#and i’m going to make a ‘soulmate’ au for that one and it’s going to me SO FUN. i’m calling it soulmate anarchy i can’t wait to write it
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My contributions to this post (I found and absolutely adore these):
HotWings: featuring Danny, Dani, & Dan
Patron Saint Danny
Loose Ends
Glass Coffin
Danny Has Bat-Wings pt1 ART!!
there’s like, so many parts to that one I can’t list em all lol, but I do highly recommend!!
The two shrinks<3
Danny’s Fixin the Clocks
Don’t talk shit about Danny’s mom or so help him-!
Danny and his clones<3 ART!!
Danny Fenton is Jason Todd’s Long Lost Twin Au
Cajun Fudge!!!
Mama Gotham Is Mad
Ghastly Glacial Goodies ART!!
Lazarous What?!?
Halfa Dick Grayson
Oh, It’s On!
SpookySpaceEats
I am not okay abt this concept<3 Please I beg of thy writers pleas make an actual fic of this I mean the outline is here but like I could hands down read 200k of this. like I would write it myself it’s just it would be really bad bc I’m bad at writing so like yeah DeadTired reanimated food and Tim angst like there is so much hurt/no comfort turned hurt/comfort that could be found like so so much Tim angst that non of the Batfam members know how to help I could write a semi-character study-
Amity is a Multi-Dimensional Dump
Dead Man’s Diner
DeadSerious Soulmate au
Alternative to Dan when the Nasty Burger Blew Up (going through all the reblogs will take a while but definitely be worth it)
Sean Fenton
Other master post I found but I’m too lazy to copy/paste
This one isn’t DpxDc but it’s too funny not to share
Fuck/Marry/Kill Bruce Wayne edition with pre identity-reveal JL
My favorite DPxDC posts on tumblr (as I find them)
Eco-Ecto-Scientist Danny (I recommend going through all the reblogs of this one, they go in all sorts of beautiful directions, but you will get sucked in for a good two hours)
Danny and Sam are Thomas and Martha reincarnated
Dead on Main singer!Danny au song
Crime Lord Danny
Everlasting Insomniacs - Tim goes to Arkham
Danny and Danielle hostages in Gotham with moving walls
Tucker is a Streamer Danny is his cryptid roommate
Jazz is Arkham's new entertainment version 1
Jazz is Arkham's new entertainment version 2
Team Phantom knocks out Nightwing
Son of Themyscira: Danny's Grave
Danny works at a diner front
Team Phantom is Young Justice Dark
Batman buys Constantine's soul
Constantine's Interns
CADMUS Danny and Match
Danny is a training villain art
Danny's Bowery Daycare (with fic link)
VVV These two start with the same prompt but go in wildly different directions. VVV
Escalation au
Instincts au
Thermos/Urn Misunderstandings
Drink mix-up and Weston family curse
That's all I can find for now, my eyes are burning and I've been at this for 3.5 hours.
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So I got this idea about a Zosan Soulmate AU and just had to write a little bit about it. I don't know how fast I can update this, but its a start and I’m going to keep writing it 😊
My Name on your tongue
Part 1
Paring: Zosan (maybe Sanzo, too)
Soulmate AU
Triggers: Child abuse, swear words, death
Six years old
“In our world, you get something very special when you turn 18. You get to summon a familiar - an animal, mythical or natural - that will be your companion throughout your whole life. The animal you summon is based on what you need in life and what fits you. No one knows who’s assigning the animal to you, but it always fits.
Now, if you are very passionate and loving toward your familiar and it returns that feeling, there is a chance that it will turn into a human and become your soulmate. But this only happens when there exists such a strong bond that both of you would endure the greatest pain imaginable for the other. The bond has to be so strong that you’d die for each other.
Most people don't put in the effort because why go to that length for an animal? Also, there is no greater need to be with your soulmate unless your familiar turns into it. You can perfectly live without ever getting your soulmate.”
“Is father your soulmate?” Sanji wanted to know, looking up at his mum.
Sora shook her head, her expression somewhat painful, but her son didn't pick up on that fact.
“But…you don't have a familiar around.”
“I know,” Sora swallowed drily. “She…she died. She wanted to protect me and got badly injured. I couldn't help her.”
Sanji looked shocked at her.
“I’m sorry…”
He snuggled against his mother to comfort her. She smiled sadly and brushed a hand through his blond hair.
“When you get your familiar, make sure to protect them. It’s a really bad feeling to lose them forever.”
“I promise. And I will love them so much! I can't wait to meet them!”
Sanji was so different from his siblings, and Sora was thankful for that, but she knew that he would have it worse than them. While pregnant with him and his three brothers, her husband genetically modified them - against Sora’s will. He made them stronger, more durable - as he called it - faster and better in anything. He got rid of their emotions and made sure they would become his best soldiers. In doing this, he also hoped to influence the familiar they’d get. He wanted them to have big, brutal animals - monsters to make their enemies shake in fear. Sora had watched him silently get rid of the emotions and feelings of their oldest child, their daughter Rejiu. He somehow managed to manipulate her into an obedient, emotionless kid, strong and fast, and an expert in poisons despite her young age. She was his first perfect soldier.
But Sora wasn't standing by as he tried to corrupt her other children! So, after learning about Judges doing, Sora took a poison to destroy the modifications. Unfortunately, it only worked on Sanji. On the one hand, she was happy for him; on the other, she was sad and devastated. Sanji would never have any worth for his father; he’d always be the failure, and she was the reason why.
Although Sanji always smiled when he came to visit, she saw the bruises and cuts. She saw the pain behind his young eyes. She knew what his siblings and father were doing to him, and she could do nothing to stop them. So she always tried to give him the best times when he came to visit her. Unfortunately, the poison she took destroyed her body and made her bedbound.
Hugging Sanji tightly, she did her best not to start to cry. She knew that her days were counted…and it would be the end of the night when she would leave Sanji behind to deal with everything all by himself. The only ray of light was that at least on his eighteenth birthday, he would get a familiar that surely would protect him. That was why she told him all about familiars! She wanted him to know as much as possible, as much as humanity found out about them. Sanji sucked everything up like a sponge!
