#and i need to know if it's happening again because that would be kind of funny.

[eternalguk]

Before Sunday Ends | jjk. (M)

I love you the first time, I love you the last time.

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : With scents of vanilla lingering in the air. With the comforting sound of Jungkook cooking. And, with a deep, unspoken connection that needs no words... you find yourself falling in love with Jungkook all over again.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, slice of life au, boyfriend.jk & teacher!reader (just slight references)

↠ Word count : 4.5k

↠ Warnings : flirting (you make cringe!), kissing, making out, mentions of shirtless Jungkook, mentions of food / cooking, making out, shower!sex (he fucks her from behind), unprotected!sex, a small spank for oc, mentions of hickey’s, Jungkook has a filthy mouth, Jungkook himself. (I think that’s everything, please let me know if I miss something).

↠ A/n : hi there ; happy Sunday 🤍 although it is not officially winter, the start of December usually is for me! So, as we roll into a month of wintery nights and frosty mornings, I hope that boyfriend!jungkook can bring you comfort 🫶🏻. Your feedback will be appreciated & happy reading 🦢!

The pale light of an early winter afternoon filters through the frosted windows, casting a cool, silvery glow across your cozy apartment. The faint rustle of an icy breeze stirs the heavy curtains, their edges lifting slightly to allow the crisp, earthy scent of the season to seep in.

It is a rare, lazy Sunday afternoon—perfectly quiet except for the sounds coming from the kitchen, where your boyfriend is busying himself.

Jungkooks back is to you as he moves about with casual grace, preparing something simple yet comforting. You haven’t even asked him what he is cheffing up, knowing he would insist it is a surprise.

The sizzle of food in the pan mixes with the occasional clink of dishes, but the atmosphere itself is quiet, serene. The kind of peace that only comes when two people are so deeply in tune with each other that words are unnecessary.

And that is exactly what life with Jungkook is.

You watch him from the couch, your heart swelling with a mixture of affection and contentment. The past feels like a distant memory, the scars that once felt so raw now healed by the warmth of his love. He had been patient with you. Gentle and understanding. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word had woven you back together, piece by piece, until you felt whole again.

You stretch out with your blanket, trying to relax, but the stack of unmarked essays on the coffee table keep catching your eye. With a resigned sigh, you reach forward, fingertips just brushing through the papers when Jungkook’s voice floats from the kitchen.

“Yah, don’t even think about it,” he calls out, not even bothering to turn around.

You still, knowing you’ve been caught, and huf out a laugh. “How did you even know?”

“Because it’s Sunday and you always try to sneak in grading,” he taunts, still facing the stove as he flips something in a sizzling pan.

What is he even cooking?

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he finishes off before cracking open another window.

“I am resting. I just thought I’d get a head start…” you reply. Though the defense is weak even to your own ears.

“Mhm,” he immediately acknowledges your defence, clearly unconvinced. “What happened to the deal we made a couple of nights ago? Sundays are for us. No grading, no lesson plans, no sneaking off to answer emails.”

Speaking of emails…

“Yah! I know what you’re thinking.”

You roll your eyes playfully, leaning back and propping your chin on your hand. “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk…” Your brain racks for something to taunt Jungkook about.

“Mr. Timer-for-Everything,” you teass, “Bet you’ve already set three timers for each step, haven’t you?”

You could’ve done better than this, but it’ll do.

“Excuse me, but this is a very precise art. Unlike someone, I don’t wing it.” You could almost hear Jungkook’s smile as he stirred the contents of his pan.

You grin yourself. “So precise that you can catch me reaching for my work without looking?”

Jungkook sets the spatula down and finally turns around, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

Oh, his beautiful face.

“I’m good like that, babe.” He wipes his hands on a towel and walks over, stopping just in front of the couch. “Now, hand over the papers.”

You hold them closer to your chest in mock defiance, eyes twinkling. “Make me.”

Jungkook shakes his head, amusement dancing in his gaze, as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

The warmth of it had barely registered before he begins to pull away, but you quickly hook your arms around his neck, pulling him back down and deepening the kiss.

His mouth is warm and soft, and just as you feel him starting to reciprocate it with his usual energy, Jungkook pulls back with a reluctant laugh.

“Ah—wait, wait,” your boyfriend chuckles, breaking free as you frown. “My timer for the onions is about to go off.”

You snort as he scurries back to the stove, shaking your head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe you time every single step. It’s like cooking is a military operation for you.”

Jungkook flashes a smile over his bare shoulder. You almost feel guilty for wearing his t-shirt, but the breathtaking view of his back makes you feel otherwise.

“Hey, it’s a form of respect for the ingredients, you know? Plus, this way I know it’ll taste good.” He glances at the sizzling onions with a contented look, before turning back to you, more serious. “Just like you know taking a break makes you a better teacher, so… no more work today, okay?”

If only your school cared this much about your wellbeing.

You bits back a smile at his soft, affectionate tone. “Okay, okay. You win.”

You were truly so blessed to have Jungkook in your life. A million reminders will never be enough.

Satisfied, Jungkook sends a boyish grin your way before returning his attention to the stove, a sense of warmth filling the room as the smell of caramelising onions and spices floated through the air. As you watch him, you feel your heart swell a little.

Sundays like this weren’t just a break—they were a reminder of everything you shared. And maybe, just maybe, that was worth more than any head start on grading.

An hour had passed and you had become bored of endlessly scrolling through TikTok. Having tried reading a book, browsing through Netflix and messaging your friends, you decided to settle for your favourite pastime. Ogling your beloved boyfriend.

Jungkook must have sensed your gaze because he turned around, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What?” he asks, his voice a low, affectionate rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

“Just admiring the view,” you respond, grinning as you stretched lazily on the couch. The sunset lamplight caught in your hair, giving you an ethereal glow that makes his heart skip a beat.

He chuckles, before putting away the last dish and making his way over to you. Jungkook had insisted that he would wash the dishes today as well, not letting you lift a finger.

“I think that’s my line,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips. His kiss is slow, lingering, and filled with unspoken promises. Exactly what you needed before.

When he pulls back, his dark eyes search yours, as if he is still trying to comprehend how someone like you could love him so completely. You cup his soft face, thumb brushing lightly over the scar on his cheekbone. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know, baby,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “I love you more.”

The two of you stay like that for a moment, simply basking in each other’s presence, the world outside forgotten. Flirtatious gazes being exchanged, having an effect on both of you even years later.

Eventually, Jungkook slides onto the couch beside you, pulling you into his lap with a playful tug. You laugh, the sound bright and carefree, wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds you close.

You trace the tattoos on his arm with your fingertips, your touch feather-light. Each mark tells a story, and you loved how they were a part of him, just like you were now. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. “Desserts almost ready, but it can wait,” he mumbles, his voice thick with the lazy drawl of a man completely at ease.

Dessert. Yes, you heard that right. Jungkook had spoilt you so much. What had you done to deserve him?

You nod in agreement, turning your head just enough to catch his lips in another kiss. This one is deeper, more insistent, as if he was trying to convey everything he felt for you in that single moment. His hands move to your waist, holding you tight, and you feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, a comforting presence that grounds you.

The warmth of the fireplace fills the room, wrapping around you like a blanket, and the world outside faded even further. All that matters is the two of you, lost in the quiet rhythm of your breaths, the gentle hum of life moving around you.

Jungkook’s kisses grow more urgent, his hands wandering, exploring, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You feel a familiar warmth pool in your stomach, a spark igniting between you that has nothing to do with the setting sun. He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in soft, ragged bursts.

“Stay with me?” he asks, his voice a soft plea, his eyes coloured with emotion.

“Always,” you whisper back, your heart racing in time with his. You now feel the early winter chill spilling from the cracks in your window sill, but it doesn’t matter. With Jungkook, every chill and every breeze feels like a form of comfort.

He kisses you again, and this time there is no mistaking the intent behind it. His hands moved with a newfound urgency, tugging gently at your clothes, (his t-shirt) and you feel yourself responding in kind, your body melting against his. There’s something intoxicating about the way Jungkook touches you, so reverent, and so completely in love.

Jungkook’s fingers trace lazy patterns along your back as he pulled you closer, his gaze warm and heavy-lidded. You were both tangled up in each other, basking in the soft glow of fireplace. He lets out a sigh, his hand pausing.

“I really, really want to keep this going…” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “But I keep smelling the onions from earlier.”

You blink, caught off-guard, and feel your face flush. “Then… well, go shower,” you reply, stumbling over your words. “It’s fine! There’s, um… the whole evening left.”

“Whole evening left for what?” Jungkook flirts.

“Yah~”

Jungkook laughs, giving you a look, before his lips curve up in that signature teasing smile of his. “Or…” he begins, voice laced with suggestion, “you can just join me?”

Your face heats even more, and you bite your lip, looking away. “I—uh—I mean…”

He laughs, tipping his head to the side to catch your eye. “Come on, jagi. You don’t have to be shy with me,” he says softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Besides, I think you need a break from that whole evening plan you’re making in your head.”

You let out a breathy laugh, finally meeting his gaze. “Oh, so you know my plans now?”

Jungkook nods, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “I can read you like a book,” he mutters, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss just below your jaw. “And right now, that book is saying… maybe a shower with my hot and sexy boyfriend wouldn’t be so bad.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes at his goofiness, but you feel yourself melting under his gaze. His hand slips into yours as he sits up, pulling you with him to head upstairs.

“After all,” he says with a playful glint in his eye, “we do have the whole evening left.”

“Why is this still on?” Jungkook grunts, walking you backwards into the running shower as he practically rips off your t-shirt.

His t-shirt.

You gasp, the cold finally hitting you. Jungkook smirks seeing the shirt on the floor. He was in for a ride.

His hand tightly grips your jaw in place, noses touching as his hot, minty breath fans your face. His mouth captures yours in a fast, rhythmic movement as he undoes your red lace bra he chose himself earlier today.

All you had done was suggest there was a whole evening left. And now?

Now, you are watching your boyfriend hiss in delight as he feels the warm water run over his sore muscles. Jungkook throws his head back, groaning as he presses your naked self closer to his toned body.

He turns back to stare down at you, sending a wink your way before he dips his head into the junction of your head and shoulder, pressing slow and sensual kisses up your skin. You moan whilst craning your neck, craving more of his sinful mouth as his veiny hands wrap around you.

Jungkook unhurriedly drags his tongue up your pulse point, spontaneously biting down as you reel. He continues pressing gentle kisses until he reaches your ear.

“My baby’s enjoying this, isn’t she?” he whispers with his mellifluous voice, knowing how sensitive it makes you. It sends a shiver down your spine, eyes shutting tightly which only spurs Jungkook on further. “Guess I’ve found a better form of stress relief for you. I should’ve known.”

You purr when he takes your earlobe between his plush lips, suckling the soft flesh in his hot mouth. He doesn’t miss the chance to breathe into your ear again, knowing it’ll only arouse you further.

Jungkook grabs your ass, pulling you closer. His semi-hard cock rubs against your stomach, eliciting heat to run through your core. You reach for his hair, pulling at it as you yearn for more. He groans, backing away from your neck, hovering his lips against yours. He pecks you twice before taking both of your hands and pinning them against the steamy shower wall.

You glance up to your restrained hands, pouting at not being able to touch Jungkook. He notices your pursed lips, smiling to himself at your cuteness before letting them go and cascading his own down your body to your backside.

“Can we fuck?” he asks you shamelessly as he kneads your ass with his rough hands.

“You know it’s never a no from me, baby,” you tip-toe, whispering into his ear. About time you gave him the same energy back.

You run your fingers up and down his biceps with a knowing smirk.

“God, I missed this,” he rasps in his husky voice before reaching down to kiss you intensely. Jungkook touches you all over as he grinds his built, wet body against yours in the most seductive way. The scorch water cascades down his body making him look hotter than usual.

“We literally just had sex yesterday ,” you snort whilst pulling away from him.

Jungkook isn’t pleased with your comment and he shows this by diving for your neck and biting, making you moan indulgently in his hold. Your knees buckle, but his strong grip on your hips stops you from slipping.

“Fuck, babe,” you groan out as the sting spreads. You dig your nails into his toned arms, letting him know how good you feel. Jungkook removes his mouth from your pulse point, instead pressing soft kisses against your jawline, contradicting his previous ministrations.

“You always taste so good,” he hoarsely whispers, “I’ll never get enough of you,” he adds before he joins your lips again. Jungkook mouths at you sensually, kissing you with an insatiable force that leaves you breathless when you pull away.

You throw your head back, arching into him. Jungkook knows you need more and smirks at you falling into your usual state of submission around him.

“Wan’ more,” you whine. Jungkook reaches forward and presses kisses against the column of your throat. You drag your nails down his chest, evoking a playful growl from your boyfriend.

“More?” Jungkook teases you. You quickly nod, moaning his name, hoping it would provoke him to provide you with the relief you desperately need.

Jungkook brings his tattooed hand to cup your breast in his palm, eliciting another needy moan from you. He hisses pleasurably at your lewd sigh as you twitch in his hold.

“All mine to play with, huh?” he whispers in his low-pitched voice as he fondles your breast, dipping his head down to them to press open-mouthed kisses.

Jungkook decorates your skin with dark, flourishing hickies and you can only hope that they fade before you have to return to your responsibilities.

You feel Jungkook lightly smirk against you when you let out a sultry sound.

“My sensitive princess,” he says as his breath tickles your ear, leaving you to feel more aroused and dizzy.

You physically feel your pussy gush as your body buzzes due to the unmitigated affect your lover has on you.

“Kook, please,” you whine loudly, needing to feel him inside you before you combust untouched. You crave for this man as if you haven’t just been having sex from the moment he carried you inside your bathroom.

“Wanna turn around so I can fuck my princess how she deserves to be fucked?” he sighs out against your lips before joining them together for the umpteenth time that day.

You move your hands to cup Jungkook’s cheeks whilst you gaze at him with imploring eyes, showing him immediately that you’re extremely needy.

“You’re so fucking hot, babe,” he exhales wistfully, smothering his lips with yours again for an all too chaste kiss.

Jungkook tilts his head further to nibble on your plush lower lip, his skillful tongue.

“Want you in me, baby,” you prompt him urgently, “wan’ your big cock.”

Jungkook is quick to comply, hastily tightening his grip on your waist, “Go on then baby, turn around for me.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice, shifting so your face presses to the fogged wall of the shower. You glance over your shoulder fleetingly, admiring your boyfriend’s personable build.

His perfectly sculpted body that glistens underneath the water, jet black hair cut sexily short, beautifully tattooed arm and damn eyebrow piercing he got recently has you feeling giddy all over again, the same intoxicating effect from your college days together.

You can’t wait to marry this man.

Jungkook sweeps his wet hair back and you moan again, the heat of the shower water making him more delectable than before. The most erotic thoughts flood your mind and you grow more impatient, anticipating his next move.

He catches you staring at him and a mirthy smile graces his face as he grabs hold of his length, pumping himself a few times. His tip painfully glints a burning red and it leaves a heavy ache in your core, making you press your legs together to provide yourself with temporary relief.

Jungkook catches you off-guard, grabbing hold of your hips and yanking you back so your ass presses against him. You jump at his sudden attack, peeking behind only to see him wear a shit-eating grin on his face.

He drags the palm of his large hand down your smooth back, relishing in your silky smooth skin. “So fucking sexy,” he mutters, “and all mine.”

Reaching for your ass, he slaps it playfully, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

“Kook, please,” you groan out of frustration. He softly apologises before rubbing his hard-on against your ass, stepping closer to press the length of his girthy cock against your soaked folds. The sensation is strong enough to bring you back to reality.

Jungkook is going to fuck you and fuck you good.

Your legs part on their own as you arch your back, offering your ass to your husband shamelessly.

Jungkook curses at the salacious scene before him, pressing his cock further into you and somehow growing harder.

“Fucking incredible,” he rasps with his mellow voice, “ready?”

“Jus’ fuck me, Kook. You’ve got me all soaked.”

“Fuck, so hot,” Jungkook groans as he rubs the tip of his hard cock up and down your dripping pussy. He reaches your hole, teasing it as you moan for him to give you more.

“Gonna stretch you out so good, baby,” he mumbles more to himself, goading you with a gentle pressure that’s enough to rile you up.

“Quickly,” you urge him once again by arching more and wiggling your ass against him, tired of his unnecessary teasing.

Your boyfriend finally decides to push against you, sliding his cock past your folds, burying himself deep within you. The two of you groan at the lewd feeling.

Jungkook lets out a guttural moan as he watches the view of him entering your tight pussy. He hears you let out the most sinful sounds as you bask in the feeling of him filling you up whole.

“Jungkoook...”

“Fuck, the way you moan my name,” he breathes out as he buries himself to the hilt, hips rolling into you with the deepest of strokes.

Jungkook fits into you snuggly, grinding in you with small and precise thrusts. His fingers dig into your hips, his eyes fixated on the soft and plump swell of your ass.

He groans satisfyingly, watching his cock slip in and out of you easily, hard thighs rubbing against the back of yours in the most euphoric way.

“J-Jungkook, fuck, always so big.” You whimper, your entire body craving more of him.

“But my good girl takes it so well, doesn’t she?” he praises you, shutting his eyes underneath the hot, steamy water. Jungkook gasps, dipping his head into your shoulder and letting it rest there as he begins to smack his hips into yours relentlessly. He feels your walls flutter and tries hard to contain his load and not shoot it inside you just yet.

“Moree..” you plead, body shaking with utmost pleasure.

Jungkook complies, going deeper as he hits the best spots inside you. You press your temple against the tiled wall as he fucks you with languid, steady strokes. You feel his cock throb inside you, moaning his name again.

“Harder..” you mewl, compelling him to growl as he provides you with forceful thrusts, letting out the most animalistic of growls when he hears you cry out in delight. His tattooed arm reaches forward, veiny hand gripping your breast, pinching your hardened nipple as he presses sloppy kisses just behind your ear.

“Gonna fuck you so hard everyday,” Jungkook pants, thrusting with more fidelity as your walls pulse around him, “for your wellbeing of course,” he swears breathlessly.

You’re so caught up in being pleasured, you don’t even laugh at his joke.

He knows you are getting close and snakes his other hand down to your clit, rubbing vigorously as he drives you closer towards the edge, eliciting the most whiny moans out from you.

“Mmm, Koo’ you feel so, so good,” you cry out as he rams his cock further into your wet mess, groaning at the sensation. His delicious abuse on your engorged clit makes you hiss out in pleasure.

“Your wet pussy feels so good, baby,” Jungkook moans out as he continues his onslaught, pulling you back onto him.

“Holy shit, Jungkook,” you whine, knees buckling at the savouring drag of his appetising length.

“Right there, baby?”

“Oh God, yea..” you moan, nodding your head incessantly.

You mewl again, arousal spilling out of you, but Jungkook fucks it right back in. He pinches your nipple again whilst simultaneously teasing your clit. Jungkook sucks a hickey on your shoulder blade, cum aching his heavy balls as he pumps into your soaked walls.

