll up your driveway on the sunniest day of June. You nearly mistook him for an Olympic athlete.Â
âSo, yâre the one movinâ âround here?â The calm baritone of his voice was unforced. âNice to know thereâs a cute face on the newbie. Need any help?â Itâs how he asked â so sultry and alluring you almost spaced out before nodding absentmindedly to his request for aid, hoping he didnât notice you watch how the scar of his lip moved as he spoke. âWelcome to the neighbârhood, kid.â Rarely do you have butterflies running amok in the pits of your guts, but they were challenging to deal with that day.Â
And it doesnât get any better from that day forward. No matter how hard you wished not to run into this immediate crush of yours, he would somehow wheedle his way into your path. It started slow, exchanging hellos or good mornings whenever he left for work or you took the garbage out. Then came the âWant me to do yâr lawn frâ ya?â or the âHouse down the streetâs havinâ a little barbecue, wanna get to know people?â You thought moving away from the busy city life would die things down. However, Toji making your head race every chance he gets wasnât a move you could envisage. Think about how you felt the day he asked for your number to keep in contact âfrâ emergenciesâŚor if ya need anythinâ, shoot me a call,â how your heart jumped to your throat! Oh, the girls never stopped teasing you when you toldâŚ
Nonetheless, you canât deny how much help heâs been. Well, outside of that, just being a great neighbor all around. Besides being an absolute succor, heâs an outlet you can come to for anything. Whether for the house, the community, or just personal conversations, Tojiâs someone you can admitlingly say youâd depend on. With trust built from day one, sharing pieces of yourselves to break down barriers, itâs safe to say that he is undoubtedly a friend who made your decision to move a worthy risk.
âŚYet, whatâs even more risky is being alone with him, something you do everything you can to avoid. Why? Look at him! Would you trust yourself to be anywhere with this man alone? Of course not! This is why tonight is the riskiest night youâve ever bestowed upon your drunk self.
âYou got somthinâ to say?â
âHuh?â You perk to reality, anxiousness filling you once you realize you had been staring at the man. âN-No, Iâm sorry.â
He stifles a snort, grabbing your feet to massage them from the pain. âOh, wanna act quiet. You were all bubbly in the passenger seat with yâre friends. Now yâre all shy because yâre stuck with me, huh?â
âT-Thatâs not true!â A lie; he was right on the mark. Your heart has been beating nonstop once he sat next to you. âItâs just thatâŚIâm sorry for making you drive and pick me and the girls up.â
âNah, donât apologize,â his focus is on your feet as he kneads and rubs the sole of your foot. âTold ya I was around the area doing some shoppinâ, so pickinâ ya up on my way back was easy.â
You take another sip of your water. âShopping?âÂ
âMm, my kids are down here for the weekend, so I had to go out frâ a bit and grab shit frâ my daughter.â Ah, yes, Toji is a father; you remember him telling you about his two children in college, a junior and a sophomore. âTheyâre at the house right now; saw âem after I dropped stuff at the house before bringinâ ya home.âÂ
You hum. âSorry for stealinâ you from them for a bit.â
He shakes his head with a humorless laugh. âPlease, they probably donât even know Iâm gone. Theyâre big kids. Plus,â your breath hitches when emerald eyes trail to you. âNow I get to finally have you all to myself, no curvinâ me and whatever this time.âÂ
âIâm not tryinâ to curveâŚâ
âYeah, yeah.â He goes back to massaging your feet.
ââŚThanks again, Toji. I really appreciate it.â
âNo problem, sweetheart.â Your abdomen flexes at the use of the nickname. âYou know I always got youâŚSay, did you hit yâr head somewhere?â
You blink, eyebrows furrow. âNo? Why?â
He points to his temple. âBecause I see like a lump right here.â
You mirror his movements, your hand touching the spot heâs pointing. And your fingertips meet with a lump on a location that sparks too much familiarity. You gasp aloud and cover the lump with your hand, the other covering your other temple.Â
Oh, no.
Black eyebrows knit together. âYou okay?â
Play it cool! âY-Yeah, yeah, Iâm fine! Youâre right; I probably hit my head somewhere while out.â You take this time to remove your legs off the comfort of Tojiâs lap and stand up from the couch. âIâll put something on it to stop the swelling.â You can also sense something aching down your lower back at that moment. Oh, hell no!!
âYa sure? Need me frâ anyââÂ
BZZZZ!! BZZZZ!!
Tojiâs cut off from the vibration of his phone in his jeans, pulling the device out to see that someone called âMegumiâ was calling. Good, a distraction!
âNâNo, no, Iâm good from here.â You say through gritted teeth, the alcohol taking effect and making your stance a little buzzy to uphold. âJ-Just stay here, Iâll be back!â You donât even wait for his approval, turning on your heel and heading out of the living room to the stairs. Your body feels wobbly with every step you take, but you donât pay it any mind because you can feel the lumps beneath your palms increasing. âGod, please, not now, not todayâŚ!â
You march as fast as you can to your bedroom, nearly stumbling on the floor as you haul ass to your bathroom door. You do a terrible job watching your footing fall after rushing to turn the lights on, and stuff from the counter falls because of the impact. But you didnât care, shuffling up so you could look at the mirror. And the sight you see fills you with immediate dread.
Horns are the first thing you see from either side of your head; the tips curl as if to form a crown but point to the ceiling. Your eyes are no longer human-like, pupils shaped like slits as if morphing into a reptile. And your ears get horizontally pointier. ââŚshit.â
You then lift your skirt and tear a hole in your pantyhose above the hem of your panties, and your fear quadruples at the sight of something long and slithery protruding out of the hole. A long tail with a pointy end; you lose your mind. âShit, shit, shit, shitââ
Itâs then you realize why this is happening: you had forgotten to take your daily supplements that are meant to subjugate these features of yourself. Youâve been taking them for the longest time before you moved into this neighborhood, so youâre used to your typical human facade. Now, seeing these parts of yourselves is the very LAST thing you need right now!Â
And then something hits you, an unsettling feeling that youâre too scared to confirm. Your eyes travel down to your shirt, your hands hesitantly pulling the bottom tucked into your skirt and lifting to reveal your navel. You then tug the top of your skirt to expose a spot youâre honed in on the mirror. And the urge to scream grows tenfold once you see a black marking on the lower part of your belly.Â
A womb tattoo!?!?Â
âOh, my fucking God, not tonight!!â
âYO, HEY!â And just when it couldnât get worse, you hear Toji coming up the stairs and beelining for your open bedroom door. Wait, noâ âI heard screaminâ and a big âboom,â you alright? Where are yââ
Your neighbor stops dead in his tracks once he appears in front of the bathroom opening; his concerned expression shifts to an immediate neutral deadpan. He stares at you, and you stare back at him, the silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. A ring fills your eardrums, dissociating from this entire scene and all its complications.
You want to cry. Maybe scream, throw up, or just straight up die on the spot.Â
Because this wasnât the night for someone to find out youâre a succubus.
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
ââŚâ
ââŚâ
ââŚSo, what are you?âÂ
Not even concealing your face in your pillow can hide you from the eventual questions of Toji, who sits idly on the corner of your bed. You cringe internally, never thinking this dilemma would befall you. The point of moving was to turn a new page in your life and leave the past behind with the city. Now, you are shriveling on top of your bed like a moody teenager, and your neighborhood crush is here to witness your depression.
ââŚWhat happened to your phone call?â
âIt was my kid. I told him to lock the door since Iâll be out a little longer. Donât try and deflect,â his blunt answer has you descend further to your inner turmoil. âHow come I never seen these horns before?â
You sigh heavily; thereâs no point in trying to divert now. ââŚI take supplements that hinder any features of my succubus appearance so I can look like an average human for the rest of the day.â
âDaily?â He sees you nod through his peripheral. âSuccubusâŚthe hellâs that?â
âBasically, Iâm a demon thatâŚthatâŚâ Yeah, no, letâs not finish that. âNever mind.â
âBullshit. Tell me.âÂ
âD-Donât worry about it, itâs notââ
âLook here,â he speaks to you with a stern tone, a hand coming to your waist to shove you a bit. âI went ahead and picked yâre drunk butt up, made sure ya donât puke up a storm, and now yâre here looking way different from before. The least you could do is explain.â
God, to be lectured by a human â totally humiliatingâŚ! ââŚIâm a demon that gets energy fromâŚseââŚ.sexu, uhhâŚâŚâŚ..sexualactivitywithhumanbeings.â
The silence that trails after your ramble is beyond awkward.Â
âOh.â
âŚ
âOh.â
God, just kill me right now!
The older man forces a cough. âSo, youâŚhave sex every day?â You can practically sense the tiny hint of discomfort from prompting that question.
âW-Well, I used to when I was younger. But I havenât reallyâŚdone it in a couple of years.â Jesus Christ, why is it so embarrassing to admit to someone other than yourself? This is the literal worst!Â
âIs that bad?â
âItâs, uhhâŚIt can be?âÂ
âSo, why havenât you done it?â
âBecauseâŚ!â You snap your face out of your pillow and finally allow yourself to breathe correctly. âI justâŚI donât have time like I used to anymore, and using my powers to make people forget afterward can get tiring. Also, the more times I do it, the more my drive gets intense from the last. The desire of a succubus can be dangerous, you know? And since itâs been a while since Iâve let my powers out, Iâm sure itâs nastier than everâŚâ
ââŚWell,â Toji turns to face you. âHave you ever had the urge recently?â
âI-â Woah. That question came out of nowhere, almost answering it without proper consideration. âWhâWhat do you mean by thatâŚâ
He shrugs. âLikeâyou know what I meanâlike, even though you try to suppress it, do you still have those urges to doâŚya know, it?â
Things get a little uncomfortable here; now you wish you kept your face in that pillow. Tojoâs gaze on you is distinguished â gentle yet stern, matching his demeanor. He's calm and calculating and is waiting for your response to his strangely personal question.Â
âIâŚI, I donât know.â It was another lie.
âWhyâre you lyinâ?â
âIâm notâŚ!â Toji clicked his teeth with a face.
âFine, answer me this then. Have ya ever thought of doinâ it since ya moved here?âÂ
Yup, this question was far worse than the other. His words echo inside your noggin, bewildered with every syllable relaying. And the widowed man lifts his brow from the lack of an instantaneous answer. You open your mouth, but words fail to aid you, your tail shying away behind your shadow. âI-IâŚI donâtââ
âEver thought of me?â
âToji!â You shout defensively. Sure, it mightâve been out of line to ask. However, itâs the fact that heâs breaking your exterior with every question â because of how on-the-mark he is. You could never prepare yourself for that inquiry, the heat on your face growing more unbearable. How could he know of the frenzy he puts you through just for existing?Â
âIâm not dumb.â You peep Toji, turning his torso and facing his entire front in your direction. âYou think I donât notice how often you try to push me off when I invite ya over or know when yâre lookinâ at me when you think Iâm not awareâ?â He dents the bed with his added weight, and you forget to breathe, watching him inch closer. âOr act all shy and cute when I got you to myself?âÂ
You gulp, your brain short-circuiting at the feeling of Tojiâs palm on your thigh. There have been countless nights where youâve thought of your neighbor more than once, indulging in fantasies you could never speak of to a soul, especially Toji himself. To let the man know of the dirty things youâd want him to say to you, the names you wish him to call you, the erotic things youâd like him to do to you â death is the only option necessary not to let that happen. Unfortunately, he seems to have a good idea now that heâs cornered you like this, and youâre too stunned to utter a word.
âItâs okay, though,â he whispers low now that heâs close to your face, and you have to hold back on letting out a yelp when his hand comes to hold your face, his index finger toying with your sensitive earlobe. ââCuz I love it when yâre all timid, canât even look me in the faceâŚLike now.â
You try to avert away from him, but his thumb brings your chin back to him. âToji, please,â his name feels forbidden to say all of a sudden.Â
âTell me ânoâ.â His nose brushes the tip of yours, and you chew your lip. âIâll stop right now and leave, let you deal with this yâreselfâŚOr,â he ghosts to your ear, and you quiver. âIâll stay with you and treat you to what yâve been scared to ask frâ.â
âToji, wait,â Fuck, you canât remember the last time you had your ears so keen, his breath brushing it enough to compel you to meltdown.
âSay âno,â princess.â Youâre locked under his forest-green orbs, and you swear you could hear your heart hammering your chest. âOr Iâll treat you right tonight.â
Perplexed eyes canât move anywhere else, and your lips are wet from licking them without knowing. Is this really happeningâŚ? An inquisition you had no time to answer for yourself once Toji closes the gap, centimeters nearer with every millisecond.
IâŚcanâtâŚ
His face draws near, and your eyes reflex to close.Â
I donâtâŚwant toâŚ
Toji pulls you in for a gentle kiss; your thoughts radio silent after the contact of his scarred lips on yours. No shot. Your neighbor was kissing you right now â thereâs no way!? This had to be a dreamâŚ! This is truly a wild night: not only are you tipsy to the noggin, but your neighborhood crush has found out your secret, and now youâre kissing that exact crush in your room?? Your muscles go tense at what is occurring.Â
He peppers your lips with kisses, forced to catch up with him as he claims your lips, a palm snaking to the back of your head to keep you steady. He licks your bottom lip, chewing gently to prompt the softest gasps out of your mouth. âCâmon, baby,â he coos to your sensitive ears. âRelax witâ me.â You nearly melt at the lick of your helix as his free hand courses from your chest to your waist. The brush of his fingers onto your tail makes you jolt.Â
âToji, wait,â you mutter under your breath as he nibbles on your pointy ear, your hands gripping the back of his black wife beater. âD-Donât; Iâm so sensiâNmmmâŚ!â Jesus, the moan you held back! Toji trails his mouth to your chin down to your neck to suck on your skin. And your lower half throbs harder. âAhhhâŚhahhhâŚâ
He returns his lips to yours; this time, his tongue runs on your teeth vigorously to seek entry. You submit after a chew to your bottom lip, whimpering as the older man inserts his wet muscle to greet yours. Surreal, isnât it, to be tongued down by your neighbor? You donât know whether itâs the alcohol, the twitches between your inner thighs, or the flick of his tongue and the sound of his purrs that have your face getting hotter.Â
And fuuuuuuck, heâs such a good kisser â scratch that, heâs an AMAZING kisser! Youâre practically turning into putty in the palm of his hands as he lips you, tilting his head to a proper position with a soft push to your face as he deepens the kiss. He sucks on your tongue, and you mewl, helplessly quivering when he teases the muscle with nibbles. Your waist has a mind of its own while it sways involuntarily, rocking as you sink into the zealous kiss. Heâs not overpowering you in any way; if anything, heâs so overwhelmingly comforting, his hand caressing your cheek tenderly, and soft noises of lips smacking and breaking apart bounce one after the other.
Then, you shrill unexpectedly. ââŚ!! Mmahhh! T-Tojiii, d-donâtâdonât touchâŚHaahhhâŚâ
âOh? Well, lookie here.â Your ears perk at Tojiâs chuckle. Unbeknownst to you, distracted by the intense kiss, your neighbor sneaks his hand under your skirt and touches your private zone shielded by your pantyhose, fingers pressing up on your vulva area. âAll we did is kiss, and ya already got your panties wet?â
Embarrassed? Of course, itâs been so long since you were touched like this and out of practice. Now, your repressed emotions start to crumble out of their straightened form the more Tojiâs middle finger rubs on your panties. And letâs not even mention your thighs motioning to ride on the digit, your dignity starting to disintegrate. âOhhh, TojiâŚâ
âMmm? What is it, sweetie?â He nuzzles to your neck after licking and sucking on your chin. âFeelinâ good down there?â He curls his middle and forefinger to push. âGot ya all excited?â He receives a confirmed hum. âTell me how yâre feelinâ.â
You gulped thickly, your breathing shaking. âI-Iâm feelingâshitâŚâ he laughs lowly at your swearing. âNnnm! Youâre making me feelâŚso hot.â
âI can tell, youâre twitchinâ like crazy right on my fingertips.â His fingers move into a circular motion, and your mouth goes agape. âFuck, manâŚHey, hold on, I wanna do somethinâ.â
Toji removes his fingers from under your skirt before you can tell, the heat between your legs going tepid as he withdraws from your figure to lay his back on the bed. But before that, he unzips and loosens his jeans to his butt. A noticeable tent of his boxer briefs has your lips locked to each other, and your eyes widen when he subtracts the material. Just when you thought this night couldnât get any more crazier, you are awake to witness the display of Tojiâs erection in real-time.Â
How long has it been since youâve seen a real-life, living, and breathing dick before your eyes? You honestly canât recall that; the responsibilities of human life have made you grow numb to your demon necessities that it no longer feels innate. However, the sight of your crushâs solid, girthy, excited cock is marveling. How your mouth waters as you ogle at it is borderline humiliating, eyes glued to the uncut tip.
âLike what ya see?â He asks smugly, kicking his jeans and briefs off and slapping his thigh. âCâmere, mama.â Oh, fuck, the quirk of your insides was unavoidable at his comment, primarily as he guides you closer to him. âLetâs warm up.â You yelp as he effortlessly moves your legs to where you straddle him. He pushes your skirt up to your waist, and you can hear the tear from your pantyhose. His thumb comes to slide your panties to the side, and he whistles. âDamn, lookinâ all pretty and wet frâ me.âÂ
Itâs either the fact that Tojâs dick is inches in front of your face or your bare pussy out in the air in front of him; either one of the two has your mind going in a whirlwind. And it all comes to a standstill the moment you sense something wet and firm glide across your labia, and it takes everything in you not to tremble. âMmm, oh, fuck,â he groans after licking your cunt, throwing in another lazy one to have you holler. âItâs been so longâŚShit.âTojiâs hands curl from your legs to cup your asscheeks, keeping your butt near him to lap his tongue around your chasm. You whine as he licks you down, your teeth clattering at the sensation.Â
Oh, my God, your head begins to ache. It feels so good, your body finally coming back to the groove of things as you move your butt around. The man under you quickly latches his mouth onto you, a firm grip on your ass to keep you in place for him to service you. Speaking of service, your eyes flick to the erect limb before you, your mouth salivating with the run of your tongue across your teeth. Fuck, it looks so good; you admire internally before inching your face close to the length, your head getting dizzier from the sheer size and musk. DamnitâŚI wanna taste him so badâŚ!!
âGo on, dollface,â Toji gives your butt a playful smack. âI know ya need this bad.âÂ
God, heâs so right â you need this; thereâs no point in denying anymore. You blow on it before placing a tender kiss, noticing how it pulsates as your hand wrings around the shaft. You lick your lips before pecking at the uncircumcised tip, and Tojiâs hold on you goes tighter. Heâs sensitive, you note. Adorable. You stick your tongue out to swirl around the cockhead, bathing it with your saliva before you inhale it with a delighted hum, gradually warming up your loosened jaw.
Fuck, the taste of a cock â something that felt nostalgic the moment he graced your tastebuds. Your eyes water a bit, trembles rocking your figure as Toji sucks on your wetness, and every inch you intake fuels the haze that fogs your brain. You stroke and suck him simultaneously, a forgotten method that rekindles now in this moment. You coat him with your spit the more you relax your jaw, slurping him unapologetically as if a different part of yourself takes over.Â
On the other hand, Toji feels the same way. Itâs been way too long for the widowed man since the last time he has been intimate with someone, let alone have a bare ass right in front of him. Itâs no secret that heâs had the hots for you once you moved here, but having you on top of him like this is like something out of his wet dreams. The way you murmur cutely as you suck his dick turns him on so bad, a guilty pleasure come true as he drinks your nectar off your damp naked folds. His tongue teases around the entrance of your vagina before pushing it in, fucking your opening with his wet muscle. You cry on his girth, your tail cringing in the air from the stimulation. He spots it and grabs it from the base; how your lower half jolts to the grasp is humorously darling to him. So cute.
The minutes go longer as you two keep pleasing each other, and a soft whimper escapes your lips when you release Toji from your lips, lips plastering long and sweet kisses on his shaft as you massage the tip. Your other hand palms and kneads his ballsack, the jerk of his thighs rewarding to see, so you increase the pace of your hand.
ââThhh, nmm!â Toji curses from behind, sluggishly licking from clit to your slit while succumbing to your touch and mouth. âShiiit, just like that, baby, suck me off like tâMmngh! Christ, Iâm gonna..fffuckinâ cumâŚâ
But then, you remove yourself from Tojiâs member, the cold air instantly blanketing him. Green eyes blink as you move off of his lying body, observing you bending over with your face to the cold sheets.
âToji,â you plea to him desperately, hooded eyes shining eagerly. âPlease, I need itâŚHere,â you spread your ass, fully exposing your slit wet from your fluids mixed with his saliva. Jesus, you were heathing as if you were in heat. âDo it here, I need it insideâŚ!â
You had the man shook; the cogs in his mind stopped working briefly. The picture of you presenting yourself like this to him was unexpected, but goddamn, did it turn him on astronomically! Toji stands on his knees and advances to you, removing his tank top and discarding it to the floor. âYeah? You want it that bad?â You nod impetuously. âWords, sweetie. Need you to tell me what to do.â
âToji, pleeeaseâŚ!â You wiggle your ass until he cusps it, kneading your flesh lovingly to the point that your tail curls around his forearm. âPlease, put it in, I wanna feel itâŚ!â
âYeah, is that what my princess wants?â You and Toji bite your lips when he aligns his tip to your inner labia, teasing you with grinding motions. âDoes my demon baby want Daddy to mess yâr insides that bad?â
Oh, weâre playing that card, too? Holy shit, you were getting so wet from this! âYess, Daddy, pleasee! Mess me up with that dick, wanna be filled up right noowwâŚ!â
He canât hide the proud grin. âGood girl. Here,â Toji begins to push the cockhead to you, and your lips flatten at the wince of pain that accompanies the push. âStay still, and lemme reward you,â his hips move slowly in your direction, you grip the sheets to prepare yourself, and your nerves are dialed to a plane of exhilaration you canât regulate. Oh my God, is this happening? Heâs gonna fuck me? So many thoughts cloud your mind, too excited and anxious for whatâs to come because itâs been so. Damm. Long. Howâs it gonna feel? Is your body ready enough? How does Toji feel about this; is he just as nervous as you aâ
Your train of thought is brought to an abrupt halt at the sensation of Tojiâs tip finally inserting itself into your vagina, too absentminded that your open mouth couldnât say a word. Oh, fuck itâs in, itâs in! Your eyes widen, your muscles tense, and your voice struggles to cry. The older man continues to add himself leisurely, the length sundering your slit and stretching your opening as you take him inch by inch. Your back arches instinctively, wailing silently as you can feel the foreign limb intruding your tightness, quick quirks of your frame as he rubs your velvety texture. Ohhhh, my GodâŚ!!
When he slowly starts to rut into you, recurring waves of rapture hit your nerves every. Single. Time! Youâre entire body is rocked to the core with every short yet gentle pound; the feeling of Tojiâs veiny cock scrapping your channel has you shivering. And once heâs encouraged to push his entire member until the very hilt, you yelp aloud when the tip kisses your womb. ââOooh??!â
ââMmngh!â Your quick spasm surprises Toji. âOhhh, shit, there it is. Hmm? Is this where ya want me, mama? Want me rightâŚhere?â He snaps his hips swiftly, the rushed movement and hit to your cervix knocks you winded. And another, you keep wringing his shaft acutely. âAhhn, God fucking damn iâIisshhffuck, fuck, I canât, gonnaâŚHnghh!â
Tojiâs body shudders above you, bucking into your warmth with a jittery pattern. The prolonged reaction of his orgasm claims him now, succumbing to the silky, tight texture and how well youâre grasping onto his girth. He comes inside you, moaning as he ejaculates earlier than expected. You sense it, humming to the immediate filling. So warm, so full of his cock already that your toes curl.Â
And Jesus Christ, it felt so. Fucking, Good! You were no longer drunk from the alcohol; now, you were intoxicated by the prowess and pleasure of Tojiâs dick.Â
âHah, haaaah, fuck,â he throws his head back with a hiss, his abdomen relaxing from the earlier flex. Then, your tail glides up from his abs, feeling up on his skin and roaming on his happy trail. He snickers at your feline-like comportment, âHeh, actinâ all cute now that you got what ya wanted, huh?â You say nothing, bashful to his words, while your tail curls up to his chin. âDonât go quiet on me now, dollface; I heard you squeaking and moaninâ seconds ago.â
Toji then returns to rut into you despite recovering from his climax, furled to have you shrieking uncontrollably for him. The smacks of his pelvis recoil the flesh of your ass, his come stuffed inside you now glued to his erection as he rocks into you balls-deep. âMmmm, yeah, thatâs right, baby,â he grabs your tail and wraps it around his hand to pull; you scream louder, and your vaginal walls clamp tighter than ever. âArch more frâ me, enjoy meânmmâŚ!âfuckinâ you real good.â
The pull of your tail makes your senses hypersensitive, perturbed by the stress of it being pulled, yet the enjoyment you feel from it is too inexorable to comprehend. Coherent sentences double down to undecipherable babbles, ââDaahh, hoohhfuucâD-Daddyyy, DaddyyyâŚ!!â Tears well up in your eyes as he inflicts blows to your ass, the pain too quick to prepare for yet the sting enough to make you rigid. ââToo much, ish tâoo muuuchâŚ!â
Another smack to your butt, and you howl once again. âHuh, ya say that, but yâre milkinâ my cock like crazy.â He bends down to remove your hands that try to hide your face and horns with the pillow. âWhat, ya donât like this? Hmm? Want me to stop?âÂ
âNo, nooo!!â You shook your head immediately; your vision blurred for a few seconds. âI loveee iit, I love this, love Daddyâs diickâAhaaa!! MoreâŚI want moreee!â Fuck, this is bad; any more than this, and youâll be addicted for sure.
âGood,â he whispers to your ears. Good Lord, you werenât going to survive. âBecause I ainât done witâ ya yet, princess.â
Before you can register his sentence fully, Toji straightens and lays on his side behind you, lifting your leg to create a suitable angle. He then plunges into you harder and faster, the different positions helping the sporadic cadence achieve deeper penetration while scraping your upper wall with ease. At this point, your body is too hot and sticky to care about anything else outside this room; your head pounding and too misty, your senses corrupted by the constant pokes to your cervix and the increasing haze that you donât feel human anymore. Your succubus roots flourish, drool escapes your lips, and wanting nothing but this feeling to remain ceaseless.
âGahh, ohhhDaddyyy, ahhahh,â eyes roll to your skull at the brush of your sweet spots. âShhoo good, I fweel shoo goooodâŚ! Harder, hardeeerr!âÂ
ââKhhck, goinâ as hard as I fuckinâ can!!â Toji kisses your cheek after a lick, chewing on it after hearing you mewl submissively. âJesus, this pussy, out of this fuckinââNnnghâŚworld.â
You turn to him and claim his lips, and he reciprocates into your steamy kiss. Vulgar tongues exchange spit and encroach on each otherâs mouth, and you helplessly suck on Tojiâs after he shoves it, your puffy lips intaking the attractive noises he makes. And you slither a hand down to your clitoris to swipe erratically while your tail goes around Tojiâs waist and curves into the crevice of his ass. Suddenly, Toji stiffens at the pointy end of your tail, tickling his anus, and the raven-haired man gasps at the insertion. Too stunned to speak, he can only move his hips rapidly, his white-ringed shaft digging deep into you with the help of stimulating his prostate.Â
ââTaahhh, y-you, lilâ minxâŚ!â He breaks the kiss and bites your lip to hear you whimper. âTryinâ ta make me cum again?â
You nod, breathing heavily. âOhhh, Daddy, Iâm so closeâŚ! Gonna come!â
âMe too, mama, me tooâŚâÂ
Hot moans and groans fly out of each otherâs mouths, bodies stuck to each other as you both chase for release. Everything feels so fast, so hot, happening all at once; all you can think about is the grinding presses you push up on your delicate clit. Fuck, fuck! Itâs coming, itâs comingâŚ!â
Then, it arrives. Your cunt, aching for the climax, receives the crescendo youâve been aching for this entire time. The walls of your vulva contract around Tojiâs member, milking and wringing him as you come loose to your grounding. A clear liquid exerts out of your urethra, showering out to stain your panties, torn pantyhose, and bedsheets, your breathing losing its steadiness and falling to a jagged tempo. The same goes for Toji, who falls into his peak along with you; your fluttering folds force him to submit and release his second load into you with a hiss. The older manâs heaving frame keeps bucking into you until every drop fills you to the brim, burrowing his face deep into your neck to rest as the shocks rock you both.