The only thing she wasn't allowed to tell him was how to summon his familiar. Because if a familiar was summoned before the eighteenth birthday, there were terrible side effects. Sometimes, the familiar wasn't fully developed….like the child. Other times, the child couldn't hold the image of the familiar (which was important), and it would turn out deformed. And then there were times when the familiar was an adult and got really protective and possessive of the child - sometimes so much it had to be put down because no one could touch the child without getting attacked, even when the kid was hurt, starving or anything else putting its life in danger. So she wouldn't tell Sanji - even if a protective familiar wouldn't be the worst…she wanted them to have a chance at getting real friends, and Sora hoped Sanji would be allowed to find his soulmate. She hoped he could experience this purest kind of love in the world.
“You need to go,” Sora mumbled into Sanji’s hair. “It’s past visiting time.”
“I don't want to…”
“I know, love. I know. But your father will get mad if you stay, and you know that.”
Sanji nodded, suppressing sobs, as he pulled away from his mother. He lifted his head and smiled at her.
“I’ll come again tomorrow.”
“Yeah, do that. I can't wait to see you again, my little angel.”
Sora hugged him tight and placed a kiss on top of his head. Why should she tell him that she wouldn't be there in the morning? It would only upset him and make him sad and guilty. She felt her spirits leave her body slowly but surely. At the end of the night, she’d be dead, and Sanji would be alone. Before she let him go, she brushed a hand through his hair and made him look up into her eyes.
“Remember that I will always love you, my little sunshine. Regardless of what will happen in your future. I’ll love you every day of your life and after it.”
Sanji looked a bit confused, but as soon as Sora smiled, he smiled back, placed a quick, wet kiss on her cheek and ran out - so his father wouldn't punish him.
~
“Useless!”
“I’m trying…” Sanji sobbed, holding the side of his face - it pulsed with pain, and he was sure his lip was bleeding.
“That's the point!” His father yelled. “You are trying! You shouldn't have to try! You should be able just to do it!”
“But I…” another blow, and Sanji flew backward against a pillar of the training room - he groaned in pain when he hit the stone with full force.
“You are weak! A false experiment! A fucking failure! I should just get rid of you!”
Judge was towering over his son like death himself. And Sanji couldn't do anything different than feel fear and hurt and disgust at his own body. The poison from his father's lips seeped into his mind and planted a dangerous seed. He cried when Judge grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and held him up to his face.
“And that's why you don't have a familiar. You will never get one! Never! I took that ability from you because it would be as weak as you are, and I don't have use for two failures in my kingdom!”
Sanji sobbed uncontrollably. Ever since he asked his father about his own familiar - which was a big, dragon-like creature always lurking behind his throne - he left no chance unused to point out that Sanji would never have one. Sanji didn't understand why he would rip this opportunity from him, why he was such a mistake in his father's eyes. Just because he wasn't as strong as his siblings? Because his skin started to bleed when cut or punched hard enough? Because he cried when he got hurt?
“Get out of my sight before I start losing my temper,” Judge growled and tossed him aside like a back of garbage.
Sanji scrambled to his feet and ran from the training room, hoping his brothers wouldn't wait outside like they did most of the time. His hopes crashed when he closed the door, and laughter sounded behind him.
“Look at that,” Yonji said.
“The weakling is back out,” Ichiji grinned.
“Seems like he still can't handle a punch,” Niji snickered.
His brothers gathered around him, laughing and pointing at him. Sanji felt tears in his eyes but tried to swallow them. He hated to cry in front of his brothers, just as much as he hated to do so in front of his father. His eyes searched for pink hair, and surely, he found his sister, standing in the background but grinning as evil as the rest of them.
“Leave me alone,” he sobbed - knowing very well it would turn in the opposite of what he wanted…but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.
“What?”
“We couldn’t hear you over all your whining.”
“I think he said we should show him how to fight.”
And a blink of an eye later, he crashed against the wall and slid down to the floor. Lying there, he curled up into a ball to at least try and shield his stomach and face from the kicks and blows that rained down on him like a hailstorm.
In the end, he was beaten bloody, and they left him where he was lying. His eyes stared into nothingness while his tears mixed with the blood and formed little puddles on the floor.
Hours later, he was able to drag himself to his bedroom. Curling up in his bed, Sanji felt tears in his eyes again.
“Why?” He cried into his pillow. “Why am I not like them? Why do I have to be this way?”
He knew why, his mother had told him, but still…There were moments when he hated his emotions, and he would give them up just to see the same smile on his father's face, pointed at him like he was giving his siblings.
He was worthless, and that's also why he would never have a familiar, which made him cry even more. Since his mother died two months ago, he always comforted himself with the knowledge that he’d get a chance to meet his soulmate. But because he was weak, because of his emotions, Judge took this ability, this gift from him. The first time he mentioned it to Sanji, his whole world was shattered. He didn't even feel the hits his father was dealing. He was numb…almost lifeless. The only thing he was looking forward to - the only thing that made his little heart and mind strong enough to survive and not give up - was the reassuring thought of meeting his familiar.
After his breakdown, he thought maybe, if he got better, if he could prove to his father that he was worth keeping around…maybe he would give him the ability to get his familiar back.
“I have to…get stronger…” Sanji sobbed while drifting to sleep.
All he wanted was to be loved and be part of this family…
#one piece#roronoa zoro#black leg sanji#zosan#soulmate au#Zosan Soulmate Au#Familiar Au#germa sanji#tiger zoro#sora vinsmoke#vinsmoke niji#vinsmoke yonji#vinsmoke ichiji#vinsmoke judge#vinsmoke reiju#Why do I love to make Sanji suffer so much?!#tw abuse#tw child abuse#tw death#My Name On Your Tongue
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The potential of combining Marble Hornets and Soulmate AUs drives me up the WALL with thoughts like:
- MH Soulmate AU where you can feel when your Soulmate is near. Tim has a sinking feeling as to why he keeps getting that same feeling around the Hooded Guy but he’s scared to admit it to Jay. He’s not even sure he can believe it himself— surely that’s not Brian?