You throw your head back onto his shoulder, stretching your hand to tug at the short tendrils of his hair. Jungkook knows exactly what you mean without you having said any words.

“Wann’ see you, baby,” you whimper, “need to feel you more..”

Jungkook groans at your neediness, pulling out of you fairly quickly, both of you wincing at the loss of warmth. He wastes no time in turning you around and lifting you up, deeply penetrating you again as he continues with the same, brisk pace as before. You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you so your foreheads touch.

“All mine,” he growls, “only mine.”

“Only yours, baby,” you purr, “all yours to fuck.”

Jungkook moans deeper as you begin to grind against him, clinging onto him firmly as you attempt to alleviate the burning pressure that shoots through your core. He knows you’re closer than ever, hearing your moans turn into gasps.

“Fill me up first, babe,” you manage to whimper out of yourself. You crave to feel full of his cum, squeezing against him to urge him more.

“Ah shit!” he grunts, orgasm hitting him as his hot cum shoots inside you, painting your insides white, shoving his face in your shoulder.

Jungkook sneaks his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him as he repeatedly pecks your pulse point. He is mindful of your sensitivity, allowing you to relax before he picks up his pace again.

“Wanna ruin you, my love.”

You’re at a loss of words, the only thing on your mind being that you’re once again being fucked full of Jungkook’s cum. He reaches down to place more hickies on your neck as his eyes remain glued to where you both connect. He watches your stomach clench and relax with pleasure, throbbing hard he fears he might shoot his second load into you before you can have your first release.

You sob and wail, clutching onto him further. Jungkook snakes his hand back down to your clit, rubbing against it as he tries to urge you to squirt around his cock.

“Close?” he asks you as he grunts, rubbing your clit harder and faster. You inform him yes through quick nods, eyebrows furrowing as the pleasure overtakes you completely.

“Come all over me, angel. All over my cock,” he demands with a growl against your open mouth, rutting against you in a frantic manner.

You clench down on him as you release with a mix of your boyfriend’s names and curse words. You ride out your climax with him and he puts less pressure on your clit as he watches you in your throes of pleasure.

His confidence shoots up, smirking at the way you scream his name over and over whilst squirting out both his and your mess.

“Fuck, that was incredible.” You’re breathless as you carefully slip out of his hold, leaning against his broad chest for support.

Jungkook pulls you into him, pressing soft kisses against the crown of your head as he praises you for how good you were for him. Your chest swells with pride, feeling shy as you curve further into his warm body.

He reaches to turn the shower off, dipping his head down to litter soft kisses over the hickies he made. You pull him back to face you with his hair and he nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

You feel him still slightly hard against your stomach and chuckle to yourself.

“Wanna fuck me again, baby?” you ask him with suggestive eyes, “Bedroom though, I can’t stand here any longer.”

Jungkook gulps, nodding his head fervently.

“Fuck, you’re in for it, Mrs. Jeon,” is all that leaves his mouth. You become shy as you hear you favourite nickname.

Jungkook flashes you his signature smirk before abruptly lifting you and taking you towards your shared bedroom, whispering all he’s going to do to you.

The things you do before Sunday ends.

Thank you for reading 🦢! Please do leave me some feedback; it motivates me to write 🫶🏻. Have a lovely week ahead. Sundays can be so difficult for me, so I hope this makes you feel better if you also get the Sunday scaries :)

[luminiamore]

soul

basketball player ony x spiritual reader headcanons

୨୧ he absolutely has to keep one of the crystals you gave him with him. at all times. if he ever realizes he’s forgotten it—whether it’s on the way to practice or heading out for a big game—he’ll drop everything. no matter how tight the schedule is, he’ll make his entire team wait while he runs back to get it.

୨୧ he knows how sensitive and drained you get when you're surrounded by so many energies at once, and he could never put you in that position. so, even though he would love to have you at every game, he never allows you to come. instead, he’s making sure you're waiting for him in the locker room after.

୨୧ he takes the time to lock the door, ensuring that no one can hear anything, especially the sweetest cries you make when he's celebrating a big win. and when the rivalry match doesn't end in his favor-he's just as committed to making you feel his frustration. he’d end up carrying you to his car when he feels like he’s thoroughly dumped his anger past your warm sticky walls, your legs becoming jello.

୨୧ he was never the type to open up about his feelings, let alone imagine a future with anyone. seeing how dedicated you are to growing and evolving as a person, something shifted in him. he respected you deeply, more than he ever thought possible. for you, he started putting in the work—learning how to be more vulnerable, more present, and more open.

୨୧ you both became teachers to each other. he’d never admit it out loud, but you were slowly unraveling parts of him he didn’t even know were there. and just as much, he pushed you to continue evolving, helping you through your own challenges with the same dedication he put into his training.

୨୧ you two rarely argue. or ever really stay upset at each other. if he does something to make you upset you let him know rather than playing mind games, vice versa. ony would rather die than let you go to sleep upset at him. you will always talk it out. and get your pussy sucked clean after.

୨୧ he said “i love you” first, and while he tried to keep his cool and act like it was no big deal— on the inside, he was terrified. what if she don’t say it back? the simple thought almost made him second guess his decision. you did, of course.

୨୧ call him toxic, but unfortunately for you—breaking up is not an option. deep down, he knows you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. he might make mistakes but he’s quick to learn from them, careful not to make them again. if you ever hinted at leaving, he’d beg on his knees, desperate to change your mind. his pride would be forgotten in a second.

୨୧ he’s the kind of man who starts taking care of himself because he knows that if he wants to be the best partner, he has to be the best version of himself too. he hits the gym regularly to clear his head, makes sure he’s eating right to stay energized, and starts working on his mental health—because you deserve someone who is just as mentally strong as you are.

୨୧ safe to say, you’re spoiled—but in the best way possible. he takes you to the crystal shop, and it’s like your personal shopping spree every time. he knows exactly what you need, picking out the most beautiful, rare crystals for your collection.

୨୧ he’s all in when it comes to your little quirks, even if it means spending hours at a thrift store. he’ll go with you, sifting through racks, helping you find those one-of-a-kind items you’re obsessed with. and when you find something perfect, he doesn’t hesitate. he’s dropping a bag, not because he has to, but because he wants you to feel special, like you deserve the best.

୨୧ all in all, he loves you. and it’s more than just the surface-level affection—it’s deep, real, and unwavering. he’s in love with you. every part of you. from the way you laugh to the way you challenge him to grow. you’re his lifeline, the one person who makes everything make sense.

[sweetieviktor]

viktor x librarian! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios) part 2

summary: even before your relationship, heimerdinger already knew you and viktor liked each other. now, he wants to help to bring you two together.

content warning: fluff!! and a bit of language towards the end :D (it was written with s1 viktor in mind!)

author notes: im here again with the viktor and librarian! reader hcs, but it was so cute and i couldn't turn down the anon who sended me the request!! i really liked to write this (i mean.... you can see how much i liked, its pretty big lol) and i hope you like it too! (i recommend you read the part 1 before this, bcs you wont might understand some stuff since its on the first. well, here's the link for part 1!)

» being a librarian near piltover’s academy means that every time a student needed some book or document you might have, they would come to you. even professors.

you’ve seen the doors opening, but you didn’t see anyone standing there. you thought that maybe it was the wind, but soon you heard a voice coming from behind the reception desk. “hey, down there!” looking down, you recognized the owner of the voice, professor cecil b. heimerdinger.

“oh, i’m sorry, didn’t see you in there!’’, you rubbed the back of your neck, nervous, afraid considering that you had one of the most important people of piltover inside the library you work in. “well, how could i help you?”, you offered him a polite smile and he offered one of his, fur twitching up around the corners of his mouth.

“oh, you see, maybe you do have some old stuff, like-”

» after this, whenever he needed something, he would find himself already walking to your library. he often recommended the establishment for his students and pupils, making it a spot for study dates and scientific discussions. now, it was even harder to take breaks, the place was more crowded than it ever was. oh, you just wanted to hear what heimerdinger was wanting to say, about what had been happening at the academy or, even better, at the council, but, obviously, only the non-confidential stuff.

when your lunch break hit, you were finally able to come meet the professor, a normal occurrence every week. you could see his small figure waving and smiling, seated and already waiting for you at the cafeteria he likes. “hi, friend! i’ve ordered the usual for us,” he said while adjusting himself on his seat, “my assistant and one of my students are working together on... something. it's revolutionary, i could say, but very dangerous. i’ve already advertised them about it but they insist on doing it anyway,” he sighed, tidying the ends of his furry moustache, “and my assistant, specifically, wants to know if you have some old materials that could possibly help them.”

“oh, of course! it’s always a pleasure to help piltover’s geniuses.”

» next week, he showed up with the said assistant, viktor, and it was love at first sight. he was gorgeous and intelligent too. oh, dear janna, he was the perfect kind of guy. you eyes didn't catch how he was less confident than how normally he is, or the way he smiled at you, of course you didn’t, it was the first time you’ve met each other, but professor knew you both well enough to know something was going on. and he was correct when he said viktor would come in there often, because, indeed, he did. way too often for someone who was meant to be just a customer.

» sometimes, heimerdinger would stay in the library, pretending to read some book, only to observe how you and viktor interacted around one another. it was crystal clear how you liked each other, but were rather afraid to confess your feelings, so the yordle made it his personal mission to help you two to get together.

» and when you first sorted and stored some books for viktor based on what he was reading these past days, it was when it hit him that he might be liking you. and later, once he reached the academy again, jayce and heimerdinger already were waiting for him in the lab, both of them noticing how tense he was as soon as he opened the door.

“viktor, my boy, what happened?” the yordle said, making up space on the couch so his assistant could sit by his side. which he did, leaving the books on the table and his cane near himself, often rotating it around its own axis, just so he could occupy his mind with something that wasn't you.

“it's nothing, professor,” but he knew viktor was lying. the way he played with his cane, or how he wasn't looking at their eyes, it all made him seem more and more suspicious.

jayce came closer, sitting at the edge of his rotating chair, touching viktor's shoulder lightly, “hey, if something is happening, you can count on us,” his eyes full of empathy, looking at his friend, “whatever it may be.”

soon, it clicked for heimerdinger. his assistant just came back from the library, he had books on his hands and was visibly shaken. of course! how could he forget about the librarian? “i might have a theory why he is like this, jayce,” he chuckled, leaving viktor flustered and jayce confused. he met jayce's curious gaze, his own smile bringing a smirk to his pupil's face.

“and what would be that theory?”, jayce asked, thinking about all the possibilities of what had happened to get viktor like that.

“he is in love, boy.”

jayce smirk grew to a smile, then this smile turned itself into a full laugh, shaking his whole body, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to recompose himself. “i can't believe it!”, he was trying to hold his laugh, while viktor looked at him, completely serious.

“then don't,” viktor said, giving his friend a death stare.

jayce took a deep breath, never wanting to see this look again on viktor's face, adjusting his posture and continuing, “tell me, who is the lucky one?”

“i don't want to say it.”

“please?”

“fine! ehhh... do you remember the libra-”

“HA! I KNEW IT WAS THEM!”, jayce shouted, throwing his hands in the air, celebrating.

» from this day on, jayce and heimerdinger often gave viktor advices on how to win over your heart (because they had a lot of love experiences before, obviously). one day, heimerdinger suggested for him to bring over some coffee and pastries for you while you were working, he even recommended the ones he knew you liked, the usual you ordered in the cafeteria on your lunch breaks with him.

» so your not-a-date happened. people were talking loudly on the streets, but not a single client in. the natural light coming from across the windows giving the whole place even more of a cozy feeling, the light breeze was getting colder but the coffee he brought for you was keeping you warm. there was soft music playing in the background – most clients liked it since it helped them to focus, or so they said –, but you couldn't concentrate since he was looking at you, stealing glances from in-between pages, admiring you while you pretended to read, just like him. little did he know your heart was already on his hands.

» after a particular day, where you finally confessed to one another, exchanging your firsts “i love you's”, you both started to be spotted together a lot, usually at library or, like now, at piltover’s academy, bringing your boyfriend resources useful for him and for jayce too.

you knocked on the lab's door, receiving an answer from the other side, a muffled “come in” from someone you assumed was jayce. you then opened the said door, greeting jayce quickly while you walked towards a desk, leaving everything upon it.

heimerdinger was near viktor's workbench, helping him solve an equation, both totally focused on their tasks. when the tiny creature noticed you, he immediately came to you, “oh, friend, you're here! what brought you in there?”

“i've invited them,” viktor said, putting his goggles over his forehead, reaching for his cane and standing up, leaning on it. “i wished my, ehhh, partner knew my work place. besides, they also got me the books we needed, right?”, you nodded your head, gesturing to the desk where the books were placed on.

heimerdinger looked at them, then to viktor, to you and back at him, “oh... so, now you're partners?”, heimerdinger raised his brows, tilting his head to the side, “well, i knew it would happen sometime. i mean, ever since i’ve seen you both together, i knew you would be together,” he smiled, his fur turning up, “oh, friend, one day, me and jayce realized why he was acting so weird around us, just after one of his visits to the library, it was because-”, heimerdinger was talking excitedly, gesturing with big motions until viktor cut him.

“oh, please, professor. stop it,” viktor said, walking up to you and standing by your side. redness was spreading over his cheeks and ears, “there's no need to share any of this.”

“but you were-”

“professor,” you called, looking at him with apologetic eyes, “sorry to interrupt you but my break is going to an end in-”, you looked at the lab's clock, “fifteen minutes, i must go now.” you've met heimerdinger and jayce with a goodbye, then, getting closer to viktor, tidying his hair and adjusting his goggles over it so it won't fall over his golden eyes again, “see you later, vik. i would like to hear about any stories you might want to tell me,” you kissed his cheek, happy on how he blushed even more after the little display of affection, walking away and leaving the lab.

“you are in love!”, jayce said in between a laugh, pointing towards viktor.

“fuck you.”

“language, boy!”

[heterochromicnachos]

Bitch, excuse me?

Trans coded means he can be SEEN as trans, but isn’t in canon. Just like characters who are Autistic-coded, but aren’t actually autistic in canon. Papyrus is an example of this, unless I missed a source from Toby fox. As an autistic person, papyrus is ABSOLUTELY autistic in my eyes, and I fully support the headcanon.

The whole thing about wanting to be a different identity is what, as far as I’m aware, is the root of transgender ideology (I apologize to my trans friends if I offended you with this statement, I’m just peeved).

The whole thing of being transgender is wanting a new identity. Being something different, what you weren’t born as, but what you WANT to be. And that’s what cross isn’t doing. Just because his reasoning (not wanting to be seen as some kind of breed of dog) doesn’t fit your perspective, that doesn’t mean you get to claim “OH JAEL IS A MORON HOW DARE SHE TRY TO BRING REPRESENTATION INTO HER SERIES OH MY GOD HOW HORRIBLE”

Also, just because you don’t agree doesn’t mean Jael’s word is correct. She just had a massive issue with her mental health because of people like you shitting on her work.

Cross is an ALLEGORY for trans folk, he is not meant to be a trans character. Jael never stated he was trans, cross never transitioned. Let me lay this out for your real quick with a Venn diagram.

While the main thing you would think of when you think of a transgender person (The change of gender and pronouns) doesn’t happen for cross, the main identity things a trans person would go though remain the same. (Misgendering, transphobia, trying to get others to accept them as who they want to be.)

Cross experiences this transphobia allegory when XPapyrus continuously Deadnames him as “Sans”. Cross tries to stay calm, but as the situation gets worse, he lashes out as one would expect one to do when being treated poorly. He yells at his brother that his name is cross, not sans. It will never again be sans, he will ALWAYS be cross.

Cross may not be transgender in the traditional, textbook sense, but his actions and portrayals give him a similar experience for many trans people to relate to. Many trans people experience transphobia, deadnaming, misgendering, and cross is someone (however fictional) for them to relate to and to compare their experiences to.

Just because cross isn’t trans doesn’t mean he isn’t representation. Papyrus isn’t autistic, yet we say he;s representation for autism, don’t we? It’s likely Jael never intended for cross to be transgender representation, hence why she says “Trans-coded”. A -coded character means they are NOT actually that trait, but are indirectly portrayed as displaying that trait. But, seeing how cross’ experiences affected her fanbase, Jael realized she had made cross into a character that could be easily seen as trans, and wanted to let her fanbase know they’re valid and loved.

The trans youth in The United States are currently in a tough, dangerous spot. With Trump’s plans to make the lives for trans folk more dangerous and significantly harder, there’s going to be a rise in suicides among trans kids. The highest number of suicides in any group is from transgender people, and they need support just as much as any person going through a hard time does. And what better way to give support than to tell the people struggling they’re valid and that their representation matters?

I really don’t care if you don’t believe Jael’s words, but you going to this length to go on a tangent about how cross isn’t trans-coded that devolves into more slander against Jael for things she fully intended to be good is a pathetic excuse of a debunk. Just say you don’t agree and keep it to yourself, there’s no reason to complain and call Jael “weird�� and “gross”. People like you who said these things are who almost caused underverse to be canceled in the first place.

TLDR: Yes, yes he is transcoded. Coded means not official/canon, but can absolutely be seen that way! Cross experiences things in underverse that many trans people do, and just because his reasoning for changing his name is different doesn’t mean he’s any less of representation than papyrus is for autistic people.

[lostintransist]

Listen all I gotta say is price and Johnny are the type to bear hug you during sex. I mean like fully encompassing your whole body, holding you as close as possible with their strong ass grip while they’re balls deep in you. That’s all, thank you and have a great day :)

Oooh anon I like the way you think. Let me posit a few ideas for you. Because brevity is NOT a skill I possess all my thoughts are below the fold.

MDNI 18+, Female reader (because it fits the narrative I want to write today)

CW: Pap smears and doctors appointments mentioned, sex (obviously), mentions of lubrication and anatomy lessons (because if I have to read one more 'it's so tight' I am going to start fight club in your comments. If the vagina is 'tight' it isn't aroused! Vaginas are small when not being used for pleasure or producing a human.)

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny bear hugs you, but not frequently. The first time it happened he had been hounding you all day for some action. You put him off with a smile and wore your prettiest day dress out for errands. "I can't miss my appointment today Johnny, and if I leave now I can get some shopping done."

He goes with you obviously because he hasn't seen you in weeks because of his job and spending time with you even at an appointment is better than missing you from home.

You didn't mention and he failed to ask what kind of appointment you had. Imgagine his delight shock to see you strip off your dress with absolutely nothing underneath because you have a yearly physical.

Let's not even argue the point that Johnny is horrified to see how a pap smear goes and apologizes the rest of the day that you have to do that as a part of having him as a newer partner. [I hate pap smears so much...Like I want to fist fight god for making them a thing that needs to happen.]