Finally, everything goes quiet. The cozy atmosphere pulls you out of your heightened elevation and lays you down with silent clarity. Both you and Toji, sweaty and sticky all over, are still linked to each other as the high dissipates. Shuddering figures begin to calm down and fall at ease with the tranquility.
Toji kisses your neck, and you croon until he comes to lay his lips on yours for a tender peck, then on your soft cheek and your temple. He then removes his flaccid bulge, white fluids oozing out of your hole. âDamn, that was good,â he mutters breathlessly. âHmm, how ya feelââ
The onyx-haired man couldnât finish his question because of the sudden change of positions you abruptly conducted. He now lays on his back with you straddling him; the calm tone switched to an unexpected spiking mood.Â
You then hand grab his dick and arrange it back to your raised hips. Viridian orbs widen. Wait. The tip meets your labia once more before you descend it down. What the fâhold onâ And then, his cock is swallowed back inside your wetness, and Toji grits his teeth.
 âSh-Shit, sweetie,â Tojiâs hands come to your waist. âWhatâs up, arenât yââ
âSorry, Toji,â the man surveys with confusion, watching you strip off and throw your shirt somewhere. Your naked chest is now out for him to see, and his breath hitches when you place your hands on his pectorals while a span of bat-like wings springs out from your back. ââŚThat wasnât enough.â
Wasnât enough?? He repeats with furrowed brows, noticing the half-lidded, lustful expression and the sharp dents of your canines. Then, it hits him:Â
âThe desire of a succubus can be dangerous, you know? And since itâs been a while since Iâve let my powers out, Iâm sure itâs nastier than everâŚâ
âŚOh, shit. âWait, we can talk aboutââ You get your answer once you bounce on his cock without notice, Toji nearly choking on his tongue. Nope, no room for prattling.
âYou let out so much, made my mind go so crazy,â you grind your hips on his pelvis, squeezing his limp cock while it gets firmer and firmer. âFeel so goodâŚMore, I want moreeeâŚâ
âC-Câmon now, baby, canât we take a break for a minute at leastââYou bring your face an inch away from his.
âDaddy,â your neighbor shudders at the gentle kiss you place under his chin. âPlease take care of me like you promised, âkay?â
Your gaze lured him in, a trap he was foolish enough to fall for. Because now, heâs stuck under your bow as you begin to inflict an inescapable rhythm, rebounding on his erection until the base meets your folds. Choked groans suppressed by Toji, but take his lips with yours, enforcing a loving yet salacious spell with your satisfied moans. Now, your crush realizes you werenât the meek, adorable neighbor he dotes on.Â
Tonight, he was yours to play like a fiddleâŚAnd shame on him for getting way more turned on than he should be!
Wow. Guess Iâm dyinâ tonight.
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
I should be fuckinâ dead right now.
Toji knew something was up when his eyelids opened, and his emerald eyes scanned the ceiling, instantly recognizing that he wasnât in his master bedroom. The rays of sunshine are blocked from the curtains, yet the light of day crawls in and basks the room in a low glow. Chirps of birds outside greet him on the basking of a new autumn day, lying comfortably in the cold, silky sheets of the bed.
He wakes to a bit of a headache, mentally and physically groggy. Attempts to move are already tricky and aches all over his body keep him grounded in the mattress. Ugh, feel like Iâve lost all feelinâ in my legs; the man canât even lift one leg without a grimace. And even his arms are challenging, one so oddly heavy as if itâs nailed down.Â
âFuck, man.â His first words of the day are a curse, irritated by the drum of his head. He tries to lift himself; again, itâs not possible, agitating the man even more. And why the fuck is my arm so heaâ
He doesnât finish his sentence â the answer reveals itself once he turns his head to the left.Â
He sees you, surprised to view you in your natural form still. Horns have grown a little larger, yet still small enough for you to rest your cheek on his shoulder. You were sound asleep, faint snores picked up by his ears as he examined your face at ease with a peaceful slumber. Nude, the both of you, a hand wrapped around his left arm to stick close to you while the other is stationed at his chest, your bat wings shriveled together to not get damaged. And judging by the snake-ish feeling, your tail was curled around his bare thigh.Â
Strangely innocent to see after the events of last night flash into Tojiâs recollection, funny to match such a lewd scenario to such a sweet face. He stifles a laugh, placing his right hand on the vulnerable one on him, his thumb caressing your knuckles as he grasps your fingers. Suddenly, some of the soreness he harbors feels light â glad I ainât dead, I guess.
Your eyes jit behind your eyelids, a soft groan as you suddenly move and scrunch your face. Finally, your drowsy eyes sheepishly flicker open. Lidded gaze fighting the spell of sleep with every bat of your eyes.
âMorninâ, gorgeous.â Toji greets you.
ââŚâ
ââŚâ
In real-time, Toji watches your somnolent morph into a gradual display of mortification. Heâs a little envious to see you spring up with no strain on your body, wings batting out of their relaxed state, and your hand still with his. âT-Toji??â You question directly, eyes surveying the nude neighbor in your bed, doing everything in your power to ignore the fact that youâre naked as well. Speaking of, you notice the subtle pink glow of your womb tattoo, and anxiety spikes to a high. âIâuhhâIâm so so sorry for last night! Sorry you had to bring me back home, and I didnât mean to act weirdly on you withâOoof?!â
âRelax,â he cuts you off by pulling you back to his lying frame, his left hand now free to snake on your shoulder. âDonât talk so fast; my headâs poundinâ like crazy.â
You blink aimlessly, awkward now that youâre fully aware youâre in this manâs embrace. You canât help recalling what transpired last night, suddenly feeling squeamish. ââŚYou okay?â
âI feel like my lifeâs been drained by my dick,â he answers bluntly, adding more weight to your embarrassment. âWakinâ up to a pretty face who nearly killed me with their pussy isnât somethinâ Iâd expect.âÂ
ââŚâŚsorry.â
âItâs alright,â calloused fingers glide and intertwine with his yours, stroking your thumb with his. âHad a good time either way. Wild, but good.â
âReallyâŚ?âÂ
âReally.â You probably shouldnât have peered up to see him look your direction. Albeit exhausted, his handsome face and sleepy grin ignite the heat on your cheeks. And your stomach flips, hearing a laugh when you meekly avert your gaze away. âHow many times did we do it?â
ââŚNot sure,â long enough for my womb tattoo to be blatant.Â
âMe either. Does that happen often?â
âSometimes? I guess itâs because I havenât done it for a long time, so I wentâŚoff the rails because of the intensity.â
âNoted, because I never felt so old until now. I probably pulled somethinâ.â
ââŚ.Sorry.â
âYâre good,â Toji scoffs before moving to place a soft kiss on your forehead, and your heart skips the tighter his hand holds your hand. âTell ya what, I can help you with that cycle of yours, probablyâŚtwice a month, so it doesnât get too crazy like last night. And donât use yâre powers or some shit to make me forget, either. I donât wanâ that.â
You lift your face from his shoulder, the heat spreading to your ears. âYou donât have to do that, Toji, I wouldnâtââ
âNah, Iâm down; itâs what neighbors for. Besides, it finally gives me a reason to make ya interact with me more.â Again, his smug smirk causes knots in your stomach. âLike the sound of that, mama? Let Daddy take care of you?â
Your lips quiver, and you hide your face back onto his shoulder. The rumble of his laughter worsens the butterflies in your stomach, and your tail squeezes on his thigh. âDonât say it like that, Toji!â
âYâr tail seems to like it.â
âStop it!â
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Š đđ¨đŹđĄđ˘đ đŤđđ˛2024 â reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly â header art by tamayura banko + dividers by @cafekitsune.
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THE RULES ËË ěľě°ě¤
you would think that by now you would know the rules, right? apparently not, since yeonjun always has to keep reminding youâwhores don't get to cum.
pairing ââ¸â¸â¸ choi yeonjun x fem!reader đˇ iΡcâudἹs đ none!
genreďšđďšâ¸â¸â¸ pure smut, established relationship
warnings ââ¸â¸â¸ unprotected sex (donât!), heavy overstimulation, MEANN mean dom!yeonjun, rough sex, mentions of a blowjob, orgasm denial, free use and somnophilia (consensually!!), edging, teasing, degradation kink, petnames (baby, my love, good girl), name calling (whore, slut, cumslut, fuck toy), hair pulling, spanking, dacryphilia, creampie, manhandling, dirty talk
kipoâs note ââ¸â¸â¸ wrote this while ovulating and i never needed yeonjun more in my entire life⌠this literally took a ridiculously long time to write, iâm sorry to those waiting lol i hope you enjoy!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! âĄ
âż [ 4.3k ] â [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]
today was the best day of yeonjunâs life. in fact, he couldnât think of a better way to be woken upâeven if he was going to have to punish you for it.
what shocked himâand especially youâthe most was how much you were able to do before his eyes cracked open. you had pulled the blankets off of him, pulled down his shorts and boxers, and had stroked and sucked his cock until it hardened. then, you slid onto it and began bouncing, the movement then waking him.
you looked so cute coming undone on top of him, breathy moans coming from your parted lips that were followed by low whines. it was cute how you thought you wouldnât wake him. yeonjunâs hands slid up your bare thighs and to your hips, shocking you out of your sweet bliss.
yeonjun watched blearily as his cock disappeared and reappeared from inside your pretty, glistening pussy. his eyes trailed up the curve of your body and watched the way your tits bounced up and down. his eyes then landed on your faceâwhich was previously thrown back, but now you stared down at him through furrowed eyebrows of slight horror. âs-sorry!â you choked out between heavy breaths as you didnât bother to slow or stop. âneeded you!â
a wicked smirk formed on yeonjunâs lips as he laid back onto his pillow and stared up at you. you knew you were in trouble, but the thought only made you wetter and pushed you to move faster. you savored the way your skin slapped against his and the wet sounds that came from where the two of you met. you knew that when the two of you had agreed on using each other whenever youâd like that there would still be rules. mainly rules for you to followârules that you were currently breaking.
yeonjunâs thumbs rubbed circles onto your hips as his grip tightened. âwhatever my baby wants, she can get,â he cooed and then tutted. you heard the double meaning in his words and a shiver ran up your spine from it. punishment. you were going to be punished.
the last time you hadnât followed the rules, yeonjun went easy on youâor, at least, thatâs what he claimed. you werenât allowed to touch him, or yourself. only he was allowed to do thatâwhich he didnât. for a whole month. once that month was over and you were so needy for him that you debated on tearing off his clothes and breaking even more rules, he finally gave you what you wanted. the long hours of your face pushed into a pillow as you were rammed into from behind, or being taken in various different positions that made you extremely sore until you could barely walk after was treacherous, but you had felt so good during it all so it was well worth it. that was your thought process now.
âwill you be able to take it, my love?â yeonjun asked sweetly. his hand moved from your hip to between your thighs where his thumb instead rubbed circles into your aching clit. you gasped, hips bucking towards his hand as you moved up and down. you bit down hard on your bottom lip, eyebrows still furrowed as you nodded desperately. you didnât care what the punishment was this time, all you needed was for him to start fucking you.
that was all the confirmation yeonjun needed as he sat up and wrapped an arm around your waist. in one swift motion you were on your back and he was on top of you. with the new position, you felt just how much yeonjunâs big cock stretched you out. that feeling only grew when he moved your legs to rest on his shoulder and he started pounding into you at a rough and fast pace.
you cried out, fingers gripping the bed sheets and eyes squeezing shut, as the knot in your stomach tightened and tightened until it was about to snap. âplease, please, please,â you whimpered as your walls fluttered around him, âp-please let me cum.â
yeonjun stifled out a harsh laugh, âyou thought it was gonna be this easy? i thought you knew thisâŚâ he tilted his head at you in faux pity and gave it a slight shake, âwhores donât get to cum.â tears fell from your eyes, not only from the immense pleasure you felt but also from his words. you shook your head rapidly and swallowed thickly.
âpleaseâŚâ you trailed off, looking up at yeonjun through blurred eyes. he just laughed and kissed you deeply, his tongue pushing past your lips. he pulled away from you just as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck, making you chase his lips.
âshouldâve thought about that earlier. you wanted me to fuck you so bad, huh, slut? well, iâm gonna fuck your pretty little pussy until you donât even have the words to beg to cum,â yeonjun said in a low voice with a smile. you had started to clench around his cock and he swiftly pulled out, leaving you empty and unsatisfied. he pumped his wet cock slowly over top of you as he looked down at you. the morning light from the open window shadowed him, making him appear almost holy in a demented way.
âsuch a pretty little slut, just couldnât wait her turn⌠how pathetic,â yeonjun sighed as he slid back into you. he pushed your knees to your chest and fucked you agonizingly slowly. you bucked your hips up, walls fluttering around his thick cock only for him to pull out again with a cruel laugh.
âso fucking patheticâŚâ he laughed, hand coming to grip your chin as he roughly placed his lips against yours in a wet, open mouthed kiss. you whined against his lips, needing some frictionâany friction from his body against yours.
yeonjun thought you looked the most beautiful when you were like this; completely needy for him with blown out pupils full of lust and cheeks streaked with tears. squirming underneath him desperate for any type of movement on his partâeven if it was the light trail of his fingertips. it made the blood rush directly to his already hard cock. âfuck! you drive me fuckinâ insane,â he groaned out, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes.
he pushed into you again with shallow strokes, laughing when he had to press down onto your legs to keep you from moving. yeonjun pulled out again and you whined. you were so close to cumming but everytime you were right near the edge he would yank you back.
yeonjun grabbed your arms, pulling you into a sitting position before roughly pushing you so you were now on your stomach with your ass up in the air. you felt his hard cock against your ass and you shaked your hips a little against it. you then felt his fingers in your hair and the sharp burning sensation as he dragged you back towards him with it. âyouâll be a good girl and do everything jjunie says, right?â yeonjun asked you, nodding slightly.
he stared down into your eyes, your back arched to the point where it was almost uncomfortable so he got a good view of your face. his eyes were dark and you could practically see the lust swirling in them. yeonjun pressed his hips harder into your ass and his grip in your hair tightened when you didnât answer him. âright?â he repeated, harsher.
through your labored breathing and the burning pain at your scalp, you nodded. yeonjun smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before releasing his grip of your hair. you fell face forward into the bedsheets and used your wobbling arms to push yourself back up, looking back at him. your arousal was dripping all over his cock that was currently pressed into your bare pussy. without thinking, you rocked your hips backwards, moaning at the brief sensation of your clit dragging against his length.
smack!
it took a moment to register the sharp pain to the flesh of your ass, and another to hear yeonjunâs tsking. âsuch a fucking whore, canât even wait for me to stick my cock inside you before youâre rubbing up against it. i should just use you like the fuck toy you are and be done with it.â
you immediately shook your head rapidly, pleas falling from your mouth. âno, please! iâll be good, promise!â
yeonjun sighed, amusement leaking into it. his hand found itâs way into your hair again and he pulled until your ass was pressing against him. âcute. if youâre good for me i might even let you cum today. you want that, donât you, baby?â
you nodded again.
âgood,â yeonjun started. you desperately wished you could turn to look at him once you felt the absence of his body against yours. the anticipation was eating you alive as you waited to find out what he was going to do to you. a shocked gasp left your parted lips as the entirety of his length was abruptly pushed into you, your wetness making the process easier.
yeonjun slowly pulled out of you until you felt just his tip at the base of your entrance before he slowly pushed back into you as he spoke, âiâm going to give you a pace to go atâand you better keep up with it. you got that? youâll keep going without stopping until i fill you up and tell you to stop, okay, my pretty cumslut?â
you opened your mouth to protest. you knew his pace was going to be rough, it always was, and you knew you wouldnât be able to keep up with it without cumming around him. you were already so close.
smack!
yeonjunâs free hand rubbed over the soft, burning skin of your ass, soothing it slightly as he roughly pulled you back to him. his breath fanned against your ear as he said harshly, âyou. got. that?â
his hand then snaked between your thighs to rub circles into your neglected clit, slow strokes still teasing you. more tears fell from your eyes as you nodded. ây-yes,â you replied shakily, breath hitching as a moan ripped through you.
yeonjun backed away, gripping lessening and the circles at your clit ceasing. you breathed a sigh of relief too soon as then his hips snapped against yours at a rapid and unforgiving pace. you cried out, body giving out but being forced into the same position by your hair, as your fingers tightened around the sheets. yeonjun groaned behind you, not even bothering to mask his pleasure from all of this.
his hips stilled, breathing heavy. he rubbed the flesh of your sore ass, hand then resting there as a constant reminder. âlike that, now be a good little slut and make me cum, yeah?â
you inhaled short breaths to try and fill your lungs, legs already starting to wobble underneath you. ât-too fast, jjunie!â
yeonjunâs hand on your ass kneaded at the flesh a little before smacking it again, hard. you let out a small whimper, back arching. âi donât care. you said youâd do what i say, right? so start moving your pretty ass on my cock and make me fucking cum. isnât this what you wanted when you decided to wake me, dirty slut? move, or it will get a lot worse for you from here. donât you see iâm trying to be nice?â
gulping, you began to do as you were told. your pace was a lot slower than the one yeonjun set for you, but it was the best you could do. there was another harsh slap to your ass and burning at your scalp. you were now face to face with yeonjun. anger etched his features and you knew better than to open your mouth again. âfaster,â he spit out.
your tears dripped down your neck as you tried to go faster. you body didnât know whether to whimper from all of the overstimulation or moan from all of the pleasure as you fucked yourself on yeonjunâs cock. he ran his fingers through his hair in his face before leaning down to press a rough kiss to your lips. the sheer wet sounds that filled your shared bedroom edged you on along with you wanting to make yeonjun cum. you pushed yourself to go even faster.
your brows knitted together as your mouth fell open against yeonjunâs, loud moans being slightly muffled by his lips. yeonjunâs lips moved from your mouth to your salty wet cheeks and you felt his smirk against your skin. âthatâs it, baby. f-fuckâŚâ yeonjun moaned, âkeep fucking yourself on my cock, you nasty whore. donât you dare stop.â
yeonjunâs mouth fell near your ear and you heard his shameless moans and whines even louder. they just turned you on further and your hips bucked forward as you felt your walls flutter around his cock again. you whimpered and went to move your hand between your thighs to rub at your sore, swollen clit.
yeonjun yanked you back by your hair before your fingers could reach it. he laughed wryly in your ear, âyou should fucking know better than to touch yourself right now. are you trying to make me angry?â
you cried out again from the pain and shook your head. you didnât entirely believe yourself. the only thought running through your mind was how you wanted him to fuck you so hard you came instead of you pathetically fucking yourself on him while he watched. you wanted to see his expressions when he fucked into you and felt how good you made him feel, not the plain sheets of your bed. maybe you were trying to anger him.
your walls tightened around him and yeonjun cursed under his breath as he pulled away from you. âkeep going,â he ordered.
you sniffled, the tears blurring your vision. surely he didnât want you to keep moving with how close to cumming you were, right? not wanting to lose the opportunity to cum at all, you kept at your pace. you pleaded with him to let you stop, that you were so close, but they all fell on deaf ears.
you couldnât take it anymore. your movements stilled and you looked at his distorted figure with pleading eyes. heavy labored breaths ripped from your chest and your body shook to the point that you could almost hear your bones rattle. âitâs too m-much, jjunie⌠canât go f-furtherâŚâ
yeonjun tutted. another loud smack was heard throughout the room.
âiâm not going to set the pace for you again.â yeonjun slammed into you. you yelped loudly, throat already feeling hoarse as you tried to pull your body away from his. he just pulled you back by your hair. the pain at your scalp was starting to become intolerable, but you felt so good. loud sputtering moans ripped from your chest as your eyes squeezed shut. âgo fucking faster.â
yeonjunâs speech was clipped and you could tell that he was close. swallowing thickly, you dragged yourself along him again, babbling out apologies. you got as close to his pace as you could, whimpering each time you felt the tip of his cock press against your sweet spot. his lips were on yours in a heated and sloppy kiss.
his hand fell from your hair, giving you brief relief, as they trailed up your stomach and towards your bouncing tits. his touch left the skin underneath it ignited. he kneaded them, thumb rubbing your sensitive nipples as he kissed you deeper from the awkward angle you were at. you moaned against his mouth and he took the opportunity to trail a hand down your stomach while you were distracted.
you gasped loudly as his fingers rubbed hard circles into your clit again. on instinct, you moved from against his chestâwet pussy pulling off his hard cock in the processâat the jolt of lightning that strikes through your body. âp-please⌠please,â you begged. you begged for him to let you cum. for him to end this torment. he snuffed out your plea with another rough kiss.
yeonjun pressed down on your chest, pulling you back towards him and in turn, staking you directly back onto his big cock. he groaned loudly against your lips and you felt his warm cum spill into you and paint your walls white. he broke away from you, a trail of spit connecting your lips to his, before he roughly pushed you down towards the sheets. his big hands gripped tightly at your hips.
âsince you donât know how to fucking listen, fucking useless slutââ yeonjun landed another hard smack on your ass and you flew forwards, another moan escaping your mouth. âand you donât know how to follow simple directionsâŚâ
his words were raspy as he pushed them out through low grunts, hips pressed firmly to your ass so none of his cum spilled out. âmoaning like a goddamn whore and youâre not even truly sorry about itâŚâ he reeled his hips back and slammed into you, a loud squelching sound from his cum bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. âbut you will be.â
you couldnât help yourself as another loud pathetic moan poured out of you. you could practically feel your boyfriendâs smirk burning into the back of your head. yeonjun pulled out of you and you whined at the sudden loss, walls clenching around nothing. âget up and turn around,â he demanded.
yeonjun laid down onto the bed, tapping his thigh twice, and you climbed over him. he lined his cock with your entrance with a smile at how his cum dripped out of you and down his length before grabbing your hips. you slid down the rest of it with a small broken gasp, yeonjun groaning beneath you. he then moved his arms behind his head, looking up at you expectantly with a tilted head. you realized too late that he just put you in the position you woke him up with.
âbounce on it.â
your eyes widened and slowly you started to shake your head, trembling legs squeezing around his thighs. you could barely sit upâlet alone bounce on his cock. heat crept up your neck. âjjunie, pleaseââ
âyou want to cum, yes?â he mused and you nodded gingerly. âyou wanted to cum so bad, pathetically getting yourself off with my cock, yet now youâre shy?ââhis lips pushed into a pout, one full just as much mockery as his tone of voiceââput that pretty cunt to good use then and be lucky my cock isnât down your fuckinâ throat right now, baby.â
âbutââ
âbounce on it. iâm not touching you.â he made himself more comfortable, arms still behind his head as he watched you intently.
shakily, you lifted yourself up on wobbly knees and dropped back down onto yeonjunâs cock. you screwed your eyes shut as you whimpered. you lifted yourself up again and dropped back down, skin slapping harshly against his. you were breathing heavily and the shaking all throughout your body only seemed to worsen. you heard your boyfriend snicker. âsurely you can do better than that,â yeonjun deadpanned.
gulping as more tears formed in your eyes, you lifted your hips again and dropped back down. yeonjun sighed, grabbing your hips roughly as he fucked up into you. you cried out, briefly falling over before one of yeonjunâs hands pushed you back and you had no choice but to catch yourself on your hands. your chest heaved at the sudden switch in angle and you cried out once more, tits bouncing from his thrusts.
yeonjun stilled, hard cock still buried inside your weeping cunt, as he returned his arms back behind his head. âbounce.â
pushing yourself flat onto your feet, your body shook tremendously. with great effort, you used the last of your fleeting strength to lift your hips up and down. slowly, you dragged yourself across the length of yeonjunâs cock, eyes downcast to avoid hisâno doubtâannoyed stare. âlook at me,â you heard him say and the heat spread across your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you.
you dragged your eyes upward from his toned abs. yeonjun annoyance was clear on his face, features twisted in a borderline glare as his brows furrowed together. god, you felt yourself get even wetterâif it was even possible. he is just so goddamn hot when heâs pissed off.
âhow the fuck am i suppose to get off to this? go faster.â
you babbled more apologies while nodding your head, but he wasnât having any of it. you werenât that sorry anyways. you secretly hoped that he would show you more pity and instead fuck you himself. âdonât be sorry, go faster. youâre pissing me off.â
you struggled out a breath and moved your hips again, legs shaking and hips bucking slightly as you tried to increase the pace but couldnât. you were so close, so-so close. you dropped back down onto his cock, falling down onto his chest.
âalright,â you heard yeonjun mumble lowly next to your ear. you winced in pain, sharp cry leaving your lips from the sudden pain at your sore scalp. yeonjun pulled you back by your hair and sat the two of you up.
in the blink of an eye, you were pushed on your backâknees pressed tightly to your chest in a mating press as yeonjun railed into you. you begged for him to slow down through broken sobs but all he did was hiss out a cruel âshut up and fucking take it, desperate slut. you wanted me to fuck you like this, so i am.â
shrill moans left your mouth and you clawed at yeonjunâs back as your eyes rolled back from the pleasure. he was fucking you so deep that you saw stars, and he was rightâit was exactly what you wanted. words died in your throat and your brows knitted together as the rope tightened in your stomach. you clenched down hard onto yeonjunâs cock and he moaned, head falling into the crook of your neck briefly, warm breath tickling your collarbone. âf-fuck! squeezing me so damn tightâŚâ
wet noises and loud moans bounced off the walls, filling your ears and making you more aroused. yeonjunâs thrusts staggered and he dragged out, âfuck, babyâŚâ
he pressed deep into you as his warm, white ropes of cum filled you to the brim once again. you whimpered, desperate to cum yourself. yeonjunâs head was thrown back, eyes rolled back and mouth wide open as the last bit of cum dripped out of him and into your cunt. he moaned, eyes opening to look down at you before leaning down to kiss you sloppily. he started to fuck into you again, rough and hard. you could feel his cum dripping from out of you at the process with its lewd noises.
you whimpered again loudly, kissing him back with desperation as tears wet your cheeks. âshut the fuck up,â yeonjun said against your lips. he pulled away from you and took his still hard cock out. you resisted the urge to whine as he pushed himself off of you and moved to the edge of the bed.
you laid on the bed alone, mind completely blank besides the want to finally be able to cum yourself. your body shook with a passion and you were filled to the brim and sticky with yeonjunâs cum. your poor, aching and abused pussy throbbed from both pain and pleasure and your scalp was on fire. still, you wouldnât have it any other way. youâd do it all again in a heartbeat.
yeonjun returned, clothes on properly as he sat on the end of the bed and looked back at you. âcâmere,â he spoke, words soft like cotton. you didnât think you could move, but you willed yourself to get up on your wobbly knees to crawl the short distance towards him. he bent you across his lap and landed a hard slap against your ass. you almost forgot about the soreness with how overstimulated your body was.
you reeled forward, a half shocked gasp and loud whine parting from your lips. yeonjunâs hand smoothed over your ass and parted your legs slightly so he could rub at your swollen clit. you inhaled sharply as you squirmed around in his lap but had nowhere to go with his other hand pressed firmly against your waist. âyou act like a fuckinâ whore again and iâll not only ruin your pretty little pussyââ he leaned in next to your ear ââiâll ruin that pretty face of yours too.â
yeonjun slapped your ass hard again, hand still sliding across your clit from the slick of his cum, as he laughed at your squirming. you breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he finally stopped and released you. âgo clean yourself up, iâm not done with you yet.â
again, you willed yourself to move as you climbed weakly out of his lap. pain shot up for legs as you stood and it only got worse with each step you struggled to take towards the bathroom. you were almost halfway there when yeonjun called your name and you looked back at him.
his eyes trailed up your pathetically shaking body with a smug smirk, still sat in his same spot as before but with his arms crossed against his chest. âget ready to wrap that dirty mouth around my cock, baby.â he made eye contact with you, âand if youâre a good girl, iâll finally let you cum.â
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colour me in: the starry night | jjk (m)
Summary:Â You anticipated the trip to Jungkook's hometown with a thrilled yet nervous heart â and upon your arrival, your emotions prove justified: because as the days pass, you realise that gentle joy awaits just as much as ancient pain.