- MH Soulmate AU where you get symbols on your skin representing your Soulmates. Alex can’t see Brian’s Sunflower, Amy’s Needle And Thread, or any of the other’s Soul Marks anymore. A big circle with an X through it now covers each and every one of them, and he knows in more ways than one, he’s tied to this creature who haunts him.
- MH Soulmate AU where the name of your enemy and your lover are written on each of your wrists, but you don’t know which is which. Brian jokes with Alex about how funny it is that the two most impactful people in his life have the same name. He now knows, years after the fact, that they are one and the same.
- MH Soulmate AU where you get the ability to see color only after you fall in love but it goes back to grayscale when that person dies. Tim, who has been enjoying his life of color ever since he fell in love with Jay while hotel hopping, hears a gunshot from inside Benedict Hall and watches the color bleed away and goes back to being gray.
- MH Soulmate AU where the symbols representing your Soulmates on your skin become scarred over when your Soulmates die. Jay one day wakes up sometime after the Summer of 2006 and realizes that two of his Soulmates marks have been scarred over and desperately tries to get back in contact with everyone because he doesn’t know who to grieve.
- MH Soulmate AU where tattoos of flowers representing your Soulmates bloom on your skin after you meet them and stay forever. Tim gets a compliment on the beautiful tattoos covering his body from an old lady who remarks how lucky he is that he not only has so many Soulmates, but has met them all at such a young age. Tim smiles as earnestly as he can, and doesn’t tell her that none of them are alive anymore.
- MH Soulmate AU where marks appear on your skin only after you meet your Soulmate. The cast gets together one day and shows theirs off, happy that they’ve found Soulmates, whether they be romantic or platonic, in each other. There’s one Tim has that he doesn’t like to talk about however— an O with an X through it. They don’t pry— not all Soulmates are good ones after all, just impactful. But in the coming weeks, one by one, they’ll all wake up with identical marks on their skin but without the slightest idea of who they came into contact with to make it appear.
One day, Alex will see it up close, and shudder at the sight of the Operator’s faceless head and colorless skin with a complete lack of marks. The Operator has no Soul Marks and will never have any, as it only takes and marks others as it’s own.
- MH Soulmate AU where your Soulmate’s scars appear on your own body. Jessica doesn’t know why Tim wears a scarf all the time until she catches a glimpse of a jagged scarred-over cut on his throat. She doesn’t ask of course, but she wonders, and sometimes wishes she could bring it up and finally have someone who understands her. Because there’s a scar over where her heart would be that she instinctively knows it’s Amy’s and knows it’s the reason why she’ll never see her again, and she thinks Tim would understand that better than anyone.
- MH Soulmate AU where the names of your Soulmates are written on your wrist but are crossed out when they die. Brian, in his shack in the woods, gently traces over the crossed out names of Sarah Reid and Seth Wilson and vows, no more. And yet, it is easier said than done, because the name ‘Alex Kralie’ is written in mocking, looping letters on his skin but it is the reason he hesitates, even when he has a gun pressed against Alex’s head, because thinking about even Alex’s name being crossed off too makes him feel more sick than he’d like to admit.
- MH Soulmate AU where Soulmates feel each others pain, and when Alex brings a block of cement down on the Masked Man’s leg, Jay cries out in agony right alongside him.
There’s just. SO much potential there for tragedy, canon divergence, Hurt/Comfort, fluff, and horror alike. They’re all so inter-connected and having a physical representation of that is so GOOD, y’know?
#marble hornets#mh au#marble hornets au#as you can see the idea of the Operator affecting Soul Marks makes me go NUTS#shit I gotta tag stuff alright we got#gun#death implied#horror#body horror#maybe??#broken bones#for the last one#I think that’s all of them?#tell me if I missed anything#anyways. Soulmates is a good trope and can be used for SO MUCH#I’m a huge fan of platonic soulmates too like#goddamn. these people are so important to you as buddies that you’re physically bound together by the universe#I just. hfdfgfgchghx#yeah.#I did a variety of combinations so hope y’all enjoy that
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One time I tried writing a soulmate au and I was going to try to like. deconstruct?? the idea of soulmates with it but I still made the mistake of making the two love interests actual soulmates (rookie mistake) and about 20k in I was looking at what I had written like. Oh this is gonna piss me off too bad to finish I can’t do this mission failure
#like i went. i’m going to challenge the idea of soulmates by having two characters violently push against everything soulmates are only to#find out they were soulmates all along at the end YOU IDIOT!!!#so that fic is never getting finished lol#i do have another idea for a different fandom (where all the canon relationships are batshit and accidentally Very aspec coded lol)#and i’m going to make a ‘soulmate’ au for that one and it’s going to me SO FUN. i’m calling it soulmate anarchy i can’t wait to write it
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*grabs my ocs on the top of the head like they’re in virtual families and drags them into a new genre for my bedtime story*
#ravenpuff writes#brb reclaiming a story I started writing *years* ago in the before times#that I lost because of reasons by sticking my ocs into it#saving the basic idea but rewriting the details to fit them which is honestly fun#we all knew it was a matter of time before the Misfits became a crime crew anyways#Also good news this Blaine can still fit so much trauma in him#it’s also fun because I haven’t decided on a solid Connor and Alex dynamic yet and now I’m exploring it in this au setting and I’m hoping it#will give me ideas for the future#anyways if you see me posting about theoretical Misfit soulmate marks later just accept it#Con gives out makes that are all shiny. Like they’re a silvery blue but they reflect light and look shiny at certain angles#Alex gives out marks that are a deep rich purple mixed with a color that reminds him of each person#Teddy gives out Pokémon marks (because Teddiursa tehe funny)#Ben’s are all plants. cause nerd#Josh and James always give tattoos that go in pairs#like Blaine gets Ariel’s locket around one ankle from Josh#and Ariel’s voice coming out of it wrapped around the other ankle#from Josh#Leo always gives out constellations#Charlie’s tattoos always are a fading red/orange/yellow like fire#Julius’s are always music related#*I meant soulmarks not tattoos it is late#anyways I’ve been thinking about this a lot it’s fun#Like their roles!! Juls and Charlie gets to be demolition experts#but also along with Oli they create most of the tech the#crew uses and they modify weapons to make them cooler#Alex is really really fucking good at doing stealth stuff. between him and Mason Grace they are the sneakiest team around#Connor knows so much about every single weapon and always knows the best one for the job.#Blaine? He’s one of big guns. because of his time in the agency before this he knows how to run a mission and be effective#he’s not afraid to#go in guns blazing and yet always makes it out alive. he knows what he’s doing. he trained for years for this.