It takes him a couple hours to get over the sick feeling in his stomach. You had been mid conversation when the provider reached up and flipped down the sheet covering your breasts. They pressed and prodded all without either of you acknowleding what was happening. Was that normal? (It absolutely is.)

When you do finally let him convince (Lets not lie you also wanted this all day) you to bed end up riding him as he orgasms. His arms snake out and pull you to his chest, the powerful bands of his muscles holding you tight to his chest as he shudders below you. He is overwhelmed and in awe of the things you have to do to keep your body healthy and how part of those things are his fault.

It does prevent you from coming like you wanted but Johnny, once he can see again, takes care of you before settling you both in a bath.

Captain John Price

This man is so used to being in charge that the first time he sinks home into you he is snaking his arms around you to bear hug you to his chest.

"If you move even a bit I am going to explode inside you like a fourteen year old boy and his first time touching a lover," he growls into your shoulder.

He didn't need to use lube on the regular but after you explained he quickly agreed.

"John you could do hours of foreplay and I would still not produce enough fluid to make this an enjoyable experiance for either of us." You smile uncomfortably as his eyebrows tuck downward in confusion. With a shrug you continue, "My body does all the other normal things."

"Normal things like what?" Ah man, he did it now. Education on bodies that had vaginas would always get you on a rant. "So you know how in media the common thing to say about a vagina when inserting a penis is 'oh it's so tight' because it is supposed to feel good for a man?"

John leans back in his chair, contemplation exchanged for his look of confusion. "Yes, go on."

"Okay. When a penis gets erect it grows in size and shape typically, so does a vagina. An unaroused vagina is only about 2 inches in length but when aroused it grows to on average about 4. The rush of blood down there allows it to become more elastic and accomodate many shapes and sizes."

At John's nod you continue, because you know that this can be an uncomfortable topic but you refused to go to bed with a man who didn't care enough to understand how your body works.

"Typically with arousal the vagina creates a lot of fluid to help with insertion." "Isn't that what precum is about too?" Biting your lip you decide if you are going to ruin his day. "No. What we call precum is a cleaning fluid because pee and baby batter use the same tubing in a penis."

"Oh." He looks mildy uncomfortable with this information. Well in for a penny in for a pound. "All that to say, I would love to have sex with you but we will need to use lube because my body doesn't produce enough fluid and the fluid you make isn't really what I will need."

John thought about that conversation as he sank home, the plushness of your thighs bracketing his hips. Shoving one arm behind your neck and the other under your back as you lay under him he focuses on breathing.

Lord only knows that an anatomy lesson from you would be what nearly sends him over the edge. When you start twitching under him he holds you tighter, a slight wheeze escaping your chest.

"Dove I am getting older and don't recover like I used to, give me another ten seconds and then I will fuck you like I'm trying to touch your brain."

That delightful little sentence had you clenching around him, but your hips stopped shifting. Damn, he might need to ask his doctor for some little blue pills because one round a night with you might not be enough.

I'm so totally normal about these fictional characters...yep.. totally normal.

[theagstd]

One Night Stand ; 41

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ Chapter forty one ; wc | 9.5k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

Your mother is an angel; she's not just a mother. She's everything to you, and you're more than just her world—you're her entire universe. If there's a word or phrase better than that to express how much you mean to her,

she would use it. She's raised you in her own special way, where love, kindness, and security thrived in her care. She has a unique way of being strict, yet her warmth and kindness always shine through.

She truly is the best person you could ever have in your life, the best mother anyone could ask for. Her endless gossip might get on your nerves, but you tolerate it because she once patiently listened to all your teenage dramas in high school—now it's your turn to return the favor. You wouldn't call it a favor; you'll say it's a duty now, which at the end of the day, you like.

You wouldn't say that to her, though—she'll be over the moon about it. But it's not about all that right now, because she's standing in front of you, her eyes wide like saucers and lips slightly parted, struggling to speak but unable to, and the sight leaves you breathless. Because your grip on Jungkook's

hands has tightened so much, he's beginning to wonder if his bones might break. You want to greet her, hug her, but as you lift your foot to step forward, your mother speaks, "What the hell?!" Her voice rings out, loud and full of shock. Both of you flinch at the sudden outburst, and you instinctively take a step back, startled by her reaction. The tears pour down her face, you watch her, and burst out in tears too.

"M-mom—" "What the hell is this—" she murmurs and covers your mouth with her trembling palms. "I-I can expla—" "There's no need for explanation! I see it all!" She speaks, her tone laced with embarrassment over her daughter. You can't bring yourself to meet her eyes, shame washing over you for letting her down.

Yet deep inside, you know you love your child unconditionally—nothing will ever make you feel ashamed of that. This feeling only exists because of your mother's judgment, not your own heart. Her eyes move from your bump to the man beside you, her lips parting even more as the minutes pass. You want to hide from her and everyone else, from the world.

Jungkook beside you isn't doing anything at all, and that's because he's afraid of what would happen if he speaks. The situation isn't calling for him, so he'd rather keep quiet than make things worse. Your lips tremble as you try to hold back your sobs and tears; your mother can't collect herself, so she zones out as she tries to think about it. Jungkook shifts uneasily,

aware of how long the two of you have been lingering at the doorway, but he can't bring himself to say anything. Relief and anxiety churn inside him as your father appears, walking toward you both. "Who's at the door, darling?" he murmurs, his voice steady as he steps closer and pushes the door open wider. You freeze in place, your hand slipping from Jungkook's grasp without thinking.

Your father's gaze locks on you, his expression unreadable as he scans you, then shifts to the boy beside you. He says nothing. The silence is suffocating, heavy enough to make your heart race. A pit forms in your stomach as regret seeps in—you wish you hadn't come back home. Your sobs get uncontrollable, and your cries get loud and heavier than they were.

You've never cried this hard; the last time you did was when you found out about your pregnancy—never again. "D-dad—" You're gasping for air, crying so hard it feels like you might break. Jungkook's starting to panic, his worry mixing with anger. Why the hell are your parents just standing there, letting this happen at the doorway, when you're a total mess—and pregnant?

His jaw tightens, grabbing your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he turns to face you. "Hey... hey," he whispers, trying to pull you back from whatever's breaking you. His voice is soft but shaky, desperate to calm you down, because this isn't just crying—it's something deeper, and it's killing him to see you like this, and he can't take it anymore.

Your parents watch the scene unfold, their frowns deepening as they notice the stranger holding their daughter. "Y/N, shhh," Jungkook whispers, his voice soft but strained. He's desperate to calm you down, his worry growing with every shaky breath you take.

You're such a mess, and he's terrified this much crying might make you sick. You cling to his hand tightly, trying to steady yourself as you gather the courage to speak. But before you can, your father cuts in.

"Come inside," he orders, his tone sharp. Jungkook stiffens, startled by the sudden authority in his voice, and you flinch. You glance at your father as he pulls the door open wider and steps inside. That tone—it's so unlike him. He's never spoken to you like that before, and it only makes the tears flow harder.

If Jungkook had a choice, he wouldn't step inside. It's not about his pride—it's about you. Sure, you're their daughter, and he gets that they're shocked and struggling to process everything. But making you stand at the doorway for over twenty minutes, crying your heart out while nosy neighbors peek from behind curtains? That's where his patience runs out.

The sight of you breaking down like this, with no one stepping in to help, fuels nothing but anger in him. You deserve better—pregnant, vulnerable, and hurting—and the fact that they can't see that makes his chest tighten with frustration. He gets it—it's not an easy situation. This isn't some casual introduction of your boyfriend. You're pregnant, unmarried,

and with a man they know nothing about. Of course, it's hard for them to take in—it's overwhelming, even. But still. At the very least, they could take you inside first. Let him stay out; he doesn't care about that. What matters is you—giving you a seat, letting you breathe. Watching you cry like this, standing in full view for the world to see, feels unbearably wrong, and it only adds to the weight in his chest. Jungkook holds your arms as he helps you walk inside slowly.

He focuses on your feet and sobbing, all he wants is to make you sit down on a couch. That will ease him. Your father sits on his maroon armchair, which looked worn out, like it's been used for the past 15 years. You sit on the larger couch as Jungkook rubs his hand on your hair, looking at your face with a frown.

"Stay here, I'll take our luggage inside, mm?" he whispers to you, not wanting your parents to hear his voice. You tug at your nose and nod at his words, unsure of what else to do. He casts a brief glance at your mother, who glares at him as though he's unwelcome in her home. Without a word, he carries the luggage inside, setting it against the wall.

Yours, he moves closer to the stairs, a quiet act of care. His own, he leaves untouched, off to the side. It's clear he has no intention of staying the night—or perhaps he knows better, judging by the sharp chill of your parents' silent judgment. He walks back to stand beside you, not wanting to take a seat because it's obvious that no one wants him here.

Your mother sits in front of you. She doesn't speak a word as she tries to collect her thoughts first. Your father, on the other hand, does not seem very angry as your mother does; he looks disappointed. "Can you explain this to me?" your father speaks up as he communicates with his eyes, moving from your bump to the man beside you. You gulp, nodding.

You wipe off the tears that run down your cheek and pull your nose. "I w-will!" You sit up straighter, trying to claw back the confidence you'd built over the past few weeks—the same confidence that crumbled the second your mom opened the door. Jungkook looks like he wants to reach out, maybe grab your arm to let you know he's there, but he doesn't.

Not with the way your parents are glaring at him like he's the worst decision you've ever made. You take a moment, your eyes darting around as you try to gather your thoughts, piecing together words that refuse to come out as sentences. "I..." you start, your voice faltering, stammering under the weight of the truth. How do you explain something so unreal?

That the man standing beside you was once a stranger, someone you hooked up with, only to discover later he was your boss. That the pregnancy you never planned became a mistake you embraced wholeheartedly. And now, here you are—hopelessly in love with both him and the life you're creating together.

It would sound completely like you've taken it out from a film, but it's the raw truth, and you just can't seem to find a way to explain it to them. Jungkook sees the struggle; your parents see it too, and it only makes them fear for what they must hear next.

"So I..." This time, Jungkook doesn't wait; he places his palm on your shoulder so he can speak this out. He doesn't want to put the whole burden on you when he was an equal part of this.

"Please don't take it out on her. This... this whole thing was a mess, and if anyone's at fault, it's me. More than her," he says quietly, his voice steady despite the weight of your parents' piercing gazes. You stay silent, your words stuck in your throat.

The way he steps in, taking the blame for something that wasn't entirely his fault, twists something deep inside you. He's shouldering everything, trying to protect you, and it makes your heart ache in ways you can't put into words.

"No... don't do this, Jungkook," you murmur, and he looks down at you with a frown. You wipe your tears away, not wanting to cry anymore. You're determined to lay everything out for them, no matter how messy or awkward it gets. They deserve to know the full story—every detail, no sugarcoating, no covering things up.

You can't stand the idea of them hating Jungkook, and more than anything, you want them to accept the baby you created together. This little life means everything to you, and you need them to see that too.

"You don't have to take the blame on yourself," you say and pull his hand to sit beside you. You want him next to you and seated. He doesn't have to stand behind you like he doesn't belong here; he's yours and belongs wherever you are. He sits, with a fair distance between you two.

"This was all unplanned, and I promise you that it all began as a mistake," you start. You're aware of your parents' decency and how they don't interrupt. You're thankful that they are respectable and allow others to keep their opinions before they speak. They listen, and you know that they will hear you out no matter how messy and awkward this situation and story is. You look at Jungkook, who gazes at your bump with his eyebrows crossed together.

"We weren't together until a few months ago, and I know that everything is very upsetting and difficult to take in, but we both are taking our responsibility and... and we are trying to do as much as we can. I just want you and Dad to support me in this." You blurt it all out in one breath, squeezing your eyes shut as if bracing for the storm of their reactions. Jungkook shifts uncomfortably beside you, awkward under the spotlight that feels far too bright, his every instinct screaming at him to escape.

Your father lets out a heavy sigh, his gaze drifting away as he tries to process everything you've just dropped on him. Meanwhile, your mother sits stiffly, her anger still palpable, though she holds back from yelling. Her eyes, unblinking, fall to your bump, and something softens—though only slightly. She's clearly torn, her thoughts racing as she takes in the sight of you,

undeniably pregnant, and wonders how everything came to this. You look more beautiful than you ever have, but how can she admire you when you've so clearly hidden everything from her? She can't believe how her own daughter could have kept something so important, so life-changing, hidden for so long.

The realization hits her like a cold wave, and for a moment, she's at a loss for words. The hurt is there, buried beneath her frustration, but it's not just anger—it's disbelief. How could you have kept this from her? From both of them?

Your mother finally breaks the silence, her voice quieter than you expected, yet still sharp with emotion. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?" she asks, her eyes narrowing in both confusion and hurt. "This... this is a huge deal, and you've kept us in the dark all this time?" Jungkook, still awkward and tense beside you, looks like he wants to say something,

but he holds back. It's clear he doesn't know what to do, how to help, or how to ease the tension that's growing thicker with every passing second. You feel the weight of your mother's gaze, the expectation for answers. You want to explain, to tell her why you waited, but the words are stuck, caught between the truth and the fear of losing her approval.

"Why, Y/N?" Her voice trails as she asks you again. You hurt her so deeply that you can hear it. You want to cry all over again, but now's the time to talk and clear everything up.

"I... I was scared," you mumble under your breath, and you hear your father chuckle sarcastically, which makes Jungkook turn his head to him in confusion.

"Scared?" he repeats what you said. "I thought we raised you to tell us every. single. thing about your life. The silly, the happy, the worrying, the anger—and even the crazy things you've faced," your father says, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and hurt. His words slice through the tension in the room, a reminder of the trust and openness he believed you'd always share with both your parents.

Your mother's eyes are searching yours, waiting for some kind of explanation, some reassurance that this was just a mistake, a misstep on your part. But you know there's no easy way to make things right. You look down at your bump, feeling ashamed of hiding this big deal from your own parents.

Jungkook is taking notes on how each of your parents speaks. Your father speaks warmly, even if his words are limited and cold for the moment. He senses that he's still being delicate with it for you. He's also observed how your father is a quiet man who takes his time to give a reaction, in comparison to your mother, who has outbursts from time to time.

"We did not expect this from you, Y/N," your mother says as she looks at you with red eyes and trembling lips. It stings you in each layer of your skin and heart because you're well aware of this. You did not expect this from yourself either, and although you grew out of it with time, it resurfaces now that your mother says it.

"Enough, honey," your old man stops her from saying anything more, and Jungkook relaxes his tightened jaw when he hears it. He's glad that your dad spoke up because now's not the time to throw any more taunts. What's done has already been done, and putting you down is not going to magically make it all disappear.

"But—"

"They're tired. Let them rest. We can talk about this tomorrow," he says and stands up from his armchair. Jungkook does not know what to do, so he sits still.

"Have you both had dinner?" he asks, and you nod. You're not very hungry since you had your meal on the flight along with snacks that Jungkook got for you. The man beside you nods too, so your father hums.

"You can go to your bedroom, Y/N." You get on your feet with the help of Jungkook. You don't want to leave the room without completely solving everything, but you also can't take it anymore. You're in desperate need of rest, and you're not ready for a lengthy conversation yet.

Jungkook somehow feels something isn't right when he leads you to the stairs as you guide him up to your old bedroom. And he guessed it when your father says, "You can't stay with her," he announces, and you both stop in your tracks and look at him. You're frowning, and the guy next to you is biting his lower lip like he saw this coming.

"He can use the guest room, downstairs," your dad says, and Jungkook just nods. You don't say anything else. Honestly, with all the drama, you're just glad he gets to stay at your place, especially since your parents were so against him.

You lead him to your bedroom, and he helps you sit on your bed, removing the layers of coats that you put on. No words leave your lips, nor does Jungkook's, but surely the awkwardness floats in the air, and all you want to do right now is go back home and sleep in his arms. This doesn't feel like home, mostly because of the negativity that lies around. You hope it all clears when the day arrives. You pray for it, but right now, you both must accept this.

"Can you help me use the washroom?" you ask, and he stills at your question. He feels very aware of everything, like your parents are watching the two of you through the walls. You seem to figure it out and shake your head. "They might see us—"

"They won't... please..." you whisper, and he agrees. It's not that he does not want to help you, lord no. He'll do anything for you, but he's also developed a fear toward your parents with whatever happened a while ago. He helps to remove your socks and shoes, then leads you out of the room because your old bedroom does not have an attached washroom. He walks you and sees your father standing by the corridor, giving him a side-eye, which makes Jungkook gulp.

"I'll stay right here. Let me know when you're done," he says to you as he shuts the door and leans against it, not sparing a glance at the surrounding because he can see the old man by the corner of his eye.

You feel such relief after finally emptying your bladder. The tension from holding it in for so long is gone, leaving you feeling completely free.

"I'm done!" you yell as he nods and gives a tight smile when he meets your father's eyes. Jungkook walks you to your room and puts away all your coats. You both are quiet as he brings up your suitcase and places it on the couch so it's easier for you to reach your clothes. You notice how he looks irritated, his eyebrows creased, and his jaw tightened as he picks a pair of PJs for you to dress for the night.

You look at him curiously, wanting him to speak. You tilt your head and raise your eyebrows to signal him. He glances at you, then goes back to the clothes.

"Say something..." you whisper, and he sighs. You don't like his silence, and even though the matter is not solved yet, both your parents are mad at you, you don't want him to be angry at you either.

"Jungkook... are you mad at me?" you mumble under your breath, and he breathes deeply as he drops his hand and looks down. He doesn't want to tell you that he's angry and scared.

"I'm not, darling."

"Then why a—"

"I want to see you downstairs, not in her bedroom," your mother says as she stands by your door with her arms crossed. Jungkook clenches his jaw as he places your clothes on the bed and stomps out of your room without sparing a glance. You feel a twinge in your heart; you didn't want him to leave just like that. He didn't even say good night. You look up at your mother, then sigh.

"Mom—"

"I don't want to hear anything from you," she says as she steps inside, coming to a stop in front of you. Her arms remain firmly crossed over her chest as she fixes you with a stern gaze. You avoid her eyes, your attention wandering around the room instead.

She studies your face intently, taking in the soft fullness of your cheeks and the radiant glow that seems new and unfamiliar. You look so beautiful—pregnancy suits you in a way she never expected. You notice her staring at you, which makes you feel uncomfortable, but you don't address it.

"We will talk tomorrow. Get some rest now," she speaks, and you hum as she leaves the room after placing a bottle of water on your desk.

You sigh when the door closes. You look around your room and notice how everything is just as it was when you left. Nothing has changed, except for you. You feel lonely here, unlike before. You used to enjoy your own company, but now things have changed. You enjoy his company, and you can't wait to go back home and spend the rest of your nights with him.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is offered the guest room. He hesitates to suggest staying at a hotel—not because he wouldn't, but because he refuses to leave you. From everything you've told him, he expected your parents to be loving and accepting,

even though the situation is life-changing. That was the only reason the idea of a hotel even crossed his mind. But now? No way. There's no chance he's leaving you alone, not when your parents are this furious.