âł pairing: Jungkook x reader âł rating: 18+ âł genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; angst, fluuuuuff, smut âł warnings: fluff fluff fluffluffulfufluf, flirting, daddy issues, arguments with his father, his dad is pretty much an ass and almost as bad as oc's mom, but his mom and brother are <3, ria <3, oc being a light in the dark, oc learns many new things, cursing, fighting, a lot of crying/tears, neglect, mental breakdown, panic and anxiety, anger, insecurities, too many mentions of nostalgia lmao, jealousy, mention of therapy, nara, christian yu lmAO, WEDDING TIME!!!, oc is so pretty (that jk loses it), alcohol/drunk stuff, more confrontations, making up, he loves loves loves her, childhood coping mechanisms; explicit sexual content: kissing, making out, oral (f. & m. receiving), teasing, eating out against the wall, bit of wall sex, drunk sex, manhandling omg, impatient koo, big dick!jk, dom!jk but this timeeee also sub!jk lowkey!!, tears of pleasure, masturbation, fingering, handjob for a bit, squirting, creampie, literally their orgasms are a MESS phew it's kinda hot lmao, moany/whiny/super turned on jk; no 'the ending' warning this time⌠just the whole chapter 𼺠Ⳡword count: 45.9k lmfao pls do still read it tho âł a/n: this was supposed to be 30k i can just never shut up lol sorry <3 but this chapter honestly got me good. i cried sm writing it and i love them and i never want this story to end :') i hope you love it, too. thank you for supporting me at all times <3 i can't wait to hear what you think đ¤ âł listen to: dance me to the end of love by the civil wars (alt. version) | full collaborative playlist đ¤
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Itâs going to be okay â Jungkookâs hand gently clasping your thigh wants to convince you of this, you know.
But you canât deny that the presence of the family you so long awaited is affecting you â your pulse is quickening to a heavily uncomfortable pace. You know his mom; you donât fear his brother; but his father⌠his eyes are inscrutable.
They scare you to no end. There he is; the power continuously shattering your boyfriendâs heart. And Jungkook must be well conscious of your distress; because a mere moment later, he of all people, the one who's supposed to seek comfort, saysâ
âAngel? Breathe.â
Your eyes swerve to the side and remember to blink; you only now feel that you're jabbing crescent moons into your palm, just when you realise the sharp impact. You uncurl your fingers and nod, letting him cover the faintly scarred skin with his hand.
Sighing, you ask, âAre you okay?â
âI am,â he says, nodding, as if heâs practised and polished this answer over the years, ânervous, but⌠itâll be okay.â
âYes⌠I know.â
âLetâs go?â
You pull the handles on your respective sides at the same time, setting foot onto the stranger soil for the very first second in your life. You canât quite discern your gut feeling right now, but you hope itâs not the last.
Waiting next to the car, you watch Jungkook round the vehicle, squinting your eyes; the noon sun is burning right above you. He heaves the suitcases with a faint groan and you join him right away to fetch the rucksack you brought.
Holding it between your knees, you flash his family a smile and a slight wave, awkward and unsure about what to do until his mother steps down the porch and towards you. Sheâs elated, and you see the same sprinkle in her eyes as in her sonâs when she closes in enough for an embrace.
Her arms are comforting around you; somehow, youâre startled by it. Takes you a second to reciprocate the hug, hopefully not long enough for her to question your receptiveness. But then you put your chin on her shoulder, shutting your eyes for the briefest of seconds until you open them to a side hug between Jungkook and his brother.
In the slowly cooling weather, she feels warm, a motherly love that blasts heat to your cheeks until she lets go. âFinally a woman, huh?â she breathes, her voice so sweet and kind. âA great alternative to all the testosterone.â
âI can imagine,â you respond; the thought isnât too much of a stranger to you. âI spent most of the week amongst men. Theyâre barbarians.â
She laughs, just in the moment that Junghyun, Jungkookâs brother advances towards you. He offers you his hand and a radiant smile that resembles your boyfriendâs. In fact, he does look quite a bit like his younger sibling. Lopsided smirk, fluffy dark hair, handsome features.
Not a lot older. Kind as he greets you with a, âMiss Novaura herself, yes?â
The name makes you beam, inundates you with pride. You appreciate that he doesnât revert to Charmante as most people have done throughout your life, but sees you as what you are and what you do now. The manager of Novaura, damn it.
Yes.
Has he been keeping up with stuff?
âAnd Miss Novaura meets the second Jeon himself!â you respond, but as he grimaces, you bite your tongue immediately. What did you say?
âWhen,â he starts, overly dramatic, a little like Jungkook, yet somewhat more extroverted, âwas I demoted to the second Jeon?â
âOh, IâmâŚâ
Jungkook clicks his tongue from the side, shoving his brother aside in the most sibling-like manner you can possibly imagine. Then, he threatens, âDonât do this, or Iâll take her away from you guys again.â
âWhatâs that mean?â you ask.
âIt means,â Junghyun interjects, âthat everyoneâs been dying to meet you. Mom and I even told Jungkook not to spill too much about you, so we can see ourselves.â
Oh, the pressure. The nervousness from the past couple of weeks skyrockets. Yet, your charming self conjures, âThen I hope I donât disappoint.â
Jeon Junghyun speaks on, babbling something reassuring that youâre certain could warm your chest if you had the capacity to listen. But you drift off quickly as the side of your eyes follows a movement in the back: Jungkook timidly, almost fearfully nearing his father.
Youâre alarmed and you canât tell why â perhaps because you donât truly know their situation yet. You havenât seen them interact. But at this very moment, youâre surprised when Jungkook and his dad share a light side hug, too.
The occurrence is frigid, but somehow, you expected even more frozen behaviour. Rare glances, absolute ignorance. Your mind envisioned a world that harboured true enmity, but you donât think thatâs quite what these two have been maintaining over the years.
In some sense, itâs worse.
Because rather than pure silence, thereâs a deep distance that is still disguised as a surface level of closeness in a family. Faking it might just be more difficult after all.
Thereâs no conversation between them. Nothing much as Jungkook comes back to his mother to give her a warm, genuine hug, a rainbow to a drizzle in comparison. As if to receive what his father didnât provide.
You follow.
Youâre not entirely keen on a too affectionate interaction between his dad and you, but you still smile when he lifts his hand, shaking it kindly. From here, as the corners of his lips raise, wrinkles around his eyes that he passed onto his next generation, he looks like a terribly nice man.
He gestures into the house and you follow, listening as he asks, âWas the journey okay?â
You nod joyfully, mustering up all kindness for somebody you know hurt someone you love for so long. After all, Jungkook has done the same for you, no matter how many times your mother shattered you.
And in the end, itâs still his dad.
âOh, yes, pretty pleasant,â you answer, clearing your throat when you hear the formal tone in your voice. âWe took turns driving. And since I fell asleep, I guess I can still seize the rest of the day⌠if you want to?â
You turn to Jungkook as the sentence fades out and he nods with raised, stirred eyebrows. âYeah! Itâs what weâre here for.â
His father smiles, a flat hand signalling towards the living room to invite you to rest for now. Matters seem normal so far; for a moment, you allow yourself to believe he isnât so neglectful after all. Even with all your trust in Jungkook, you try to imagine a scenario in which he perceived his fatherâs distaste as something wrong.
Youâre incorrect.
It doesnât require more than a couple minutes and a bit more mingling until you recognise amidst the smalltalk that he doesnât behave the same with his younger son as he does with Junghyun. Thereâs lightness in the way he converses with the latter.
Jungkook only moves around you and his mother; no particular intention to really connect with his dad. Understandably so. Their gazes barely meet.
Not even when his fatherâs tone drops as he approaches Jungkook, uttering a seemingly obligatory, âYou alright? Is the job good?â
âMhm,â Jungkook merely responds.
The interaction is awkward and quiet, yet too noisy for the lovely room. You focus on the homely furniture and small-town-vibed interior as you wait for the brief dialogue to conclude. Youâre not at a place to intervene yet.
There are pictures of the family, yet fresher if you could judge. The ones showcasing memories are probably somewhere you canât see yet; youâre buzzing to finally skim through his childhood pictures.
You listen in. Quiet again, conversation already at an end.
Jungkookâs fingertips graze yours, giving a short head tilt, wondering what youâre thinking about. His beam is different when he looks at you now, a much more blissful alternative to the timid words he voiced just a couple seconds ago.
But you canât really answer when his mother emerges in the room to wave you towards the kitchen, eager to converse, yet suggesting, âIf you want, you can freshen up before dinner.â
But you reject the idea kindly, flashing your best smile as you respond, âIâm excited to be here, so we can just talk a little for now. Iâll go wash my face after dinner!â
She nods slowly, politely, a the-guest-is-king-sort of gesture before you add, âHow have you been?â
The family joins at the dinner table one by one; nobody interferes or barges into anotherâs turn. Only listens. Youâre used to chaos from events and parties you used to attend, everybody dying to have the last word, to outsmart another.
This family is as patient at a conversation as youâve witnessed in your boyfriend. Theyâre lively, interested; maybe thereâll be more of an ecstatic family tumult when you get used to them or when more people join. At the wedding, probably.
Youâve seen something like that with your friends, too. Especially on this vacation. You did fall into disorder quite often.
Yet, it differs from your usual experience. No discomfort. No fear of odd questions.
The Jeons arenât out to reveal your little secrets, but to understand you as a person; so you appreciate the natural flow of the dialogue when Jungkookâs mother answers, âJust tired. The wedding preparations are tedious, and itâll probably only get worse.â
âYeah? Youâve been helping out a lot, yes?â
âYes, somewhat. The bride⌠Gayoung, sheâs close with us and relies on us a lot. And on top of that,â she shakes her head at this point; rolls her eyes as she turns on the stove, stirring and heating up some meal, âsheâs getting cold feet.â
âOh man,â Jungkook adds, chuckling a little, unsurprised, âwedding is definitely on, though. She always gets nervous. Almost missed her first day at work years ago,â he turns to you, âsheâs a vet, and she was terrified of hurting the pets, but⌠everybody trusts her with their petsâ lives now.â
âAwh,â you voice, âI can imagine how stressful that must be. Iâm pretty good at managing stuff, though, so if you need any helpââ
âNo way, youâre not here to work. You can do something else?â His mother looks over her shoulder, pondering. âPaint?â
âOh, I do paint sometimes, but Iâm not very good at it.â
âShe is,â Jungkook argues, hand lifting to rub your back, âbut sheâs an even better writer.â
His father chimes in, arms folded, âOh, I think you can get a ton of inspiration here, then. Thereâs a flower field nearby if youâre interesâ what?â
Stopping when Jungkook interrupts with an exhale, he tilts his head at his son, and you follow his gaze, watching thick eyebrows kiss. âI already took care of that, but⌠way to spoil a surprise.â
Ah. You see the hostility increase with each second. You wish you could diffuse the moment; tell Jungkook to ignore everything that might irk him.
Instead, you only sneak your palm to his knee, imitating his rub to calm his nerves. He must be tense. He always must be.
âI wasnât spoiling,â his father argues, âwas just an idea.â
âOh, itâs okay,â you intervene, patting Jungkookâs thigh. He looks at you just briefly, but it suffices for some of his muscles to relax. âI donât know much anyway. Spoiler-free zone!â
Itâs the best you can do. So you keep trying; diverge the topic to other aspects of your life when Junghyun asks about your job and the efforts connected to it. About the joys and hardships of it. About how your parents are doing â burdensome topic, yet a must to master.Â
Then they speak about the passage of time in the city, and how it compares to this place; how the family perceived the differences and how their current life differs from their past here.
You learn that they still feel more connected to their hometown; obvious when considering the fact that they spent most of their years here. Initially uncertain about moving, they still decided to be closer to their children and the worldâs opportunities.
The city called and it kept them.
You know it kept Jungkook the most; or maybe it was you who shackled him there, too.
âApart from the obvious differences,â you start, âI canât comment much on it yet, but⌠Iâve been really interested in being here. Super nervous.â
His mother coos, scrunching her nose the way he does, assures that thereâs no need to be nervous; that this wedding might end up being the kindest you have ever been to. Adds, âSpeaking of. Brought a pretty dress?â
âOh, of course,â you say; your toes curl in excitement. âIâd show you right now, but I promised to keep it more or less a secret from Jungkook.â You wiggle your eyebrows at him. âHeâs seen it, but not me wearing it.â
âAh. Is it that pretty?â
âItâs pretty amazing.â
She steps closer as the dish simmers, playing with a couple strands hanging in Jungkookâs eyes. His lips twitch upwards, and his cheeks colour in a blush when she says, âWell, knowing this guy, youâre out to give my boy half a nervous breakdown, I see.â
âIâm trying to, really.â
Your answer is light-hearted, but a mere moment late. You canât help but wonder what she means by knowing this guy. Then again, you presume a mother usually witnesses her childrenâs lives; watches them fall in and out of love.
You donât like how the realisation makes you feel, but you smile it away either way.
And it doesnât help when Junghyun seems to catch onto her statement, too, saying, âBy the way⌠Iâve heard that at the wedding, weââ
But the interruption is sharp. Unnatural, abrupt, his motherâs voice strange when she interjects, âAh. Listen. Letâs serve dinner, and we can talk more when we eat. A hand?â
You donât know what itâs about, but you attempt your best to not be nosy. You canât even guess it, so itâs probably easiest to let it go. To only stand up to help a little, Jungkook and you handing things around until youâre seated again.
She still scolds Junghyun silently, eyes wide when she sits next to him; perhaps itâs a surprise for Jungkook or for you.
You wonât spoil it. Focus on the food.
And despite the early tension, you survive dinner, albeit occasionally cut by things Jungkookâs father remarks and by Jungkookâs responses of retaliation. Likeâ
âHonestly, you not liking these is a perk,â Junghyun comments when Jungkooks puts the green beans aside, snatching them immediately.
His father is quick to deduce, âDidnât you love them?â
Jungkookâs smirk is immediate, accompanied by a shrug and a click of his tongue, and a somewhat passive aggressive, âYes. Fifteen years ago, though.â
Itâs odd, the mixture of anger and fear. He reveals his agitation in his short answers, but he never extends them to something that might provoke a bigger fight.
His father then says, âIâve never seen you put them aside.â
To which Jungkook mutters, âShouldâve looked more then, right.â
âThatâs unnecessary.â
âOkay.â
Tense. Quiet. Gulping.
But you get it over with, breathe and touch through it all until the plates are cleared, stuffed in the dishwasher, the clock ticking. Jungkook leads you to the porch that his family greeted you at earlier. You intertwine your fingers deeper, hoping for some solace between the irate words exchanged.
His shoulders stand slightly higher than usual, eyes a little unfocused. You squeeze his palm, and he laughs when you bump your shoulder against his. Tapping his foot against the porch, he says, âThis is where we were having a barbeque this summer. Remember when I called you?â
As if you could forget. Those calls got you through messy, forsaken summer days. He lets go of your hand to tug you into his side, tight in his embrace, and your voice grows a pitch when you answer, âYeah. You were drunk.â
âI was.â
âAnd you still called me. Burned your finger, right?â
He scoffs. âI barely remember that. I just remember seeing you on the video call and⌠missing you really bad.â
You glance into his face, opting him to do the same. Eyes half on his lips, half on his pupils, staring to and fro, you ask, âYou donât miss me now, though, right?â
âHm⌠I donât hope Iâll ever need to again.â As he presses into your arm, you cuddle in. He nods towards the small front yard, âThey were playing Linkin Park here. And way back, when I was like seventeen, Iâd smoke here sometimes.â
Your eyes blow wide; you canât imagine his gentle fingers holding a cigarette between them, but then again, you kind of can. He laughs at your surprise before he continues, âI know. Rebellious phase. It was stupid, because Mom would smell it right away and then ground me.â
âDamn, Kook.â
He nods, lifting a shoulder as if to say my bad, and then kisses your temple. Asks, âYou feeling good?â
âYeah. I really like it here so far.â
âGood.â
âAre you?â
âYeah. Itâs okay.â
âGood,â you echo, just for him to do it, too.
âGood. I think we couââ
Pause.Â
Because the feast of interruptions continues still. A sudden, shrill call of his name reverberates across the streets, and you flinch, following the sound on the right before detecting somebody walking up to you.
You havenât seen her yet, but sheâs glowing; hair open behind her, just the top half held at the back with a butterfly claw clip. The breeze swirls her bangs, and just from the exhilaration in her voice, you can tell who it is.
Jungkook lights up equally when he squints his eyes and recognises her, loosening his grip around you as he exclaims, âHey!â
âHelloooo!â
And then he lets you go. You watch the endearments unfold. He says, âDidnât expect you here today.â
âMe neither,â she says, and he laughs; you join in, already curious. âI was going to binge some show, but Junghyun texted saying youâd arrived.â
She catches up with a somewhat heavy breath, widening her arms when Jungkook steps down from the porch and engulfs her in a firm, heart-warming hug. Loving, decades old.
They oscillate on the spot, and she rubs his back until they let go. She doesnât waste a minute until her eyes drift to you; theyâre so expressive, dark yet glimmering. They prove your assumption when you see her joy towards you immediately.
The moment begins a little awkwardly as the stranger approaches you with uncertainty about what to say, but then she asks, âIs it okay if I hug you, too?â
You giggle. Goodness.
âGosh, sure!â
And youâre delighted to the bone. Her touch is warm, inviting. They all are. Youâre not used to it; why does it make you sentimental? You donât know her. Youâve never spoken to her. Why the clump in your throat?
Weird.
âRia,â she introduces, âIâve heard so much about you. Really, itâs a common thing to say, but Iâve been really excited like⌠man, why did you come so late when he was sooo whipped in the summer already andââ
Your face heats up impossibly; this thought of a passed summer that called upon a million unknown emotions and words and encounters and yearning⌠you might never get over it.
Jungkook gives her a playful whack on her clothed arm, eliciting a prolonged Owhhh. You lift a protective arm over her to jest back, and she gasps, infinitely pleased. It helps her open up more, because it seems that she doesnât need more than this to suggest, âCan I take her?â
Wrinkles form on his forehead as he raises his eyebrows in confusion, and she, nearly jumping at her spot, explains, âShow her around a bit. Weâre having dinner soon and then I wonât be able to move, soâŚâ
Jungkook blinks, unsure, looking between her and you until you urge, âItâs okay. You drove most of the time, too, so try and rest a bit.â
Your reassurance helps; either way, you donât think you wouldâve gotten to much more today anyway, no matter how much you hoped to seize the evening. Youâre beat from the last day and the terrible night and the tiring journey and the filling meal.
Taking a walk is all you can imagine to do right now.
Maybe heâs on the same wavelength as you, because the nods come slowly but surely. âSure. Go. Iâll come later to bring her back.â
Ria places a sweet hand on your back, urging you forward and speaking back, âGotta make sure I donât kidnap her, what?â
Her house is nearby. The first of the conversation goes by similarly as it did in Jungkookâs house, but the moment she announces the arrival at her own home, your calm demeanour changes to a rather terrified one.
Sheâs not going toâŚ
No.
Because she promises, âIâm not taking you inside, no worries. I wouldnât overwhelm you like this.â
Your chest relaxes. You guess meeting one family officially, as if youâre being evaluated for marriage, might suffice. While sure her familyâs as lovely as the other, you donât want the overstimulation.
So instead of urging you inside, she takes you to the small cottage next to her house. Their property is a little bigger, the area spacier. You soon find out that the little house sheâs taking you to isnât some guest thing, but houses dozens of farm animals.
You didnât think there was something to the clichĂŠ you heard about small towns; yet, the reality is much more endearing. How oddly cheerful the animals seem, even though you know the fantasy is just a fabrication of your mind.
You donât know what theyâre thinking or feeling.
One of the hens clucks as Ria picks it up, looking at you with big eyes as she says, âI thought you guys would come early in the night and then just sleep. I didnât know youâd arrive so much earlier.â
âOh yeah!â you say, hands in the back pockets of your jeans, âWe left the hotel at noon.â
âThatâs crazy.â
She bends, letting the hen go, and the little thing instantly rushes away. You flinch, stepping back. Youâve never done this before; you try to keep your cool, but youâre so inexperienced, mesmerised by your surroundings.
This place is so different, so much quieter, more serene. You understand the nostalgic vibe of romance movies set in towns like this. Youâre suddenly thrown into The Notebook and into Footloose. Into everything that evokes warmth.
âWhat is?â you ask.
âJust. Itâs so nice to meet you. We have so many guys here, so itâs cool to be with a girl for once.â She takes a deep breath. âAnd I love Kookie and I trust his judgement. So when he told me about you, I told him to get you here right away. It took you so long.â
Her tone is frisky, but you feel bad. Not quite because you let her wait, but because of why you waited yourself. Because of the breaks and pauses and the split hearts that you needed time for to sew again.
The weeks of insecurity and then the trials of life.
Something in the pit of your stomach stirs at the memories; you canât believe youâre standing where he fell for you first, despite the distance. Where he reached for you through the rain and the clouds and the stars, and called to listen to your tears and your pleas to return.
You canât believe it. In fact, yes, you believe it as little as her.
âI get itâŚâ you say, âwe have quite a few guys in our group, too.â You wait, watching her nod as she inspects the last of chickens running into the cottage. Then you ask, âWhat did he tell you about me?â
âWhat he told me? Mmmh. I mean, itâs difficult to say. He spoke of you highly, but I think his main focus was on not hurting either of you. Very, very worried about how things might play out.â
Yeah⌠yeah, it sounds like him.
You donât answer; shift your eyes to the grassy ground. You hear her voice lift a pitch as she says, âMan, too many guys is simply too much, though, seriously. And then having to deal with Kook all the time must be so exhausting, too.â
Laughter erupts out of you, and you shake your head, âI mean, heâs a brat sometimes. But heâs the best man I know.â
âHe is a good guy, yeah? Iâm so glad.â She nods again, affirmative and positively confirming. âHeâs always been. It sucks sometimes that he lives so far away.â
âIâm sorry,â you say, but she shrugs her shoulders, waves off your concerns. âI take it youâre not interested in living in the city?â
Her eyes narrow when she looks into the distance, met with the lowering sun as if it entails the entirety of her beloved town. Itâs probably part of it, though; the one sun sheâs known all her life, despite the same star rising and setting everywhere in your vast world.
âNot really,â she says, âI like it here⌠Even though so many left.â
âYeah?â
âYes. Some people I knewâŚâ
You can imagine. Two faces flash into your mind, at least. Not that you like half of the thought; but itâs automatic, and so is your statement, âI feel like I know at least two.â
She seems surprised. Tilts her head, blinking, hands on her hips. âReally?â
âYeah, wellâŚâ You avert your eyes, fearing an abundance of transparency. âJungkook and Nara.â
âOh.â Riaâs blinking fastens. She didnât expect this; neither did you. But in some sense, it was inevitable, dropping Naraâs name here. âYou met Nara, huh?â
âYou say it so⌠weirdly.â
Her hands lift and she immediately works on objecting to your assumptions, âNo, I mean. Sheâs nice! I liked her growing up. I just wouldnât have mentioned her unprompted. Thereâs no needâŚâ She studies your face. âHe doesnât either, you know? Talks about you mostly.â
You donât know what to say. You gathered this much; but a very strange feeling in your chest presses against your heart, and you canât quite decipher why. You shove it aside as best as you can, and then breathe it out, thankfully admitting, âThatâs relieving.â
âThereâs no need to worry. I think he and you will have a good time here and bond more than ever.â
You nod. You donât feel like responding; not because you donât like her or donât want to. Your throat is tied, and you canât really think of or form a productive thought. So you just keep nodding, smiling until a hen pops out again.
Ria, pushing away a stray strand of her dark hair, points to the little, excited animal, wondering, âHey, have you ever held a chicken?â
âNo!â Ah. Good tactic to distract you, considering how many times you mentioned this minor wish in the past weeks. âBut I want to! Told Jungkook like a hundred times.â
âOkay,â she waves you closer and you dare to approach, hoping to neither hurt the hen nor yourself. You have absolutely no clue about these things. âCome here then. Itâs not hard.â
Itâs not. In fact, the process sounds logical, facile; but your hands are shaking, and often enough, animals seem to understand negative emotions when targeted. But Ria proves a good teacher.
Shows you to near the hen calmly, moving slowly to not startle her. She instructs you to soften your voice as much as possible, kindly noting that youâre soft-spoken enough to not worry about it. And then, once close enough, she demonstrates placing a hand around the tiny body, securing the wings to prevent flapping.
You imitate. Or try to, at least. It doesnât work right away, your nervousness intruding; but at some point, you manage. You use your other hand to support the body, lift the hen gently. Hold it close to your body to give her a sense of security, much as Ria lectured.
Ria is patient, amazing, despite having done this probably a thousand and million times. Adjusting to your lack of knowledge, praising you, acknowledging your effort.
Her giggle is mellifluously sweet as she watches and hears you gasp; she applauds, but stops right away when she detects the third presence amongst you.
She calls, âAh! Youâre finally here.â
Your eyes follow hers, heart lighting up as you hold up the chicken carefully and nearly shout in uninhibited excitement, âKook, look!â
His hands are in his jeansâ pockets; his walk idle. One of his eyes is squinting shut until he steps into the shadow, a tender smile playing around his lips before you realise that it looks⌠sad. Doesnât reach as far. No crinkles around his eyes.
âArenât you the cutest, munchkin?â he responds before dropping into a crouch next to you. He seems brighter upon seeing your face, but you still keep wondering⌠What just happened in the house?
You donât know. You donât want to ask yet either.
So you only set the hen down, lowering her until sheâs balanced and waddling â waddling? â away. You wrap your arms around him, providing a flicker of warmth. You donât know what made his face fall like this, but you want to at least attempt to lift his chin again.
God. What a start to the first day. Is it odd to feel scared?
âWanna go?â he asks, a thumb brushing the corner of your lip.
You hum, âIâm getting tired, yeahâŚâ
âThen we can go and rest? And sleep if you want to.â
Itâs early⌠but laying down and staring at the ceiling doesnât sound too bad right now. Maybe he needs it, too. So you agree, pressing Ria to your heart once more and promising to return to her.
Sheâll be at the wedding, too. You guess youâll see everyone multiple times anyway; but as rude as it may sound, the thought of warming into this manâs body doesnât allow you to bother with the world right now.
His steps are slow as you walk to the house. Eyes drooping. He might not notice; heâs been here so many times. But his presence, combined with the things you see, make your heart swell.
Maybe because you want to be there for him; maybe because you still canât believe youâre here. But you perceive everything as if for the first time.
The cosy garden and the flower beds. A small-town house sitting on a quiet, tree-lined street. Itâs more on the simple side, painted in warm hues, a light beige. Charming. You remember everything being charming.
The snug living room, the tender, partly wooden and partly modern kitchen, the clearly old and handmade dishes. A fireplace. Wooden floors.Â
You havenât seen the rooms yet, but as he leads you upstairs, you imagine him doing the same this summer as he approached his bed. He walked these same steps, a narrow and short hallway, opening the door to an inviting childhood bedroom with you present in his device.
Yearning.
But the man from the summer isnât all you see. In fact, the place reminds of time travel; you soon recognise just how signature Jungkook everything is.
Because the moment you enter, you see him in everything. Like, in the soft quilts on his bed; he wouldnât use them today, but you imagine a shy Jungkook and you imagine big eyes, small hands pulling the sheets over his body to cuddle into a warm night.
The window overlooks the backyard; the sunlight filters through the sheer curtains. Itâs still just the middle of the evening. But you find it hard to want to leave this simple comfort. Lived-in, sweet.
Reminiscent of a youth.
Like a soft tune of a ballad. You donât know what it is that makes you feel this way.