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Surrender
Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.
No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.
(Soulmate AU where Loki won)
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.
A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.
The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.
At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.
He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.
He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.
“Show me your wrist,” he says.
You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.
His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.
It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.
He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.
You do, of course. What other choice do you have?
*
The next several hours are a blur.
You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?
It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.
You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.
You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.
You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.
They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.
You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.
You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.
You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.
*
It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.
You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.
“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.
“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.
He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.
“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.
*
You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.
Or that was your plan, anyway.
Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.
The room is much colder at night.
You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.
You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.
You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.
But you also have to pee.
You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.
The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.
Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.
Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.
“Come to bed,” Loki says.
You clear your throat. “What?”
“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”
You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.
You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.
You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.
“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.
“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.
You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”
He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.
You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.
He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.
And after a while, yours does, too.
*
Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.
It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.
It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.
But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.
But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.
You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.
“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.
God fucking dammit.
You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.
“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.
He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.
“It won’t happen again,” you say.
It does.
This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.
But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.
Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.
The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.
The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.
This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.
You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.
You open a private browser window and pull up Google.
Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.
The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.
You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.
But only nearly and only for now.
*
The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.
Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.
You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.
Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.
When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.
The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.
The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.
Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.
But not yet. Not yet.
*
Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.
You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.
You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.
The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.
You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.
“You were calling out in your sleep.”
More heat prickles at your skin.
“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.
“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.
He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”
He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”
You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?
He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky.
“You flatter yourself,” you say.
You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”
Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”
Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.
“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.
“Nothing,” you say.
He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”
You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.
“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.
Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.
“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”
Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.
“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”
You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.
The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.
You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.
You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.
There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.
You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.
“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”
You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”
He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.
You barely manage a breathy affirmative.
“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”
“Please,” you breathe.
“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”
“Don’t stop,” you say.
“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”
You nod, slack jawed and panting.
“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”
You whimper, your hips rocking.
“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.
“I need to come,” you moan.
“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”
A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”
His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.
“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.
“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.
His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”
You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”
He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”
“Is it working?” you ask.
He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”
You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core.
You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”
Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”
You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.
“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.
“Don’t you dare,” he growls.
You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”
“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”
Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”
His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.
“Good girl,” he says.
And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.
You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.
You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.
You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.
The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.
“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.
You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.
So close.
“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”
You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.
Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.
It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.
He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.
“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.
“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”
It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.
“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”
He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.
Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.
Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.
He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature.
Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.
You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.
“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.
“Will you show me?” you ask.
“Every day,” he says.
It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.
He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.
You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.
But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.
“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.
You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.
Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.
You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.
But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.
Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.
“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”
There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.
“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”
You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.
“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”
You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.
In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.
“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”
A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.
You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter.
A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”
You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”
It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.
The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long.
As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.
“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”
“Getting close,” you breathe.
“I know, I can feel you,” he says.
You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.
“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.
It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.
He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss. He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.
“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”
You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.
“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”
He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.
“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.
Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.
“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.
You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.
“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”
You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”
Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.
Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.
His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.
You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.
Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.
For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.
#loki smut#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#loki imagine#loki x you#loki fanfic#loki x yn#loki x female reader smut#loki x female reader#loki x reader smut#loki laufeyson smut#loki fanfiction
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the way you said hello - kim mingyu
member | executive chef!mingyu x reader (ft. jeonghan & seungkwan)
genre | (implied) soulmates!au, meet cute, strangers to lovers au, fluff, (angst if you rlly rlly rlly squint)
word count | 2.8k
synopsis | after a disastrous blind date, the night takes an unexpected turn when the restaurant’s handsome owner, mingyu, steps in. what starts as an act of kindness quickly becomes something more as sparks fly over a chance meeting
warnings | cursing, lowk kinda suggestive if you squint, kissing, one (1) mention of a knife, mentions of mingyu having previous injuries sustained from his occupation, there is a SIGNIFICANT time skip at the end but i don't specify how much LMAO that's up to ygs discretion
notes | requested by anon! i'm so sorry if this wasn't the direction you wanted it to go in 😭 i swear i tried my best! lowk don't know if i like this or not but i really liked the bickering between oc n seunghan NOT PROOFREAD
this can be read as a stand-alone or as a sequel to this mingyu fic!
You anxiously bounced your leg under the table, gently gnawing on your bottom lip as you glanced around the fancy restaurant. Across from you, the chair in front of you had now been empty for an awfully long time now and something told you that your blind date had ditched, leaving you with the incredibly overwhelming and taxing bill.
Fuck.
You rested your head in your hands and let out a tired sigh. There was no way this was happening.
As you reached for your wallet, you flagged down a nearby waiter to ask for the bill. He nodded at your request and you let out what seemed to the umpteenth sigh of that night. While waiting for the bill to reach your table, you began rearranging the leftover peas on your porcelain plate.
“Didn’t know we had a Picasso in the house.” An unfamiliar voice remarked next to you.
You yelped in surprise and whipped around to see a tall, handsome young man peering over your shoulder with an amused smile. He was in a black button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his prominent forearm muscles, tucked into a pair of dark trousers. “That’s very impressive… is that a self-portrait?”
You snorted in disbelief, your shoulders shaking as you let out a quiet laugh. “No, it’s supposed to be my date. Too bad they left before I could remember what they looked like.”
The mysterious man scrunched up his handsome face, as if to say ‘Ouch’. “Do you mind if I—?” He gestured towards the empty seat in front of you and you nodded.
“Go ahead. That seat’s going to be empty for the rest of the night anyways.” You let out a bitter laugh. He gave you a sympathetic smile and situated himself in front of you with an arm outstretched reaching over the table.