Your father stands by the door as Jungkook looks around the room and blinks. It's very different from his; the room is warm, homely, and has a touch of family in it, unlike his luxurious, cold rooms. "All good?" your dad asks, and Jungkook turns to speak. "Yes, thank you." He places his suitcase on the single chair and waits for your father to leave, but he doesn't. Instead, he walks toward Jungkook, leaving him nervous.

"I don't know who you are, but... you don't seem to be someone who would hurt my daughter," your father begins. "Until everything is clear, I don't want to see you around her. It doesn't matter what's going on between you two." Jungkook feels like his jaw might shatter from how tightly he's clenching it, but he forces himself to nod in response. He remains rooted to the spot, his fists trembling at his sides, until your father finally walks out.

The moment the door closes, he lets out a muffled curse under his breath. "Fucking hell!" His frustration boils over, and he stomps his foot in anger. Everything is a mess, and knowing how uncertain it all is from this night makes Jungkook fear for the future.

Jungkook ; Did you take your meds?

You grab your phone when you see the screen light up. Turning carefully to the side, you read his texts and respond.

You ; Yes, I did.

Jungkook ; Good. Are you okay?

You pout at his words, mostly at how cold they sound through the screen. You know he's not in his best mood, and neither are you, but it's not making you feel better, especially when you need him the most at this moment.

You ; Are you mad at me?

Jungkook turns to his left side and sighs when he reads your texts. He doesn't want to sound angry, but can he control himself? Definitely not.

Jungkook : I'm not, baby. I just don't feel okay.

You ; Can you call me? I want to hear you.

Jungkook ; No, not today. I don't want us to fall into trouble right now.

You agree. Now is not the time to call when everything is still heated, so neither of you reaches out, even though you both badly want to. The night is cold, much colder in the empty room you share. This was your bedroom, a place you spent your childhood and teenage years, but none of those memories matter to you now. You've had both happy and sad times here, but you don't dwell on them.

Instead, you focus on the future because that's what matters most—a future where you share every living moment with the man you love and the child you carry. Your parents beside you, supporting your decisions and being part of your life-changing experiences. That's what you think and wish for.

So you turn onto your side, trying to fall asleep, though it doesn't come easy. After hours of counting sheep, you manage to drift off, but it takes every ounce of effort. Meanwhile, Jungkook stays awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering about the "what ifs" and how he's going to face your parents in the morning.

He mentally prepares himself for whatever is left to come and thinks about how he'll protect you from all their questions.

Your parents aren't sleeping soundly either. In the quiet of the room they share, they collect their thoughts together. Last night, they couldn't sleep in excitement at the thought of seeing their only daughter again, but tonight, they lie awake in disappointment and shock that their daughter knocked on their door with a stranger and a pregnant belly.

;

Morning rolls around, and you wake up to the smell of fried eggs and bacon and—a couple of very uncomfortable movements and kicks. "Bun... where are you?" you whine as you try to sit upright and get out of bed. One palm stays on your belly, and the other takes support of the bed. Sometimes, just trying to sit up feels like a whole mission.

After lying down for hours, dragging yourself out of bed can feel like such a chore—especially when the baby's in some weird position, and you can't even tell if it's a hand or a foot giving you that little kick. You try to understand what's what, and by the time you do, there's a movement again.

You're tired at this point, can't wait for the baby to pop out because this does not feel like months—it feels like years since you carried this child. "You're being a pain today, I swear," you mumble as you stand up and take your clothes for the day. You walk out of your room to get to the washroom and meet your father along the way.

"Morning," he says, and you give him a tight smile.

"Morning, Dad."

He helps you with the door, and somehow you feel like the mood may have shifted since last night. He doesn't seem too mad, and he's also giving you a soft smile. Your father has always been a kind-hearted man. He doesn't lose his temper easily and has the patience to handle things calmly. He cools down quickly, which helps him empathize more easily—unlike your mother, who takes a bit longer to let things go.

You love that about him; it's why you like to share most things with him. You used to when you were back in high school and college. Things shifted when you got messy and became a woman. You got closer to your mom, but that doesn't change that you've always been a daddy's girl. Maybe you don't tell him everything now like you used to, but inside your heart and mind,

you're closest to him. That's why he feels hurt more deeply than your mother, even though he rarely shows it. While your mother expresses her feelings through words and actions, he lets his pain show in his silence. If you could look at him more closely, you'd see it all in his eyes—whether it's happiness, sadness, or anger.

It's also one of the reasons why you love Jungkook. His eyes hold galaxies just the way your dad's do.

You shower and walk downstairs carefully, holding the railing while you take each step. You come to face your mother and Jungkook already at the dining table. He has a blank expression on his face as he looks at the food on the table.

"Morning..." you murmur, and he turns his head to look at you. A shine radiates from his features, like you turned on a bulb in him. Your mother glances at you and mutters the same as she seats herself on her chair. You can still see that she's not very happy yet. Jungkook helps you sit and pulls the chair for you.

"I cooked your peameal bacon and pancakes," she mentions as she puts some on your plate, freshly cooked and warm.

You smile and nod. "Thanks..." you mumble. You four share breakfast in silence; only the clinking and scraping of your forks and knives fill the place. You had about four pancakes, two eggs, and a very long drizzle of maple syrup. Your parents glance at each other when you eat so much, making Jungkook feel uncomfortable because they gaze at him too.

He was used to seeing you gobble your food down, but they weren't. You barely ate before, trying to look good and in shape, but now... they feel happy too, seeing you eating so carefree.

"Where are the dogs?" you ask, curiously looking around. Your dogs would usually lie around here somewhere. "They are at Aunt Susan's place. She wanted some company since... Uncle Dan passed away." Your eyes bulge at your mother's words. "What?!" She gulps and nods like it's been ages since that happened. "He passed away a while ago now."

You couldn't believe it because Uncle Dan was someone who played a major role during your childhood. And although he wasn't really there for you after you turned eleven, he was someone special, so it hit you that he passed away not so long ago.

"Well, it doesn't really matter. What matters now is you two," she mutters as she gets up from her chair, screeching it and collecting the empty plates while you nervously look over at Jungkook as he freezes with his fork hanging in the air, waiting to be inside his open mouth.

"Mom... can you hear me out, please—"

"What? You're gonna tell me about this boy you've come with? Who is he even? How old is he? Twenty? And what's on his arm?! He looks unholy—"

"Mom, stop!" you raise your voice at her to stop her from talking rubbish about the man who sits beside you.

Your mother now does her chores with a lot of sound, proving to you that she's angry. You deeply exhale as you try to calm yourself down and not explode at her.

"He's not twenty; he's not a boy. He's a man, he's got his job, and he has a name for himself. If you don't know who he is, you should look it up."

You continue to speak, even though Jungkook gives you the look. He doesn't want them to know that he's a renowned businessman and all that. He doesn't like the boasting about himself. Even though that's not your intention, it puts him in the spotlight, which makes him uncomfortable.

"And about his ta—" Jungkook places his palm on yours to stop you from dragging this, but you don't buy it. "His tattoos don't change anything about him. I like them, and that sums everything."

You mumble and eat up the last piece of pancake before getting up from the chair and washing your own dishes. Your father looks down at his food and doesn't know if he should be happy about how you stand for the man in front of him or angry at how you spoke to your mother. 

"You need to stop talking to me like that, young lady!"

"Mom, what?" You chuckle and lean against the cabinet. "You don't want to hear me explain anything, but you also come up with assumptions? At least hear me out. I know you're mad and disappointed in me, but trust me, this was all unplanned. I... don't want to call it a mistake because I don't think it is one now. But... I promise you that none of this was in my plan or hands." You gently run your hand over your bump, smiling at how big it's gotten and how close your due date is.

Your mom slows her dishwashing, quietly listening to you talk. She's not mad at you about any of this—just hurt that you kept her in the dark all these months. You walk away from the kitchen to the backyard, feeling suffocated in the tension. Jungkook reaches for his plate, ready to wash it, but your mother gently takes it from his hands. He hesitates before speaking, his voice steady but full of sincerity.

"She's seven months pregnant, and... I know I'm still a stranger to you. I know you don't think I'm the right person for her, but I haven't left her side since the pregnancy. Even when we couldn't stand each other for months, I stayed. Things are different now. I really, really care about her. What she needs most is your support—that's what will help her feel better," he says as he backs away from the cabinet and walks to your dad. "Can I be with he—"

"No. I'll go."

Jungkook lets out a frustrated sigh as the conversation ends. Meanwhile, your father peeks outside and notices you sitting quietly on the step in the backyard. He walks over and settles beside you, his eyes fixed on the birds chirping on the electric fence. Neither of you speaks, and neither looks at the other.

You sit there together in heavy silence, your chest tight as you fight back tears. You never thought it would hurt this much, but everything feels overwhelming now. All you want is to go back home, curl up in the bed you share with Jungkook, and hold Bam close until the pain eases.

"Seven months, huh..." your dad murmurs. He smiles and looks up at the beautiful blue sky. "Boy? Or girl?"

"We didn't check the gender yet."

He nods, his smile only getting wider. "You know, when your mother was pregnant with you after three tries, we thought you'd be a boy. I was so sure of it! I got you blue clothes and basketball toys and spent bucks on all that, only for you to be born a girl." He chuckles as he recalls the old times.

"Were you disappointed?"

"Oh God, no. Never." He says with a gasp as his hand reaches to caress your face. "You're no less than a boy, if you ask me."

He chuckles, prompting you to roll your eyes, though a smile sneaks onto your face. Your father gazes at you with pure affection. He loves you deeply, enough to give you the entire world if he could. So, you made a mistake—what of it? At least you had the courage to own up to it, embrace it, and cherish it. He tells you that in his own words, and you feel much heavier than before. Because your father is so kindly accepting you, it fills your heart with love for him, even if the disappointment and agony inside you grow too.

"Look at you. He takes good care of you, I can see."

You blush at this and nod your head. Your father pulls you closer to him and caresses your arm.

"He does..." you whisper. Jungkook is everything you could have hoped for in this phase of your life. Even though he was part of this unexpected situation, he stayed—and that alone speaks volumes. Through all the ups and downs you've faced together, he never once walked away.

"He's the CEO of Jeon Industries, right?" You nod with furrowed eyebrows.

'So Dad googled him...' you think.

"How did all this... happen?" he asks, curiously.

And you explained it to him, leaving out all the explicit details. Your father didn't judge you or give you any looks. In fact, he listened with open ears and arms. Your smile faded while you explained the very beginning of the horrific news, but as you came closer to the incidents that took place recently,

your father noticed how your smile grew and how excited you were. Like you're living in the moment when you talk about Bam and how you both fought and how he made up for it. Your father noticed little details, like how you say Jungkook's name and your eyes sparkle. All that sums up to one question that he had in his mind.

"So, you love him?"

You paused at this. Your eyes blink a couple of times as you look around, trying to find a way to answer this sudden question. This makes him burst into laughter, resulting in your frown. "What, Papa??" you ask, your frown deepening.

"You love him, Y/N... oh, you love him," he says and gets on his feet, walking into the house, leaving you confused.

;

You've never felt so lonely in your home before. Your mom would entertain you, or you would be busy with a presentation to submit in a few days. Now you look at random objects and think of random thoughts with nothing to do. Your father didn't share everything you told him with your mother. He wanted you to tell her yourself. But he did ask her to be gentle with you and not lash out, even if she's more sad than angry right now.

Jungkook wants to be with you, sit next to you, but he can't. He doesn't want to disrespect your parents, so he settles inside his room, texting you or checking on his emails. He hates it here, but he won't tell you. You ask your mother if you could help her cook lunch, and she said she didn't want your help, which made you upset. You've got nothing to do, and it eats you up that you're just zoning out when you could be doing something useful.

"Mom, please, let me help with something," you plead, leaving her no choice but to hand you the chopping board.

You give her the side eye while you chop the vegetables for meat pie. You don't make an attempt to talk to her, but neither of you can handle the silence anymore, so she asks you, "How many months are you?"

"Seven..." She nods while she stirs the broth.

"Do you plan to deliver here or in Korea?"

The question stings a little, a reminder of how your parents haven't been as involved in your pregnancy as they would have liked. You don't want to answer and risk making her feel even sadder. Your silence speaks volumes, though, and she senses your hesitation.

"It's okay," she says softly, her voice understanding. "Just say you want to deliver in Korea."

She walks over to you and places her hand on your shoulder. "You don't have to think too much." She smiles, making you feel lighter instantly. "I'll take these." She takes the cutting board and gets back to work. You see Jungkook peeking at you from his room. He gives you a thumbs up, and you give him a flying kiss.

;

The day slips by quietly. You stroll through the neighborhood with your father and Jungkook, though he couldn't walk beside you like he wanted to—he had to follow behind, which annoyed him, but he went along with it anyway. Jungkook had not been feeling very well; he can't stand how he has to stand meters away from you when you're just around.

He wants to hug you, kiss you, and tell you how he feels, but he can't. You know that too. You see his frustration, and you feel the same. All you want to do is sleep in his arms, and you can't wait to go back home.

To your home.

You didn't talk much to your mother, but your dad did. He shared a few things with her, and it seemed to help her understand everything. Tomorrow, you'd be leaving, and she was trying to come to terms with it all, hoping to send you off on a positive note. She'd been watching you and your bump whenever you were busy reading a book, and she couldn't help but feel so soft at the sight of you and her grandchild.

She wanted to ask you about everything, buy baby clothes, pack up, and be ready to fly to Korea when you deliver. She wanted to do so much, and for that, she must talk to you. 

;

Lunch was quiet, and so was dinner. But when your mother approached the dining table with a bowl of warm apple cinnamon rolls, you swear you almost teared up on the spot. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," she says with tears in her eyes, and you shake your head, pulling the chair so she can sit in front of you. Your father signals Jungkook that they shouldn't be here, so the men get up from their seats and walk to the backyard together. 

"Mom, don't be sorry! I totally get why you reacted like that—anyone would've!" 

"But I should've checked on you first," she says, tears still falling. It hurts to see her cry.  "Hey, Mom..." you wipe away her tears and give her hand a gentle squeeze. "Let me tell you about the crazy journey I've been on!"  She nods quickly, letting out a little laugh, and you watch her, curious about what she'll say.

You shared with her how you and Jungkook were complete opposites and how everything between you was such a chaotic mess. You really thought it would never work out. But somehow, it did. As you recounted all the wild moments, your mom couldn't help but laugh along with you, even though she still had her doubts about Jungkook. 

He wasn't the man she had envisioned for you—she'd dreamed of someone entirely different. Jungkook, being the exact opposite, made it hard for her to warm up to him. She didn't understand what you saw in him. Even by looks, he didn't seem all that good in her opinion, and with those tats that she hated, it made it more difficult to like him. 

While you and your mother had a chat about the past few months, Jungkook and your dad had strolled out into the backyard. Jungkook felt awkward, like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin in the oppressive silence, especially with your dad shooting him subtle glances every few minutes. He wanted to have a conversation but knew Jungkook was nervous and uncomfortable. He wanted to break the ice, to talk to the boy and know him better, to know you better. 

Finally, your dad broke the tension. 

"So, Jungkook... tell me about yourself. Your family? What you do?"  Clearing his throat, Jungkook straightened up, trying his hardest to sound professional—he was too nervous to speak naturally. 

"I'm the CEO of Jeon Industries... I, uh... don't really have a family." 

His voice trailed off as he avoided eye contact, glancing around the yard as if it might offer an escape. He tried not to sound affected, but deep down, the lack of a family stung more in moments like this. Being with your tight-knit family made him feel out of place—ashamed, even—though he'd never admit it. He didn't know how to speak to your dad. The pressure of speaking *to* a father—something he'd never done before—scared him. 

"I like to think Y/N as my only family..." he mumbled under his breath, not wanting your dad to hear him, but he did, and he smiled. He liked that, a lot. 

"You don't have to be nervous, son." 

Jungkook froze mid-step when he heard the word *son*. It hit him like a wave, a word he'd never had the chance to claim as his own. The sound of it lingered in the air, sinking deep into his chest and settling in a place he didn't know was empty. For a fleeting moment, he wished he could hear it again, over and over, like a melody meant just for him. 

Your dad might've understood more than he let on because his eyes smiled warmly at Jungkook, even if his lips didn't fully follow. It was the kind of look that said he knew—he knew Jungkook hadn't heard words like that before and silently wished he could offer them more. 

"Can I call you son?" he asked softly. 

Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his round doe eyes speaking louder than any words ever could. 

"Can I—" 

"Y-yes, yes... please," Jungkook whispered, his voice trembling as a genuine smile spread across his face. He didn't realize how much he needed it until he heard it. 

Your dad opened his arms, his voice gentle but firm. "Come here." 

Jungkook stepped forward, his hesitance fading as he accepted the embrace. It wasn't just a hug—it was a moment that stitched together a part of his heart he didn't know was broken. Jungkook hadn't felt a male presence in his life for as long as he could remember—no father, no father figure to guide or comfort him. 

But this hug, this simple embrace, seemed to mend something deep within him. It was as if all the tangled emotions he'd buried over the years unraveled in an instant, leaving behind a quiet, unexpected sense of peace. It completed him in ways he didn't know he needed, filling a void he'd long ignored. And in that moment, all he wanted was to know what it meant to truly have a father—and to be one himself. 

You four sit together for dinner, and things have never been better. None of you are sulking, and there's no feeling of anger. All that's left is peace and happiness. 

Your dad strikes up a conversation with Jungkook about business, their tones shifting between casual and analytical, while your mom focuses entirely on you, piling more food onto your plate every chance she gets. She barely spares a glance at Jungkook, her disapproval lingering quietly, even as her husband seems to admire the man sitting beside you.

Despite your dad's growing fondness for Jungkook, your mom remains unconvinced, her gestures more protective than welcoming, as though silently questioning if this man is truly the right one for her child. 

You feel Jungkook holding your thigh and bump every chance he gets under the table. Since he's barely made any contact with you, he craves it so much more, and he can't wait to get back home and make love to you, skin on skin, with no one to stop or fear. 

After dinner, your mom gently suggested you head to bed early and even asked if she could join you. Her question caught you off guard, and you hesitated, unsure how to respond. 

Your dad, always observant, noticed the fleeting glance you exchanged with Jungkook—and how Jungkook immediately choked on his water, scrambling to cover it up by suddenly fixating on the slightly crooked frames hanging on the wall. 

Clearing his throat, your dad chuckled softly, pretending not to notice Jungkook's awkwardness. "Guess I'll fix those tomorrow," he said, his tone light, though his knowing glance at your mom betrayed his thoughts. 

"I can help you with that, Mr. Lee..." Jungkook began, but your dad quickly cut him off.  "Oh, shut it. Don't call me that," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Call me Dad."  Your mother whipped her head around at the words, her expression a mix of confusion and surprise, as if she was silently asking, *What on earth is going on?* 

You couldn't help but glance between Jungkook and your dad, wondering when exactly their bond had formed.  Jungkook, though clearly anxious, couldn't help the small warmth that spread through him at the thought of calling him 'dad.' Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly. "Of course! Come on," your dad said, his voice full of reassurance. 