The cosiness? The pictures on shelves? The slightly tilted roof of the room? Or the posters reminding of a world a decade ago. It hasnât been this long, if you think about it, but to you, all of this still tells a story.
âWhatâs this?â you ask, opening a random drawer and grazing rolled up paper, large, stowed away.
âPosters, I think? I havenât seen or opened them in ages. Maybe we canââ
He pulls and rolls them out, glancing for a bare moment before he undos the action with a sudden bright red on his cheeks. You try to catch a glimpse, âWhat?â
He doesnât answer, so you take the poster from him, only needing to open it halfway through to see a pretty face, followed by a swimsuit and a snatched body. Ah. Is thisâŚ
âVictoriaâs Secret?â
âShut up,â he instructs, and you hold yourself back, watching him, blinking untilâ
You puff out some air, nearly spitting as you laugh, teasing, âYou were that type of guy, yeah?â
âShut up,â he repeats, prying it out of your hands before he throws it into a corner. âI had this up for like two weeks. Forget it.â
âNever threw it away, though.â
âNever thought of it.â
He scratches the back of his head, a tilted smirk on his face, and you canât help but want to keep annoying him. But he needs far more than this right now, and youâre not here to get on his nerves. So you walk up to him until determined arms wrap around his waist, kissing his chin.
âYou okay?â you ask.
âWellâŚâ Heâs quieter than heâs been in the last few days and it disheartens you. Somehow fatigued, eyes halfway closed. âYou know.â
You do know. Or perhaps, you donât, but you can well imagine.
Youâre not sure how he took all of this day in, day out for so many years, but you understand the weight of the situation a lot better now. Of course your mind would be rewired if you hurt this much all the time.
Whatever youâre seeing now is a fraction of what he experienced.
âItâs going to be okay,â you remind him again.
âYeah.â He sniffles. âHey. I have a little surprise for you tomorrow. It was spoiled a bit, but youâre right.â A peck to your nose. âYou donât know anything yet. But youâll like it, I think.â
You donât doubt it; you guess it helps, not being aware of much at all. Waiting for the surprise.
But then againâŚ
When you look at him again, excitement flickering in those tired eyes of his and a hand pushing against the small of your back lightly, you think that you know a couple things at least.
âOkay. Hold on. Youâre definitely going too fast!â
âThis is too fast? You shouldâve seen Junghyun and me racing years ago.â
You lower your head in an attempt to hide it from the wind, seeking his sweater; itâs impossible from this angle. Youâre at the front, surviving between his arms as he navigates the bicycle recklessly.Â
The wind slaps your face, cooler this noon than yesterday. The bike writhes on the road, and you yell out, âMan, Iâll die!â
âBaby!â he exclaims back.
His laugh is louder than the gust as you hold onto his moving thighs and then realise itâs of no help. You shift your hands to the front of the cycle, wondering when itâll hit an unforeseen rock and tip over.
âHey,â he tries again when you only scream back, âhave you never been on a bike before?â
âOf course I have!â You resist the urge to add a curse. Heâll kill the two of you. The streets are steep, probably a hill, going downwards. âJust never two people at once.â
âI did it a lot! With friends, and mostly with Gureum.â
Gureum⌠his dog. You have yet to meet him.
âGureum?â you repeat.
âYeah! Heâd sit in the basket and⌠and enjoy the wind. Eyes closed.â He pants between cycling. âI told you, no?â
But your thoughts are elsewhere, chin dropping to your clavicles as if not looking could save you. âFucking hellââ
âOkay. OkayâŚâ
The bike stops abruptly, and you yelp, shutting your eyes tight and preparing yourself to die. But death doesnât come; a tap to your hip does. His fingers hold you, calming you, words the opposite as he orders, âAlright. Get off my bike. You can walk the rest of the distance.â
Between the sniffling and the reclaiming of control of your trembling legs, you register the surprising command, and mumble, âWhat?â
âYou heard me, sweetheart. Iâll wait at the flower field.â
You dare a look over your shoulder. His expression is serious, an eyebrow cocking. You want to retort something snarky, tell him youâll stay on if he just slows down, for the love of God; but instead, you look ahead, and decode the view immediately.
The grass is high and the place wide. Youâre right where the field begins, the road more narrow here, only really enough for cyclists and walkers. You roll your eyes, getting off as you tell him, âYouâre terrible. Weâre already here.â
He laughs, dropping the bike to the side carelessly before he reaches for your messed up hair. Fixes at least the front of it, flattening it in the back. Youâre glad thereâs no mirror around.
Then, he proceeds to grab your hand, a finger pointing to the place and says, âLook around.â
You do. Itâs widely open and empty. A decent amount of flowers; you imagine a plethora of them in the summer and the spring. Now that fall is in full effect and itâs a little colder here than on your coastal vacation, you reckon that this isnât usually all how the field looks.
But itâs beautiful. In the far, far back, you see the forest expand. Slightest traces of autumn foliage. The leaves will fall and entirely bare the trees soon.
âThis is so pretty,â you say.
âRight?â
âWas this the surprise?â
âI mean,â he cards his fingers through his hair, but as he grabs the willow wicker from the larger cycle basket, the mane is blown back into his sight just a moment later, âyeah. But the actual surprise is a bit further down the field. Come.â
He guides the way, and you put your all into deciphering what he might be hinting at, only for him to say, âDonât look so hard. You will see it in a moment anyway.â
The laugh he elicits is sweet, a thumb touching the back of your hand. Your shoulders drop in relaxation, and you shift your attention to the grass and the flowers, trying not to stomp on any of those that are still left for this fall.
A couple feet forward, you tell him, âYou know I still need to meet Gureum.â
âI know. He was with Ria since we canât really take care of him when weâre away.â
âYou could take him to the city.â
âIâd do anything to be able to. But Gureum is⌠a free dog. He wouldnât enjoy life in a smaller apartment after running around for so long.â
Ah⌠You feel the opposite still; jumped from a large cage into a homey, sheltered cube happily. But you get it; the freedom here doesnât compare to a crowded city, does it?
âBut,â Jungkook continues, âRia said sheâd bring him over this noon, so he should be there when we get home.â
âDamn. Why am I more excited about this than necessary?â
âOh, you should be. I am, too⌠heâs my old boy.â
The oxymoron grants you a smile; to a parent, a baby stays a baby. Most of the time, at least. Jungkook feels something for Gureum, and even a stranger, lost and unknowing, could piece this bit together within a heartbeat.
âHeâs old?â you wonder.
âHeâs twenty years old. A bit slower now but⌠the same amount of love in his heart.â
One shall learn how to love and be kind from Jeon Jungkook. Then again, heâd be an excellent example, but a bad teacher. Wouldnât know what to say. Wouldnât be able to really pick out what makes him so pure-hearted.
He just is⌠He just is.
âI canât fucking wait,â you say, inspirited.
The sight changes along with his expressions as you walk down the field. From happiness to a smile to excitement and then contentment. The flowers mostly disappear, giving way to something you donât really recognise.
Orderly rows, bright green leaves and⌠more plants? As you inbreathe the air, however, you swear you recognise the sweet and fresh scent. Even from here, itâs distinct and special.
And when you trudge closer, finally glancing down, you understand.
JungkookâŚ
He took you strawberry picking.
You see them low on the ground, clustered, ripe and red. Pretty. Enough to warrant a dozen adjectives; yet, you only whisper, âWow.â
He waits⌠then waits more. Lets your eyes scan the area and the fruits, permits you to take in what he probably reckons youâve never seen before in this form. And heâs right â you havenât.
âYou like it?â he questions. âI was unsure, like⌠maybe youâre underwhelmed?â
Your head turns towards him at light speed. âWhat? Iâm not. Iâve never seen anything like this before,â you confirm, repeating your thoughts, âI am definitely not underwhelmed. This is⌠this is something my younger self craved.â
âOhâ Really? How so?â
You hum. Think back to late nights in the back of your bed, a room larger than what you needed, yet smaller than your imagination. Smaller than your heart.
âI read stories,â you tell him, âfairy tales. Watching tales of love in the countryside. We donât have these places in the city, do we?â
Jungkookâs hand, on your back a second ago, travels up to the back of your neck, touching it gently. âI guess youâd have to find a farm.â He stares ahead where you do, still standing there, unmoving. Then, âAngel?â
âYeah.â
âYou said you went on a field trip to a farm, right?â
âI⌠can only really remember once in school. Kids were shitty.â You spoke about this once; last month, he promised youâd see Riaâs farm, too. Funny that she actually did show you. âAnd my parents werenât really interested in that stuff. Which I do kinda get because many city people arenât.â
âMhm, I can understand.â He shuffles his feet, presumably a little sad for you, regarding the long row of strawberries stretching to his right. Youâre about to crouch and try without a clue what to do when he, instead of commenting on things much more, asks, âOkay, so. Wanna pick strawberries?â
âYes!â You rub your hands, taking a step forward, but pausing again; you could start anywhere. âWill you show me how?â
âOf course.â He hums, looking for an easy spot with an accumulation of easy-to-pick fruits; then, he lifts his jeans by a couple inches and lowers his body. âLook. You can crouch or kneel.â
You give your clothes a lookover. Just some everyday jeans; they should be able to take some dirt. In actuality, though, you mightâve joined him on the ground anyway. So you do, kneeling with your hands on your thighs, obediently listening.
âYou look so cute.â He chuckles, the back of his fingers barely grazing your cheek for a moment. As he sniffles, his chin nods towards the plants, hands reaching for them. âSo. You gently pull the leaves aside and just pick the strawberries. Avoid those that arenât red, though, okay?â
His pinky touches parts of an unripe strawberry still in the ground, and he explains, âYouâll know that oneâs ripe when it comes off easily. Like this,â he tugs at it, âisnât ripe. Wonât come off so well. Mmmh. Letâs try this one.â
You follow his movements until he settles for a particularly pretty and seemingly juice berry; with ease, he plucks it off by grasping the stem and twisting a little, and says, âSee? You could eat this one right now. But⌠basket?â You shove it towards him and he throws the berry inside. âWeâll wash it before that.â
Itâs quiet and sweet here as he works on explaining the process to you. An atmosphere you havenât ever witnessed anywhere before. Itâs probably different in the spring, but youâre alone here; even if someoneâs around somewhere, you canât see them from where you sit.
And it helps you focus: on how concentrated he looks, lower lip pouting, crouching easily with his sweater sleeves rolled up. Itâs unusual how his tattooed hand works on the plants. Your first imagination of such a task always involves straw hats and dungarees.
âTry it, too,â he then instructs.
He puts a gentle palm on your back as you get up from kneeling, now crouching as he is, and cast about for a couple good pieces. Whenever you think youâve found one, you seek confirmation in his eyes, repeating, âIs this okay?â
And he always promises, âYouâre doing well. Look,â he inspects one of your choices, âpicking the best even.â
âYouâll have to eat mine, then.â
âSure will. I knew youâd be so good at this.â
Youâre surprised; you never saw yourself doing this, even though you yearned for a life so different than the one you lived. Until you stepped off his bicycle twenty minutes ago, you had never come up with such an idea. All the more reason to be thankful to him.
But you do wonder why heâd perceive something like this far before you did, so you ask, âReally? Why?âÂ
He uttered the words so casually, pupils fixated on the basket; he might not have noticed how immediately you reacted. Because he hums now, looking at you with immense eyes, matter-of-factly spelling out, âBecause youâre gentle. This called for you.â
Because youâre gentle. Because youâre gentle.
The reasoning, so clear to him, repeats in your mind. Itâs not as obvious to you; itâs been a while since you thought of your qualities, and in the last months, being gentle often meant the same to you as quietly enduring.
So youâre touched, silenced by the lump in your throat; such an easy sentence, but so filled with knowledge about a person that only truly occurs with the purest of affections.
As you stare at him, you feel the fondness spreading over your countenance as much as the leaves tickling your ankle; you hold the current strawberry delicately as you conclude, âThatâs why you brought me here, yeah?â
âThat too.â
Oh.
âWhat else?â
âYou canât do this every day,â he argues, âI want to show you new places and things.â
You graze the vulnerable skin of the strawberries collecting in the basket, watching it fill enough to feed a couple people. Grabbing it, you lift your body with a smile. For a minute, your knee aches from the crouching, and your brain gathers the sensations into one to create another core memory.
Lost for words, you merely tell him, âThank you, Kook, IâŚâ You heave the basket to your chest, touching his hand as he rises, too. âHow do you even come up with all this?â
âHow I come up with it? Hmm⌠I guess you make it easy to do.â He laughs, and you follow, reading your mind as he voices the same thought flashing through your brain. âI know Iâll be so nostalgic about this someday. In ten years, maybe.â
Cheeks hot despite the autumn wind, you register the butterflies immediately. Right under the basket, underneath your skin, like a swarm awaking from metamorphosis. The fact that he thinks ahead like this, paints a distant future with you⌠wanting you for this long drives you insane.
Jungkookâs voice always lacks uncertainty when it comes to you.
Mellow when he speaks to you, gentle even when he asks, âMore?â
âMmmh⌠yes. Can do a few more. And itâs fun.â So you do; picking and plucking until you can barely carry the basket anymore, already wondering what to do with the bunch until you pop the idea, âCan we eat some of these?â
âNow?â
âYeah.â
âOf course. Gotta wash them, though.â
Which isnât as easy as it sounds. It takes you a good moment to find a water tap on the wide field; one only crosses your way when you travel back to where the bike stands, proving as dysfunctioning and broken.
And only once youâve reached nearly the end of the field and already detect the narrow path that you cycled along from afar, your luck strikes. You wash a handful of your harvest and place them neatly at the top of the rest, right above a handkerchief Jungkook whipped out from his pocket.
The grass isnât high everywhere; you find an ideal spot for a brief, spontaneous picnic, pleasant and comfortable; a fluffy blanket of nature. You watch ladybugs and ants crawl over blades of grass; not too much more, considering the season.
Jungkook works through the content of the basket, soon holding a piece to your mouth, âTake this,â he says, pushing it through your parted lips; waits until youâve chewn most of it. âAnd?â
The initial taste is good, but the aftertaste dramatically makes your world quiver. Whatever youâve known about food and fruits so far must have been a hoax, because you canât fake the way your eyes widen and your voice raises in pitch, delighted as you say, âThis is⌠so damn good.â
âRight?â
âThey donât taste like this in the city!â
âYeah,â Jungkook chooses a smaller one from the collection, throwing it into his mouth as a whole, âthese are fresh. No bullshit berries.â
âNo bullshit berries indeed. So good.â
âYou picked good ones!â
âBut this is a curse, too!â you exclaim, urging a laugh out of him that he transforms into a kiss to your temple, observing as you munch the strawberries as though encountering them for the first time. And you pout as you say, â Keep me from eating them all. I want to take the rest home.â
âSure, donât worry. We can put them somewhere and take them back on the last day.â
âHm? Oh. No, I meant today. Home, your houseâŚâ You realise your mistake. âSorry.â
Only, he doesnât deem it a mistake for a moment. He didnât think youâd feel this cosy this fast â but it was what heâd hoped and opted for, so itâs a win either way. His family as your home, him as your home.
He thinks, you finally do feel at home. It took you years of endurance, didnât it?
âHome, yeah?â he mutters. âAn apology is the last thing Iâd want, angel. Youâre home, alright.â
You wish you had an equally meaningful answer; whatever you might babble now, you donât think you could do justice to the soft tone he settled on. You canât even outdo his gaze, so round, eyes so big on his otherwise clear-cut face.
What you can do is smile. Draw closer until your shoulders touch. About to taste the strawberry-flavoured, red tinted lips before a sudden motion drowns your plans.
The bunny flits over your feet; youâre sure it jumps onto yours for a moment and then uses them to push itself off into the grass, journeying on. The yelp it elicits out of you merges with the startled sound Jungkook emits.
His elbow lightly hits the side of your breast, and you pull your legs into your chest as self-defence. But itâs gone as fast as it appeared, and barely a second later, youâre watching it hop away, little ears disappearing in the distance.
âWell,â Jungkook breathes, âat least thatâs normal. Iâll tell you about my snake encounters later some day.â
A hand on your chest, you exclaim, âOh my God. You know what?â You calm down your lowkey panting, hand falling back into your lap, âMaybe you were right. Weâre home for sure.â
âOh⌠yeah?â
âYeah! Totally looked like you⌠thought we were back home.â
Jungkook laughs out, head throwing back, and then, amidst his giggle, he throws a âShut upâ at you. The tackle nearly pushes you to the ground before his lips attack your face all over; making out on a countryside field wasnât on your bucket list, but you sure as hell will add it only to tick it off.
His tongue really does taste like strawberries. His lips are sweet; the hand on your waist careful yet explorative. If the grass wasnât this cruel, tickling all over your body, youâd probably remain here for the next hour.
Let him strip you bare. Kiss you into the earth. Nobodyâs here; you donât think youâve ever fantasised of such a moment before, but suddenly, you donât mind loving him right here.
But maybe heâs fostering the same thoughts as you, pulling back with a little groan when the blades prick his cheeks and closed eyes. Endurance isnât easy right now; and you have a lot planned for the rest of the day anyway.
So you pull yourself together, and nod when he finally asks, âWanna go?â
Somehow, it takes you a little longer to get home than it did to reach the field. Perhaps because heâs cycling uphill now, or maybe because the sun is at its zenith, warming the colder day. The comfort makes you want to stay in this moment, have his voice laughing next to your ear.
On a bike swaying when he loses focus, rolling dangerously to tease you on purpose.
And when you get back to his house, youâre greeted with yet another surprise. Itâs fluffy and sweet and white like a cloud, living up to its name. A tongue sticks out, tail wiggling, right at the door when Jungkook opens it.
Gureum is small, smiling as far as youâre aware of a dogâs joy. You once heard that upon seeing their owner, the same hormone floods their tiny bodies as a humanâs when they fall in love. Gureum must feel much like you do when Jungkook comes home.
You understand.
Understand when Gureum jumps up to Jungkookâs legs, licking his humanâs face when your boyfriend picks him up. Jungkookâs voice changes so much that you barely recognise it; youâve never heard him talk like this. Higher, lovelier, slurred to imitate the language babies speak.
The affection is unfiltered and crystal clear.
Jungkookâs smile brightens until it reaches its maximum, bunny teeth flashing, the laugh erupting so deeply from his chest. Authentic. Eyes nearly closed as he calls Gureumâs name, plays with his face, as if communicating with a child.
Twenty years, and he still thinks of him as his baby. Sometimes, all golden stays.
âBaby,â he says after a while once Gureum has stopped licking his face, introducing, âthis is my Gureum.â
You set the basket down next to the door, reaching a careful hand to Gureumâs head; but heâs cooperative. Lets you easily. âHi Gureum,â you whisper, ânice to finally meet you. Youâre so cute!â
âHeâs a little sick these days, but,â Jungkook gazes down again, kissing Gureumâs ears. âHe gets through it so well, doesnât he? Yes, he does.â
The laugh is real. The affection is real. Tender and deep-rooted. He smooches him again, and then puts a cheek to his warm fur. Youâve never seen him like this. Youâve never fallen deeper.
âI missed you so much, too, buddy,â he says, âso, so much.â
You swear you see Gureum cuddling into Jungkookâs chest. Doesnât move even when youâve settled in the living room, resting from the journey. Youâd drafted plans for the rest of today, but it doesnât seem theyâll separate, and you donât want them to.
You can wait. Things can wait.
You sit by Jungkookâs side as he pets him, his head soon on your shoulder, one hand in the white fur, the other holding yours. Itâs how you remain for a bit.
In hindsight, albeit never having plucked strawberries before, today wasnât some grand adventure across the world. You didnât strike a deal at work or fight off some paparazzi hiding in an unexpecting corner. And you didnât climb a mountain.
But you guess thatâs what you craved all your life. Somehow, this is better than any crazy escapade.
The serenity that comes with a mundane moment. A love that consumes you and a love that helps you commit the most casual of acts to memory.
Maybe this is enough. An old couch lightly creaking as you move; a cloud blinking as you caress its head. Surprises to help you experience saccharine afternoons.
You remain for a bit, and then remain a little longer.
Ria came through the door not too long after youâd returned, ready for the evening plans. Sheâd promised to accompany the two of you to the centre of the town, giving you a tour of the most important and ancient of places.
You learned about the townâs only drapery seamstress and the best flower shop. Much as it so occurs in 70s and 80s movies, you met the son of a mechanic. He told you heâd be inheriting the company one day, and that it was okay because he never intended to leave anyway.
Riaâs eyes suspiciously widened as she spoke to him, and she lingered for a moment longer than you did after your farewell. The guy had forgotten that there was work to do by the time she finally bid him goodbye.
Jungkookâs eyes squinted at the sight, but not even he could hide his endeared smile. Pressed into Riaâs shoulder with a teasing hum.
You rewarded yourself for the dayâs many steps with some soft serve in front of the city hall, talking and delivering anecdotes until the sun started setting.
As the evening concludes, youâre the last to appear at dinner. His family is already sitting here, politely waiting and sweetly welcoming once youâve washed up and hopped into the dining room with a vibrant smile.
Youâre in a good mood. Evidently so; the scent of strawberries and the taste of his mouth still linger, and youâre still coming down from the high when you chime, âIâm sorry for being late.â
âDonât worry about it at all,â his mother assures, âwe just sat down.â
âI really wanted to help, though.â
Itâs true. His mother has been nothing but the ultimate host. You wanted to prove productive and useful, but then Eun had called to check in on you and delayed your plans.
âHmm, you know what?â his mother utters, pouring you some Jjamppong. âThe wedding isnât until one, so we could get up earlier and make strawberry jam in the morning? If youâd like.â
The wedding has been in the back of your mind constantly, slowly sneaking to the forefront with an intense nervousness. Youâre timid because of how itâll turn out, how people will perceive you, if theyâll talk to you. How Jungkook will look at you.
How much love might spread; how much certain people might tone down their resentment.
Learning yet another skill such as making jam might just be the best distraction. So you nod wildly, only interrupted when Jungkook asks, âCan I join, too?â
But you change the movements of your head to a shake, jesting about quality time and whatnot until he surrenders, âAlright. Way to shut out the boyfriend and son, I see you.â
âSpeaking of food,â you say, pausing, slurping a big bite of noodles; theyâre spicier than youâre used to from city restaurants. Better, too. You point your chopsticks to your dinner. âMay I have the recipe?â
As his father and brother indulge in their food, acting as quiet listeners, his mother answers, âIâm sure Jungkook has it. Iâm offended he never cooked it for you, since they had it a lot growing up.â
âOffended indeed. You learned this?â
âOh, this?â Jungkookâs eyebrows, hitherto sporting a crease between them â a telltale sign of a well-eating Jeon â relax. âYeah! I was learning when I was like, what, fifteen?â He seeks approval from his mother, who soon nods. âI fully butchered it when I tried it for the first time.â
Junghyun chuckles. âEven I remember.â
âYeah, you refused to help!â Jungkook complains, whining when Junghyun hits his brotherâs elbow with his own. âAnd I burned my wrist and had the wound for ages. Couldnât do much in P.E.â
Much as yesterday, it seems his father hasnât learned; because as you feared, itâs only now when he melts and intervenes. You almost surmise heâs provoking on purpose when he queries, âWhen you were fifteen when? I canât remember any wounds.â
Jungkook scoffs. âAre you telling me Iâm making it up again?â
âNo, Iâm just saying I donât remember.â
âThatâs because you were at work and didnât pick up my many calls. Mom was sick that week⌠It's why I wanted to cook and learn at all.â He nods towards his brother. âJunghyun remembers because he went to a friend and then rushed home to bring me to the hospital. None of it sounds familiar to you, does it?â
Jungkook lists and narrates the happening with a flat voice, as if recalling items still left to purchase for tomorrowâs meal. Heâs stirring his soup and his father is stirring everyone elseâs, uncaring as he responds, âI didnât know.â
âItâs fine. You probably didnât care.â
âNonsense.â
Another, âAs much as the last years,â added to the mix, you opt for his hand under the table again, but he pulls away. Youâre left dumbfounded, looking at him in surprise. This has never happened before; heâs never been upset in such a way.
As if to signal, âItâs fine. Itâs whatever. Let me deal with this.â
But he canât deal with it; you see the beginning signs of a rising chest and a decreasing appetite. Nobody just plays with the content of such a rich soup for this long; least of all a foodie like him. Heâs busy looking at it, propping his elbow on the table.
You stare for a little longer, and then turn back to your food.
It sounds like itâs over. And itâs quiet; maybe you could interrupt with something else, change the course of the conversation. But his father isnât done yet.
No. You notice everybody elseâs irritation when he opens his mouth to speak again. They sigh, forming a line with their lips when he emits a question that leaves even you in disbelief, âWhy are you saying this?â
âCome on,â his mother tries, wanting to ease the tension, but Jungkook is faster.
âWhat? I mean, I donât know?â he starts, once again an equal amount of fear and annoyance in his voice. âI barely ever hear from you, Dad.â With each word, he grows more daring, at the end of his capacities when he eventually curses, âWe live in the same city, for fuckâs sakeââ
âJungkookââ Junghyun interrupts.
âWhat? Itâs true. Even the last hundred times, Mom visited alone. Couldâve at least come over and said Hi to my girlfriend.â
âIâm here now and saying Hi, though,â you try, weakly smiling.
âAnd heâs here, too. How grand of him.â
Fuck.
âStop the attitude,â his father warns, âyou couldâve come over plenty of times, too.â
âAre you hearing yourself? News flash, I did. I tried to talk to you, too. If I was still fourteen, Iâd still be apologising. Oh, or is that what you want? Is it what you want?â
âWhat are you talking abââ
âIâm talking about how I really wanted to tell you about a shit ton of things. Like when Nara and I broke up,â amidst the already tense moment, your heart pains for a second, âor when I graduated. Or when I was having a really fucking hard time this summer and needed somebody and then when I fell in love and needed to tell somebody, and⌠where are you all the time anyway? Who fucking knows â I donât!â
It worsens and worsens. Crashes and burns; every word splits the air in the room. You donât know how to save the moment anymore; maybe youâre not supposed to. You can only lend him courage. Perhaps heâs supposed to finally say all this.
But itâs hard to listen.
Because as the waterfall of grief cascades, you hear Jungkookâs voice quiver. Heâs about to break. Right here, in front of everybody, youâre about to witness the woe this man inflicted on him all his life.
And you see it; see parts of this very torture when his father reveals who heâs become over the decade. The one Jungkook described to you; empty of empathy and understanding.
Because again, he renders you in shock when he speaks again. Fucking nasty, nitpicking and focusing on only one aspect, attacking somebodyâs pride.
âGet a grip over yourself! You graduated in arts â you didnât conquer the world. And you hold a grudge whenââ
âI hold a grudge? I do? Youâre the fucking one who shunned a kid because of a mistake andââ
âI do not want to hear about this. Not again.â
As their voices grow, so does your heartbeat. The anxiety is unbearable; you can barely imagine the one spreading through Jungkookâs chest. His face is red, neck hot, veins about to pop. If you could, youâd slap your hands over your ears.
But you canât listen away; canât ignore the panic, either.
âPlease, stop,â you say, moving, but Jungkook frees himself of your grip again, stands. You attempt again, âStop it, baby.â
But he wonât listen, mind somewhere else entirely.
âYou wonât blame me for shit you did years ago, you canâtââ his father insists, butâŚ
âOh, fuck off.â
âWatch your moââ
âOr whaââ
His fatherâs face, similarly scarlet as his sonâs, grows a shade darker at the shameless counter, and his large hand lifts in slow motion for you. Comes down with a thump, intending to slap the wooden table, but hitting the edge of his small kimchi bowl again.
It flies up inches into the air before suddenly rolling off the table, aligning with you and soon falling onto your lower arm with a painful impact. It topples down onto your knee before it meets the ground and shatters into a handful of pieces.
You gasp and shriek, more out of surprise than pain; but Jungkookâs reaction is immediate. He bolts towards you, protecting you from whatever danger might be left. Pulls you off your seat and away from the shards as dead silence befalls the room.
Itâs filled with your shaky breaths and the way his mother and brother shove their chairs back, hands reaching for you. Jungkook keeps you out of their reach. Looks at his father for a couple seconds; then to the kimchi on the ground; then back to him.