“Kim Mingyu. I’m the owner and executive chef of this restaurant. I received a report that there was an attractive young person who was left on their lonesome after their date mysteriously disappeared.” The man, Mingyu, tilted his head. “Didn’t think said person was going to be this attractive though.”
You blushed at his compliment as you shook his hand. “[Name]. Not sure who snitched on me, though I’m glad to have new company.”
“Are you… on your way out now? Since your date is gone?”
“Yes, I’m just waiting for the bill.”
Mingyu waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
After spilling coffee on your blouse this morning and running 30 minutes late for work, you were more than positive that the day was going to end in disaster. The disappearance of your blind date following a very long, tiring day at work only confirmed those suspicions. However, it seemed like that the goddess of luck was no longer hellbent on making your life a living disaster with the way the stranger sitting across from you managed to douse out the fire that had been burning within you for the past few hours with a single smile.
“I’m afraid I’m not. But if you feel pressured or aren’t comfortable with it, no worries!” Mingyu said lightheartedly.
“Oh my God,” You ran a tired hand through your face and let out a dry, incredulous laugh. “You literally just saved me from having the worst day ever. I was preparing myself to break down into tears once I received the check. Thank you, I really appreciate that.”
He smiled at your words. “Of course, just doing my daily random act of kindness for a stranger. Although…” He trailed off and you quirked an inquisitive brow at him.
“Although?” You asked.
“Although… would it appall you if I said it was my way of shooting my shot?” Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. His eyes nervously darted back and forth between your face and the half-eaten plate in front of him, left by your crappy blind date who was honestly, no longer in your realm of attention. Not when Mingyu was in front of you.
Shooting his shot? You felt your cheeks burn at a temperature similar to the candle perched on a candelabra on your table at his words and you coughed before fumbling to find the right words.
“I mean… I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Since you’re my savior tonight and all…” Your voice faltered and Mingyu beamed.
“That’s great! Here’s my business card, if you ever want to contact me.” He pulled out a crisp card and handed it to you as he got up from the chair. “Well, I must be getting on my way now. I’d love to stay and chat but I have big boss duties to do.”
Mingyu tipped an imaginary top hat towards your direction. You smiled. “It was nice meeting you, [Name].”
“It was nice meeting you too, Mingyu. I’ll contact you,” You waved his business card and he nodded.
“I’ll be looking forward to it. Bye, [Name].”
And with that he was gone, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his perfume and the fluttering of your heart.
“Just call him!!” Your best friend urged you. He was sitting on the other end of the sofa, munching on a bag of chips as he watched you metaphorically rip your hair out over the business card you received from Mingyu a week ago.
“It’s not that simple, Seungkwan! What if he hates me now because it took me so long to contact him? I bet he’s forgotten about me at this point.” You pouted and continued to stare at the worn, but still elaborate cardstock in your hands.
Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re overthinking this entire thing. Listen to me,” He paused to fix his posture to face you. “He gave you the business card, right?”
You nodded.
“Did he ask for your number?”
You shook your head.
“Did he receive any kind of contact information from you?”
You shook your head again.
“But he gave you his business card? [Name], he literally served you the ball on a silver platter. He’s interested in you but won’t make any moves unless you do. The ball is in your court. Take that damn ball and BOUNCE IT!”
Seungkwan let out a frustrated yell and shoved another handful of chips into his mouth. “I swear, you have the IQ of Jeonghan’s pet rock sometimes.”
“Hey! Doljjong is very intelligent!” Your other best friend yelled from the kitchen. “He has really good hearing too, so don’t insult him like that or else you’ll be dealing with me.”
Seungkwan rolled his eyes and you laughed as Jeonghan came out into the living room to give his own two cents.
“But Seungkwan’s right. The entire fate of a whole new possible relationship with this mythical Kim Mingyu—”
“HE’S REAL. I SHOOK HIS HAND.”
“—is in your hands. Don’t blow it. Or else me and Seungkwan—”
“Seungkwan and I.” You corrected him.
“—will be—Okay, fuck you, grammar police—Will be taking this matter into our own hands so we no longer have to hear your bitching and whining.”
You let out a frustrated groan and threw down the business card that’s been putting you through pain and misery through the past week.
“God, he was literally perfect. I don’t wanna blow it and—”
“That’s what they said.”
“Jeonghan, I’m going to literally throw Doljjong into the bottom of Han River and you’re going to be joining him soon after if you don’t shut the fuck up.”
Seungkwan burst into laughter and watched you and Jeonghan continue to argue back and forth.
“Forget it, it’s useless talking to a person who believes that a rock can be a pet.” You got up from your spot on the couch and reached for your phone. “I’m stepping out for some air. Lock the door if you leave before I come back.”
“See ya, don’t wanna be ya!” Jeonghan yelled from the living room as you left the house and you loudly groaned.
You loved both your best friends but they sometimes drove you absolutely insane.
The sky was dark but the countless lights from the skyscrapers and streetlights illuminated the Han River, making the surface twinkle and shine under the pale moonlight.
You were sitting on a lone bench, facing the river as you mindlessly fidgeted with Mingyu’s business card. The edges were fraying from the countless amount of times you’ve handled it between your fingertips, and you traced the black lettering of Mingyu’s name with your index finger as you silently sounded out every vowel and consonant of his name.
Seungkwan’s words rang in your head. ‘He literally served you the ball on a silver platter. He’s interested in you but won’t make any moves unless you do. The ball is in your court. Take that damn ball and BOUNCE IT!’
Like a switch was suddenly flipped inside you, you reached for your phone. The screen lit up and you pulled up a new message to type in the phone number that was written on the card in your hand.
Without a single thought, you sent,
hey! it’s [name]!
Before you could even type the first letter of your follow-up text, the status of your message changed from ‘Delivered’ to ‘Read 21:24’ and you let out a gasp.
And then the loud, shrill ringing of your ringtone cut through the peaceful night air.
You gasped louder than before after seeing the caller ID, reaching to frantically turn off the ringer before answering the phone.
“He–hello?”
“Took you long enough,” Mingyu’s voice sounded crisp and clear on the other end of the line. You couldn’t see him, but you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “You almost had me thinking that you were ghosting me or something.”