Jungkook bit his lower lip, trying to suppress the smile that was threatening to spread across his face. You couldn't stop yourself from giggling at the sight of their unexpected camaraderie, even though your mom's quiet frustration was evident in the way she folded her arms, unsure what to make of it all.

;

"mmmm you look like you're having a boy..." your mother says with a smile beaming through her face as she hands you the pills and a glass of water, examining your belly while you lay on the bed. "Really? I wouldn't mind either way," you say and gulp down the vitamins. "Oh, I'm so excited for you! We can go out tomorrow if you wish... since you'll be leaving at night."

You nodded and handed back the glass, wiping off your lips. "Good night, Y/N. Call me if you need anything..." "Good night, Mom." She walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. You immediately grabbed your phone and texted him.

You ; Pstttttt wake uppppppp

Jungkook ; I never slept, darling

You ; Come out in... 10 mins

Jungkook; Why???

You ; I want to see you

Jungkook ; You saw me the whole dayyyy

You ; I want to touch you

Jungkook ; Don't talk unholy, Y/N!

You giggled at the reference to your mom that Jungkook typed.

You ; plssssssss

Jungkook ; If we get caught, Y/N, it would be bad

You ; They're probably asleep, we won't get caught, trust meeeeeeeeee

Jungkook ; Your parents strictly told me to stay away from you

You ; Either you meet me down, or I'm coming into your room, and we fuck

Jungkook ; What the fuckk!

You ; You heard me, and I'm hungry anyway.

Jungkook ; Stubborn.

You waited patiently, tapping your phone and looking around the room, finding the old posters of The Beatles so fascinating, like you're seeing them for the first time ever. You even put a timer on your phone because you're not waiting any longer than 10 minutes; it already feels like an hour. As soon as the timer says 1 second left, you get on your feet.

"Baby, you need to stop kicking me right now. I'm not in the mood for this pain. But I'm so in the mood for your father!!!!" You giggle and open your room door, peeking out to see if your parents are around. Then you tiptoe down the stairs very carefully because you don't want to roll down the stairs.

"Oh my god, Y/N, give me your hand!" he whispers as he comes up the stairs and slowly takes you down.

"Jungkook!!!!" you jump and hug him. You miss him so much, you would rip his clothes right this moment at how excited you are.

"Baby, I miss you." "I miss you so much moreeeee." "No, I do!" "Nope, it's me." You both fight as you stay in each other's embrace. You miss his warmth and just the feeling of him so much.

"I wanna fuck so badly." "Shhhhh, behave, Y/N." He covers your mouth, looking around just in case your parents hear you. "I don't want to behave," you whisper, your lips grazing his ear, a hint of mischief lacing your words. He closes his eyes at the feeling of your lips. He doesn't want you to behave either,

but he can't; you both must be cautious. You're not alone here. "Being on your best behavior gets you nothing. So why not be bad instead?"** Jungkook's jaw tightens, his dark eyes narrowing as he tilts his head to face you.

"You think being bad will get you what you want?" You smirk, leaning in closer. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like it better when you try to fix me." A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, but his expression remains firm. "Oh, I'll teach you how to behave when we get home."

"Yes, please, Mr. Jeon..." He arches a brow, his tone dropping an octave as he counters, "Being on your best behavior has its benefits, darling." "Then teach me, sir..." "Don't test me, Y/N. We're not home," he warns, his dark eyes flashing with intensity. You can't help but chuckle at how quickly he reacts, you intentionally edge him. "I'm hungry! Make me something..."

"This isn't my kitchen..." he protests, glancing around nervously. "I know, but do something," you reply, gesturing at the ingredients scattered on the counter. "Your mom will kill me if she sees this mess." "I'm giving you full permission to mess up my mom's kitchen. So just do it. Make me something," you insist with a playful pout.

He rolls his eyes but relents, pulling open the fridge in search of something quick and easy. After rummaging through its contents, he grabs crackers, peanut butter, and jelly—something simple that won't create too much chaos. As he starts preparing, you interrupt with a soft plea.

"Wait—come here. Help me sit on the counter, please.!"  "Y/N..." he sighs, but there's no real annoyance in his voice, just mild exasperation mixed with affection. He steps closer and gently lifts you, his hands steady as he sets you down on the cool countertop. You smile at him, swinging your legs slightly.

"Much better. Now I can supervise properly." "Supervise? All you're doing is sitting there and watching me," he teases, smearing peanut butter onto a cracker with deliberate care. "Exactly. I'm an excellent supervisor. And also—"You pause, poking his arm to grab his attention. "I like being close to you."

For a moment, his movements falter, and he glances up at you with an unreadable expression. Then he shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"You're so annoying."  "Yeah, but you love it," you quip, making him chuckle as he resumes his task. Minutes later, he holds up a cracker sandwich triumphantly. "Here. Gourmet dining at its finest."

You giggle, taking the makeshift snack from his hand. "Who needs a five-star chef when I have you?" "Yeah, yeah," he mutters, turning away, but you catch the faint blush creeping up his neck and red ears, popping a cracker into his mouth as you pull his arm to make him get closer to you. "Stay close..." you whisper as you deeply exhale in his warmth. You miss him so much, you can't wait to be around him every second.

"I want to go home." You mumble while licking the peanut butter off your finger. "But you are home..." he says with a frown. "Home is where you are, Jungkook, where we both are together." This makes his heart skip a beat, but he doesn't show it. "Yeah?" he asks, and you nod with an eyebrow raise. "Getting quite good with your words, huh?" "I've always been good with my words and actions."

"That, I know," he says with a smirk, scooping a dollop of peanut butter and playfully smearing it on your nose. "Heyyy!" you protest through laughter, retaliating by dabbing a bit on his nose too.

"Shhh..." he whispers, his chuckles melting into the quiet warmth of the moment. He cups your jaw gently, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leans in, resting his forehead against yours. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, eyes locked, the soft hum of affection filling the air. Neither of you notices the figures watching from just beyond the doorway.

"They really do love each other, honey," your dad says softly, his voice filled with quiet pride as he glances at his wife and wraps an arm around her shoulders. She smiles, her eyes glistening with emotion.

"I know... I know," she whispers.

next chapter ⇢

[koiiiji]

and what about damn Seoul?

tw ; arguing, but happy ending(quite?), fluff

summary ; Kwak Jibeom always felt like he was in the eye of a hurricane when Jihan, you and Jichang were arguing. but at the same time it was funny to watch — the king of Seoul always obediently gets up from the table every time you leave the family dinner because of another revealed secret — for example, how it was the last time you found out about another large illegal scheme that Jichang was pulling off, after he assured you for the hundredth time that this would never happen again

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

it had been a relatively quiet evening when your boyfriend and his brothers finally arrived at family dinner. the aroma of grilled meats filled the air, and the clinking of utensils provided a backdrop to the awkward silence brewing between you and Jichang. the fight from earlier still hung heavy, casting a shadow over the meal.

Jihan poked at his plate, a scowl etched onto his face. his usual moody demeanor felt heightened tonight, and you weren’t about to let it slide.

“so, Jihan,” you began with a casual yet pointed tone, slicing through the silence like the edge of a knife. “how’s school going? keeping up with your studies?”

Jihan’s fork paused mid-air before clattering back onto his plate. he rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “school’s pointless. maybe i’ll just quit and become a gangster like him.” he nodded toward Jichang, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

room tensed. your gaze flickered to Jichang, expecting him to intervene. to say something. to defend the idea that his brother finishing school might matter. but he stayed silent, jaw tight, avoiding your eyes. it stung.

“Jihan,” you said firmly, your patience thinning, “school is important. at least finish high school. it’s not just about grades; it’s about giving yourself options —”

Jihan snorted, interrupting you. “what’s the point when people like us don’t need it?”

at that, Jibeom finally spoke up. “she got a point, you know. you’re not going to get far with that attitude.”

you shot Jibeom a grateful glance, but the tension was palpable. Jihan shifted uncomfortably, mumbling something under his breath.

“excuse me?” you asked, raising a brow.

“vixen,” he muttered, just loud enough for you to catch.

you froze. Jibeom looked between the two of you with wide eyes, while Jichang’s hand clenched into a fist — but still, he said nothing. the silence from your boyfriend hurt more than Jihan’s insult.

without a word, you stood up from the table, your chair scraping against the floor. the heat of frustration bubbled beneath your skin. “you know what? enjoy your dinner.” you throw your napkin and left the room.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

hour later, you sat on the couch, still fuming. the faint sound of footsteps caught your attention, and you looked up to see Jihan and Jichang standing in the doorway. Jihan looked sheepish, while Jichang carried his usual stoic expression, though his eyes held a flicker of regret. his snake eyes narrowed and waving his head, he invited his brother to step forward.

“Jihan has something to tell you.”

younger shuffled forward, rubbing the back of his neck. “i... i’m sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

you sighed, your frustration softening slightly. “Jihan,” you said gently, standing up and stepping closer to him. placing your hands on either side of his face, you tilted his head so he had no choice but to look at you.

“listen to me,” you began, your voice firm but kind. “i’m not asking you to go to college or to have everything figured out. but please — please — finish high school. at least that. your brother is working hard to give you two a good life. you’re at a wonderful school in Seoul, living your best years, your youth, even if you don’t see it now...”

and your warm smile disarmed him. Jihan’s face flushed crimson, and he quickly averted his eyes.

“actually, about Seoul...” he muttered, glancing at Jibeom, who had now entered the room and leaned against the doorframe.

“what about Seoul?” you asked, your concern growing. you looked at Jibeom, then at Jichang, who sat silently on the couch behind Jihan, watching the exchange.

“what about damn Seoul?” you demanded, your voice rising.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

“let me get this straight,” you said, pacing back and forth. “some crazy Mexican guy came to Seoul, beat up your people, attacked you with an axe and claimed himself as a king of Seoul — so now we have to leave the city and hide out in the countryside?”

Jibeom nodded solemnly, “he also ate raw meat” he added, as if it was an important detail that you missed. Jihan stared at the ground and Jichang remained seated, arms crossed, his face unreadable.

you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated. “no, hold on —” you stopped, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “i’m going to need a glass. no, several glasses of wine. i’ve had enough of this.”

Jichang finally spoke, his voice low. “i should’ve told you earlier.”

“you think?” you snapped, shooting him a glare. he flinched slightly but didn’t argue.

as you poured yourself a generous glass of wine, you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d gotten yourself into this mess. then again, looking at the three brothers and you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“well,” you muttered, swirling the wine in your glass. “here’s to surviving whatever chaos comes next.”

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

MASTERLIST

[homesick4la]

complicated — hamzahthefantastic

5. apocalypse

contains: sfw content! fluff!

summary: hamzah takes you on date woohoo

a/n: the ending of this part just felt like the song apocalypse by cigarettes after sex so that is where the title is from!

last part: stay here forever

the second that hamzah had left your apartment that morning, you decided that it was time to officially end things with matthew. you couldn't keep leading him on- not when you knew just how infatuated you were with hamzah.

as much as you wanted to simply send him a text or a have quick phone call, you decided that telling him in person would be best. in your teenage years, you would’ve happily ghosted him. now that you were older, you realized that meeting face to face was the most respectful way to end your relationship with him.

you texted him asking him to meet you at a nearby coffee shop. and now, the two of you were sat across from each other in the nearly empty cafe. the room was eerily quiet as he studied your face, a look of confusion over his.

��so..” he spoke, “are we planning our seattle trip? i was thinking we could leave early in the morning on friday.”

“actually, that’s what i needed to talk to you about.” you explain before taking a sip of your latte.

his brows furrow slightly, “what do you mean?”

you take a deep breath. “i can’t go on that trip with you matthew and i- i don’t think we can keep seeing each other.”

his lips part in disbelief, an upset expression creeping onto his face.

“i’m so sorry matthew.” you apologize.

“where is this coming from?” he questions, his voice harsh. “what happened?”

“it’s not you- at all.” you hated how cliche you sounded. “you’re amazing like truly- you’re one of the most respectful guys i’ve ever met and you’ve been so sweet, i just-“

“you what?” he cuts you off, “you don’t want this?” he says, motioning his hands between the both of you as he refers to your relationship.

“listen, i thought i was ready to move on from my last relationship but i’m just not ready. that’s all. i need to work through some things before i’m ready to get into a new relationship.”

maybe you were lying to him just a little bit. but he didn’t need to know that the real reason you couldn’t move on from your last relationship was because you just can’t seem to stay away from your ex.

“you’re seriously still hung up on your ex?” he chuckles as he shakes his head angrily.

you weren’t sure how to respond. you sat there speechless as he spoke again.

“wow. that’s great. so this entire time that i’ve been doing everything to make you happy, doing everything to build this relationship with you— and you’ve just been thinking about your ex?”

you’ve been doing worse than just thinking about him, you thought.

“no, no- listen, i wasn’t trying to lead you on or anything. i really did like you- but my head isn’t in the right place yet and it isn’t fair to you for me to keep pretending that it is.” you explain, your chest tightening. you hated this.

"you could've told me sooner." he sighs, "instead of letting me believe we were actually forming something here."

you look down, "i'm sorry, i just didn't realize it until-"

"until what?" he cuts you off, "until you hooked up with him?"

fuck. you let out a harsh breath, looking away from him.

"nice, y/n. well, i hope it was worth it. i was ready to fully jump into a relationship and you were off fucking your ex." he whispered angrily.

"c'mon, you're being overdramatic- we only dated for a couple weeks." you roll your eyes at him. you knew he'd be a little upset but you could've never predicted this kind of reaction.

"no- fuck you y/n. i thought you were different." he says while standing from his seat, grabbing his cup of coffee and stomping towards the exit.

you prop your elbows on the table in front of you, bringing your head to your hands as you take a moment to process what just happened. the conversation didn't go exactly as planned, but at least it was over.

and now you could focus all your attention on rebuilding what you had with hamzah.

…

the next day was spent feeling embarrassingly excited over your date with hamzah. before he had left your apartment the other day, you two decided to unblock each other’s numbers. the “no contact” era was officially over. and god, you were happy about it.

he texted you telling you to “dress up pretty.” and that he was picking you up at seven.

so now, at five o’clock, you were already doing your makeup. you couldn’t help it. you were so excited.

you were sitting on your bathroom counter, applying each product while singing along to cheesy love songs.

after, you carefully curled your hair and slipped into a long, silky black dress. it was simple but it fit you perfectly- made you feel sexy.

as you walk outside your apartment building, you feel the crisp night air hit you, bringing goosebumps to your uncovered arms. he looks over at you from his spot in the driver’s seat and smiles before climbing out of the car. he walks over to the passenger side, holding open the door for you.

you sit down on the seat and hmazah shuts the car door before leaning his elbows onto the open window, quickly pressing his lips to yours.

he smiles as he pulls away, “hey pretty girl.”

his eyes scan you up and down, his smile never leaving his face. the way he looked at you made you feel like the most attractive woman alive.

“hi.” you respond, unable to contain the excited grin that crept onto your face.

he walks back around, climbing back into the driver’s seat and starting the car. he drives you to the small italian restaurant you two had frequented often within the duration of your relationship.

it was the restaurant you two went to for every anniversary, any sort of celebration, or birthday. there was a piano player that played quietly in the corner. the room was illuminated with candlelight among the tables within the room.

everything about the place was beautifully warm. it’s why it was your guy’s go-to fancy dinner place.

the owner, antonio, spotted the two of you from across the room. quickly walking over to your table.

“my favorite couple!” he exclaims, arms reaching out to gesture towards you two. “finally back together!”

you turn your head away, laughing at antonio’s familiar boldness.

“you miss us that bad?” hamzah asks, grinning.

“miss you? no- i missed the drama. every time you two came in it was like watching a movie. much more entertaining than the dirty dishes.” he laughs.

“mhm, thank you for the warm welcome.” you say, stifling a laugh.

“as always.” he responds quickly, “i’m guessing that you two want your usual?”

“yes, please.” you answer him, smiling at him as you hand over the menu that had been lying on the table in front of you.

he nods before walking back towards the kitchen.

hamzah looks back towards you as antonio walks off, “he totally missed us.”

“he missed being nosy.” you correct him, giggling.

hamzah laughs with you. as the laughter dies down, his eyes lock with yours- a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you question, a hint of sass in your tone.

“just wondering how you get even more beautiful each time i see you.” he replies, reaching his hand across the table to interlock his fingers with yours. his thumb rubbing gently across your skin.

“oh, stop.” you look away, trying to hide your blushed cheeks and uncontrollable smile from him.

“you’re still the worst at taking compliments.”

“mm, maybe i’m just not as conceited as you are.” you tease.

“conceited? nah. it’s just confidence, baby. you think i’d be able to pull someone like you without it?”

you shake your head at him. you remember just how charming he was the first time you two met. you were taken aback at first- his confident demeanor being a stark contrast from the awkwardly funny character he portrayed online. his flirty personality had caught you by surprise and reeled you in.

"you could pull anyone you want, hamzah. i mean- look at you! i know you've seen all those edits of yourself." you ramble, trying to emphasize just how attractive he was.

he laughs, "people just edit to edit- it's a creative outlet. it's like an art form."

"no, no- they edit you because you're gorgeous."

you watch his mouth upturn into a sweet smile. "thank you," he pauses, "see how easy it is to accept a compliment?"

you laugh in response. soon, antonio brings out your usual order. you two continue talking about anything and everything while sharing the pasta and sipping on your glasses of wine.

he was absolutely in his element. making witty jokes while slipping in the occasional compliment. retelling stories you’d heard a thousand times and making it just as interesting as it was the first time. you were so effortlessly drawn to him.

and he truly looked beautiful. the candlelight illuminated his face in way that made him look almost angelic. you could tell he took extra time getting ready- each curl laying perfectly on his head.

he was wearing a black button up, sleeves rolled up his forearms. the sight of the undone top button bringing indecent thoughts to your mind. you imagined unbuttoning all those buttons, sliding his shirt off, running your hands along his biceps…

“you ready to get out of here?” he asks, snapping you out of your fantasies.

“yeah.” you smile, collecting your purse from off the ground.

as you walk out of the building, you turn to him, “did you want to come back to my apartment?” you ask, hoping your fantasies would become a reality.

“nope.” he grins mischievously. you feel disappointment bubbling inside you until he continues. “not yet—i’ve got plans for us. what does nicki minaj say in that one song? the night is still young?”

you chuckle, "that's a great song! we're listening to that in the car." you demand as you two approach the car.

he doesn't tell you where you two are headed during the drive, explaining that if he told you, it would "ruin the surprise." you guys ride with the windows down. you stick an arm out the window- the crisp air hitting your skin in a way that was refreshing.

you two blast music during the drive. you forced him to listen to your corny pop songs and he unashamedly sang along with you. his hand finds it way to your thigh. his fingers dance along the silky material of your dress. his touch brings butterflies to your stomach.

you were on the outskirts of the city now, driving through tree-filled hills. where was he taking you?

finally, the car approaches a parking lot in front of a dome shaped building. the architecture was breathtaking. but you still wondered why he had taken you here.