You canât see him properly until you move to glance at him, wanting to keep his anger low, but⌠you donât think you can do much anymore.
The fire in his eyes is blue.
And his voice is strained but furious when he finalises through gritted teeth, âYou are fucking insane.â
This time, the man doesnât answer. You hear his wife utter something as if scolding him before she speaks up and offers to clean up the mess. But Jungkook shakes his head, âNo need. He can do it.â
Then, turning to his father, he repeats, âYouâre fucking insane. Youâre a terrible parent and we all know and only you canât admit it to yourself. I just didnât think youâd develop into a terrible person, too.â
Still long fingers around your wrist, he moves you towards the stairs, rounding off the fight with one more, âDonât fucking get near me or her, do you understand? Fuck.â
So many words exchanged, but it was the stupid kimchi covering your pyjamas to make him topple over the edge. You feel guilty, but you donât. Itâs the man downstairs that has so fucking much to reflect on.
God. You wanted this vacation to relax Jungkook, to soothe you, to turn the first painful half of the year into something glorious.
ButâŚ
Then again, didnât you expect this? Werenât you scared of this?
Didnât you fear the exact manner in which he now leads you to his room, in which the slamming of the door rings in your ears, his hands in his hair?
Heâs let you go and stranded in his room. Itâs odd, the way you stand here, clothes dirty and the grief dirtier.Â
You walk towards him cautiously, watching him shiver, and reach for his wrists in turn this time. Itâs a featherlight touch, but you feel the tremble underneath your fingers. And you instantly notice when he starts coming undone. When his lips shake, too.
Even with his head lowered, you recognise the wet waterline, and how it takes a handful more heavy breaths until you hear the first sob. You hug him. You hug him right away. Hold him close and closer.
You make a weak attempt at pulling him to the bed, but heâs already in the process of breaking down, his body getting heavier, falling. The carpet offers solace as his knees suddenly hit the ground. His arms hold onto your hips and his face buries in your chest.
When his breathing turns irregular, so does yours; you feel like the world is splitting and the sky crashing down.Â
His leg comes in touch with your messed up clothes, and when he looks up into your eyes, heâs already crying. A trail of tears courses down his cheeks as his pupils suddenly shake, looking for something, asking you, âDid he hurt you, baby?â
âKookâŚâ
âLet me see, you must be hurt, youâ you were just wearing these thin ass slippers without socks, right? The fucking bowl shattered andâŚâ
âIâm okay, Kookie. Iâm not hurt, I promise.â
âNo, but⌠it fell on you, it mustâ did it bruise your knee?â he continues hectically, inspecting you, never seeing anything. He cradles your face, still crying and sniffling, shoving his pain aside to make sure, âPlease tell me if anything hurts, âkay? I will get something, Iâllâ dunno, fucking smash his fucking face, Iâllââ
His mind is going haywire. A proper downward spiral, and you donât know how to stop it. What the fuckâ what the fuckâŚ
âJungkookâ Jungkook, please,â you try, lowering his hand, but he wonât stop searching for signs of injury. âBaby, please.â
âWhy is he like this? I just⌠man, I am trying, angel.â His voice falls at the last word; your heart fractures at the same time as it tries to keep his intact. âI am trying so hard in life for him to like me, and you⌠youâre here, so I thought heâd behave and insteadââ
âI know. Itâs okay.â
Itâs not, but you canât say it. Canât say how much the meaning behind your stained clothes hurts. How much it connects to what the weeping man in your arms feels; how he looked forward to this, planning ahead, a surprise for everyday without anticipating such ruin.
And heâs as clueless as you. More broken than you ever anticipated. Resembling the burst dish one floor beneath you, holding you like an anchor, crying into your chest.
He keeps repeating the same things as you repeat yours, soon mumbling his words of trying and trying and constantly trying. Of wanting to be loved. Attempting to understand if itâs too much to ask for. Is it?
Why canât he love me?
And you whisper back, He loves you. He does.
Itâs easy, falling into such misery. There were moments not too far in the past where you were on the receiving end of such pain, and he was your life vest. You donât know if youâre keeping him above the surface as well as he did, because you keep susurrating the hopeful mantra to him.
But he keeps believingâ
âNo⌠no, he never fucking did. Whâwho treats someone like this?â
âSome people forget, you know⌠how to show affection. Sometimes, they deem their pride more important. It says nothing about you.â You lift his chin, heartbroken upon detecting his reddened eyes. âEveryone else in this stupid world loves you.â
âYour mother doesnât eitherâŚâ
âMy mother? The woman who hates literally everyone?â You smile, trying to make him imitate it, but he doesnât. You brush his cheeks and then his hair. âI do. I love you. I knew who you were even when I was unbiased.â
âDidnât you⌠hate me, too?â
Once again, you try a faint smile. Not for him to join in, but because youâre reminded of a foolish friendship; it had already long bloomed into more when youâd finally named it one.
âNot for a second,â you say.
Break in discussion. Heâs still shedding tears, snivelling. Stays frozen like this, all of him unable to move except for his lips. They mutter, âI donât ever want you to get hurt. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with me, butâŚâ
âYeah. Iâm okay. Weâre okay.â
âI love you,â he maffles weakly, âI love you. I love you.â
âI know. I love you, too.â
You feel as though offering solace to a child. As if heâs shrunk into what he used to be, in the very room he used to sulk. The trauma still belongs to a kid, and when hurt, heâll turn him into one, too.
You hate it. Hate that his sorrow still belongs to such a young heart. That he never processed it.
Before you came here, you spoke about it. And once youâre back in the city, youâll have to figure things out further; the time constraints just before you drove away didnât allow you to take much into consideration.
You can only cry now, canât you? Detest the dampness in your own eyes. Stay right here until some sign occurs, lifting you up from the ground.
And it does fifteen minutes later.
The knock is gentle, just two of them, and you tell Jungkook to wait, that youâd be back in a minute. As you stand, his back is bent, his head lowered. As if heâs sleepwalking or slowly fainting.
You shut your eyes for a second; then open them again.
Behind the door, his mother awaits. In her soft hands, sheâs balancing a tray holding some food. She lifts it towards you, tells you, âThe two of you barely ate.â
Upon a closer look, you realise that her eyes are swollen, too. The view nearly forces you to tear up again, your face seethingly hot. You want to hug her. Want to tell her youâre sorry. Instead, you only touch her shoulder, and mutter a grateful thank you.
âItâs okay.â
She sounds so pained. You wonder if she said something to her husband. Reprimanded him, cried for his son, grieved a childhood and life that couldâve been.
But she doesnât say any of it, and neither do you mention it. You only agree, âIt will be. Are we still making jam tomorrow?â
âYes. Tell Jungkook he can come if he wants to.â
âYeah⌠I was thinking that, too.â You stare down to your food, never noticing how she peeks past your shoulder. Sees her son unmoving on the floor; she knows she canât do more than you are right now. So she only nods when you repeat, âThank you so much.â
You wish her a good night, bringing the food to where your boyfriend sits. Put it down in front of him.
âSit upright, baby?â you ask him, crushed by the sight of swollen cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. His lips are parted, his breathing still stagnant; he only stares at his food until you push the tray closer to him and say, an attempt at a smile, âLetâs eat a bit. Mother-in-law brought it for us.â
No smile back, but a sniffle. The crying subsides just a bit as a shaking hand grabs the spoon, slurping the soup before he can even think of the noodles. He eats a little, slowly, surely. You help when he needs it, feed him a bite, encourage him to one more.
Every other minute, he cries again. You wipe the tears away, try to make him eat more.
His father fucked him up. You knew about the issues and demons Jungkook combatted. Of course his mentality suffered; of course there are parts of him that might never heal⌠But you never quite understood the full effect.Â
His father fucked him up good; got him so bad. Parts of both of them are so ultimately ruptured, arenât they?
Whenever he winds down, you eat in silence, right there on the ground on top of the old carpet. When he canât swallow anymore, still some left in his bowl â Jungkook barely ever doesnât finish his food â you move up to the bed with him.
You kiss his hair repeatedly, as if it could heal him just a little, to even the tiniest percentage. You donât know how much of an effective bandage you are to him, but you know youâre doing at least something.
Because he whispers another I love you before the gut-wrenching sounds of his sobs have finally faded out, still echoing in the room. His tiny, shrunk voice says, âIâm looking forward to tomorrow with you.â
And somehow, it pains you even more. The hopeful tone; the wish for a day to not hurt.
âMe too, baby,â you say, âitâs nobody but us, okay?â
âYeah⌠yeah.â
And thatâs it. Itâs all you can do for now; understanding the heavy heart the night cursed you with.
But as you drift away, you keep pleading. Pleading and pleading and pleading for a better tomorrow without getting a promise back.
To your chagrin but least of your surprise, Jungkook doesnât join your jam-making session the next morning.
When you stirred awake for a little bit, eyes still sleep-drunk and body falling, your phone flashed seven thirty in the morning. Not ready to start the day yet and doubting anybody else had gotten out of bed, you cuddled into his body, and he, while deep in his slumber, must still have noticed.
Pulled you in more, smacking his lips and sighing a little, a warm hand at the back of your head. Secured in his embrace, you fell asleep again.
Only to awake two hours later without him by your side. Youâre already washed up and somewhat sobered up from sleep, and youâve looked on the first and ground floor. You canât find him.
His mother informed you that she and her husband would be leaving to join the wedding earlier, to help out with the preparations and make sure the plans all sit. You offered your help, but she claimed theyâd be okay, and that you can still use the morning after the jam lesson to rest.
Perhaps Jungkook has embarked on a journey then, using this time to do something in the early morning.Â
Once youâve walked into the kitchen, greeting his mother with a smile and a good morning, you ask, âNervous for the wedding?â
âMmmh, kind of,â she answers, locking the phone she held, putting it aside to sip her tea, âbut it should be good since we took care of most of the stuff pretty well. Itâll be wonderful. Except the damn Wedding March â we couldnât settle on any song but this.â
âI canât wait. I bet itâll be beautiful.â You take a seat in front of her, hearing the sounds of the TV and quiet conversations. Among the voices, you recognise two, but his is neither of them. Youâre not interested in joining. So you look at her, scratching your temple as you inquire instead, âWhereâs Kook gone?â
Her forefinger points downwards, another blow to the tea and another swig. âBasement. I brought him some coffee, but he seemed busy and quiet, so I left him there. But,â her voice grows louder, enthusiastic, âyou can go! Maybe heâll be okay with that?â
HmmâŚ
âWhat did he go down for?â you ask.
âI think he was looking for something.â Now, she lowers her tone again, lower arms on the table. âHe also just⌠did that sometimes when he was younger, or after a fight.â
After a fight.
Like the breakdown last night. You understand.
You should probably walk down and check â but then again, this has seemingly been a coping mechanism ever since he was younger. So perhaps, you need to let him be for a little; give him a chance to entangle his thoughts and regain some peace.
You repeat your decision to her and she nods in understanding, throwing a glance to a huge jar on the kitchen counter. Youâre ready to deliver an answer before she even asks, âWant to help out then?â
âSure!â
The process is a patient one. Reminds you of when Jungkook told you how to pick the strawberries yesterday; gently, sweetly, with a tender touch and an even more delicate voice.
Jungkookâs mother takes the fruits out of the jar with care, explains to you to mash them and cook the jam with absolute soothing composure. The minutes pass so serenely that you imagine preparing meals with her on a cold winter evening, pleasing your soul to ensure not only a good nightâs sleep but lasting quiet of the soul, too.
You add the sugar and lemon juice to your mix, stirring and boiling the delicatesse before you put it in sterilised jars. She shows you how to sterilise them at all; you didnât think or know that such a step was necessary at all.
The making of it doesnât take too long; forty-five minutes tops. As you scanned the internet just before entering the kitchen almost an hour ago, it said it takes barely half an hour. But she demonstrated it all to you slowly, unrushed.
Youâre thankful.
âHave you ever made jam before?â she asks as you admire your creation.
You shake your head. âNo⌠I donât think Iâve tried such a thing at all. Itâs fun making things on your own. I mean, I do like to cook sometimes, but Iâm nowhere on Jungkookâs level, I donât think.â
She chuckles, nodding as if to confirm. Then clarifies, âYes, heâs enjoyed being involved in the kitchen ever since he was a teen. Especially before he left town and realised heâd have to cook on his own.â
You giggle with her, like with a friend or a trusted figure. Itâs so consoling, talking to her. Fun, smiles intact, still present when she asks, âHow are the two of you doing? I mean, you did move in together quite fast, so Iâm just wondering.â
Yes; she doesnât need to spell it out. You get it â youâve heard about this.
So-called relationship experts claim that taking decisions in the honeymoon phase isnât too healthy, warping your sense of reality and perception of the other person. You donât disagree, but you guess in this caseâŚ
âHonestly, itâs been good,â you respond. âWe have a couple heated evenings where we argue about stuff, but⌠itâs been healing. And he offered to move in when I really needed it.â
âYes, Jungkook told me.â Oh. âYou werenât at a very good place before. Please donât mind.â You shake your head in reassurance, urging her to go on. Itâs his mother; itâs fine to tell her if any of you is struggling. âIâm glad youâre there for each other because he wasnât at a good place either.â
You nearly donât dare to ask; in a way, she might know her son better than you know your boyfriend. Maybe; maybe not. You fear a disheartening answer when you ask, âDo you think he is now?â
But she, careful as ever, tells you honestly, âItâll probably take time to get over things, butâ itâll be okay. Things seem a little better, though, if you want my neutral POV.â
âAh⌠okay. That helps.â You play with the white-dotted red band around the jar. Your mind circles around a million questions that only she might be able to answer; yet, cautiously, all you query is, âDo you ever⌠have you ever spoken to him? Or his dad? About all the thingsâŚâ
You reckon that if heâs talked about the two of you before, he probably mentioned spilling his secrets to you, too. At least from your perspective, itâs obvious that he entrusts her with his heart.
And once again, she affirms, âI have. Often. Even before the two of you came. Itâs why I told you to take your time getting here.â
Ah⌠Makes sense now. So thatâs why you had to roam the hotel until noon a couple days before. You sigh.
She continues, âIt just doesnât end well most of the time, so⌠And Iâm not a good talker. I donât know what to say anymore after so many years. Both want me on their side, though Jungkook never persists on it.â
Sheâs so wrong. Both she and him.
Jungkook has told you for months that heâs bad with words; yet, he comes in with every word ever written by any bard, singing poetry to you and bandaging your heart when needed.
You rememberâŚ
Iâm not good with words, baby. And I donât know how to ever properly verbalise something like this.
You sigh again. Tell her, âI understand. I also wouldnât expect you to go against either of them.â
âSure. But⌠It's difficult sometimes. Seeing how broken some of our bonds are.â
Youâve used and formed this word so many times before. Broken. For him, for you, for the world. Hearing somebody else share these sentiments and confirm your fears hurts.
And youâre out of words, wishing for a higher power to grant you a curing skill. If you could lift somebodyâs burden with a single touch, just the way youâre reaching out for her hand now, youâd be busy circling the globe at all times.
âIâm so sorry,â is all, however, you can offer.
You hate how helpless she is. You urge to say something more, to hug her and promise that the world always regains its colours at some point. But you remain like this, watching the jam in the jars; hearing her sayâ
âYou know. Jungkook has my number. I donât know how much you and your mother still talk, but⌠you can talk to me, too, if you ever need to. I mean, Iâm a mother.â She laughs at this part, raising a shoulder to her chin in pride, âAnd youâre part of him, so you can be part of us, too.â
Your eyes, locked onto the jar until now, flit up to her, and you blink to keep them dry, admitting without another thought, âI might actually cry.â
âOh. Awh,â she voices, lifting her hand from underneath yours to cover it again. âDonât. I didnât mean to be all kitsch. I meant it.â
Gathering your prior thoughts into words, you puff out a breath, sporting a reprimanding look as you say, âYouâre so wrong. You and your son, you always know what to say.â
Teeth flash again as she grins; she looks so innocent and pure. âWell, where do you think he got it from?â
ShitâŚ
âThank youâŚâ you mutter, body already twitching, yearning to bolt forwards until you finally dare to ask, âOkay. May I⌠Can I hug you?â
âMy goodness, love. You donât need to ask! Câmere.â
You instantly tear up when she pulls you in. Last time you met, she left a fleeting touch. You barely knew her then; in some way, you donât know her much now, either. But this⌠this is impactful.
The way she presses you into her; her chin on your shoulder. The slight pat and then the following rub up and down your shoulder blade. So warm; so salving.
One or two more pats, with a little more impact this time, she gently moves you back by your arms again, sucking in a breath as she suggests, âAlright. Wedding time, yes? We should start getting ready.â
âYes. ButâŚâ You hesitate, wonder how much you can interfere. But then you diminish your mental concerns, and simply utter, âIf you donât mind. May I suggest something?â
You walk down the steps to the basement.
The light is on; other than what mainstream movies might suggest, theyâve set up the interior of the basement prettily. The few furniture â a table and a couch chair, as well as a couple common chairs â is a light beige, the wallpapers light, flowery.
Heâs in the middle of the room, on the ground despite the many options to sit, sifting through pictures and objects lying around him. When he detects you, he flinches a bit, eyes big, moving suspiciously as if to hide something.
But you guess heâs just startled; and once he catches himself, he calls your name, wishing a sweet, âMorning, baby. Sorry for leaving the bed.â
âOh, hey. Itâs your house, you can do whatever you like. Besides, your mom and I had the time of our lives.â
He smiles brightly. You love, love, the wrinkles around his eyes. âMade some groundbreaking jam, yes?â
âYouâll see when you taste it.â You walk closer, recognising photo albums and frames. Yet, you ask, âWhat are you doing?â
âUhmmm, just looking through old stuff.â
The pictures are flipped, upside down from where you stand, so you round his body, legs folded on the floor. You come to a kneel, and just when youâre close enough, you see the pure sugar spilled in front of him.
Itâs in the form of fat baby cheeks. An open, surprised mouth. Then, in form of a photograph of a toddler crying. The same tremendous eyes and the same curve of his upper lip. A tilted smirk on one of them, just the one you know.
Theyâre adorable. You dissolve at the sight; at seeing him in a red vest, holding a half chewn corndog, tiny fingers forming a peace sign, and an unsure expression as if heâs seeing the world for the first time.
He does this often. Zone off like this.
Not rarely do you tease that heâs trudging through his first life, but he often refutes your theory with an immediate expression of shock. Chuckles back that it never feels like heâs loving you for the first time.
âWhy are you looking at these, Kook?â you ask, hands on his shoulder before you settle your chin on one of them, cheek to cheek.
âJust so. I knew there was a picture of my cousin somewhere, too. Look.â He shoves aside some of the photographs on top, fishing out a very old one. âThis is her. Gayoung.â
A lovely girl next to him, clearly older. Theyâre both holding car toys; heâs busy indulging in it, laughing, not noticing the flashing of the camera. But sheâs staring right into it, caught off guard, eyebrows high and mouth open.
âI canât believe sheâs getting married today,â Jungkook says. âSheâs like a daughter to my parents, but⌠I didnât get to talk that much with her anymore when she grew into an adult. Was more with Ria. And then I moved, too. But⌠itâs still crazy. I still remember her as a young but older sister.â
âOf course. Timeâs pace of passing is pretty strange. Very fast.â
âYeahâŚâ
He throws it back into the pile, shutting two of the handful of photo albums. Humming, he flips a couple pages of a third album; your eyes follow as he combs through them. You almost donât notice when he pauses, and when you do, you understand why.
Itâs another old picture, Jungkook tiny, mouth wide open to say something as he points towards the camera slash photographer. And heâs in the arms of somebody whoâs undeniably his father. The man looks more like Junghyun than Jungkook.
But they seem happy here. His big hands are firm on Jungkookâs body, holding him lovingly and smiling at him with even further tenderness.
Jungkook remains on it for only a split second, but you get it.
You replay his motherâs words in your mind, and suddenly, you remember; a revelation clears up like a sunny day after a fog, and God⌠you remember.
And still, you act like you donât. Like you havenât understood that heâs here to reminisce about a life when things were still okay; when he still felt loved. Reliving moments when shit hurt less. Of course heâs here; it makes sense, so directly after a fight.
He seeks comfort in moments he barely remembers to escape the pain he recently suffered.
Youâre out of damn words. This shouldnât be happening to anybody.
You hug him from behind, arms around his chest. Attempting to ease his possibly disturbed soul, you ask, âHey. Do you know that youâre the sweetest being alive? These pictures cause cavities. Good that you kept them from me.â
âOh, yeah?â He turns his head slightly, lips grazing your nose, warm breath falling on it. âComing from my munchkin herself.â
âI mean it! Youâre so cute. And look at these cheeks,â your finger gestures towards a chubby baby, âtheyâre still so soft, by the way.â
You press your face against his, squishing his scarred cheek, and he states under a laugh, âYouâre too much.â
âToo much of a fool for you, yes.â
He clicks his tongue, though playfully. You hear in his voice and see in his beam that heâs delighted, flattered, loving and loved. You ask, âAre you feeling okay now?â
To your relief, he nods. âIâm feeling better, I guess. Looking forward to the wedding. And your dress!â
âOh, I am, too. I was going to show it to your mom just before, but⌠I want you to be the first to see it.â
âAnd then you say Iâm not the luckiest man alive.â
âI just said Ashton Kutcher is. Mila Kunis is pretty cool.â
âShut up.â
You pause, watch him tidy up; after a minute, you tell him, âYou shouldâve joined when we made the jam. Couldâve been fun, too.â
âYeah⌠I mean I thought about it, but. Then I was like, maybe itâd be good for her to get to know you, like, unfiltered. Sheâs always careful not to be weird around me.â
âAh. Thatâs kinda sweet, though.â
âIsnât it?â
You nod against his cheek; then, drum lightly against his chest, a peck to his ear, getting to your feet a second later as you ask, âSo⌠are you coming up? Itâs a little after eleven. We should probably get ready soon.â
âYeah, Iâll be up in some. You should go first, though. Iâll need a bit less time.â
Youâre already taking steps towards the staircase leading up, but you canât refrain from throwing one last tease, âYou sure? Not sure with your skincare routine. Have you even eaten?â
âYes, I did. Donât be a brat.â
You lift your lips to a last provoking, tight-lipped smile before you ascend to his room. The dress is still almost flawless between your clothes. You heavily worried about damage in the few days you travelled, but aside from a few spots that need to be ironed out, itâs as gorgeous as ever.
Flattening out the creases with a borrowed iron, you soon rummage in your suitcase for the curling iron and the rest of your make up. You look at the mess scattered on Jungkookâs table, wondering where to start.
Make up, probably.
Okay. you have one, two chances max to try what you want to achieve. The goal is to remain casual, natural and humble; considering your dress, you cannot overdo it. You donât want to look excessively over the top. Want to keep your essence under the make up.
So you keep it lowkey, pretty much content with the results before you slip into the dress.
And when you look into the mirror, you nearly squeal. You donât struggle with your appearance. But while youâve largely been satisfied with how you look, you did occasionally find things to possibly improve.
Normal. Doesnât everyone deem certain spots flaws, regardless of whether they actually are?
But today⌠today youâre sparkling. Youâre happy; in love with what you accomplished.
If you could, youâd immediately rush down to him again, show you the results. But it seems you donât need to â because half a minute later, you make out his voice outside. Heâs talking to his brother, laughing about something; seems the rest of the family is leaving. The door shuts just before you hear him moving up the stairs with quick steps.
And⌠when he finally opens the ajar door to his own room, his body locks at the spot, as if somebody screwed his feet into the wooden floor.
The reaction is easily imagined; most often seen on TV. You didnât know how real it was, but then again, clichĂŠs always have an origin in real life, donât they?
Youâre surprised, a little shy by how he looks at you. And how he looks in general â black trousers hugging his snatched waist and well-formed hips. The white dress shirt is still in progress, collars up, suit jacket not yet on.
And heâs olding something in his hand that you canât recognise.
He looks breathtaking and mesmerising, despite missing half of the preparation still. Fuck⌠fuck, fuck, fuck.
Does he feel the same about you? Probably.
Because he curses, âWhat the fuck.â
Like a statement, not a question. You touch the silky soft material of your dress, widening your eyes as your quiet voice asks, âWhat?â
âWhat are you even?â
You burst out into a brief, fleeting laugh at the question, repeating, âWhat I am?â
âLike, a fairy or something. Shit, itâs as if Iâm getting married.â
Another near-squeak falls out of you. But you canât blame him this time; you chose this attire carefully.
The sheer chiffon fabric, light and airy, sparkling; it called your name the moment you saw it. Floor length, lavender, spilling to the floor like a waterfall; a spicy slit on the side that Jungkookâs eyes remained on for just a tiny heartbeat longer, you know.
And off-the-shoulder sleeves; most of the back bare.
Sheepishly, you ask, âSo you like it?â
âLike, Iââ he starts, yet stops. He blows a raspberry. âYouâre so pretty. Youâre the prettiest. Oh my God,â he exclaims, dramatically touching his forehead, âI need to keep otherâs eyes off you. Look at you!â
You laugh out loud, a hand on his wrist to keep your balance, no other productive response in your bright pink entangled mind than, âBabeââ
âNo, seriously. Okay, I concur. It was right for me to wait to see you in the dress. Getting a heart attack as we speak.â
Your cheeks still glow brightly when you wiggle a finger at him, disappointed that there is no reality show camera pointing at you to hear you say, âIf your boyfriend doesnât react like this, girl, you donât want him.â
You instinctively move to the buttons of his sleeve, helping out, resisting the urge to give in and fix his collar, too. You want to see the end result so badly, but heâs still missing the tie and the jacket.Â
So you settle on merely touching the buttons over his chest, nodding as if approving before you say, âYou already look so good, too. You know, maybe itâs you who should hide behind me today. What if some middle school girl crushing on you jumps you?â
He chuckles. âThey can try.â
âThey? Well, shit.â
âIâm kidding.â He lowers his chin, bringing your knuckles to his rosy lips, kissing one or two of them. âHide me, then.â
âMhm⌠Do you need help getting ready? With the tie or something?â
âOh, itâs okay. You can lean back for a bit, tell me a story or something? I shouldnât take too long.â
Itâs a ritual of sorts. Sometimes, when you wait for the other on a date or dinner night, the faster one acts as the nightâs entertainer. Sings songs or tells stories or plays DJ or serves the latest, hottest work tea.
You tell him, âOkay. But before I do,â your hand wanders down to his; itâs stubbornly closed around an object, dangling on his side. You uncurl his fingers. âWhatâs that you got there?â
âOh, IâŚâ He comes to life, as if he forgot that he was holding it at all. He lifts it between your faces, straightening his palm, and presents you something incredibly sparkly and nostalgic. âItâs part of the reason I went down at all. With my momâs permission since she wore it at her promâŚâ
Damn it. Both of them deceived you.
âYou were looking for it?â He nods; your heartbeat accelerates as you urge, âAndâŚâ
âAnd I got it for you.â
Words, you notice, are only your specialty when youâre jotting them down and narrating a story from within your mind. When it comes to answering to the grand gestures he always makes you fall in love with, youâre such a zero.
Odd, considering how he, in contrast, has claimed over and over again that heâs not as eloquent as heâd like to be. But youâve long figured out that if he was to preach the truths he holds in his heart to an audience, the stage would drown in a flood of tears within minutes.
You reach for the shiny, pearly, flowery accessory. Itâs rose-gold, a little vintage, clearly older, and so strikingly beautiful. It looks likeâŚ
âA comb⌠for me,â you say. Not the one to untangle your hair. The decorative type; fancy and gorgeous. He nods again, lets you take it between your fingers. âWhy?â
âJust,â a shrug of his shoulder, âI wanted to give you a little something to remind you of this place and the love you got here. Besides, itâd look so pretty on you.â
A reminder that youâre loved. You wonder â who thinks of these things? Does anyone else in this universe heat up their girlâs chest like your boyfriend does?
They can tell you what they want; youâre the luckiest being alive. And in return, you want to love him as much as nobody has ever loved before.