You let out an apologetic groan. “I’m so sorry, Mingyu. I got in my head and kept putting it off. I swear it wasn’t personal…”
Mingyu’s laugh was bright. “No worries! I assumed you had your hands full. Although, I did jump a little every time I received a text from anyone from the past week.”
“Oh, man… I feel horrible. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m telling you, don’t worry about it! Better late than never, right?” There was an awkward moment of silence before he spoke again. “What are you up to right now?”
You hummed and looked out at the tranquil water of the Han River reflecting the bright lights of the city. “Nothing much. I stepped out for a minute for some air. What about you?”
“Oh, really? I’m actually out for a walk too.” You swore you heard a second voice near you, echoing the words Mingyu was saying in your phone. “Turn around for me?”
You whipped around with the phone still pressed to your ear to see Mingyu standing behind the bench, a small smile playing on his lips. You ended the phone call.
“Mingyu?”
“‘Morning, sunshine,” He slid into the empty spot next to you and you scooched over to make more room for him. “What a way to run into the guy you’ve been ghosting, huh?”
You snorted at his greeting, ignoring the slight burn you felt in your cheeks from the nickname he had addressed you by. “I told you, it wasn’t intentional.”
Mingyu grinned. “I know. Just felt like teasing you.”
“What are- what are you doing here though? Do you live in this area?” You asked. He nodded.
“Yeah. I moved into that apartment complex not too long ago,” He pointed to a tall building on the other side of the river. “Has a killer night view. You should come over to check it out sometime.”
You choked on your spit, resulting in you barking out a short, panicked laugh. “Do you—-do you usually say these… these things to people?”
“No, not really. I’m not usually like this,” Mingyu looked over at you with a slight tilt in his head. The night breeze brushed his bangs across his forehead and you felt your breath falter at the way the closest streetlight illuminated his honey-like, gorgeous skin.There was a particular glint in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak again. “Pardon me if this is too brazen, but I’m only like this when I feel like I’ve met the one. My soulmate.”
Your breath was caught in your throat.
“Does it… usually work?” You choked out. Your face felt incredibly hot and your clammy hands were sticking to the bench.
Mingyu turned back to face the river and your stomach did an odd flip. “I’m not sure. You tell me.”
Oh God. You thought you were melting on the spot with the way he was looking at you. Mingyu was holding eye contact with such intensity, you physically couldn’t look away. Your heart hammered wildly against your ribcage and you decided you were going to sign yourself up for the upcoming Olympics, with the way your stomach was doing flips like an Olympic gymnast. Simone Biles had nothing on whatever routine was going on inside you right now.
“… I’d give it a solid 8 out of 10.” You gave him the most nonchalant shrug you could afford, knowing that there were enough butterflies in your stomach to start a butterfly conservatory. Mingyu looked at you as if he was surprised by the score.
“Really? What would I have to do to win back the last two points?”
You gave him a pointed look, and the next words to leave your mouth almost sent you into cardiac arrest. “Hmm… live up to your words? I guess?”
And the smile Mingyu gave you in that moment was the brightest one of all. His entire being seemed to glow in ecstasy, glowing brighter than the streetlights as he looked at you with a suggestive glint in his eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Mingyu?” You called from the living room. Mingyu didn’t respond and the only thing you heard from the kitchen was the clattering of plates and silverware. “Babe?”
Pushing yourself off the couch with a quiet groan, you padded over to the kitchen where your fiancé was busying himself with preparing dinner. He was hunched over the counter, his hands and trusty knife busy at work as he chopped away on his chopping block. Careful not to startle him when he had a knife in his hand, you snuck your arms around Mingyu’s torso and peered over his shoulder to watch him work his magic.
“Watcha doing?” You asked sweetly. Mingyu acknowledged your presence with a short peck on your forehead.
“Hi, baby.” His voice was rough and the sound sent shivers down your spine. “Preparing to feed you. Why?”
You hummed and nuzzled your face into Mingyu’s back. He smelled like a mix of spices, sweat, and his faint woody cologne permeated your senses. “Do you think we’re soulmates?”
Mingyu set down his knife and turned around to face you, his back resting against the marble counter with his hands resting comfortably at your waist.
“What’s with the sudden question?” He quirked a well-groomed brow at you and you smiled.
“Nothing… I just read a blog about soulmates and I was curious about whether you thought they were real,” Your fingers danced along Mingyu’s strong, muscular forearms, your fingertips lightly tracing all the old scars and burn marks that signified his experience and years spent working to master his craft. You repeated your original question again. “So… do you think we’re soulmates?”
Mingyu leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I don’t think so, love. I know so.”
“Really?” Your eyes brightened at his words and he nodded.
“Mhm. I knew from the moment I saw you playing with those leftover peas on your plate that I was going to marry you,” Mingyu leaned in again, nuzzling his nose against yours. You giggled. “Sometimes, I have dreams where I knew you in another life. But those dreams felt so… real. Like they’re fragments of memories from a past I can’t recall.”
“Are we married in those dreams too?”
“Mhm. We were happily married, just like we’re going to be.” Mingyu captured your lips with his, sighing gently as your fingers combed through his dark hair.
“I love you, Mingyu.” You whispered against his lips, like a secret only meant for the two of you to know. Something to be taken and hidden away, kept a secret in the deepest depths of the earth. A secret so sacred, it can only be cherished in the deepest, darkest places so that no one else can know.
“I love you too, [Name],” Mingyu’s love confession was more bold. Something he uttered with purpose and intention. He wanted the entire universe to know that he was yours. His heart belonged to you. He was going to love you loudly and boldly. “I’ll love you in every universe. Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow.”
reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^
a/n: this is a big personal FUCK YOU to writer's block AHGJSJD i somehow managed to push through and finish this 😭 (it was at 300 words when i started today) albeit it was on my phone, in the dark, at 1 in the morning BUT I FINISHED IT. n now my insomnia's back LMAOO
#hannyoontify.works#seventeen#svt#mingyu#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#mingyu oneshot#mingyu x reader#mingyu fluff#mingyu seventeen#mingyu imagines#svt imagines#svt x reader#svt fluff#svt mingyu#seventeen mingyu#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic#svt angst#seventeen angst#mingyu angst
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In Another Life
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)
Rome, 79 AD
The bustling streets of Rome pulse with life as you make your way through the crowded forum. The scent of fresh bread and roasted meat wafts through the air, mingling with the chatter of merchants and citizens going about their daily business. You adjust your stola, the flowing garment feeling unusually constricting today as you hurry towards the Temple of Venus.