"what is this place?" you ask, stepping out of the car.

"an astronomical observatory. you always talked about how sad it made you that we couldn't really see stars in the city, so i wanted to bring you to the stars." he answers, walking toward you. "and i know how into constellations you are, so i just thought-"

"hamzah." you cut off his rambling. you step closer to him, reaching your arm out to place a hand on his cheek. his eyes are locked on you, scanning your face. he looked as if he was trying to read your expression- have better insight into your mind.

you inch your face closer to his. your noses touching as he brings his hands to your waist.

you close the gap between you two, colliding your lips with his. the kiss was slow, passionate. you pull away, keeping your hands on his face as you say, "you're so sweet. thank you for taking me here."

you loved how thoughtful he was. he noticed each intricate detail of you, and remembered each one. it felt so good to be seen in that way.

he interlocks his fingers with yours as you walk into the building.

you enter the main hall. the building was even more beautiful on the inside. the navy blue walls were lined with glowing dots in the formation of constellations and images of various planets. there were numerous signs with information on astronomy and interactive stations.

"this place is cool." he exclaims, "you like it?" he looks down at you, grinning.

"i love it." you smile at him, giving his hand a quick squeeze before pulling him into a room full of projectors.

the dark room had a projection of a star's life cycle, showing the star's evolution from a nebulae into a massive star that eventually ends in a supernova explosion.

hamzah's eyes watch the projection curiously. "the explosion at the end is quite dramatic." he comments.

"stars are very dramatic. they burn so bright- they essentially destroy themselves in the end."

he turns his head toward you. "very poetic."

"it's just science," you laugh, "they run out of hydrogen fuel."

he smiles at you, "you make science sound like poetry."

you give him a soft, shy smile before dragging him to the other side of the room where constellations were projected along the large wall and the ceiling above you.

"alright, smarty pants- what's this one?" he points to the constellation directly in front of him.

your heart warms at the sound of the familiar nickname. "that one is orion. it's supposed to look like a giant hunter holding up a sword." you explain, using your pointer finger to trace the outline. "oh! and that one over there- is scorpius. the scorpion that was supposedly sent to sting hunter orion after he said that he could defeat any beast. "

"woah, i didn't know constellations had crazy lore like that."

"yeah, and that's just one version of like hundreds of different stories across different cultures- it's really cool."

he looks at you sweetly, "that is really cool." he says. and you can tell that he means it.

you stay in there a while, explaining the lore behind each constellation hamzah pointed to. eventually, you two make your way up towards the outdoor observation area.

this was a large outdoor balcony filled with multiple large telescopes leaned against the metal railing along the edge.

you make your way towards the first telescope you see, quickly bringing your eye to the lens.

"it's so pretty! look!" you move to the side, letting hamzah take a peek.

after a while of taking turns looking at the stars up close, you two find a bench, sitting down while still looking up at the night sky.

"tell me some more star facts." he requests as he drapes an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer toward him. his warmth comforting in the cold night air.

you think for a second. "in ancient times, people thought their entire fate was predestined by the stars."

"really?" he asks, and you nod in response. "what do you think?"

"i think that the idea that our lives are sort of 'written in the stars' is kinda comforting. but sometimes, i think it's silly to put so much faith into bundles of burning gas." you laugh.

"i think those bundles of burning gas are doing something right." he responds.

"yeah? how so?"

"because they brought me here. with you." he glances over to you.

you meet his glance, "are you saying we were written in the stars?"

"yeah." his lips turn into a soft smile.

"you're such a romantic." you laugh, playfully hitting his chest with your hand.

"hey! i can't help it! you bring it out of me." he chuckles.

you sit in silence together for a moment. you rest your head to his shoulder as you continue staring up at the stars in front of you.

the observatory was far enough from the light pollution of the city that you could actually see stars. many of them.

you notice hamzah's head turning side to side- as if he was scanning the area.

looking around with him, you realize you two were alone out here.

he stands from his spot on the bench, stepping in front of you and reaching a hand out.

"are we leaving?" you question.

"no, no- just c'mere." he says, reaching his hand closer to you.

you take his hand and he leads you to the middle of the rooftop.

he stops. he takes both your hands in his and places them on top of his shoulders. after, his own hands find their way to your waist.

"dance with me."

"hamzah, we don't have any music." you giggle.

"just follow my lead." he chuckles, moving his feet and swaying your bodies together.

you move together in the middle of the observation area. the only source of light coming from the moon and stars above you.

you snake your arms around his neck as you continue swaying with him. his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to him tightly. you rest your head to his chest- the sound of his heartbeat bringing you peace.

you feel him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you dance.

this moment must've been written in the stars, you think. you were always meant to be here- to be with him.

a/n: we r so back. if my star lore is wrong im sorry.... blame google....also i think the next part is going to be smut.. unless yall dont want that then i will think of something else lol so let me knowww also i did not proofread bc im tired

k bye muah

[nonuniverse-tarot]

Should You Let Go Of This Person?

*All my readings are for 18+ regardless the nature of the reading. If you're below 18, then this reading is not for you. Thank you for understanding*

Should you let go of the person/connection on your mind? If so, how can you go about doing that? If not, why were you attracted to this reading?

Can be romantic or platonic, take it as it resonates. (Also, try to focus on the vibe of the images and not so much on the image itself.)

D. E. F.

D.

Quick answer! No, it isn't a must to cut this person off - actually, from what the cards have shown me and the energy I get from the person - there's no reason to cut them off.

From the looks of it, you guys have many dreams (specifically dreams) in common. You seem to get along very well and that this connection is genuine from you AND them. There's great communication, there's great balance - no one sees the other as inferior than them and the two of you see eye to eye.

So, why were you drawn to this reading? You're used to another type of dynamic when it comes to most, if not all, of your relationships/connection of any kind. You're used to more hell fire. More chaos and struggles, than peace and harmony. Someone is always in control and/or has more power over the other. Because of this, you got used to handling everyone with so much caution, that it was easier for you to just not get involved too much.

"It's always the same with everyone, why would it be different with this person? They're probably the same as the rest. With time, their true colors will show so might as well end this now."

However that's not the case this time around. They see you as their equal, as a precise person and someone they can grow with, without fear. I keep getting that the communication, how you communicate with each other, or the potential of this connection, is something that will show the both of you, how it doesn't take blood hatred to be in a healthy connection.

Song: Caffeine - Kiro Akiyama | Look Who's Inside Again - Bo Burnham

E.

Yes you should. You've given this person all the chances and opportunities, you've directly communicated to them the issue you had or what you needed from them to fix this and they haven't done anything. Excuse after excuse from them and from you making up excuses for them when you think about the situation.

No matter how patient you are with them or how much more you decided to put up with, nothing will come out of it. The image of them giving you a seed and telling you it's a garden weed, then you planting it, expecting flowers to grow, only for weeds to come out.

Once you finally decide to completely let go of this person, focusing on your personal projects or even your job will become easier or more enjoyable than before. This person really does affect others around them. They might be an energy vampire.

Let me just tell you, I felt weak during your reading. A thought I had during the reading was 'what are you doing? Why this?' and a feeling of uneasiness. I was shuffling the last few cards and this feeling happened. The person you're asking about might have started this connection with rainbow and flowers, but now it's just spikey garden weeds all over the place.

So, how should you end this connection? By realizing they're not going to change and do all those things they promised you.

You're not weak. You're strong and strong enough to make decisions and take control. You're capable of doing your projects/work without them or their 'moral support'. Go within and really feel. I'm just hearing 'really feel deeply what this is. Really feel how this is.' I'm not sure what 'this' is referring to. Might be the situation you're in or something else, take it how it resonates.

Also - take this step by step and use your intuition. How can you cut this person off? Depends on what your intuition tells you.

Something to know if it's your intuition or anxiety: Fear screams. Intuition whispers.

Song: Don't You Dare Forget the Sun- Get Scared | Burn - David Kushner

F.

Yes you should, but for some reason you're under the impression that if they leave you, your life will become difficult because they're the 'hot shot'?

'Hot shot' is the only thing coming to mind! They made you think or you assumed that they just know everything and anything since the beginning of time to the end of it, when that's not the case at all. You're also putting up a show for them. You're part of the play they've made, but it's not working anymore, not like in the beginning. You're getting tired of participating and that might've caused this person to be more difficult to deal with because they want you to continue this show.

In reality, they don't know jack shit. I'm getting cult leader vibes (they don't have to be 'spiritual' or anything like that) because they talk with such confidence that people would believe them if they said that 2+2=0.

If you continue this any further, you'll go down with them. Life can get easier or harder without them, but what you're actually scared of is the responsibility they have 'handled' for you up to this point. They're handling an aspect of your life, but they know as much as you do about it.

I see most of you leaving them, being more at peace, being overwhelmed, and then having fun during this process of learning how to handle this aspect.

How to cut them off: be fast about it. You don't have to go into detail if you plan to have a conversation with them. Most can just be direct and skip the fluff. Because they do seem to want people to think highly of them, you need to word this correctly.

If you don't plan on having a conversation, then try to cut them off quickly. Like I said above, this could be a platonic or romantic connection, maybe even situationship, so keep that in mind when doing this.

Also, I'm being repeatedly told not to neglect your feelings. You'll have to get many things in order, but don't neglect what you feel. Any separation can hurt, so just feel what you must and continue on.

Song: I PEEP - Odetari w/ jnhygs | Artist vs. Who? - Secrets

I hope this helped you. Ending patterns can be difficult, especially in the emotional/mental aspect so reach out and seek help if you need it!

Thank you so much for being here!

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

hi! so I saw a reddit post a few days ago about a dead aasimar (Omar) who can be found in the House of Healing - but what was interesting is that they said it was *his* wings Balthazar took for Marcus. I always thought they were Aylin's wings; isn't there a line about how Balthazar experimented on her early on, or Isobel reacting to the wings/realizing what Balthazar did, something like that? or did I imagine that? I would love to hear your take on this! (I don't know if I can send links in asks, but it's r BaldursGate3/comments/1gxo0tm/)

Oh, hey! It's Olam the Dead Aasimar Harper, my own personal favourite basically nonexistent NPC to shower with utterly disproportionate levels of attention! He's the guy I brought up in the final part of Moon-chosen, Moon-guided, who Aylin hears about and then really wants to retrieve and give a proper burial to. Entirely because of my aasimar fixation and because I love playing around with Aylin being an aasimar but also absolutely not being a regular aasimar, and how she'd feel about others both like and unlike her.

Olam is indeed the only other aasimar in the game. I love the little story we get told there, via one journal and one note, and one fight against a special animated armour.

The full text of his journal aka "a chilling account of an aasimar Harper's final tendays in the cursed lands" is here, and I find it a really nice bit of writing and an insight into that period - piecing together all these little bits and pieces about what happened to the Thorms and Reithwin and the armies on both sides is my favourite part of the game. Act 2 my beloved.

'All beings should walk free of fear', I was taught. Oh, if only were I granted such a fine fate.

So, Olam is a Harper who fought against Ketheric a century ago, and was there when the curse first happened. He was some kind of spellcaster (his insistence on research and experimentation screams wizard, to me) and he had an affectionate bird familiar called Corvin, presumably a raven. In his experimentation and efforts to lift the shadow curse, he accidentally animated his own armour, which you can fight in that acid pit area. But he ultimately failed, and then he succumbed to the shadows, alone. Tragic stuff, right?

You've activated my trap card! By which I mean I saw that post, saw videos of "you won't believe this NPC you missed!!!" go viral, saw people take it as gospel and start parroting misinformation about a very specific fandom interest of mine again, and got so frustrated I almost started posting WELL ACTUALLY Reddit comments. Horrifying.

Instead I get to ramble here! Thank you so much for providing an excuse (genuinely). It's kind of like the oathbreaker/disowned by her mother nonsense, people just can't seem to leave Aylin alone and let her have any of her actual damn story beats and themes and it grinds my gears. And just like the Child of the Moonmaiden stuff, someone has already added it to the BG3 wiki with zero sources, and now it's spreading like wildfire based on absolutely nothing. What a glorious microcosm of our reality.

Salt aside, thank you for the question! Let me actually answer it, and dig out exactly what is in the game itself.

TL;DR: While nobody looks at the camera and says as much, I'm convinced the wings are Aylin's, and that Balthazar had nothing to do with this guy.

First of all, and my simplest point: regular 5e aasimar don't actually have physical wings. One subtype of them (or, more recently, one of their three once-per-day "transformation" options) gives you this:

You can use your action to unleash the divine energy within yourself, causing your eyes to glimmer and two luminous, incorporeal wings to sprout from your back.

Two luminous, spectral wings sprout from your back temporarily.

This lasts for a whole minute, and then you have to long rest to do it again. Of course, BG3 plays around with 5e rules and adapts them as needed, and there's no actual BG3 aasimar set of racial abilities implemented in the game. There's only Aylin who has the wings on by default, and there's our wingless boy of the hour, Olam - who is a corpse statted as "Human" if you right-click inspect him, so no help there. The only actual mention that he is supposed to be an aasimar comes from the description of his journal I quoted up there, and from the inspiration popup that some character backgrounds get when you find him (Sage and Acolyte, to be specific).

On a personal note, as a player of aasimar characters who've died by being thrown from great heights after having used up their wings for the day, believe me when I say I am deeply envious of whatever Aylin has going on in the wings department. She makes them appear and disappear in a flash at will and it's very cool. I love it. There's a special graphical overlay of feathers fluttering down all over your screen sometimes when she's around. I am enamoured.

Next, in the Marcus confrontation, Isobel doesn't give any signs of recognising the wings, nor does she comment on them specifically - she's shocked by Marcus' betrayal as he's been with them for a long time and nobody ever suspected a thing. I checked the dialogues/devnotes to see if there's anything else there, and there isn't. It's delicious angst material, certainly, the implications are deeply horrifying, and several people have written about it, me included, in tumblr posts and in fics, so you've probably seen the idea around a bunch. Not in the game itself, though.

Moving on, here's the full text of Balthazar's note you can find in Moonrise, titled "A Little Gift":

Marcus - I assume no explanation is needed for just how rare these appendages are, and I trust you shall make good use of them. You have a golden opportunity to please the General. Do not squander it. Access to the unwilling donor has proven difficult since the harvesting, but if I am afforded the opportunity, I shall pass along your gratitude. B.

This is pretty much it with regards to the wings explicitly. Speak With Dead on Marcus doesn't give anything related to the wings either. The only other thing is a little exchange between Z'rell and Marcus at Moonrise if his mission was a success, part of a series of little dialogues where she keeps rebuffing him and his efforts to get his hard-earned "audience with the General":

Marcus: I am free to do more for the Absolute, Disciple. Anything. Z'rell: Would you cast yourself from the tower-top? Marcus: Of course. I have the Absolute's wings to catch me. Z'rell: Off you go, then. I've always wanted to try those ballistas.

Ah, Z'rell, always a delight.

Now, let's look at the relevant final line in Balthazar's note.

Access to the unwilling donor has proven difficult since the harvesting - Balthazar, the necromancer who makes dead pixie moonlanterns, does not have big problems navigating the shadow curse like the Harpers do. Thus, getting to a corpse in the House of Healing morgue a little ways away from Moonrise is not the access problem he's having, nor is it the bunch of zombies that stalk the place. Rather, it is that Shar is angry at Ketheric who betrayed her for Myrkul and is keeping him and his out of the Shadowfell. I've so often seen people rather bafflingly confused by why Balthazar needs the player's help getting to the Nightsong prison when he's the one who imprisoned Aylin there in the first place, and this is why. He tells you as much himself - for instance when you actually enter the Shadowfell:

Balthazar: It seems Shar bears a grudge against my master, General Thorm, and so sought to prevent me from entering in his name. Luckily, you were the perfect agent in helping me slip past her defences. Now the Nightsong is within reach.

As for the unwilling donor bit, and your question of whether there is a line about how Balthazar experimented on Aylin early on - not really? He calls her "his masterpiece" a bunch and loves objectifying her in very specific and gross ways. There's again no mention of wings specifically, but what they do say is he cut out her tongue at least once before:

Nightsong: Ramblings most unsane. Poor Balthazar, for maggots ate his brain long ago. Balthazar: Hold your tongue, Aylin. Or I'll take it away from you again.

They make it so very easy to hate the guy - and agree with Aylin when she says her "heart lit like a full moon when you struck down that cadaver". Here is all the overworld banter you can hear from them, which fleshes out their relationship a bit more. Shocking spoiler: Balthazar is revolting.

Balthazar: As much as I savour our conversations, it's high time we got started. Nightsong: Do what you will. I cannot prevent you. But you know as well as I, I will come for you. One day. Balthazar: Poor child, so enthralled by gory revenge fantasies. You may find yourself disappointed by reality. Nightsong: Let us find out.

Nightsong: Someone's coming. Another Justiciar, I presume. Balthazar: Do you hunger for more company? Am I not enough to keep you sated? Nightsong: I'd [rather] live a thousand years in solitude than lay my eyes [upon] thy putrid visage again. Balthazar: Only a thousand?

Nightsong: Hatred makes you so hideous, Balthazar. Balthazar: Unkind, Aylin. Unkind and incorrect - I could never hate my masterwork. Nightsong: Perhaps you're right - perhaps you're incapable of feeling at all. Balthazar: Please, Aylin - spare me. Your insults grew tired and shopworn years ago.

Balthazar: How long has it been so far? With my work, time just slips away from me. Nightsong: A hundred years. Balthazar: A mere interlude for the likes of you and I. But nevertheless, perhaps it is time for a new chapter. Nightsong: Do as you will. You can pierce my flesh, but my heart beats on, forever.

There's also a tidbit if you ask Aylin how come all it took to release her from the prison was a friendly hand on her shoulder, and she'll tell you Balthazar "taunted and cajoled" her about how easy it would be to break the spell, if anyone just thought to try. So considering all of this, you bet he'd just love to "pass along gratitude" to Aylin and tell her alllll about how they used her own stolen wings to kidnap Isobel, of all people.

So basically, yeah, Balthazar is the one who's been in the Shadowfell prison most often, before Ketheric's relatively recent turn to Myrkul and Shar barring the way in response. We're given the above general vibes and implications of what he was doing there, and the rest is left up to our own gory imaginations. As Gale put it:

A dismal place for an aasimar to spend her existence. Especially with that necrotic toad for company.

There is no connection between Olam and Balthazar at all in the game, but there is one connection between Balthazar and the House of Healing - a negative one, notably.