You whisper, âThank you, Kook⌠Your mom is okay with this?â Another enthusiastic nod of confirmation. âThank you so much. Iâ I wish you could see yourself the same way.â You squeeze it in your hand to feel it properly, then open it again. âThis is so pretty.â
âItâll suit you.â
âYes?â Softly, you hand it back to him, turning to the mirror, with him right behind you. âDo you want to put it in?â
âAh⌠I can try.â
âRight there?â You point to the back of your head; to the braid in your loose half updo. âNear the hair pins I used. The comb might hide them well, too.â
And he does his best. Regards your hairdo focused, eyebrows knitting in concentration, so gentle with it. No getting stuck, no intentional tugging.
âWait,â he then says, tapping his trouserâs pocket, and then fishes out his phone for a picture. He shows it to you; the accessory sits there perfectly, not crooked or ruining a single wisp of hair. âHowâs that?â
âYou did it so well. Thank you, Koo.â You face him again, smile bright and endless. âYour turn?â
âYes.â He rubs his hands, looking around. âLetâs get this over with. Give me feedback, okay? And tell me a story?â
You take a seat at the edge of his bed prettily, coming up with a short tale about personified instruments and what theyâd symbolise. The guitar for the heart and the love in it, the drums for thunder and the excited pulse of the soul.
âThe flute for the breeze and dreams?â Jungkook adds.
And you urge in a thrilled tone, âAnd the violin for the rain and longing. Theyâd learn from each other, right?â You sigh. âIâll think about the piano, too. Canât figure it out yet⌠it could be a lot.â
Jungkook nods, distracted and interrupting the story when he asks for brief comments on his progress. Barely any feedback, though; praises largely.
You watch as he slips into the rest of his clothing and gels his hair back â itâs grown quite a bit since the press conference in September. You get to your feet, amped up when he finally claps and rubs his hands in anticipation a bit later, announcing that heâs ready to leave.
And youâre still euphoric when you jump into your car, letting him drive through the streets he knows much better. His fingers wander to the passenger seat every now and then; minutes after the last scolding, you keep reminding him to keep his hands on the wheel.
I want to kiss you so bad, but your damn make up wonât let me today, huh?
A tease here, a flirt there.
You feel like you could do anything. The sky's the limit. And it soon proves that the statement has never rang truer, even if in a vastly different context now.
Because once you reach the wedding â your metaphorical sky â, Ria is already standing at the parking lot, waving the moment she spots the two of you stepping out of the car. From afar, you already see the weddingâs venue; a lake in the back, a huge tent and a field at the front.
The parking lot right next to it, but still a couple minutes of a trek away.
Riaâs parents indulge Jungkook in a conversation about something you barely register right away, and she gestures towards herself, hugging and greeting you with an odd half-smile.
âYou look so pretty,â she says, and you beam benignly, returning the compliment.
Sheâs rocking a dark blue dress, sleeveless, her hair in a loose bun. Wavy strands frame her face. But somehow, she looks demotivated. Worried to the slightest, though still mostly cheerful. So you ask, âAre you okay?â
âYeah! I just wanted to tell you something. But donât freak out, okay?â
Well, shit. Doesnât start as you imagined, does it? You glimpse over to Jungkook. Heâs laughing from the heart, button nose crunched; why is she not telling him, too?
Your chest feels tighter; the usual human response to a menacing statement such as hers. You upright yourself, take a deep breath, ground yourself as you encourage, âYes? I wonât. Whatâs up?â
âWell⌠weâre in this town and like, people know each other. And since weâre all in a very close circle here, I just wanted to say that,â her face changes; she kind of grimaces, as if apologetic for something, âNara came, too.â
Ah.
AhâŚ
The sky's the limit, and you reached it, and now youâre kind of crashing.
Well. You never thought about this; but it makes perfect sense, doesnât it? Of course sheâd be here. She was part of this town and Jungkookâs life for so many years, so naturally, sheâd be familiar with his relatives, too.
Besides, even if she hadnât been with him⌠Didnât Jungkook and Ria already establish with you just yesterday, when you were inhaling your ice cream, that this small town strives on familiarity?
Meetings at the town hall, the shop ownersâ affection for most of their year-long customers. The Stars Hollow vibe you already recognised.
AhhhâŚ
So thatâs what Junghyun might have been trying to tell you on the first day, too. You remember his mother interrupting.
How annoying. You did not want to feel annoyed. Maybe it wouldâve been better if Ria hadnât told you; if youâd bumped into Nara randomly and suffered the temporary heart attack. Or perhaps, you wouldnât have seen her at allâŚ
Come on. Unrealistic.
Fuck, you feel childish. There shouldnât be any burning in your chest or an uncomfortable warmth in your cheek. You shouldnât be feeling the urge to run over to Jungkook, to actually hide him behind you.
To rush to his ear, whisper your worries, make him promise that he only loves you and wonât ride into the sunset with her.
Delusional, paranoid concerns that you wouldnât entertain on any normal, sane day; then again, the news Ria delivered wasnât going to leave you unbothered anyway. This whole thing around exes really sucks.
âI⌠I shouldnât spiral, though, right?â you answer, your voice a little weaker. Ria immediately nods, though still not relaxing the wrinkle between her eyebrows. âI mean, of course sheâd be here. This is her place, she was born here andâŚâ
Ria takes your hands in hers, assures, âI promise you itâs nothing too bad, okay? Nara and Jungkook have been here at the same time before and literally nothing happened.â
What? When?
âWhen?â you echo.
âUh, like last summer? He only came down for a couple days, though. College exams and stuff.â
Ah⌠you wouldnât even know. Back then, youâd only encountered him once, at the blurry frat party that you spent in locked rooms and on tiled roofs. When you sang together and spilled your hearts to each other.
For the very first time.
Whatever he did before or after that⌠how would you know?
Only, you feel even sicker at the thought that after that party, and after he allegedly met Nara here again without anything literally happening, he still linked with her back in the city. Still shared his nights and sheets with her.
Does this count as nothing happening? What if the time here evoked something? What if it happens again?
Fuck, what if it happens again?
âIâm going to panic,â you tell Ria.
âWhat? No,â she exclaims, though instantly lowering her voice, rubbing your arm soothingly, âitâs okay, I promise. He didnât even think of it. Either that or he doesnât care âcause he didnât mention her once.â
âBut now I might keep thinking about it.â
âSeriously. Fuck, I feel bad for saying itââ
âNo⌠no, itâs okay. You shouldâve.â
âOkay, look. Itâs honestly fine. Sheâs nice, she wonât do anything shady; not if she knows about yâall.â Another caressing touch to your shoulder. âI just wanted to warn you. Please donât feel startled. Iâm here, okay? Iâll smash his nose if anything happens.â
She looks to the side. The other conversation has seemingly ended, too, and you swallow as Riaâs parents wave her over. She says, âOkay. Gotta go, but Iâll meet you guys inside and reserve seats, okay? Thereâs just limited assigned seating.â
She pats your coat-clad arm, and then walks away.Â
Well. Okay.
You guess youâll have to get over this one way or another. You focus on your clothing. Focus on how you look, how Jungkook looks. The weather, the tent many many feet away. Your boyfriendâs gaze on you as he walks back to you, offering his hand.
He pauses when he sees you, asking, âIs everything okay?â
âHm?â you hum. âYes. Just nervous, I think.â
âMe too.â He flashes the sweetest grin known to mankind, genuinely excited, childlike joy. Tilts his head at you. âYou seriously look so fucking pretty. Like really, really.â
You smile.
OkayâŚ
It should be alright. Jeon Jungkook is so in love with you; damn it, he even peels your oranges for you when you donât feel like doing it. You need to trust the process; need to hold onto your excitement.
Okay.
You glance at the event warming up in the far. Halfway through, people have gathered, standing on the grass or the man-made path. Thereâs still a bit of time; so naturally, theyâre still busying themselves with conversations.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Youâve met her before. This isnât different.
You look down to where his and your fingers intertwine; put particular attention to the way he holds you. Firmly, as if protecting and loving and keeping you close at the same time.
His smile lifts your spirits a little, the wind enclosing your mind and easing it. You nod only slightly, telling yourself itâll all be good â and then, let him tug you towards the wedding.
The wedding is as bustling as you expected. Itâs bright, colourful, flowers draped over the place in abundance. Even before you enter it, the huge tent leaves you breathless, gasping.
They put so much effort into this; itâs clear as day. Jungkookâs mother isnât around, but the moment you lay your eyes on her again, youâll praise her for what she helped mount. Somehow, the beauty nearly makes you forget that youâre among pure strangers.
But that at least one familiar face is roaming here somewhere.
You take a deep breath.
All these people know each other. They probably grew up together, know the ins and outs of the town, have gathered at weddings and funerals and school events. You donât know how well youâll be able to integrate, but you do hope for their support.
Itâs not too much to ask, you reckon.
At least not when Jungkook pulls at your hand and the two of you into certain directions, coming to a stand multiple times when he sees a person or two calling him to them. Some are old school friends; some adults he knew when he was a child.
Candy store owners. Somebody who sold him his first scooter. Or a pal he used to share his banana milk with.
The sentiments are clearly there and they bask in them, but none of them ever forgets about you. Jungkook introduces you, tugs you into his side, enskies you with praise. And they respond with kindness and interest; tell you heâs mentioned you before.
You remember. Jungkook told you how his friends spoke about you or saw you on TV, eager to meet you â they react according to the excitement he foretold, and you reciprocate it with ease. Very sweet.
Yet, it seems that even in a small town, or especially in a small town, enmity runs just as deep as affection. Some people remember friendships, others still resent rotten memories.
You soon meet the first one of the latter kind.
Heâs standing near the entrance of the spacious tent; you glance inside, unsuspecting, not a single familiar face in sight. You donât notice him until Jungkook does, coming to a stand, walk interrupted as the guy exclaims, âJeon Jungkook! My goodness, Jungkookââ
You meet thick eyebrows, long-ish dark hair, full lips. Heâs handsome, his smile bright.Â
And his voice is mellow and sweet, and at certain tones, it reminds you of Jiminâs; then again, some syllables come out much deeper. You donât know who he is; of the pictures Jungkook has shown you, he wasnât in any of them.
âHey,â Jungkook greets, somewhat distant. You donât think standing here is his first choice, but your boyfriend is as polite as can be. Even waves towards the guy, and tells you, âThis is Christian. Barom, but he lives in Australia now, so.â
âHi,â you reach out a hand, ânice to meet you.â
The accent is heavy and somehow cursive when he responds, âLikewise.â
Jungkook is definitely not delighted about him. Follows the touch of your hands, then your gaze up to Christianâs face. You notice it before Jungkook can probably even think of it: the odd look the stranger throws at you.
Up and down. Smile telling. Uncomfortable.
And when Jungkook suddenly does catch it, he intervenes, âYou came all the way from Sydney?â
âYep. And you came over from the city?â
âYeah,â Jungkook answers. You barely register it, but youâre certain heâs been pushing you behind him inch by inch; but you remain at your spot. You can deal with this. âWe were on vacation before, but I was gonna come anyway.â
âNice. And wait, sorry, you wereâŚ?â
You recall never introducing yourself; but youâre positive heâs figured out your relationship to Jungkook just by the steadfast grip around your palm. But Jungkook still officially voices your name and informs him, âMy girlfriend.â
Christian must be seeing or hearing something you arenât â strange since it was him who asked â but he laughs, teasing, âYouâre being defensive.â
âIâm not. I literally just told you sheâs my girlfriend.â
âLucky. You look pretty together.â
âYeah. Thanks.â
You have not a single clue whatâs going on. Jungkook is never really rude, so there must be something about this Barom or Christian â heâs never mentioned him before.
Then again, you guess growing up in a tight space comes with all sorts of relationships. Christian is probably the sort that never earns a mention until actually met with the person themselves.
Itâs funny though â in some way, the rejection seems one-sided. As if Jungkook is still holding something against him and Christian remains uncaring; while it might not be a universal truth, youâve experienced that those utterly calm are often the ones at fault.
And Jungkook isnât an angry human being. Heâs kind. Patient. Needs a reason to be mad.
Christian doesnât take the hint when he smiles, a heavily tattooed hand patting Jungkook on his shoulder as he suggests, âSee you later then? Letâs take a picture or get a drink afterwards.â
Jungkook only stalls for the tiniest seconds, but you know him â heâs probably already made up his mind. You look between the men, baffled by the nearly visible bolts shooting from one pair of eyes to the other.
âSure,â Jungkook eventually says, your hand still in his, and works on moving to the coat check and then to the chairs without adding anything else.
You donât inquire yet what this was about as you walk, catching glimpses of the priest, of the stranger guests and of the people lingering at the front of the tent. Youâre busy gauging Jungkookâs eyebrows, observing as they relax more the further he gets away from the guy.
And neither do you need to pop the question when youâve settled somewhere in the middle-ish, you on his right side, Ria on the other. Next to her, her parents that you briefly met when you brought her home yesterday.
Previously turned on her seat, she now uprights her body, hooking her arm with Jungkookâs as she whispers to him, yet clearly enough for you to hear, âWas that Yu Barom?â
Jungkook nods. âChristian Yu now. Yup.â
âRight.â
They nod, understanding each other wordlessly, but youâre still floating in between a couple theories and the actual sentiments. So you lean in; youâve become one of the gossipers at a wedding, you guess.
âOkay,â you start; the two of them stare at you with the same big puppy eyes. âYou donât seem to like him.â
âOh, we donât,â Jungkook bluntly admits.
âWhy?â
Jungkook smacks his lips. Eyes drift to the roof of the tent, the polyester fabric swaying in the gust. Then, they shift to his cousin, presumably seeking approval, because she shrugs her shoulders, gesturing with her hand and says, âOh, go ahead.â
So he explains, âHis little cousin was a constant problem for Ria. Same age⌠harassed her and all. Constant flirting and phone calls and didnât take the hint, just an uncomfortable dude in general.â He pauses, shaking his head. âI had to threaten him for him to get lost. And Christian didnât like that.â
Okay, now you definitely feel like somebody indulging in tittle-tattle. Some more and youâll be one of the aunties. Your mouth gradually opens as he speaks, and you emphasise, âNo way.â
âItâs trueâ the guy was on a break from college for just a month and decided to argue with a fifteen-year-old.â
âWhat? Did you get into a fight with him?â
âNah.â He pauses when a group of random three girls in green dresses walks along the aisle, even though theyâre barely facing you, sending a perfumed breeze towards you. Then, âNot a physical one. But it was a bit messy. Didnât like that night.â
âMe neither,â Ria confirms.
Of course he didnât like it.
Heâs largely non-confrontational. Youâve learned this much in the time youâve known him, and have given the fact utmost sense ever since he revealed his innermost fears. Jungkook keeps quiet; he dreads repetitions of a direful past.
Yet, initiating and risking a conflict for his baby cousin increases the respect you harbour for him.
People are cruel; but Jeon Jungkook is good-hearted to his core, no matter how flawed.
You touch the back of his hand, caressing it when he says, âStay with me tonight, okay? And if you canât, then do come to me when he nears you.â
âOkay.â
His eyes meet yours, concerned but also suspiciously fiery when he states, âBecause like, I really didnât like how he was looking at you.â
AhâŚ
âHm?â
âYou didnât notice?â he asks, his voice higher, thick eyebrows closing into each other again. You lift a thumb, clearing the crease and his stress. âI almost plucked his eyes out.â
Of course you noticed. You just didnât think it irritated Jungkook to this point.
âOhâ Kookââ
âNo seriously,â he stresses, turning his hand to get ahold of two of your fingers, âguy was sweet half his life and then tried stuff with so many girls. I wouldnât be surprised if he approached you again, so please stay away from him, okay?â
âYes, baby. But I wouldnât let him do shit anyway. Donât worry.â You nudge his shoulder. âAnd donât be jealous. Have you seen yourself?â
He rolls his eyes at the accusation, but thereâs a sliver of a smile on his face and relief in his gaze. You guess hearing you say it does wonders to him; sometimes, you truly praise the connection between you, based on a clear foundation of trust and communication.
Well⌠at least now.
âIâm not jealous,â he insists, âit was just gross how he looked at you. Fuck this. Not with my girl.â
You canât help but break into a chuckle, way too loud for your row. You slap a hand over your mouth, careful not to ruin the lipstick, and nearly give into the urge to release his pout. But itâs too sweet â it can linger for a second.
Removing your hand, you near him until your mouth grazes his, assuring, âI love you,â before you peck his lips curtly. He still looks a little grumpy, though. Your man. âItâs okay, baby.â
The grip around your hand intensifies. It doesnât seem it will vanish for the rest of the night. You sure hope it doesnât.
And youâre immensely grateful for the luck youâre enjoying. Not only because of this placeâs beauty and the palm holding onto yours â but you havenât seen Nara either. In fact, you become hyper aware of how much youâve been thinking of her.
Like; what is she wearing? How is she doing? Is she thinking about Jungkook; expecting him here; feeling a sort of way? Is she imagining his smile and how she saw it in this very town so many times, dedicated to her?
And did Christian ever flirt with her, too? Did it irritate Jungkook?
Youâve been thinking it all dead.
Unnecessarily so if Jungkook hasnât even mentioned her, never sought her out. Instead, heâs busy protecting his girl from past bullies.
In all honesty, youâll probably cross ways with her still. The guest list isnât endless; the place vast but not infinite.
But for now, you forget about her, trashing all thoughts and possibilities. Shake your head. Breathe it out. Relieve your chest.
You diverge into conversations about anything and everything, reminiscing about yesterday and the places you saw. Listen into stories Ria and Jungkook tell: about injuries, about pleasant nights and about the fights they had.
Ria was like the sister Jungkook never had; Junghyun was a good older brother, but when seeking another opinion, she was on speed dial. Sometimes, growing up in a certain environment makes all the difference â hearing a girlâs thoughts at all times might have made Jungkook the way he is.
Thoughtful, respectful. You have encountered sexism a million times â not to mention just minutes ago, checked out so shamelessly â but you donât think Jungkook has such a notion even in any crevice of his heart.
Youâre fond and happy when they laugh together; her crinkles match his. Their laugh contagious.
It still echoes and fades, slowly and lovingly when the tent quietens. All heads turn, but you donât see much from here. Maybe a couple moving bodies at the entrance. Someone coughs, interrupting the silence and lowering their head, and the moment allows you a peek at the sensation.
The bride is waiting, holding a bouquet. Her father is touching her veil to fix it despite having nothing to fix; but she doesnât notice.
Gayoung is glancing ahead, breathing in. Everyoneâs eyes remain on her, but your head turns to follow her eyes. The groom is already standing there in a standard groomesque position, hands folded, upright like a post.
He looks insanely nervous. His shiny boot taps the ground, lips parting and unparting. And heâs blinking; then forming a circle with his mouth, releasing the pent-up tension.
She hasnât moved yet. The ceremony is yet to begin.
But even before all that, as people indulge in the sight and wait for their eternity to start, Jungkook has already mimicked your turn, fingers still intertwined. When he speaks, you flinch; you didnât notice his voice this close.
Heâs looking at the groom, too, before he settles his gaze on you. Stares with affection in his gems that bursts your heart, splinters your ribs and implodes your chest. You know heâll say something to fade out the entire crowd before he actually says it.
âCan I tell you something mainstream?â
You hum, âHm?â
He regards your digits, plays with them. âIf you ever choose to marry meâŚâ Your heart stops. âIâll look just as tense as him.â
âWould you⌠want to marry me one day?â
âItâs just a thing people do, right?â he questions. âWhether itâs like this or in any other wayâ Iâll spend my life with you anyhow.â
Iâll spend my life with you.
Not a question. Not a need.
But a confession. A goal. A plan.Â
You donât get to answer when the first tunes of a guitar play. Itâs a song you recognise; paints a smile onto your face. The melody is soft, slow, so gentle. They didnât choose an orchestral track or the usual Wedding March after all.
Itâs a song.
Jungkookâs eyes blow wide, and he immediately seeks yours. Mutters into your ear, âDo I know this?â
âYou probably do.â
âWaitââ He listens in. Pupils roll up as he ponders. Then, âDidnât someone sing this in the lobby this week?â
Almost. Itâs why it delights you so. You already had half an idea back then, and you managed to somehow incorporate it into this wedding without really being part of these people.
âYoongi played it on the guitar,â you clarify, âI suggested it to your mom this morning. I guess she liked it enough to forward the request so spontaneously.â
âYou did? Then she mustâveâŚâ
You canât decipher what heâs thinking. His stare is fixated on the passing bride, her slow steps, the beam she wears as she nears whom sheâs decided to be the rest of her life.
You canât peep into his brain, but you notice when he tilts his head. See the tiny gap between his lips and the way he catches the groom blink away tears the moment you do, because Jungkook smiles at just the same moment as you do.
Gayoung lowers her head when she comes to a stand in front of his still-fiancĂŠ, and then delivers the most magnificent, most mesmerising grin. Sheâs happy, you know. You donât think youâve seen this intensity of joy a lot of times in your life.
You recognised it when Jungkook woke up still in your bed after the blue night. When he opened up to you, vowed to stay, brought you to his home. When you announced to the world that youâd be his to remain, that youâd do what you enjoy.
When you got home that evening, and he kissed you right against the door, deemed you crazy, deemed you his.
You havenât seen this very happiness much in your life, but youâve seen it in him. And youâve felt it in your chest. Growing, blossoming, never wilting.
The couple at the front speaks its vows like a song. The words are melodic, poetic, and youâre almost entirely sure that theyâre not rehearsed. Itâs all real. The love in them and the memories in them, accompanied by the liquid bliss swimming in his and her waterline.
No, you havenât experienced this too many times before. Youâve felt it. Heâs felt it.
And you donât need to know much more than this; donât need to know what heâs thinking to understand what he means when he saysâ
âThis⌠this is it.â
THE CHAPTER ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ đđź
1k block limit as always!! you can read the second half of the chapter in this reblog!! the reblog begins with a new scene <3
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts smut#bts fluff#jeongguk smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts x you#bts imagines#jungkook fic#bts angst#jungkook angst#jungkook
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Fatherâs Day
pairing: max verstappen x reader
summary: max is dating an international star
a/n: i literally had this idea last night and had to write a short blurb, i promise i am writing other stuff tho đŤś
masterlist
ââââââââ
y/username happy fatherâs day, daddy. i love you and your bigâŚ
maxverstappen1 anything to share with me?
y/username not pregnant, just letting everyone know how turned on you get me
maxverstappen1 love you too, schat
user12 anyone else not getting it, like she is so hot and he is đŹ
y/username you know that one barbie scene with the rock? thatâs my maxie. also if you think heâs ugly, thatâs fine, more of him for me đ
user98 Y/N BARBIE FAN CONFIRMED
y/username priority 1: old barbie movies priority 2: max
user3 ON THE MAIN?
user33 PR monster got her, I really wanna know what she was about to say
recordlabel we donât⌠we actually want bleach for our eyes
redbullracing we will share our bleach if you send us demos of her next album đ
charlesleclerc Go on, finish the sentence, I dare you.
y/username his big heart, ego, ass, trophy case, therapy bill from childhood trauma, i could keep going on but i donât want to make you feel emasculated
user62 okay, but like how did he bag her?
y/username he has incredible rizz, and look at himđ¤¤
âHappy Fatherâs Day, Maxie,â you grin as Max lays on you lap, looking up at you with his beautiful blue eyes.
âYou arenât pregnant, Schat,â he laughs, your fingertips gently scratching his scalp.
âWe could change that, get some practice in for after the wedding?â you watch his eyes widen as he quickly sits up.
âPractice makes perfect, why donât we practice now?â Max suggests, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.
Your wedding is small, only some close friends and family in attendance. The ceremony takes place in your backyard, no reception beyond a dinner afterwards.
Despite both your respective fame levels, you didnât want anyone knowing of the marriage. Fans still thought you were dating, so when you got a positive pregnancy test, you were extra careful.
Max was grateful that you had a private recording studio in the house, for when you needed to drop the album. You didnât mean to choose the surprise drop date to be at the end of your pregnancy, nor Fatherâs Day, but life worked in funny ways.
âHappy Fatherâs Day, Maxie,â you softly say, handing the little bundle off to Max.
âThis is the best present, heâs beautiful,â Max hold back tears as he holds his son close to his chest.
âIâm not sure if I will be able to top this next year,â you laugh a little, your tiredness making an apparent after a long labor.
âYou should take a nap, Iâll be okay with him,â Max runs a hand though your sweaty hair. To him, youâve never looked more perfect.
âI have one thing to do first,â you yawn, pulling out your phone. Max slides into the hospital bed beside you, you immediately nestle into him, his warmth enveloping you.
instagram
y/username SURPRISE! midnight rain is out now! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it for the past four years. There is so much in my life that happened, so enjoy my journey through heartbreak, love, and growth. I want to quickly thank Max and my team for making this possible đ
user1 AHHH this is so good, but didnât she and Max break up? Why is she thanking him?
user3 dude, i think they are married, did you listen to everything else
user4 yeah, she had some songs about marriage, but she hasnât been at any races since last year
user10 did yâall see the statement saying there wonât be a tour for the album?? crying in the club
user11 Okay, but Robin?? secret child??
maxverstappen1 endlessly proud of you, schatje
user5 we get it bro, she wrote Dress and The Alchemy about you
maxverstappen1 our little robin decided to hatch đ
danielricciardo So happy for you and Y/n, mate. Big day for the Verstappen family, canât wait to hold the little guy!
y/username he will love his Uncle Danny
y/username heâs perfect, just like his daddy
redbullracing what a gift for fatherâs day! sending our gift to you đ
user42 guys, y/nâs song credits changedâŚ
user21 OMG MAX AND Y/N ARE MARRIED AND THEY HAVE A KID???
#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen
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we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).
there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.
we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.
then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.
now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.
i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.
that's exactly what he does.
he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".
glasses? on
emotions? off
hotel? trivago
i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.
by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:
aziraphale notices.
they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.
look.
he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.
aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).
the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.
can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?
because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.
anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3
oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.
and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?
easy answer: no.
alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.
#alex talks good omens#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#good omens season 2#go2#aziracrow#crowley x aziraphale#ineffable divorce#the final fifteen#good omens meta
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i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!
Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!
Word Count- 2k+
Summary- See request above.
Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)
You pressed a kiss to Bennyâs cheek, whispering to him that youâd be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Bennyâs jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts â especially the women of this club.Â
Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door.Â
ââShe does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,â a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldnât be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking.Â
âJesus Christ, you canât get her to shut up anymore.â another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. âI miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.â
âWould it even be worth it to hit that? Câmon man, sheâd gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.â
Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldnât force your legs to move.
âIâd put that mouth of hers to work on something else,â the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation.Â
âDonât know how Bennyâboy puts up with it. Iâd have to gag her just to hear myself thinkââ
You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you?Â
But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Bennyâ that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didnât like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didnât like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.
******
Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didnât sit on his lap anymore.Â
You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and thatâs how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didnât tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent.Â
Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you.Â
You changed into your nightgown and Bennyâs heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror.Â
âDid you have a good time tonight?â he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence.Â
âMh-hm.â Came your short reply.
Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. âYou seem . . . quiet.â
That was definitely the wrong thing to say because youâre shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, âJust tired.â
He frowned. Heâd seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. âTell me about your day, Bunny.âÂ
You shrugged. âNot much happened.â
âWell, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.â He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.
âWell, maybe I donât wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.â you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.
âAre you okay?â he asked softly, looking up at you.Â
You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.
âWhatâs wrong?â he questioned. âDid someone do something to you tonight?â
You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. âNo, no. Nothing like that.â
His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. âTalk to me, Bunny. Please. I donât understand whatâs wrong.â
You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. âNothing happened . . . I justâI overheard some guys talkinâ is all.â
He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. âWhen I went to get a drink . . . they didnât know I was there. Andâand I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .â
âWhat were they saying?â
You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look.Â
He squeezed your hips encouragingly. âWhat were they saying?â
âIt doesnât matterââ
âIt does to me,â he was quick to say.Â
âThey . . . they were talkinâ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.â you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.
Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girlâhis sweet shy girlâtalking? âWho was it?â
âOh, Bennyââ You pulled back from him. âDonât go saying anything to them!â
âWhy not?â He planned to do much more than talk to them.
âBecause!â you cried, your voice going an octave higher. âThat would make it worse! Besides, theyâreâtheyâre right anyway.â
âRight about what?â he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.
âWell, I do talk a lot. Aâand I know it can be annoying for someone whoâs a lot more quiet.âÂ
âAnnoying?â He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.
âI just donât want to embarrass you,â you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you.Â
Bennyâs stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times.Â
He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. âI like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when weâre riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. Youâre so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and thatâs one of my favorite things about you. You talkinâ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because itâs one of the reasons I love you.â
Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. âWhy are you crying?â
Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.
âOh, Benny,â you choked up. âYouâre so sweet!âÂ
He wasnât so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasnât going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. Heâd take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. Heâd discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldnât always. Thatâs what love was, putting othersâ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.
His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. âWill you come lay with me and tell me about your day?â
You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile heâd come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. Heâd ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.
-Tag List-
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#Benny loves a yapper#opposites attract#the bikeriders#benny cross#benny cross x reader#austin butler#benny x bunny#austin butler x reader#benny x reader#fluff#imagine#austin butler fandom#little bunny#requests
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Hi love, hope you're doing good. I was thinking if you could write a headcannon or reactions kinda thing, skz reaction to their s/o crying during-after sex because they feel overwhelmed, loved and safe. Not because of pleasure but purely because of love, because of how much they love them. Maybe Chan and Jisung would themselves burst into tears knowing that their s/o loves them just so much. Please? Btw I'm â¨Anon if that's okay?
Stray Kids react to you crying (out of love) during sex
smut, fluff
warnings: fem!reader, crying, panicked members, mentions of safeword (Minho), cum mentioned, jisung's is funny, mentions of dying (not literal)
Chan
Channie panics the first time you cry during sex and it's not been caused by him eating you out until you cum three times.
When he's sees you have tears pooling in your eyes and spilling over, when all he's done is kiss you tenderly and make love to you softly, he's panicked.
"Baby, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He's pulled out of you, is kneeling over your body, his eyes scouring every inch of you looking for a physical sign of pain. You just cry harder.
"Channie Channie, come back. Need you, Channie, please Channie-" he's confused but lowers himself to you and you wrap your legs around him, bucking your hips blindly to try ans catch his cock. He holds you still by the hip.
"Baby, why are you crying?"
"Jus' love you Channie feel so loved so good need more love you channie-"
His face flushes red, and his own eyes tear up when he realises that you're crying out of the.. love you feel?
"You're crying because you feel loved?" His voice is choked by his own emotion, and you nod your head, some more tears falling.
"Makingnme feel so loved Channie."
Chan kisses you again, and slides his cock back inside you, groaning at the way you hum happily against his mouth.
Minho
Minho is rough with you in bed. That's why he had you choose a safeword and makes sure you know that you must use it if you're uncomfortable with anything.
That's why he's so alarmed when he sees you crying when he comes back from the bathroom after a session (he tied you up and worshiped every inch of your skin, making you cum multiple times and filling you with two loads of his cum).
"Baby!" His voice is shrill and he drops everything in favour of rushing over to you, panic on his face. "What happened? Baby what do you need?"
"Hold me!" You appear distraught and he yanks you into his arms.
"Baby, talk to me," he's being gentle, but he really needs an answer.
"I love you!" You cried out and he froze in confusion, his eyebrow raising as he forced you to look him in the eye.
"You're crying.. because you love me?"
"And you love me!" You're making no sense to him. "You make me feel so loved."
He keeps his wide eyes on you as you stand and more towards the bathroom, the marks he's left on you barely visible in the low light, and his cum dripping down your thighs.
"You coming?"
Changbin
Binnie, oh Binnie. He damn near loses his mind when he sees you crying before he even really gets started with you.
He's got you on your back, legs spread and your eyes blindfolded when your chest heaves with a sob.
Oh, he's got the bilndfold off and you sitting in his lap before you can blink.
"Bunny, you ok?" He's pushing your hair back, wiping your tears away and caressing you back softly, looking at you with wide eyes, and a concerned expression on his face.
"I'm amazing Binnie." He's so confused.
"What?"
"I just-" You take in a deep breath and then it all comes rushing out. "I just trust you so much and you always make me feels so good and not even only in the bedroom, although you are a fucking god at fucking me and I just love you so much that I got overwhelmed by the love for you in my chest."
He blinks at you. Then his face crumbles and suddenly he's sobbing.
"Binnie!" Now you're concerned.
"You cried because of how much you love me and now I'm crying because of how much I love you and fuck we're a mess." He tries to laugh, but it comes out choked.
You stay like that for a while, you in his lap, holding each other closely until all the tears are dry.
"So.. I fuck you like a god, huh?"
Hyunjin
Hyunjin doesn't realise you're crying out of anything other than pleasure until he's filled you up with his cum and you just won't stop crying.
"Muse, I'm so sorry." His heart is in his ass.
"I love you so much Jinnie. Feel so good. Fuck Jinnie, I can feel your cum dripping out of me, don't let it Jinnie, please-" You're babbling away and Hyunjin can't focus on anything, not even the cum dripping from your pussy - which normally you have to forbid him from touching again.
"Muse-"
"Jinnie please, please, more, need more, give me more." You're begging, but he's not sure what you want.
"What do you need baby?"
"Cum-" His brain must be making things up.
"You want to cum again?" He refuses to move until you say so.
"No, Jinnie, want your cum, love you so much, want your cum-"
And really, how can he refuse when you ask him so nicely?
Jisung
Jisung does NOT know what to do.
You're crying, covered in his cum, sitting in the bath and he's at a loss.
The sound of his phone calling out to someone catches your attention and then he speaks.
"Chan hyung! She's crying-"
"HAN JISUNG!" Chan can hear your screech on the other end of the phone. "HANG UP!"
"BUT YOU'RE CRYING!"
"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND YOU JUST FUCKED ME SO GOOD I CAN'T WALK!"
Chan hangs up.
"WHAT?!"
"You fucked me so good, and for some god-forsaken reason, I love you, pabo!" That really doesn't clear anything up for him, but he clambers into the bath with you and holds you close.
"You're ok?" He sounds scared.
"I'm ok." You confirm. "Just.. really love you. And was overwhelmed by it for a moment."
"I love you."
Felix
Firm believer that Felix cries when he's overwhelmed with the pleasure.
Felix has you on top of him, your tits bouncing as you ride his cock, and he just can't help himself.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful. I love you so much." He doesn't expect you to cry, but he knows from the way you lean down to clutch him to your chest and the way your pussy squeezes around him tighter, that you're about to cum.
"Love you Lixie, love you love you-"
"Love you baby, love you-"
You cum together, tears on your faces from the pleasure and the overwhelming love you feel, and he doesn't remove his cock from you after you've both cum, just lets it plug up your hole as he holds you close.
"I'm meant to be the one crying, baby." He whispers and you move to kiss him, his still hard cock shifting in your pussy and cum dripping down his cock and pooling on his balls.
You rock your hips as you kiss him, moaning when his tip hits that spot deep in your pussy.
"We can both cry, Lixie."
Seungmin
Seungmin freezes the second he sees tears on your face, despite being so so close to filling you with his cum.
"Pup?"
"Don't stop, please-" you beg him, but he stays still, dragging a whine from your lips. "Minnie-"
"Why are you crying?"
"I'm not-" You stop when you feel the wetness on your cheeks and flush red. "I-"
You buck your hips into his, searching for pleasure and managing to keep his orgasm approaching.
"Pup, why are you crying?"
"I just feel so safe in your arms and-"
Seungmin doesn't let you finish your sentence, just pushes his cock into your pussy as far as he can, his cum flowing out of his tip and filling you up, leaking out around the base of his cock. He groans and shudders, his face falling to your neck.
"I'm sorry-" He's cut off by you clenching around his cock, head falling back as you cum on his cock.
"Fuck pup-" he grunts at the feeling of your pussy fluttering around him and moves his hips to help you ride out your high.
He lets his weight rest on you for a moment before he pulls back to look at you.
"I love you pup." He kisses you gently. "I'm glad you feel safe with me."
Jeongin
You've never cried during sex before.
He's fingering you, his tongue circling your clit and puffy lips sucking when you let out a cry that's just not a sound he's used to from you.
He looks up and finds you with tears on your face.
Instant soft dick.
"Y/N, what's wrong?" He's next to you before he can get his question out.
"Innie, if you don't fuck me like you love me right now, I'll die."
"Uh- What?"
"Make love to me, Jeongin." That he can do.
"But, you're crying!"
"It's just- fuck I love you."
Jeongin is so confused, but you've got your hand on his hardening again dick, and he's finding it hard to concentrate.
"You're crying because you love me, and you want me to fuck you like I love you?"
"Yes."
"But I do love you!"
"I know!"
"Do I not tell you enough?!" He's spiralling, thinking of all the times he's thought about telling you those words, and chickened out or missed his opportunity, or forgotten because he's busy.
"Jeongin, I know you love me. I want you to make love to me."
He moves to hover over you and kisses you slowly, his hands running over your sides, thigh pressing into your still dripping pussy.
"I love you, I love you, I love you-" It's all he can say, all he can think, as he thrusts his cock in your pussy and fills you with him cum.
#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#lee know smut#lee minho smut#seo changbin x reader#seo changbin smut#hwang hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin smut#han jisung x reader#han jisung smut#lee felix x reader#lee yongbok x reader#lee felix smut#lee yongbok smut#kim seungmin x reader#kim seungmin smut#yang jeongin x reader#yang jeongin smut#skz x reader#skx smut
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I saw your earlier post on Platonic fics and Im a sucker for them so here u go : father figure stanford headcannons maybe takes place after he comes back from the portal, reader is an adventurous spirit that works at the shack and maybe secretly helped stan get his brother back? Idk im just throwing things here lol
You Know I Love You Still
Stanford x daughter!reader
đ stanford dad hc!!
đ i literally saw the request it and started writing and got a lil carried away đ its like half story half hc? if that makes sense
đ requests r so open rn! i def dont have any fav requests⌠(anything platonic or familial will be the first ones i write i LOVE those types of requests)
đ the age of the reader is young like 16/17? ik that lowkey contradicts with the time line but wtv STANFORD DAD HC!!
đ itâs a little bit of everything? like itâs not only just reader and stanford, the twins r also included in some scenarios and also stan
đ a big happy family đ
đ fem reader gulp i completely didnt realize until i was done that i used she/her when referring to the reader
đ next fic will use gender neutral pronouns I SWUEAR!!
đ2k words
đ i apologize for rhe misspell and mistakes i didnt catch in advance
Working together with your Uncle Stan to build the portal to bring your dad back to the right dimension was tiresome. Nights were sleepless and many of them were spent in the underground lab, where you and Stan did everything possible to assemble the portal. Trying to keep such a secret away from the twins and Soos was unexpectedly hard. The knowledge of hiding someone so vital to you and to your Uncle Stan was weighing down on you and him. Then came the day where his awaited arrival was promised. You could barely sleep that night. You thought of so many different possibilities and scenarios of how you would greet him. Would he remember you? Did he ever miss you? Does he even love you?!
The next day came in like a tornado and before you knew it, you were protectively standing in front of the button; trying your absolute hardest to prevent the twins from pressing the button.
âWhy do you guys want to stop the portal so badly!â You yelled over the loud swirling wind that emitted from the portal. âBecause itâs dangerous!â Dipper retorted, using his arm to shield him from the debris whizzing past him. âG-Grunkle Stan isnât who he says he is!â Dipper said, stepping closer to you.
âWhatever you guys saw or heard isnât what you think it is! Please, you need to believe me.â You begged, your eyes brimming with tears. Youâve worked so hard to get this portal up and running and you werenât going to let Dipper or anyone stop you from being able to see your dad.
Soos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. âIâm sorry, dude.â He picked you up and took you away from the button. âSoos, no!â You thrashed around his hold. You pound your fists against his arms, hoping itâll loosen his grip on you but nothing you did worked. No matter how much you begged and fought against him, he didnât budge. He just held you closer to him, muttering âIâm Sorryâ under his breath.
âThis all stops now!â Dipper raised his hand, palm flattened out, ready to push the button when Stan appeared at the doorway. âDonât touch that button!â
Heâs hunched forward, hand leaning on the frame of the doorway as he pants. Relief washes over you upon seeing Stan. Silence fills the room for a minute and all you can hear is your heart hammer against your ribcage. Stan walks towards Dipper, beckoning him to not press the button.
âIf you just let me explainââ Heâs cut off by his watch repeatedly beeping. Suddenly the ground begins to shake.
The portal powers up and the circle enlarges. The electricity spazzes and travels throughout the room, creating streaks of electrical power. Your feet lift off the ground and soon everyoneâs floating up in the air. The wind is fierce and itâs whipping through every direction, pushing you towards the wall.
Dipper yells at Mable to turn off the portal before it causes anymore damage. She tugs herself closer to the button using a stray cable and while she wraps herself around the neck holding up the button, Stan is begging her to listen to him and to not press the button. Heâs soon tackled by Soos who pushes him away from Mable. They all fight with each other and youâre watching with a bated breath.
The portal pulses with power, sending you back first into the wall. Stan and Dipper bicker back and forth and Mable is torn with the decision of either believing her brother or her Grunkle. She lowers her hand, eyes closed and you're almost convinced sheâs going to press the button when she lets go of the button. She floats up with her arms raised. âGrunkle Stan, I believe you.â She says.
âMable, are you crazy?! Weâre all gonnaâ!â
The world flashes white and you're immediately knocked out. You awaken to yourself plummeting face first down to the floor. You groan, pushing yourself up with one hand and the other wiping off the dust on your face. Looking around you can see your family scattered around the room, each of them slowly waking up from whatever happened and stumbling back to their feet.
Your head quickly whips towards the portal and your heart lurches into your throat upon seeing a figure step out of it. He stands still, staring straight ahead as he takes off his hood and goggles. And what hid behind them was your father.
After the initial shock of meeting the one behind the three books and the reveal of him being related to Stan was pushed aside, you presented yourself with the help of Stan. âH-Hi, Dad.â You awkwardly greet yourself.
His eyes stop on you and he freezes, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar. He takes a minute to process the absurdity of the situation before heâs snapping back to consciousness. He blinks once, his mouth stuttering as he finds the right words to say. He then blinks again, stepping a cautious step towards you. Your name softly spills out of his mouth and your heart soars hearing your Dad finally utter your name again.
You take a step forward and then another and another until youâre face to face with him. Being closer to him allowed you to see how much he has aged since the last time you saw him. âDadâŚâ You whisper, throwing yourself into him.
A light wheeze escapes his mouth from the sudden impact of your body crashing on him. Once he recovers, his arms are quickly wrapped around you, hugging you with so much warmth and love you almost sobbed right then and there.
He snuggled his face against your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he missed so dearly while he was away. âWe have so much to catch up on.â You say so quietly that he almost lost your words if it wasnât for you being directly near his ear. He hums in affirmation, cherishing the long awaited reunion with his daughter.
âI feel like this is another part where one of us faints again.â Mable says in utter disbelief at the scene that unfolded in front of her. âOhoh!â Soos laughed out. âIâm so on it, dudes.â As if on command his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints flat on his back.
HEADCANON TIME!!
⢠You werenât really expecting to talk to him much due to Stan wanting to talk to his brother, but after their fight, he came looking for you. When he found you, you were sitting on the couch that was outside on the porch. You were reading a book you recently purchased from the bookstore. Nose deep in your book, you failed to realize Ford standing beside you. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. Quietly he asked, âIs there room for one more?â
⢠The night was spent with the two of you getting to know each other. From your favorite color to your favorite show, what food you like to eat and so on. Ford wanted to fully understand and know you as a person. He wanted to make up all the years he lost with you.
⢠The next day, you awoke to the smell of your favorite breakfast food being cooked. With haste you pushed your blanket off of you and slipped on your slippers and sped off into the kitchen where Ford was buttering the pan. He looked over to you and flashed you a smile. âI made you your favorite.â He said, motioning over to the table where he laid out your breakfast. âYou didnât have to do this.â You scratched your cheek, a small laugh of surprise leaving you. âIâm just doing what I always dreamed of doing.â He shoveled out his breakfast onto his plate using a spatula. âHowâs the food, kiddo?â He asks, placing the pan and spatula on the dirty side of the sink. âActually pretty good for someone who hasn't been in this dimension for over a decade!â You jest, taking another delicious bite from your breakfast. Ford jokingly rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and sat down on his chair. âAlready poking fun at me.â He said, shaking his head.
⢠Stanford knew he had to focus on his projects, he had so many things he left unfinished that he'd been dying to get his hands on the minute he stepped foot into his dimension. But he couldnât seem to pull himself away from you. He loved seeing you interact with the twins, he loved watching how pieces of his personality shone through you. Like the way youâre so meticulous with where you put things, or how you were forever curious about the things around you, and even the abundance of questions youâd mutter to yourself as you discovered something new. Thatâs all of him right there, in front of him and he couldnât grasp such a thought that you were his!
⢠He finds himself gazing upon baby photos Stan took of you when you were younger. Even if heâs angry at his twin currently, heâs forever grateful that he documented such beautiful memories in a scrapbook. âYâknow, I used to tell stories about you to her.â A shriek leaves Ford. He jumps forward, the scrapbook tumbling down his lap and onto the floor. âYou idiot! Be careful.â Stan sneered, kneeling down to the floor to pick up the scrapbook. âStanley!â Ford leans his head back, trying to regain his composure. âYou scared me!â He says. âYeah, yeah. I know.â Stan waves him off, grabbing the scrapbook and tucking it in between his arms. They stand in awkward silence, eyes darting around the place uneasily. âDidâŚâ Ford starts, shattering the silence. âDid she like the stories you told of me?â Stan smiles fondly, nodding his head. âShe loved them. She thought you were some stupid amazing superhero, no matter what I told her.â Ford furrowed his brows. âWait, what do you mean by no matter what you told her?â Stan nervously laughed. âHey, why donât you keep looking at these photos! Wait here, look at this one. Haha! Sheâs trying to eat her toes, isnât that adorable?â âStanley.â
⢠Outings between the two of you were very common. He loved being tugged around the town of Gravity Falls by you as you pointed at various different shops and locations. You told him the reasons why you hated them or loved them, and some were tied to stories that happened within the summer. He seriously questioned how you and the twins survived so many times where you were just so close to death. The mall was a place where you and him resided the most. With the money he took from Stan, he paid for almost everything you wanted. Entering the shack with so many bags was a shock to everyone. âWoah! Did you buy the whole mall?â Mable jokes, grabbing one of the bags to help you with the load. âBasically,â you laughed, instructing Mable to rally Soos and Dipper to have a little haul of what you bought. Stan watched with a raised brow as you stumbled into the living room with Mable following closely behind. âWhere did you get all the money to buy her all of that?â Stan asks. âJust stole some money from some hobo.â Ford said, walking into the living room to join in on the haul. Stan didnât understand what he said and opened the cash register. When he saw all the money he had stored the day before gone, it all clicked.
⢠Adventures out in the woods is a must. Gathering the twins and your dad, all four of you venture out into the woods in hopes to find something new. âWhy couldnât Grunkle Stan tag along with us?â Mable asked as she kneeled down to pluck a flower from the dirt. âBecause heâs being a wet towel.â Dipper muttered, scribbling down a rough drawing of the flower Mable was picking in a book you bought him. âSo what kind of anomalies you three stumbled upon?â Ford questioned. You and the twins began to dump everything onto him, from when you started seeing them to when Dipper and Mable came. Ford couldnât truly focus on what they were saying, mostly because it was a jumbled excited mess of words, but partially because he was astonished with the trio in front of him. They went through so much and yet theyâre still so headstrong. He could definitely see a little bit of him in Dipper and Mable.
⢠Stan would find you and Ford fallen asleep on the couch or in his lab, all huddled up together and completely knocked out. Snores filled the room and he found it amusing that you and him both snores the same. Videos and photos were definitely taken by Mable.
⢠Ford would tell stories of his adventures in another dimension to you. Stemming from how he started from the ground up to him getting banned from many other dimensions for stealing parts. âYouâre not so different from Uncle Stan,â You laughed, shaking your head. âWhat! It was only a fewâŚhundred dimensions.â
⢠Thereâs times where youâd wake up in a cold sweat, afraid that your Dad finally coming back was just a painful dream your brain played on you. But when you would get ready to find him, youâd step on his stomach or back. âOugh!â Ford groaned out in pain. Being suddenly woken up from his sleep, he sat up, looking around confused. âWhat are you doing sleeping on the floor?â You sat back down on your bed, pulling the blankets over you. âIs there a problem with me sleeping on the floor?â Ford asks, looking at you with squinted eyes. âNo, no.â You laid back down on your bed. âGo back to sleep. Iâm better now,â You say, somewhat amused with Ford sleeping on the floor beside your bed. âGoodnight, I love you.â You brush your fingers playfully across his face to annoy him. He shoves your fingers away from his face, huffing out. âGoodnight,â He shuffles to his side, looking up to you with a small smile. âI love you more, kiddo.â
#stanford pines x reader#stanford pines x daughter#stanford pines x child#stanford pines#stanford pines x daughter! reader#stanford pines x child! reader#stanley pines x reader#stanley pines x daughter! reader#gravity falls x reader#gravity falls#dipper pines x sibling!reader#mable pines x sibling!reader#dipper pines x reader#mable pines x reader
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hiii, i love your writing so freaking much, can i please ask for a Franco fic inspired on Gold rush by taylor swift? he just literally gave me that vibe and I NEED to read something like that, please and thank you <3
everybody wants you â§âË⊠- franco colapinto
summary: when your best friend since birth finally joins you in formula one, it's safe to say that you're excited - though when it becomes apparent that he's the more favoured one, you start to doubt things, including your feelings w/c: 2.8k
a/n: oh anon i love this idea but also this was my first time listening to this song so i hope i interpreted it the way you hoped and did it service !!! <333
You hated how cliche it was.Â
The two of you were childhood best friends, together for as long as you could remember. You always credited yourself for getting into karting first and Franco, always eager to stay by your side, followed suit. The track only gave the two of you another domain to be inseparable in, with every race ending with both of you on the podium - and it never mattered who was first, only that you were both there, together.Â
There was an unspoken understanding in your hometown that the two of you were never to be separated, which you initially revelled in, but the older you got the more you felt yourself developing a feeling towards your friend you couldnât quite explain. Somewhere in the realm of jealousy, just beyond admiration and reaching just short of a childhood crush.
It came in waves, flowing whenever you were reminded of just how different the two of you were, and how inadequate you felt next to him - with his charismatic personality and curly brown hair that always fell perfectly into place, always drawing more and more people towards him. The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself wondering why he had chosen you of all people to stick so close by, even if he never gave you a reason to doubt it.Â
And so when you decided to move away to pursue racing, it wasnât shocking that Franco would too. The two of you set off, after many tearful goodbyes to your friends and family back home, to brace the world, hand in hand.Â
You stayed racing for the same teams, always getting promoted or signed at the exact same time - almost as if the universe had heard the same unspoken understanding of your town, and knew that you worked best together. And whilst it helped to see each other during practices, debriefs, and even wearing the same uniforms, it was far from the only thing that kept your friendship strong.Â
Away from almost everything else the two of you knew, you clung to each other tightly and came to know absolutely everything about each other through it. Hushed midnight conversations, early morning snack runs, and even visiting landmarks as you grew and travelled countries - all the while with Franco by your side.Â
Strangely enough, it never did occur to you to see the boy beside you as more than just a friend - no matter how much the other girls you befriended seemed to think otherwise. Whenever they would sneakily whisper to you, asking whether you were sure the two of you were just friends you would always roll your eyes shooting back something along the lines of Ew? Franco? No, weâve known each other forever - which typically made them happy to pursue him themselves, even if they strangely never succeeded.Â
All this came to a screeching halt in the summer of your second year in Formula Two, however, when you were met with a contract deal from Alpine Racing. A racing seat for one.Â
âYouâre taking it right?â his voice is excited as the two of you sit in the stuffy hostel room youâre sharing with about eight other strangers, all too broke or cheap to pay for anything better. Franco was the first you had told, before your coach, before your family, before anyone.Â
âI donât know Franco, I mean-âÂ
âWhat? Why wouldnât you?âÂ
You chew your bottom lip as you fiddle with the bedsheet below you, not able to look him in the eye. âIt means we wonât get to race together you know,â you sigh.Â
âWell you donât know that, maybe you race alone for a year but once I make it into F1 weâll be side by side again! Plus youâre stupid if you think I wonât be visiting every one of your races anyway.âÂ
You watch his green eyes scan your expression, searching for a clue to how youâre feeling.Â
âItâs just a big step, I donât know if Iâm ready for it.âÂ
âI think youâre more than ready,â he insists, though you donât feel convinced.Â
When you finally speak again your voice is tiny, âIâm scared, Franco.âÂ
In that moment, he gives you a sympathetic look before pulling you into a tight hug and even though neither of you spoke about it again that night, you knew exactly what it meant - I know youâre scared, but Iâm here for you.Â
And you arenât ashamed of the fact that it was his reaction alone that pushed you to make the decision to take up the deal, and you couldnât have been happier that you did. At least, thatâs how you felt for the initial months of your contract which was filled with cocktail parties, race suit fittings and media interviews. And despite what you had expected, and as selfish as it mightâve been, having Franco not by your side for once felt like a breath of fresh air you hadnât known you needed - it filled you with a lone sense of pride, having âmade itâ without someone being right there for you to be compared to.Â
It was perhaps this sense of pride that helped you manage to score points on your debut. You still remember running up to where Franco was waiting for you in the garage, the biggest smile on both of your faces as you jumped into his arms - and it felt, just for a moment, like this euphoria mightâve been what you had spent your whole life waiting for.Â
But perhaps you had spoken too soon, since your progress saw a steep decline causing you to lose not only the chances to score points and impress your team, but also the confidence you had spent so long working on.Â
And one night, just when it seemed like you were at your lowest, after a weekend full of DNFs and near-crashes - the most unexpected thing happened. A singular text from Franco, halfway across the world, excitedly explaining how he was going to be filling a position in Formula One, in a different team to you.Â
There wasnât a single word to describe the millions of emotions you felt rushing through you in that moment. For one, surprise at the mid-season switch as well as a certain sort of selfish disappointment that you would no longer be the only one in the highest form of the sport you both loved. But above all else, a thrumming excitement about being with your best friend once more - to see him at the paddock, catch up with him during sessions and not have to trek all the way into grandstands just to see his face.Â
It didnât take you long to realise though, that you were far from the only one who felt this way. It was almost like the moment Franco stepped foot on the paddock, donning the blue of Williams for his first race weekend, the world fell in love with him. Online, conversations about him blew up to the point where you couldnât go moments without being bombarded by clips of his interviews or edits of him. It was strange, one part of you felt proud that the world was finally waking up to the treasure that was your best friend, but another felt the strong urge to hide him away, for him to be all yours.Â
A small part of you had expected this, having known Franco and his personality since before you could put it into words - but what you hadn't expected was for him to also back it up with amazing performances. Now, it was him who was scoring points and impressing everyone - and you who was left to do little more other than celebrate with him, for your own results paled in comparison. And once news got out about you being childhood friends, through a couple of grainy leaked photos of the two of you smiling proudly in your tiny karts, the comparisons started up again.Â
It was like salt in the wound, agonisingly so - seeing your best friend adored him doing well in the sport you got into first, while you were left to, weekend after weekend, fail to make it into points range. And to make matters worse, the media frenzy that cropped up around Franco did little other than make you come to a realisation you might've spent your whole life running from - that you were jealous, not of Franco, but of those who loved him. That maybe your desire to constantly stick by his side was more than just a childish habit, and that your jealousy of his achievements was just a reminder that youâd never be more than just a friend, one that was always a little behind, a little worse.Â
Despite your best efforts, the two of you began to drift apart, each achievement he got driving a deeper and deeper wedge between you. It hurt a lot, race weekends beginning to bleed into each other - a plain blur of failed races, celebrations from other teams, and Franco's adoring fans.