“Watch where you’re going!” A gruff voice shouts as you accidentally bump into a burly man carrying an amphora.
“My apologies,” you mutter, quickening your pace. Your heart races, not from the near-collision, but from anticipation. You’re running late for your clandestine meeting with Charles, the young patrician who has captured your heart.
As you approach the temple, you spot him pacing nervously at the base of the steps. His toga gleams white in the afternoon sun and his usually perfectly coiffed hair is slightly disheveled, as if he’s been running his hands through it anxiously.
“There you are!” Charles exclaims as you draw near. His face breaks into a relieved smile, and he reaches for your hands. “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t come.”
You can’t help but return his smile, your earlier stress melting away. “As if I could stay away,” you tease, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “Though I must say, your choice of meeting place is rather bold. The Temple of Venus? Are you trying to tell me something?”
He laughs, a warm, rich sound that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. “Perhaps I’m simply hoping the goddess will smile upon us,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “After all, we could use all the divine favor we can get.”
Your smile falters slightly at his words, reality creeping back in. “Have you spoken with your father?” You ask, unable to keep the worry from your voice.
Charles’ expression grows serious. “I have,” he says, leading you to a secluded corner of the temple grounds. “He’s ... not pleased, to say the least. He still insists on the marriage to Claudia.”
You feel a pang in your chest at the mention of Charles’ intended bride. “And what did you tell him?”
“The truth,” Charles replies firmly. “That my heart belongs to you and I won’t marry another.”
Your breath catches in your throat. “Charles,” you whisper, “you know the consequences-”
He cuts you off, cupping your face in his hands. “I don’t care about the consequences. I love you, Y/N. I won’t let my father’s ambitions or society’s expectations keep us apart.”
You lean into his touch, torn between elation and fear. “But your family, your position ... you’d lose everything.”
“Not everything,” Charles insists. “I’d have you. That’s all that matters.”
You’re about to respond when a commotion near the temple entrance catches your attention. Your blood runs cold as you spot Charles’ father, Senator Leclerc, striding towards you, flanked by several burly slaves.
“Charles!” The senator bellows, his face contorted with rage. “Step away from that girl at once!”
Charles instinctively moves to shield you. “Father, please,” he begins, but the senator cuts him off.
“Silence! You shame our family with this ... this dalliance. I won’t stand for it any longer.”
You feel Charles tense beside you. “It’s not a dalliance, Father. I love her.”
The senator’s face grows even redder. “Love? You know nothing of love, boy. You have a duty to your family, to Rome. I won’t let you throw it all away for some common girl.”
“She’s not common,” Charles argues, his voice rising. “She’s extraordinary, and I won’t let you or anyone speak ill of her.”
The tension in the air is palpable as father and son face off. You want to intervene, to de-escalate the situation, but you’re frozen in place, your heart pounding.
Suddenly, one of the senator’s slaves moves forward, reaching for Charles. Without thinking, you step between them. “Don’t touch him!” You cry out.
Everything happens in a blur. The slave’s hand connects with your shoulder, shoving you back. You stumble, your foot catching on the hem of your stola. Time seems to slow as you feel yourself falling, tumbling down the temple steps.
“Y/N!” Charles’ anguished cry is the last thing you hear before pain explodes through your body and the world goes dark.
You drift in and out of consciousness, aware of frantic voices and the sensation of being carried. Charles’ face swims into view, streaked with tears.
“Stay with me, love,” he pleads, his voice cracking. “Please, don’t leave me.”
You try to speak, to reassure him, but no words come. The pain is fading now, replaced by a strange numbness. You manage to lift a hand to Charles’ cheek, wanting to wipe away his tears.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I love you, Charles. In this life and the next.”
As darkness closes in, your last thought is a desperate hope that someday, somehow, you’ll find each other again.
Genoa, 1348
The acrid smell of smoke and death hangs heavy in the air as Charles makes his way through the narrow, winding streets. His eyes water, both from the stench and the unshed tears he’s been holding back for days. The plague has ravaged the city, leaving behind a trail of devastation and despair.
Charles pulls his cloth mask tighter over his nose and mouth, though he knows it’s likely futile. He’s a physician, one of the few brave — or foolish — enough to still tend to the sick. But today, he’s not seeking out patients. He’s searching for you.
“Y/N!” He calls out, his voice muffled by the mask. “Y/N, where are you?”
A nearby door creaks open, and a haggard face peers out. “Keep your voice down, fool,” the old woman hisses. “You’ll bring the afflicted running.”
Charles ignores her, pressing on. His heart races with each step, fear and hope warring within him. He hasn’t seen you in days, not since you left to care for your ailing aunt. The memory of your parting plays in his mind, as vivid as if it were happening now.
“I have to go,” you had said, your eyes filled with determination and fear. “She has no one else.”
He had tried to dissuade you. “It’s too dangerous. The plague-”
“I know the risks,” you’d cut him off. “But I can’t abandon her. You’d do the same if it were your family.”
He couldn’t argue with that. It was one of the things he loved most about you — your unwavering compassion, even in the face of danger.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he’d pleaded, pulling you close. “Promise me you’ll come back to me.”
You’d kissed him then, soft and sweet. “I promise. Nothing could keep me from you, my love. Not even death itself.”
Now, as he rounds another corner, Charles clings to that promise like a lifeline. “Y/N!” He calls again, desperation creeping into his voice.
Suddenly, he spots a familiar figure stumbling down the street. His heart leaps. “Y/N!”
You turn at the sound of his voice, and Charles feels his world tilt on its axis. Your face is pale, your eyes glassy with fever. As he watches in horror, you collapse to the ground.