You find Olam in the morgue of the House of Healing, which is Malus Thorm's stomping ground. It is his laboratory and research notes you find there, not Balthazar's. Malus complains in those very same notes found there that he gets the dregs of cadavers to experiment and mess around with because his nephew Ketheric is letting his Evil Chancellor Traytor Balthazar get first pick and keep the best for himself.

So no, Balthazar did not experiment on this guy or "harvest" anything. Olam is a fairly regular Harper who we can imagine may have lasted a bit longer in the necrotic curse because as an aasimar he'd presumably have necrotic damage resistance and the ability to cast light. He's been dead for about a century, and that's about it.

Aylin is the one the note clearly points to, and, setting aside all the crunchy mechanical and nitpicky details about who does or doesn't have wings and for how long, on every meta and storytelling and textual and subtextual and thematic and classically tropey level, Aylin is the only relevant person those wings could (and should) have come from. It is evocative, it is part of the chilling tale of her betrayal and captivity and serves to paint a vivid picture of the depths Ketheric and Balthazar have sunk to, as well as make Aylin's immense rage and desire for vengeance all the more visceral - and ultimately satisfying.

[vodika-vibes]

I loved the fic you did with Kix and Keeli as twins! Could you do another one but this time with the focus on Keeli x reader? Maybe fake relationship or kissing to maintain the cover kind of thing? Thanksss❤️❤️

It's Kind Of Cliche

Summary: In an attempt to get your family to stop nagging you about having a boyfriend, you lied to your family about your relationship status. It would have been all well and good, only you’ve been invited to a Family reunion, and you need a boyfriend for a week. Desperate, you turn to Keeli for aid.

Pairing: Captain Keeli x F!Reader

Word Count: 1880

Warnings: Reader is described as having hair long enough to wear in twin buns, reader is described as wearing a dress, Keeli is too hot to handle.

A/N: I'm picturing Keeli in the civilian outfit I listed in the story and I think it's gonna kill me. Send help. Also, @the-bad-batch-baroness come and get your man, he's killing me.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You stare at the message on your comm with a feeling of dread threatening to overwhelm you. You never expected your bald-faced lie about having a boyfriend to come back and bite you.

You had planned to lie to your family about having a boyfriend, and then in six or so months, tell your parents that he cheated on you and you don’t want to talk about him ever again.

And then no one would mention you and dating in the same sentence ever again, they would have just pitied you and been angry at the imaginary boyfriend.

You didn’t expect your grandparents to host a family reunion. And you definitely didn’t expect your invitation to come with a note that you must bring your boyfriend to meet the family.

And, while you know that an invitation isn’t a summons, but skipping the event would be much, much more annoying than just biting the bullet and going.

The best solution…well, the best solution would be an emergency deployment so you don’t have to deal with the situation, but that’s not gonna happen.

So the easy answer is to admit you lied and take the comments. 

Yeah. You’re not doing that. 

So the only other option, outside of just not going, is to get a fake boyfriend.

You slide your comm back into your pocket and glance around the room. The room is absolutely filled with single, and attractive, men who would agree to be your fake boyfriend for a free home-cooked meal.

Slowly your gaze slides from one side of the room to the other, trying to decide who you want to ask for this favor. Anyone from any other battalion is automatically out, you’re not that confident.

So you’re limited to the men of General Ima-Gun Di’s battalion.

You run down a list of the men in the battalion in your head, trying to decide who might agree to your request. Of course, now that you're limiting yourself to the battalion you’re attached to, there’s only one choice.

The ever-capable, and totally gorgeous, Keeli.

Plus, as a bonus, you consider him a friend.

The fact that you’ve been nursing a crush on him for ages now definitely  didn’t factor into your decision. Not at all.

So, you steel your nerves, and then you hop to your feet to go and find the man who, you hope, will save you from a week of merciless mockery. 

“Keeli!”

You find him outside the barracks, lounging under a tree in only the bottom parts of his armor. He sits up slightly as you approach and says something to the person on the other end of the comm, then he drops his comm to the ground beside him and motions for you to join him.

“Sorry,” You say as you sit on the ground next to him, “I didn’t know you were on a call.”

“You’re fine, it was just my twin. He wanted to tell me about the date he went on last night.” Keeli leans back against the tree, but keeps his gaze locked on your face, “Did you need me for something?”

“Uh…well…I need to ask a favor.”

His eyebrows creep up his forehead, “What kind of favor?”

“My family is hosting a reunion and I need you to come with me.” You pause, and grimace, “Well. Not you specifically, but also it needs to be you because I’m the most comfortable around you.”

He stares at you silently for a moment and then he speaks, “That’s not a hard ask, I’m sure the General will be fine with it. Is it normal for your family to ask people to bring friends to these things?”

“Ahhh…” You avert your gaze sheepishly, and you can feel your face burning, “They…may have the understanding that you’re my boyfriend. Possibly.”

Keeli is completely silent, and you take a chance to look at him. He looks surprised, and more than a little disbelieving. 

Before he can answer, you rush ahead, “It’s only for a week!” You shift so you’re sitting on your knees next to him, almost begging him to come with you, “And-and-and, after we can pretend to have a big nasty break up and you won’t have to do anything more than, like, hold my hand or something—” You’re babbling now, but you can’t seem to make yourself stop.

Keeli stops your babbling by pressing a single finger against your lips, “If I’m going to pretend to be your boyfriend, I’m going to be the best fake boyfriend.” He counters, “So, what’s our story?”

“You’ll do it?” You ask.

The smile he shoots you is tiny, but it’s real. “Yeah, princess. I’ll do it.”

You lightly bat his hand away from your mouth and fling your arms around his neck, “Thank you! Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me! I’ll find some way to repay you, I swear it!”

Keeli laughs quietly and hooks an arm around you, “Don’t worry about it, Princess. But we do need to have matching stories, don’t we?”

Three weeks later, you’re introducing Keeli to your parents and grandparents at a massive resort that you would have never been able to afford if your parents weren’t paying for the both of you.

Surprisingly, they look like they approve of Keeli. 

Of course, how could they not?

You steal another glance at Keeli, and a small smile lifts your lips. He looks amazing in the civilian clothes that you bought him. The reddish brown button-up shirt he’s wearing matches the dress that you’re wearing, and yet he looks so much better than you do.

With the top two buttons undone, and his sleeves rolled up around his elbows, you can’t look at Keeli without blushing like a lovesick schoolgirl. Curse him and his attractive features, and curse you and your humiliating crush on your Captain.

“Is everyone here family, Princess?” Keeli asks as he slides his arm around your waist to tug you against his side.

“Yeah, pretty much. Both mom and dad have over 7 siblings, and all of them have 4 or 5 kids, and all of those kids are married or engaged with kids of their own.”

“Ah,” You lean your head against Keeli’s shoulder, confident that he’ll support you, as he looks around the crowded garden, “So, are you the odd one out in that you’re not married?” He teases.

You huff and elbow his side, “I’m the baby of the cousins. It’s not my fault that all of my cousins are in the 40s.”

Keeli hums his understanding, “If you like, I can fake a proposal on the last day of the reunion.”

“Please don’t.” You reply immediately, already able to feel your face burning, “I don’t want you to have to feel like you need to keep doing stuff like this.”

He stares at you for a moment, his lips quirking up at one corner, as though he had just heard a hilarious joke and was just waiting to fill you in on the punchline.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He replies, there’s even amusement in his voice.

You shoot him an odd look, and his small smile blossoms into a wide grin. 

“What, Keeli?”

He lightly taps your nose, “One day, you’re going to look back at today and find it hilarious.”

“You can start making sense any second now.” You mutter as you scrunch up your nose.

“Could, but I’m not. Come on, let’s go meet some people.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re talking to a pair of drunk uncles. How, exactly, they’re already drunk when the bar has only been open for half an hour is beyond you, but you’re slightly more concerned with how this conversation is going.

“You know,” One of the men says, or slurs, “I kinda thought she paid you to pretend to be her boyfriend.”

Keeli’s smile is very polite, “Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean…look at her.” He gestures to all of you, and you scowl, offended.

“I look fine, Uncle.”

“Nah, you don’t. That dress looks awful on you.” Your other uncle says, and you glance down at the dress.

“I…does it?” You ask, with a glance towards Keeli.

“I think you look great.”

“You don’t have to lie to her, boy. She’s hardly a supermodel—”

Keeli cuts them off before they can continue, but the damage has already been done. You can’t seem to stop brushing your hands down the material of your dress, or anxiously touching your hair. 

He ushers you away from the crowds of people, and catches your hands as you reach up to try and adjust your twin buns, “Hey, you look amazing.”

“They’re right though. I’m not—”

Keeli sighs heavily, and the next thing you know his lips are pressed against yours. The kiss starts chaste, but as you reach up to press your hand against his cheek and lean into the kiss, he wraps his arms around you and tugs you closer. 

He breaks the kiss before you want him to and presses his forehead against yours. His dark eyes scan your face and then he grins, “Princess,”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Yes, please.”

This time, when he kisses you there’s nothing chaste about it as he backs you up so you’re pressed against a tree. One of his hands settles low on your back, his warm fingers playing with the exposed skin of your back. His free hand slides up your side to press against the back of your neck, holding you to him.

This time when he breaks the kiss so the both of you can gasp for breath, he keeps his lips hovering just over yours. “So,” Keeli breathes out, “Princess, about this fake dating thing—” He trails off as he catches your lips with his one more time.

“Perhaps,” You murmur against his lips, “We can adjust?”

“You’re reading my mind, Princess.” Keeli murmurs, “You being my real girlfriend is going to make sleeping in bed next to you so much more enjoyable.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He kisses you again, and the only reason he stops is when someone clears a throat nearby.

“I’m sure the pair of you are having a good time,” Your mother says with a wide grin, “but the family would like to meet your young man, darling.”

Keeli’s forehead falls to your shoulder with an uttered oath in Mando’a and you have to muffle your giggles, “Um…yeah, Mom. We’ll be just a minute.”

“You have five. If you’re not out in five, I’m sending the little ones in with water guns.”

“Threat received,” Keeli replies, his voice muffled by your shoulder, “It won’t be necessary.”

“Good.” You watch your mother leave, and Keeli finally lifts his head from your shoulder, there’s something heated in his gaze and you lightly clutch at the front of his shirt.

“Later,” Keeli promises, “We’ll finish this later.”

“Promise?”

“God himself couldn’t stop me,” Keeli replies.

And you release a breathless giggle, “I’ll hold you to that, Captain.” You lightly brush your lips against his jaw, and then push him a step back. “You ready?”

“For today to be over, absolutely.” He replies, and then he takes your hand, “Come on, mesh’la. Let’s get today over with.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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[sideysvault]

𓍼ོ Ad Astra Per Aspera 𓍼ོ (PT. 3)

Preservation

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

wc: 1015k

Tags: [sfw] Arranged marriage, slow burn, angst, mentions of dead, mature themes, enemies to lovers, hurt, comfort.

full series masterlist. read part four (Coming soon)

────────

“You must indulge me and carry a weapon with you. You are my wife now. That implies risk in these circumstances”.

The Princess couldn’t help herself, she blurted out a laugh as she playfully —yet cruelly— added “Are you having delusions of power again, dear husband? We are not the ones responsible for the royal lineage, remember?”.

Aemond snapped his tongue in annoyance, forgetting everything he was taught on the matter of manners and polite diplomacy. It was always the same with her, the constant bickering, her vain mockeries. He was sure it was some kind of delusional defense against the act of political marriage, because he had seen her be nothing but sweet towards Heleana and his niece. Despite knowing that fact, he still felt that their differences and her inclinations towards confrontation constituted an act of personal defiance. 

On the other hand, his wife was tired of his constant oscillation between coldness and strange tenderness, he had been cruel to her about their lineage, and now was he seeking to protect it? 

Whatever spell had been cast upon them on that dreadful night, whichever feelings were discovered, however warm their touch had felt to one another, it was now undoubtedly broken. 

She knew that despite being feared and undermined, Prince Aemond was also passably seasoned in the art of war, and of civility at court. She did not consider these traits to be of great merit, as even a chimpanzee would be considered to be formal and of considerable intelligence if it stood directly beside The King.  The Princess was not entirely sure where his urgency was coming from, but, knowing of The Queen's Dowry’s great cunning expertise in Machiavellian machinations, she was not sure if she should be afraid.

She scoffed out loud without meaning to. His paranoia must be rubbing off. Aemond seemed offended, as he exclaimed with irritation “You of all people must know what happened. We ought to do what we can to protect ourselves against the enemies of the crown“.

While it was true that the white cloaks wasted the entirety of their time drunk on wine and whores, the truth was that she felt safe with her husband. She would have never said it out loud, of course. Much less to Aemond himself. But she simply could not deny that he was fairly capable with the sword, childishly paranoid and positively ruthless. The Princess really felt no need to arm herself like a scared lamb. And she told him so. “Such displays are in bad taste”. 

This was his time to mock her with a snort. 

“Being precautionary is in bad taste now?, I had not yet been enlightened with that information” The Princess frowned. She was still getting used to her husband biting back, instead of his usual annoyed and quiet nature. 

“It merely functions as a cry of desperation, not to mention it announces a lack of control within the own walls of your home”

The Prince, clearly tired of the back and forward, tiredly stated “Well, let it be small then. Conceal it if you wish, but we must start being careful”.

She felt a pinch of guilt. On some days —such as this one—, she wondered why she always had to put her worst face forward with him. She naturally had her reasons, but most of the time, when he was not ignoring her, she could tell he was making an effort to be cordial. 

“Why are you so suddenly preoccupied with my well-being?” The change of tone in his wife's voice confused him. The serious ring to it was suddenly replaced with a playfully lighthearted one. Noticing his discomfort, The Princess tries a new strategy, while exaggerating her inflections slightly, she dramatically sits on the arm of the chair in which her husband rested and grabbed his cup. “Oh! Husband. You must stop drinking that tea immediately” It was wine “If I knew you loved me that much I would’ve never poisoned it” Evidently charmed by her own ingenuity, The Princess laughs at her own joke as he rolls his eyes with a small smile on his lips. 

He took the opportunity which her proximity granted him to look at her. On a good mood, with that smooth and resolved attitude of hers, and the smile, and the way her hair ran through her slightly exposed shoulders… He stopped his sequence of thoughts before it was too late, and he lost all ability to do so.

His strong features recovered their sobriety soon enough though, as he whispered to her “Heleana and Jaehaera will suffer greatly if something were to happen to you”

The Princess, unable to control her body's reactions, rapidly felt her face feverishly enraged with embarrassment. Not knowing what to answer, she simply instinctively began to fidget with the baroque embroidery of her dress's sleeves. It was certainly true that she has not been any careful about her new-found relationship with the queen. She knows that if he ever uses it against her, there is no one to blame but herself for it. 

She gazed at her husband. He was strikingly handsome, especially under the dim lights which always seemed to highlight his cheekbones, especially when his silver hair reflected the moonlight of the marital chamber, especially when he was being kind. The Princess sighed.  

“If you are so bent upon the matter, I suppose I ought to comply. But it must be discrete”.

A wide grin appeared on his face; Cunning, triunfant. He carefully put his wine cup on an improvised protective cover her wife had made In an effort to stop hearing his winning about dust and marks on the table. She smiled.

Prince Aemond got up, ceremoniously bowed towards her, and buttoned his garment before making his way to the door. Before he left, he slowly turned around to see her one more time, just once. He gazed at her and proudly stated “I promise. As small as the pen you write your stories with, dear wife.”

Dear Gods. He could be such an annoying bastard. 

────────

Notes: THANK YOU! The comments and re-blogs really do bring me so much joy. Here is a short but sweet chapter in order to celebrate that i got into one of my target unis! I am beyond happy. During these moments of stress being on tumblr has been a safe heaven. Anyways, as always, take care! -Sidey xx

Dedicated to the sweet @immyowndefender and @theresalwaysquotes whose comment really made me smile

[asexualbookbird]

I'm sitting here quietly like Steve from Blue's Clues. What is there to say about November. Yall experienced it as much as I did. Saw my friends which was great and muchly needed. That's all this month had going for it, to be honest. November is never kind to me.

The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon ⭐�� - I didn't understand anything that was happening. I thought it would be easier if I read it instead of listening to the audio and that made it worse. There were neat concepts floating around in here, but nothing hit right. Was the eating each other literal? Metaphorical? Both? Neither? Who knows. Not I. I don't wish to experience this author again.

Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee ⭐⭐⭐⭐- Hey look I finally made it through this! This is what took most of my reading time this month. I think I technically read it twice, since I'd reread it after listening to the audio and went back to some middle bits once I was all the way through. It's definitely confusing and a full brain book, but honestly I want to reread it because I think I'll have a better grasp at it the second (is it the third now?) time around. It's weird how with some books, having to do this is a chore, but here, like with Ancillary Justice, I look forward to it. Will read book two, but unsure when.

Sunbringer by Hannah Kaner ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This took me like two months to get through. It wasn't bad, and I thought it was because I didn't want it to end, but I think the beginning is just slow. I think it's more set up than plot progression, if that makes sense. Still! A fun read!They're all together again, but at what cost! Can't wait for book three!

Even Though I Knew the End by CL Polk ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ - OUCHIE. WOWEE. GAY. Look I solved the mystery pretty ealry on and I DID NOT CARE! NOT ONE BIT! It had cute bits it had funny bits it had painful bits so many painful bits. Bittersweet. Enjoyed much more than Witchmark and has put CL Polk back on my radar.

The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw ⭐⭐ - Meh. Reminded me of Someone You Could Build A Nest In at some parts, which was nice. Otherwise, bland and I didn't buy the romance. Where's the Connection where is the Chemistry. Shesheshen and Homily were at least friends.

Somehow, these books had Themes. Silly little guys in your head. Lots of blood and viscera. Eating your friends and enemies. That was unintentional. I have no plans for December except to speedrun a couple gifts that have somehow slipped through time as if December doesn't come to us every year. I would like to get at least one more book scratched off of my yearly list, but I won't beat myself up over it if I don't. Book club is coming up, and I"m excited to reread Monk and Robot. Might even treat myself and reread all of Murderbot too. I need a little treat. We all deserve a little treat.

[starkid2464]

I just. Mastermind!!!

I have so many feelings man.

Stolas just lost EVERYTHING. I feel so bad for him, he has nothing but the clothes on his back and they got trashed. He’s likely not going to have custody of Octavia anymore, and I doubt Stella would voluntarily let him anywhere near her.

On that note, Stella, bitch, GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER! Get away from Octavia or I will burn you so far to the ground, they won’t be able to tell where the ash from you and the ash from the house intersect. Stella is going to at least try and manipulate this kid so hard. Granted, I don’t think she’s going to let Octavia think Stolas died (Octavia has a penstagram after all and would likely figure out he’s alive pretty quick with how the news seems to be spreading) but Stella could very easily manipulate Octavia into thinking Stolas did it to abandon Octavia, instead of saving a life, expecting nothing in return.