It all seemed to come to a head one weekend, a minor crash in an earlier lap winding you up in the Alpine garage - sweaty, irritated and extremely exhausted. Yet you continued to watch the race, not so much for anyone else, but more so that you could keep a close eye on the blurry blue car, and its driver.
And before you knew it you were watching it cross the finish line in third, Francoâs first podium - right in front of your eyes.Â
You werenât sure why, but your first instinct was to hastily get up from the fold-out chair you were sitting on and rush away to your driver's room, like a child throwing an immature tantrum. You knew Franco well enough to know heâd come looking for you but knew yourself enough just as well to know you couldnât face him right now. With everything that had been going on, with the constant stream of less-than-kind comments you were getting online and the extreme dip in your performance, the last thing you wanted was to be reminded of your inadequacy. It was extremely selfish, sure, but you convinced yourself that you were actually doing Franco a favour since you knew your acting skills were too poor to convincingly put on a show as he celebrated right in front of you. You always had been a faster runner than him, at least, thatâs what years of playground tag had told you.Â
But it had been a while since then and before you could make it to your room you heard an all-too-familiar voice call from behind you.Â
âHey!âÂ
âNot now Franco,â you huff, so close to the door of your room that youâve got one hand on its handle already.Â
âWhat? Câmon, I just got a podium and thatâs all you have to say?â You pause at the handle, the hurt tone in his voice pulling at your heartstrings.Â
âYeah, I saw, good job but I just canât right now.âÂ
âCanât what? Youâre joking, right?â His voice rises in volume a little, and he sounds in disbelief - youâre glad the garages are mostly empty so that no one can see the scene heâs making.Â
âNo, Iâm not,â you shoot back firmly. Youâre still facing away from him, arm hanging limp from the door handle - you canât remember the last time you felt this defeated, this tired.Â
âSeriously, what is going on with you lately? Itâs like, you were so excited for us to race together but now we barely talk even though we see each other every day.âÂ
âFranco,â you say, quietly.Â
âWeâve known each other forever but this feels like the first time where I truly have no clue what is going on in your head, why donât you ever talk to me anymore? You donât think I donât notice you avoiding me?âÂ
âFranco, please.â You feel tears pricking up at the corners of your eyes, and it doesnât help how accusatory he sounds.Â
âPlease, what?âÂ
âPlease, just go celebrate.âÂ
âNo! If you think Iâm just going to leave now without you, youâre seriously ridiculous. I mean, this is what we always dreamed of, isnât it?âÂ
At that, you turn around to face him - looking him in the eyes for the first time in what feels like months. You watch his brows unfurrow immediately as his expression softens at the sight of you, tears welling up in your eyes which are surrounded by dark circles, marks left from your many sleepless nights. Itâs clear that he notices how small you look as well as you hunch into yourself, barely having the energy to stand up straight.Â
âWoah, hey,â he says, his tone gentle now.Â
âDonât do this Franco, donât talk to me like weâre still children,â you say, instinctively defensive.Â
âArenât we?âÂ
You let out a laugh, soft yet cruel as you struggle to hold in your tears, âEverythingâs different now, isnât it? When was the last time we were on a podium together or even spoke face to face like this.âÂ
âWhat are you even saying?â You feel a pang of pain in your heart at the look in his eyes, a little anger mixed with disbelief.Â
âIâm saying, that maybe being friends isnât going to work if weâre racing against each other anymore. Have you seen the way I get compared to you relentlessly? Everyone loves you, everyone wants you, and Iâm just, there! Do you have any idea what thatâs like? To have no one backing you?â Â
âYouâre my best friend, Iâm right here, backing you!âÂ
âFranco,â you say, just above a whisper.Â
Thereâs a moment of silence, and you can see Franco working up the courage to say something, his hands fiddling with the fireproof mask heâs been holding this whole time. You feel a couple of tears finally make their way down your cheeks and you do your best to wipe them away, eager to not embarrass yourself in front of him anymore.Â
âI love you.â He finally says.Â
âDonât say that, please, donât say that.â Youâre about to turn away, ready to just shut yourself in your room.Â
âNo, like, I love you.â You hear him take a couple steps closer to you, to the point where heâs right behind you.Â
âYou donât mean that,â you sigh.Â
âI do,â he says, barely above a whisper, âI have, for years.âÂ
You pause, silently turning around to face him, and it feels like the breath has been knocked out of you. He looks at you, nervously waiting for a response though trying to put on a face that tells you how serious he is about what heâs just said.Â
âAnd I know that you probably donât feel the same but I need you to know this because I canât keep going on like this, barely seeing or talking to you and-â he begins to ramble, and all you do is let out a relieved sigh as you lean forward to rest your head on his chest in silence. However, itâs clear this confuses him as he stops talking immediately.Â
âI love you too, Franco.âÂ
âWh- really?âÂ
âYes,â you say, the smile audible in your voice.Â
âLike, seriously?âÂ
âAs serious as a heart attack.â You lean back against the door with a smile of relief, or as much a smile as you can muster up figuring that you feel like youâre about to collapse right there and then.Â
âIâd kiss you but,â he gestures to his face and hair which is drenched in sweat.Â
âOh shut up and come here,â you say quietly, looping your arms around his neck as you pull him close to you. When your lips meet his arms wrap around your waist as he pushes you up against the door of your room, and even though you couldnât care less, youâre once again glad thereâs no one here to see the two of you. No cameras, no fans, no other drivers - just the two of you, and the years of history between you.Â
When you part, his face is flushed as he offers you a shy smile, his arms still around your waist. âYou have no idea how long Iâve waited to hear you say that.âÂ
âI could say the same for you.âÂ
âSo, what now?â he asks.Â
âYou go celebrate your first podium,â you reply excitedly.Â
âWe,â he corrects, finally unlooping his arms to take you by the hand and lead you out of the garage - and whilst your beaming smiles mightâve seemed to many the results of his podium, the two of you knew they were part of something much, much bigger.Â
taglist: @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto oneshot#williams racing#williams f1#formula one fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one fluff#formula one#purinfelix#jet writes â
#jet answers â§
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I LOVE the idea of protective Hotch constantly having an eye out for younger bau!agent whoâs literally sunshine personified and the complete opposite of him!! Do u think u could write something along the lines of thatâmaybe him protecting her from something or just their dynamic?
i also love protective hotch!!! tysm for the request i hope u like it baby :D | 1k of fluff, tw for a small burn!
Youâd been surprised when you got a job at the BAU. You didnât have that much faith in yourself at first. Not to say you donât believe in your skills, but itâs a widely known part of the bureau. A lot of people wanted the job.
And then, thereâs Agent Hotchner, unit chief and intimidating though youâre sure he doesnât mean to be. You were insanely nervous at the beginning.
That was before you started, before the team welcomed you as the new media liaison after Agent Jareau became a profiler. You met Garcia and her collection of fun high heels, Reid and his never ending supply of facts, and you sort of fit right in.
Hotch became much less intimidating. A kind man who cares so deeply for his team that you couldnât help but like him the way you do. Not to mention the dynamic that built between the two of you.
The small things he does for you that are impossible to ignore. A hand covering the edge of your desk to protect your head when you were searching underneath it for a dropped paper clip, the way he physically places himself between you and danger if he ever gets the chance.
Heâs always there, protecting you in ways both big and little, and you enjoy it more than you should.
Itâs even brighter on nights like tonight. Drinks and snacks at Penelopeâs after a tough case. Nights when you get to call him Aaron instead of Hotch, when he smiles and laughs freely without restraint.
The beep of the oven cuts off yours and Garciaâs conversation, and when she shifts to take care of it, you stop her, âI got it! Youâre already hosting, just relax a little.â
âThank you,â she smiles, squeezing your arm as you walk by.
The smell of food in the oven hits your nose as you walk into the kitchen, humming along to whatever song spills through the speakers.
You pull the oven open, reaching in without thinking and touching the pan with your bare hand. You drop it quickly, metal clanking as it falls back onto the rack in the oven.
âShit!â You say it loudly, and then, even louder, addressing the team in the next room, âIâm okay!â
They all laugh a little at your reassurance, and then, like they know he wouldnât let anyone else check on you before him, pretty much every set of eyes in the room lands on Hotch.
He shakes his head and heads to the kitchen, because he wouldâve gone either way.
âYou okay?â He asks, finding you with an oven mitt on your non-burnt hand, reaching into the oven, and your burnt hand shaking by your side.
âOh!â You set the pan of nachos on top of the stove and slip off the mitt, turning off the oven and looking at Hotch. âI forgot oven mitts were a thing for a second there. Burnt my hand, I think.â
Heâs on you in a second, his hands gently grasping your injured arm, pushing back your sleeve and guiding you over to the sink. His hold is light, never bruising even though you know he has the strength to do so.
Itâs the kiss of sunlight on skin.
Aaron turns on the sink, places his fingers under the water to make sure the temperatureâs okay before guiding your hand under the stream.
âYou still took out the nachos first?â He asks, even when he knows thatâs what youâd do, because of course youâre worrying about everyone else before yourself.
âI didnât want them to burn.â
Youâre trying to be brave, though your hand hurts so much there are tears misting your eyes. Youâre bouncing on your feet a little to try and deal with the pain.
âHow bad does it hurt?â Hotch checks.
Aaronâs felt this sort of protectiveness over you ever since you started. A little younger than him, this ball of light thatâs come bursting into his life. Youâre always the positive one, even in the darkest situations and he canât help but want to shield you to keep it that way.
Thereâs this thing in his chest that tugs and tugs when youâre around, that makes him stand next to you in any room, in front of you in darkness.
âItâs okay,â you say, though your voice cracks a little. âIâm sure youâve seen much worse, Hotch.â
âAaron,â he reminds you gently, âand you donât have to pretend. Itâs alright if it hurts, I just wanna help.â
The sink running mingles with the music coming from the next room, the background noise to your moment with him.
âYou could bring the nachos out? I told Garcia I would, but we see how that turned out.â
âOkay, I'll bring them out.â
âDonât forget oven mitts!â
He huffs with a smile, somehow always surprised with how easily you can turn something around. A smile on your face even with tears shining in your eyes and a hand thatâs surely stinging.
Aaron carries the tray of nachos and drops them off, then turns to Penelope, âyou have a first aid kit?â
âOh my gosh! Yeah, bathroom cabinet, I can grab it.â
âItâs alright, Garcia. Iâll get it.â
âIs everything okay?â
âDonât worry. Nothing major, Iâm taking care of it.â
He grabs the first aid kit and heads back to the kitchen where youâre still holding your hand under the stream of water.
âOkay,â Aaron sets the kit down on the counter, opening it and then turning off the tap. âLet me see, honey.â
The word melts into you, sticky sweet, and you hold your hand towards him, palm up.
He starts by drying your hand with a piece of paper towel, pressing your skin lightly. His other hand is under yours, his palm against the back of your hand a painkiller in itself.
You hiss when he hits a sensitive spot, and heâs quick to apologize, his voice low and quiet. âSorry. Iâm sorry. Almost done.â
âItâs okay, Aaron. It's not your fault I thought I was heat-proof.â
âYouâre cute.â
A smile spreads over your face, your head tilted down to stare and his hands around yours. You watch him spread some Polysporin over your burn, his fingertips featherlight over your skin, soft apologies leaving him every time you flinch a little.
By the time heâs done, the first aid kit shut on the counter, youâve both forgotten about the rest of the team in the next room. Aaronâs happy to bask in your sunshine.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x bau!reader#aaron hotchner imagines#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner blurbs#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner request#aaron hotchner requests#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds hotch#criminal minds imagine#hotch criminal minds#agent hotchner#hotch x reader#hotch x you
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second chances | s.r.
the one where Spence regrets everything thatâs happened in the past six months.
pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever too write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. iâm hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.
pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist
The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.
You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.
Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.
You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.
You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.
Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.
As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.
From: Penny
Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!
A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.
You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.
-
You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.
It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.
You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.
You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.
You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been, what could've been.
-
The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.
You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.
And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.
Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldnât allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.
As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something⌠hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.
He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.
ây/n,â he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.
âSpence,â you said, offering a forced smile. You couldnât help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldnât let yourself show it.
âI, uh, can we talk?â he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.
Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didnât want to make a scene. âNowâs not the best time.â
He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didnât watch him go, how could you?
-
Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you werenât looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.
You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.
ây/n,â he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.
You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldnât keep avoiding him forever.
Turning around slowly, you nodded. âSpencer.â
âCan we talk?â he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.
You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. âDo we really need to? I think weâve said everything we need to say.â
âNo,â he replied, shaking his head. âI donât think we have. At least not yet.â He paused, looking down at his feet. âPlease.â
You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didnât know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.
âAlright,â you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. âLetâs talk.â
-
The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didnât move, didnât speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.
You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldnât, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.
Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. âI never meant to hurt you,â he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.
He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldnât bear to look at you. âIâm so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.â
His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.
âI thought I was doing the right thing,â he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. âI thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe⌠to move on. To get away from the chaos thatâs always been a part of my life.â
The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?
âYou pushed me away, Spencer,â you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. âI didnât ask for space. I didnât ask for you to shut me out. I was here⌠I've always been here.â The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldnât stop it even if you tried. âI just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.â
His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. âI was scared,â he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadnât even meant to say it. âI was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That Iâd hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, youâd be better off without me. But all Iâve done is hurt you even more.â
The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didnât bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.
âI donât know if I can forgive you, Spencer,â you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.
âYou didnât just break my heart⌠you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didnât give me a chance. And now youâre asking me to just⌠what? To just forget?â
Spencerâs face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didnât look away. He couldnât. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. âI donât want you to forget,â he said, his voice shaking with emotion.
âI just want a chance. A chance to prove that Iâm not that guy anymore. That Iâm not the one who left you⌠that Iâm the one whoâs ready to fight for us.â
You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. âI donât know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I donât know if I can trust you after everything.â
He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. âPlease,â he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. âIâve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I donât want to lose you. I canât lose you.â
Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for somethingâanything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasnât the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.
âIâm scared, Spencer,â you whispered, your voice barely audible. âIâm scared that if I let you back in, youâll leave again. That youâll hurt me again.â
He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.
âI wonât leave again,â he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. âI swear. Iâll fight for you. For us. Iâll fight for as long as it takes.â
The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didnât know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.
âIâm not asking for things to be perfect,â Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. âI just need you to know that Iâm here. And Iâm not going anywhere.â
You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they werenât just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. âIâm not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,â you said softly, your voice trembling. âBut Iâm willing to try. Iâm willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.â
His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. âI do,â he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. âI mean it. More than anything.â
And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You werenât sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you werenât alone. And maybe that was enough.
-
It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.
The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.
You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didnât mind.
You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things youâd grown to cherish.
Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasnât perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.
âY/n?â Spencerâs voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.
You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good nightâs sleep, when he wasnât overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.
âI was wondering⌠would you mind helping me with something later?â His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasnât afraid to ask for help anymore.
Youâd noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasnât afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.
âOf course,â you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far youâd come since that difficult conversation. âWhat do you need help with?â
Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. âIâm working on this case⌠and I just need to go over the details. I know youâve got that⌠special way of seeing things,â he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname youâd earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. âYouâre better at spotting the details than I am.â
You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. âOh, so now Iâm the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.â
Spencerâs smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didnât even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. âYou are the expert,â he said softly. âAnd Iâm just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.â
The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didnât feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everythingâevery single piece of youâhad found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.
âIâll help you,â you said softly, squeezing his hand. âJust like I always do.â
Spencerâs expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasnât just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everythingâfor your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.
âYou know,â Spencer said, his voice low, âI never thought Iâd have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.â
You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. âI think weâve finally figured out how to make it work,â you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. âNo more pushing each other away. No more running. Just⌠us.â
Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. âIâm not running anymore,â he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. âIâm staying. For good.â
There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasnât a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said weâre here, and that was enough.
As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didnât need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything youâd ever wanted.
The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each otherâs company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, youâd face it together.
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First off thank you for writing for Hugh we need more of that and second idk but I'm thinking reader calls him Daddy for the first time and they have been seeing each other for awhile now
18+ No Minors
A/N: First off anon, I will write for Hugh as often as you all will let me!!!! Literally send in more requests for him! I hope you're happy with it. And I know the picture is Logan buttttt I needed a photo showing the vein off on his stomach đ btw I was listening to the song Gorilla by Bruno Mars during this writing process
Warnings: very dirty smut, name calling (daddy, cockslut, dirty fucking slut), choking, oral (m recieving), slight breeding kink, a jealous Hugh đ¤¤
"You're such a tease, you know that?" Hugh pushes you against the wall as he wraps a hand around your throat, "You wore this dress just to get me riled up, didn't you sweetheart?" He asks, kissing you deeply. "I seen it at the store and knew you would love it. I wore it just for you." You breathe out, moaning when he kisses down your neck.
"Everybody was staring at what's mine," He unzips your zipper, pushing the dress down until it pools around your feet then lifts you up so your legs wrap around his waist, "Maybe I should mark you up so they know you belong to me, hm?" His mouth lands back on your neck, sucking softly before moving down to another and doing the same.
Your hands grip his hair, letting out a loud moan as he does. "I'm all yours, Hugh. Fuck. I belong to you." You choke out. He looks at you, smirking then leads you to his bed, laying you down before taking his own shirt off.
Your mouth goes dry as you stare at his sculpted body, feeling a gush of excitement in your stomach. His hand grabs the side of you face, "Take my pants off and show me how bad you want to prove that you're mine." You sit up on your knees, kissing him deeply as your hands work on his pants, gripping the hem while you trail down his body and leave a line of hickeys then running your tongue down the vein from his stomach to his dick, listening as he moans.
Pushing his pants and briefs down, a moan escapes your lips when you see his erection. You'll never get over how much bigger Hugh is than anyone else you've ever been with but he's always helped you take it with ease.
You look up as you lick a stripe up the vein on the side of his dick, looking up to see him staring down at you with dark, clouded eyes. He bunches your hair in his hand as the other holds the base of his cock, holding it for you when your mouth finally wraps around it, taking his length all the way down your throat.
"Shit, sweetheart. Your mouth was made for me." Hugh moans as he throws his head back. You work your mouth around him, taking him fully ever so often, feeling yourself get wetter listening to his moans. His hips start bucking against you so you reposition yourself, bracing for him to start fucking your mouth.
Hugh thrusts up, making you gag as you take him all the way down before pulling out and doing it again. He starts an almost brutal pace as the tears start flowing down your cheeks, running your nails down his chest and abs.
"That's it, sweetheart. Mark me up so I can show everyone how big of a cockslut you are for me." His words make you moan sound him and he continues, "You're taking my dick so fucking good. Fuck. I could do this all night but I really need to be inside of your cunt."
He pulls out and pushes you back on the bed, positioning himself in between your legs, placing them on his shoulder as he slides in. "So wet for me, sweetheart. I haven't even touched your pussy and you're literally dripping for me." Hugh moans. "It's all for you, only you." You whine as he starts thrusting into you slow and hard.
"Still want to show off for the world? Or are you going to do it just for me from now on?" He asks slamming his hips into yours. "Only you, daddy, fuck." You moan but your eyes widen when you realize what you just said but hugh just smirks at you. "That's right, love. Daddy owns you and this fucking pussy."
Hugh grabs the back of your knees, pushing them down to your chest and starts pounding at a brutal pace. Your hands fly up to his chest, gripping him tightly as he does, feeling your body start trembling. "That's it sweetheart, cum all over your daddy's cock. I should take a video of how I'm fucking you so you always have a reminder on who owns you." You moan, clenching around him.
"You like that idea, huh. You dirty fucking slut." He moans wrapping a hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to have you seeing stars but not enough to cut off your airway. You moan out as your orgasm sweeps over you, "D-Daddy, 's so good. You fill me up so well with your dick."
His moans fill the room as he throws his head back, and the sight of his sweaty body and his eyes closed in pleasure damn near has you cumming on his cock again. "Daddy is going to fill you so full of his cum, sweetheart. I'm going to fill you up until your full of my babies and show to everyone that only I can touch and fuck you." He says as his hips start faltering and he pushes all the way inside of you, releasing his seed deep inside.
"That's it, take my cum like the good girl you are." He says while pushing down on your stomach, making you moan out. Hugh pulls out and lays beside you, pulling you close.
"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I, sweetheart?" He asks, taking a deep breath. There's your sweet boyfriend back. You bury your face into his chest, smiling. "No. I loved every bit of it, daddy." You say, making him laugh. "You really made a switch flip in me when you said that. I never knew I had that kink until you." Hugh tells you as he looks down at you. "I never had it until you. I just didn't know how to bring it up." You glance up at him to see him smiling.
"I'm glad you did," He kisses you softly, "Let's go get you cleaned up." Hugh stands up then picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom and sets you on the counter. You watch him turn the bath on and when he turns back around, you gasp at his torso. "Fuck, I'm sorry, baby." You run your fingers over the scratches and hickeys. "Don't be. I told you I was going to show off how I make you feel." He kisses you again and you can't help but look at him, smiling.
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman fluff#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x smut#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fluff#l#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett
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⊠ËË . GOJO SATORU ; â you canât help but feel a little upset thinking that your boyfriend has forgotten your anniversary.
ŕŽ Ë ŕŁŞŕżŕž warnings! f!reader, none, fluff! although it gets a tiny bit hawt at the end! âĄ Ë ŕŁŞŕżŕž note! an anon suggested this drabble idea literally like sometime last year + the new szn finally gave me some motivation to write it! i hope u see this!
3 years.. 3 years and gojo didnât leave you with so much as a âhappy anniversaryâ as he left this morning. youâd have even taken an extra smack on the ass during your usual morning makeout session, the taste of his two sugarâs too sweet coffee on his tongue as it twists with yours and his hands on your waist.. but thatâs it, thatâs all???
so now youâre here, angrily stomping back to your shared apartment after the few errands you had to run today because you took the day off to celebrate. but your dumb, stupidly handsome boyfriend doesnât even know what for as he rambles on the other side of the phone.
âcan feel you poutinâ, whatâs gotten into my sweet girl? hm?â gojo hums like hes thinking about something, his same sickly sweet tone dripping through you like honey despite the way you want to be mad at him right nowâ you wouldâve ignored the call all together, just to be petty if you didnât know heâd turn up at the door a second later.
ânothing. iâm just almost home thatâs all.â youâre lying and you know he can tell, he always could. he could pick up every slight, little change in your attitude like he seen right through you.
âoh yeah? nothing at all on your mind?â gojo drawls again, thereâs a teasing lull to his voice and it makes your pout puff out even more before he breathes out a low chuckle and sighs. âand here i thought you were mad at me. you almost made me cry at workâ who would take me seriously then, huh?â
âyouâre not funny.â you huff out, short and a little clipped as you finally come to a stop infront of your apartment door â fiddling with your keys in your hand while your pout still rests on your features.
âyou sure?â
you really canât be bothered playing gojoâs games right now and as amusing as he seems to find himself, itâs only making you burn hotter â making your stomach twist with the lump in your throat that youâve been fighting to keep down all day. you donât want to get upset, but it meant a lot to you.
you just wanted him to maybe put in a little effort on the one day that you guys really get to celebrate eachother.
âpositive. so iâm gonna gââ you can barely finish your own spiralling, upsetting thoughts before your snapped response through your phone fades on your tongue. but suddenly, the tears youd been fighting to hold back all day seem to come so ruthlessly, gathering along your lashes as you gaze onto the ocean of red that greets you as you open the door.
youâre not sure how many bouquets there are waiting for you there. hundreds? thousands? sitting pretty along the floor, decorating the shared space so beautifully that you donât even realise that youâve gone quiet. ofcourse gojo would do something like this, and suddenly you feel a little silly for even doubting him.
âah, fine. i guess iâll get the guy to come pick all of those back up then, huh, sweet thing?â
but the smooth tone that sounds from your phone speaker sounds a little louder, closer when itâs accompanied by a long arm wrapping around your waist from behind as kisses are pressed up the side of your neck.
âbut, youââ you try but you feel so overwhelmed, so full of love as gojoâs large figure drapes over you from behind. his face is stuffed into the crook of your neck and you can feel the way his crooked smile sits on his features as it presses against your skin. he feels warm, although youâre sure heâs more than smug right now when he pulls away with an exaggerated gasp that cuts off your sentence.
âas if youâre perfect, good looking boyfriend would ever forget. what do you take me for, hm?â you giggle at that despite the way heâs teasing you again, squeezing at your sides until youâre meeting his gaze and youâre sure you must look so in love when you notice the way his features soften slightly.
âhappy anniversary, princess.â gojo grins as he leans into kiss you breathless, twisting into your mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and you almost rock back with how dizzy he makes you feel. but his hands are on your hips, keeping you close against his chest with a stability that youâd always found in him.
another long press of his lips with yours and you whimper sweetly as he pulls away to look at you, pretty gaze glowing slightly from under the snowy peaks of his hair before heâs smirking again, maybe a little wider this time.
âyou gonna laugh fâ me when i tell jokes again? i can feel the tears threatening to start again.â heâs like a professional when his cheeky grin twists into an exaggerated pout, making you laugh againâ a little harder this time before youâre pinching at his cheeks playfully and bringing him in for another quick kiss.
âyouâre such a dork.â you tease and gojo groans against your lips like heâs offended.
âmmm, no thank you? oh iâm hurt, sweet girl. whatâll i do with you now, hm?â the look he gives you as he pulls away is suspicious, a raised brow as his head falls to the side and he really looks like heâs considering it. until the next moment his large palm is coming down heavy on your ass before his next handful squeezes.
âsatoru!â you squeal but that only seems to make him chuckle as he leans down to kiss you again, rougher this time despite the way youâre both smiling giddily into the shared, messy press of eachother. almost too quickly finding yourself pressed up against the wall in the hallway as he melts into you.
âletâs see! oh, iâve got a few ideas.â
Š 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#Ý . ŕż : sealedďżź#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff
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https://www.tumblr.com/42angelgirl/759618404922621952/i-feel-like-angel-and-drew-would-get-in-like-a
write this as a one shot pls
warnings / notes ; angst đ¤ + drew being kinda mean :( based on this post !!! i kinda just jump right in lol sorry
ŕż*:シ đ áŚďž
"when will you realize i'm trying y/n?" drew scoffed, throwing his arm in the air. "i'm fucking trying here."
he didn't even have to explain himself and you already knew what he was talking about. and he was right. so for once you couldn't argue back, you just looked at him, hoping that this conversation wouldnât hurt too bad.
"i love you." drew sighed. "do you love me?" he rubbed the back of his buzzed head. "tell me. do you love me?" he asked again, but this time more demanding.
of course you loved him, why couldn't he see that you'd love him no matter what? with a stupid ring or not.
"yes." you stared at him with glossy eyes. a singular tear falling down your face.
"do you?" drew paused, hoping that you'd elaborate a little more. "it doesn't feel like it." drew nervously chuckled. "i'm crazy about you. like fucking crazy about you. and you're making me feel stupid for wanting to marry you." drew furrowed his eyebrows. "is it really that stupid of an idea? that i want to marry the girl who i'm fucking crazy about?"
"no." was all you could say, for once you couldn't bring yourself to say anything else. you had so much you wanted to say, but none of it would have made sense.
"then why are you making me feel that way?â
âi donât mean to,â you said softly, so soft it was barely audible.
âi know,â drew loosened up his tone a bit, feeling bad for making you cry. but to be honest, he shouldâve been the one crying. âi know you donât mean to but,â drew heisted. âbut i need to know if iâm wasting my time.â
there was no other way to describe what he said other than your heart literally shattering. wasting his time? he couldnât have meant that.
âiâm sorry,â tears were falling down your face faster and faster. why would he say that to you?
âyou donât have to apologize.â drew came closer to you, embracing you in a hug. it didnât feel genuine though, it felt like a pity hug. âwe can talk more about this tomorrow, kay?â
âokay.â you pulled away from the hug, looking up at drew with your red puffy eyes.
wasting his time?
#bookshelf#angel!reader#younger!reader#drew starkey prompt#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader
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