I can tell in the next episode (Sinsmas), Octavia going to say and do some things that once she figures out the full situation, she is going to regret. But I’ll forgive her for that, I was in that place too once, craving comfort from the only ones around, yet knowing that love comes only if you behave how they like, and because Stolas sheltered her, she likely can’t even tell that she is being manipulated.

And on the other hand we have Blitzø, he’s just made history as the first imp to survive after being sentenced to death. It seems like all of imp-kind is rooting for him, requests for his services are through the roof. For once, this man is catching a break. Then again, this will likely only pay back the obscene debt he got into during his breakup blues. Not only that but his daughter, his Loonie, finally called him dad. And Stolas, the man who he is just barely ready to say the L word to yet very much feels it, is in his house, staying with him. It’s gotta feel surreal considering how bad this day got.

And while we’re talking about Blitz, he almost died. That’s going to leave a scar, on all of them. Blitz might feel guilty for still being alive, when it cost Stolas so much. Stolas, as previously stated, lost everything he had except for his life, but is glad to have Blitzø alive.

Moxie and Millie… if Blitz died, IMP likely would have went down, leaving them jobless and putting Millie back in the position she was before she met Blitz, just with a husband and a daughter as well.

And Loona, sweet Loonie, almost lost the only reason she wasn’t put down at 18. The man who has given her so much, a home, food, a license, a job and a family.

And god, Fizz. I swear he and Ozzie are gonna get in a fight. Not a relationship ending one, nor a big one that’ll have them spending weeks apart but one closer to this: Ozzie comes home, and calls out “Fizz, I’m home. I picked up the sushi.” Fizz is on the couch, curled up, a death grip on his phone, the TV is off. Ozzie comes around the back of the couch “Fizz?” Fizz looks up, at the man he loves then down at the floor and croaks out “I don’t want to talk Asmodeus.” Fizz takes a breath before sighing “But why’d you have to do that.” Ozzie tries to take his hand but Fizz moves it away “Fizz, -“ but Fizz cuts him off just beforehand “I know, I know, it’s your job and it’s not like you could have taken all of them. It’s just. You knew, just as well as I did that Blitzø was innocent… and you didn’t say something?! I- I just can’t right now.” Fizz gets up and starts walking toward the door. Asmodeus calls out “Wait, can you at least tell me where you’re going?” Fizz looks back while gathering the essentials “I’m going to visit Blitz… I’ll be back before tomorrow. We’ll talk about it in the morning?” Ozzie bends down, passing Fizz the keys to the car “If this is what you need go ahead. I’ll tell the driver to meet you downstairs.”

And the next time Fizz and Blitzø see each other, I need something like this to happen: Fizz shaking Blitz violently “You asshole, you are never allowed to scare me like that again!”

Also, getting away from the more headcannony stuff, Stella’s probably still going to have a hit on Stolas’s head. It would let her keep the palace and everything else in the house to herself, with the added bonus of Andrelphus remaining a prince. A second assassination attempt would be wild to have to witness.

Also, I have a feeling that if/when Stolas comes into the IMP office, he will not be anywhere near the customers. They just got an influx in imp customers who aren’t happy with what he just said about their kind. (You don’t want to drive away the main source of business you just got)

Also, they really showed the classism in this episode. They put Loona in a MUZZLE! a muzzle! And they didn’t even let the I.M.P. defend themselves, automatically giving them all the death penalty until Blitzø begged for only him to die. Then when they hear Stolas is the one who committed the crime, they give him a slap on the wrist in their terms.

[sweetbottletops]

I know this is a serious scene, but I really like how Mitsuki did her hair for prom. <manifesting> It reminds me of when she told Aya she liked her natural perm. She's trying to be cute for her date. <manifesting intensifies>

Ch. 111

Here we go! I guess the third volume (*does the math*) is ending around the events of the big night then?

Mitsuki is presumably either being driven to the train station or driven directly to the industry party.

Her hair looks like 18-20-ish year old Joe's did back in the day. Can't escape those genetics. The half of her that is non-Koga does not present at all. Maybe her nose. Unclear.

Joe indirectly pointing out how freak'n weird it would be to bring roses to where she says she's going. Mitsuki isn't telling him her plans, but she's definitely taking those roses to Aya. And she's handling it herself without his help.

TBF Joe has fumbled his own romantic life to the point he is going to be lapped by Mitsuki at this rate. She isn't getting advice from him this time.

Reading between the lines Mitsuki has grown up knowing that she had been the roadblock for them being together and that has to suck. No matter how much Joe didn't hold it against her. They've mutually tried very hard not to be a burden to each other, but they also have had nobody to share their feelings with about this in the process because the other is part of the reason things are as they are.

Now that it's happening AGAIN and she's not just older but in her own communication stunted relationship she has to feel the hurt even harder.

Wait. Could we be headed towards a double event? A prom AND airport get-your-girl-athon? Don't fumble this, Joe.

Mitsuki, who used to say there are things talking won't fix about those two, is talking about feelings. She's the only one who can say these things to him finally. The silent third person in the triangle has grown up.

["Wants to get mad, but couldn't catch up in time."] I've never felt more seen.

Mitsuki is not going where he's taking her anyway so this works out fine.

It kind of looks like she bludgeons him with the flowers. Not sure if she's given them to him or still has them. He might need them more with Kanna than she with Aya at this point.

If Mitsuki talked more this would be a shorter series.

But I get how she couldn't talk to him about Kanna until now that she's grown up and loved someone herself. Look at the stars in her eyes.

I get he's holding on to her youth out of love, but seeing that he'd choose to drive her to a party that she could get to on her own instead of making it to his absolute last chance with Kanna... it had to be Mitsuki forcibly removing herself from the equation for him to get to this moment.

He isn't wired to pick himself without outside help. Flashback to when Kanna turned up again. He had a second chance and it's at the 11th hour now. Hopefully she did give him the flowers to use.

Team Joe — Assemble!

[takes1]

Hi hiii :)) your writing is amazing mwah mwah. Perfection.

Anyways just wanted to request a Kageyama x reader, who just happens to be oikawa’s younger sister who is also very into volleyball. People get shocked that she’s Oikawa sister since their personalities are so different but they look somewhat alike (they’re both tall and pretty hahah). Kageyama was watching the girls teams play at the tournament since theirs finished and he kinda got obsessed with the way she plays and obviously reader looked amazing 🤭🤭 so he approaches her after the game not knowing she’s Oikawa’s sister

kageyama flirting w/ tall!ace!reader

*attempting. attempting to flirt in his own unique way. poor thing. also i love you anon and thank you sm!

warnings. none, sfw

info. kageyama attempting to flirt / tall!reader / ace!reader / oikawa's sister!reader / kageyama being dumb / kageyama crushing on reader / aoba johsai!reader / wingman!hinata / exchange of numbers / potential for a part 2 / 2.6k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests?

Kageyama chose to sit and watch a few more teams play their respective tournament bracket while waiting for their bus to pick them up. It would be a long ride home. He would zone out, rest, and get away from the buzzing, orange fly in his ear then.

Right now, in the middle of Aoba Johsai's last set, he kept on the edge of his seat with a firm brow.

"She's like Azumane," Hinata sighed, about a five minutes behind Kageyama's own observations.

It took not only a stellar performance, but a timeout and penalty because you broke three of Date Tech number 8's fingers with your last spike for Hinata to make that connection.

The penalty costed your team their last two points. You were called off the court for the next 4 minutes, he barely caught your dewy face made of stone. Both audiences were in an uproar- one more justified than the other- but Kageyama had to side with you because he needed to watch you play more. He might not get the chance again.

Number 8 should've taped her fingers. Better yet, she shouldn't have tried to keep blocking you.

You not only knew how to get around it, but the way you worked with your setter, and the unmatched control and strength in your swing made blocks impossible.

"I didn't think this kind of thing happened with the girls," Hinata mumbled, craning over Kageyama to get a look at you off-court.

Kageyama shoved him off and rolled his eyes at the assertion. "Obviously, dumbass."

A smattering of Johsai's male team were taking the hit harder than even you, at the edge of the bleachers.

Oikawa led Watari, Yahaba, and Mattsu, and Hanamaki in their 'Crybaby' chants. They were on their way to earning another penalty for your team, deterred only by Iwa, who was about the only person alive that could successfully shut it down.

Now both of the teams were in a tense battle, both genuinely angry at one another for taking needed players off. It was a rigid one-point dual for minutes.

He had a limited view of you as it played out- tough and stiff as just about everyone working for your team took turns talking to you; Coach, advisor, manager, teammates. Assumedly all "It's not your fault," "Keep your head up," "8 will be alright" and the like. You were their Ace, for sure.

4 minutes was enough time to assume their girls' team would meet the same unfortunate fate as the boys today against Karasuno. It was why all the Johsai guys were leaned over the railing, screaming at every play, because they just couldn't take another devastating loss.

He didn't realize how much they needed you until they let you out, unfortunately timed straight into an even-scored serve.

"(F/n)!!" Oikawa shouted, above the roar of the audience once they all realized you were released and put in the back position.

Kageyama watched you look up- that was your name? How did he know your first name?

The rest of the Johsai team joined him when he cried, "Break it!!"

Your big, pretty grin raised Kageyama to his feet. He had to see this.

Your ritual was silent and rode the time out to the very last second. A sigh of breath on the ball, another good luck spin, then up into a jump--

WHAM!!

A loud, clean, cross-court serve to win the game for Johsai. No volley. Just a brutal, final blow to Date Tech's morale. They sank into the floor as your school flew into a frenzy and celebrated a satisfying victory.

That serve was familiar, but Kageyama didn't get to dwell on its origin too much before Hinata yanked him out of his thoughts.

"You should talk to her!"

He was too close, and he could feel his face warming up, so he shoved Hinata's head to the side and started walking away.

"You clearly like her," Hinata muttered.

A quick turn of his head, with a very mean expression, shut him up- but it didn't help the heat crawling up the back of his neck, and it didn't reduce the truth in Hinata's argument. Just his volume.

No amount of brooding or pride would get him any closer to you. Caught between the choice of rejoining his team or making his existence known, he turned sharp on his heels.

And Hinata knew better than to speak and revel in his victory just yet. Kageyama would probably screw this up.

When they were coming quietly up on Aoba Johsai's designated spot, Hinata scanned the crowd of girls for you, and despite the many distractions, found an interesting twist. Oikawa let you down from a monster hug and it was clear his dark-haired counterpart was too in-his-head to notice.

Kageyama bit a shudder back at the sight of so many people crowded up. He had no real reason to approach you, no connection, no excuse other than the truth.

"I think--,"

"Don't talk to me." Kageyama snapped, short on patience. He pushed his hands through his hair and added, "Don't even act like you know me. Just... be somewhere else."

Hinata pushed a giggly smile down. He split off and decided to pick Iwa's brain for some tips.

Kageyama rubbed his hot face in his sobering absence- he'd have to gather his courage alone.

You were leaned over a bench full of various duffle bags, trying your best to quiet your mind with all the celebration behind you, when a presence broke through your focus.

When you looked up, it wasn't a teammate or one of your brother's friends- it was somebody new. Somebody cute, and tall enough.

"Hi?" You glanced around, but found that he was indeed addressing you with an unbroken stare, "Uh- nice to meet you?"

You weren't nearly as mean as the game made you. You were like Azumane, in the way that you seemed quite kindly when you spoke. You were far prettier, too.

"Hey," He muttered, glancing around for a moment in a dismissive fashion, "That was a good game."

Confusion was evident on your face, but you were grateful for the compliment anyway, "Thank you!"

You went back to packing your bag. He was nothing short of lost, fumbling hard with no desire to be upfront and equipped with no other reason to speak with you.

The proximity granted him the clarity to see that you were taller than he thought. Your face was much softer up close, your smile way cuter than the grimace you wore for most of the game. You were too nice for breaking through so many blocks and scoring so many points.

When you realized he was still standing there, you zipped up your bag and faced him again, grasping at straws for something to say. You glanced at his jacket.

"Oh! You play for Karasuno?"

He evaded your gaze shortly after meeting it. He nodded and put his hands in his pockets.

It wasn't necessarily a call-out; you realized his team had triumphed over your brother's earlier today only right after asking him. He must've been able to avoid suspicion in all the commotion.

"What do you play?" You pressed.

"Setter," He answered a little straighter.

He certainly was a good height. He met your gaze, which was more than you could say for most guys. You clocked him as a perfect stranger to start but as you glanced around his handsome features, you began to piece together those two facts-- something was off.

When you opened your mouth to ask for his name, all that came out was a startled reaction to an arm, heavy around your shoulders.

"Well, well, well!"

You rolled your eyes, "Oh my god..."

"If it isn't The King- here to rub our faces in his false win!"

Kageyama squinted, his nose a little scrunched at the nickname, the insinuation, but most of all the contact in front of him. This wasn't going at all to plan. It was like rock bottom was only getting dug deeper around him.

You shook off Oikawa's arm and, despite having no reason to, defended him, "He didn't say anything like that, Toru. Fuck off."

Oikawa huffed like the big baby he was and crossed his arms over his chest instead.

"He doesn't need to. That's just how he thinks."

"Stop projecting," Kageyama spat. He glanced between you now, wary of the fact that you might be dating.

"How do you know each other?"

You asked Toru, specifically.

When you shifted to look at him, there was a thick intensity to the air between them. It wasn't an enjoyable experience, having to brave the rigid atmosphere by yourself. It was like they needed a room.

"They were on the same team at Kitagawa!" A delightful blur of orange cut in.

After such a demanding, arduous game today, this labyrinth of a conversation and all the odd strangers were getting old, fast. You didn't have a whole lot of time to absorb every bit of information. So they went to the same middle school-- great. That did not explain a damn thing. Now this kid looked familiar, too.

Instead of keeping on that train, you took a big breath to introduce yourself to the shorter guy.

"Nobody asked you."

Your face fell. The ball of sunshine faded in a flash. Now everyone was stiff.

"That was mean." You stated, unable to let it slide after a moment of deliberation.

Kageyama looked shocked, like he either didn't realize what he said was cruel, or he didn't expect anyone to call him out on it. You figured it was the latter, given Hinata's sad, no-retaliation reaction.

"Are you Hinata?" You heard yourself guess. There were only so many 5'3 ginger players here- especially none that caused as much of a stir as him.

Hinata nodded fervently and you grinned with a hand outstretched, "Well, it's nice to meet the legend himself."

Delighted as he was, he didn't take your compliment in the slightest. He shook your hand with two smaller ones and you watched his blush spread right to his ears.

"Legend?! You're the legend! We saw your game- that was so awesome!! How do you put that much BOOM in your spike?! I didn't think--"

You laughed chiefly at the 'Boom,' then at his excited rambling.

When he said 'we,' you glanced to his dark-haired friend and pieced together that they must have been there together. He still looked like he was taking your comment personally.

It truly all fell apart at his feet. Oikawa was talking at him, but he couldn't hear a word. He watched past his shoulder as Hinata took his spot, dazzling you with his stupidity and enthusiasm with so much ease, so quickly. How did you know the runt and not the guy who threw his sets?

The thought occurred to him that he had something to learn from Hinata about talking to girls, but it pissed him off so bad that his expression begged a smartass comment.

"Woah- watch out, ugly. Your face might get stuck like that!" He cackled and jabbed a rigid finger at Kageyama's chest.

He choked when you threw a hard punch at him in the back. Hinata stopped rambling at your show of force and backed up a few steps.

"Stop being so childish! God, you're the fucking worst," You ignored his dramatic gasps of pain and looked right over Hinata's head to nod at his friend, "No wonder he doesn't like you."

Regardless of how mean the other guy was, you knew your brother was deserving of everything you said.

"I'm older than you!" He whined, "Ugh- Shit, that hurt! Don't talk to me like that--,"

It was only in this moment that Kageyama understood your dynamic was nothing to be competitive about. Oikawa was your older brother. As much as it was a cosmic 'Fuck you, Tobio,' he was relieved that your eligibility was up to speculation again. Your likeness to him was now obvious, and not a symptom of any familiarity effect.

"Then start acting like it," You rolled your eyes and ignored the yammering that ensued- you looked to that quiet, pretty boy.

He didn't even glance at Toru's impassioned blithering as soon as he felt your eyes on him, "What's your name? You never said."

"Kageyama." He muttered, soft and distant.

There was a faintness to his words, a cloudy preoccupation on his usually sharp expression whenever he addressed you. You understood his intentions now and couldn't help but feel flattered.

Once Toru realized he wasn't going to get any more attention, he deemed neither of the two idiots as a threat to you and joined his team further back into the hall. There was no way you'd entertain dating either of them, anyway.

"So," You spared a glance back long enough to know he wasn't returning, "What were you really here for?"

Kageyama looked a little shell-shocked. His mouth hung open a moment, and he glanced at the floor near your feet. His eyes trailed back up in a way that could've been incriminating, but you decided not to comment on it.

"I just- wanted to say good job. Really. Your technique... is cool."

He was so obvious. You failed to bite back a smile at his -seemingly rare- sincerity.

"It's awesome," Hinata emphasized. When you looked at him, he visibly tightened and felt the need to disguise it with more words, "Man, I wish I could hit as hard as you!"

A shy laugh found you- you covered it with your hand. Kageyama wished you wouldn't.

"I could show you sometime, if you want," You offered. Any excuse to play again was appealing, especially with someone who had this much energy.

He gasped and began speaking with only Kageyama in a big, animated fashion.

A teammate of yours tapped you to let you know your team would be leaving for the bus, soon. Before that, you hadn't noticed how much the crowd was thinning out. There were only a few of you left and you knew you needed to go soon.

You looked at your brother, eyeing your little trio from afar. He wouldn't leave without knowing you were alone and unfollowed. Especially with his antagonistic opinion on Karasuno, in general.

"I can give you my number if you want to set something up. I- really gotta get going."

Hinata's eyes grew wide and sparkly with joy- you could tell he appreciated the offer on a few levels. He quickly fumbled around for his phone and you exchanged numbers.

Kageyama eyed you like a hawk, but you pretended not to notice until you pulled away.

A brief glance at him was all it took to send him back to a broody, avoidant mess.

"Just send me a text when you wanna meet up, okay?" You slung your bag and pushed on his shoulder playfully before jogging away to catch your friend.

There was only a brief moment of silence while the pair walked to rejoin their team.

"I'll break your legs if you don't give me her number."

It didn't put the fear of God in him the way he wanted it to. Hinata, equipped with newfound courage and a dash of arrogance, laughed instead.

"What are you gonna do with it? She won't want a text from you--" He evaded the first swat, got clipped on the second, and almost dropped his phone when Kageyama lunged for his phone a third time.

Before he could succeed in a fourth attempt, Hinata took off in a sprint towards their exit with Kageyama lagging behind.

It was easier to dodge the swarms of other teams and visitors with his smaller frame, but once they reached the end of the hall, it would be up to the mercy of their team to hear his pleas and save him.

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@integers @yuchacco

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