“No, no, no,” Charles mutters, rushing to your side. He gathers you in his arms, his physician’s training warring with his lover’s panic. “Y/N, can you hear me? Open your eyes, love.”
Your eyelids flutter, and you manage a weak smile. “Charles,” you whisper. “You found me.”
“Of course I found you,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ll always find you. Now, let’s get you home and take care of you.”
You shake your head slightly. “No, it’s too late. The plague-”
“Don’t say that,” Charles interrupts fiercely. “It’s not too late. I’m a physician, remember? I’ll cure you. I have to.”
Despite your condition, you manage a soft laugh. “My stubborn love. Always fighting the impossible.”
Charles lifts you gently, cradling you against his chest. “Nothing’s impossible when it comes to you,” he insists, starting the journey back to his home. “We’ve overcome so much already. Remember when we first met? You were convinced a lowly apprentice physician could never court a merchant’s daughter.”
You smile at the memory. “And you were determined to prove me wrong.”
“Which I did,” Charles says, a hint of his old cockiness creeping into his voice. “Rather spectacularly, if I recall correctly.”
“Mmm, yes,” you murmur. “That night under the stars, when you recited all those ridiculous poems ...”
Charles chuckles. “They weren’t ridiculous. They were romantic.”
“They were terrible,” you counter weakly. “But your heart was in the right place.”
As they near Charles’ home, your breathing becomes more labored. Fear claws at Charles’ chest, but he forces it down. “Stay with me, love,” he pleads. “We’re almost there.”
Once inside, Charles lays you gently on the bed. He works tirelessly, applying every treatment and remedy he knows. Hours blur together as he fights against the inevitable, refusing to give up hope.
But as night falls, he can no longer deny the truth. The plague is winning and he’s powerless to stop it.
“Charles,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “It’s time to let go.”
He shakes his head vehemently, tears streaming down his face. “No, I can’t. I won’t lose you again.”
Your brow furrows in confusion. “Again?”
Charles pauses, unsure where that thought came from. “I ... I don’t know. It just feels like I’ve lost you before, somehow.”
You manage a small smile. “Perhaps in another life,” you muse. “But in this one, we found each other. We loved. That’s what matters.”
“It’s not enough,” Charles insists, his voice breaking. “We were supposed to have more time. We were going to get married, have children, grow old together.”
“We’ll have that chance,” you say with surprising conviction. “If not in this life, then in the next. Our souls are bound, Charles. I feel it. This isn’t the end for us.”
Charles wants to believe you, but the grief is overwhelming. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know our love,” you reply, reaching up to touch his face. “It’s stronger than death, stronger than time itself. We’ll find each other again, my love. I promise.”
As your hand falls away, your eyes close for the last time. Charles pulls you close, his body wracked with sobs. “I’ll find you,” he vows through his tears. “In this life or the next, I’ll always find you.”
Days pass in a haze of grief and determination. Charles throws himself into treating the sick with renewed vigor, heedless of the risk to himself. And when the telltale symptoms begin to appear — the fever, the chills, the aching limbs — he faces them without fear.
As he lies in his sickbed, Charles’ thoughts are only of you. “I’m coming, my love,” he whispers to the empty room. “Wait for me.”
His last conscious thought is a fervent hope that somehow, somewhere, you’ll be reunited once more.
Paris, 1789
The streets of Paris echo with the sound of angry voices and marching feet as Charles makes his way through the city’s winding alleys. His heart races, not from the exertion of his hurried pace, but from the fear of what’s to come. The revolution has begun in earnest, and his world is crumbling around him.
“Charles!” Your voice cuts through the chaos, and he turns to see you running towards him, your skirts hiked up to allow for faster movement. “Thank God I found you. We have to go, now!”
He grabs your hand, pulling you into a shadowy doorway. “Y/N, what are you doing here? It’s not safe!”
You cup his face in your hands, your eyes blazing with determination. “I couldn’t leave without you. The mob is heading for your family’s estate. We need to get you out of the city.”
Charles feels a rush of love for you, even as fear grips his heart. You, a baker’s daughter, risking everything to save him. “And what of you? Your family?”
“They’re safe,” you assure him. “Papa closed the bakery and they’ve gone to stay with relatives in the countryside. But you ... Charles, they’ll kill you if they find you.”
He knows you’re right. His family name, once a source of pride, is now a death sentence. “Where can we go?” He asks, his mind racing.
“I have a plan,” you say, tugging him back into the street. “There’s a farmer who owes my father a favor. He’s agreed to hide us until we can secure passage to England.”
As you hurry through the streets, the sounds of the mob grow louder. Charles can’t help but look back, his heart heavy with the knowledge of what he’s leaving behind.
“Charles, focus,” you urge, squeezing his hand. “We’re almost there.”
Suddenly, a group of revolutionaries rounds the corner ahead of you. Their eyes lock onto Charles, recognition dawning on their faces.
“Aristocrat!” One of them shouts, pointing an accusing finger. “Seize him!”
“Run!” Charles yells, pulling you in the opposite direction. You flee hand-in-hand, weaving through the narrow streets as shouts and footsteps echo behind you.
“This way,” you pant, yanking him down an alley. “I know a shortcut.”
You lead him through a maze of backstreets, the angry voices growing fainter. Just as Charles begins to hope you’ve lost them, you emerge onto a main road … and straight into the path of another group of revolutionaries.
“Halt!” A burly man with a tricolor sash shouts, leveling a musket at Charles.
Charles pushes you behind him, shielding you with his body. “Please,” he says, raising his hands. “We mean no harm. We’re just trying to leave the city.”
The man’s eyes narrow. “You’re Leclerc’s boy, aren’t you? The one who’s been helping nobles escape?”
Charles feels you stiffen behind him. He’d kept his activities secret, even from you, to keep you safe. But now ...
“Yes,” he admits, straightening his spine. “I’ve been helping innocent people escape persecution. If that’s a crime, then I’m guilty.”
The man’s face twists with rage. “Traitor to the revolution!” He spits. “You’ll pay for your crimes against the people!”
As the man raises his musket, time seems to slow. Charles is acutely aware of your rapid breathing behind him, of the sweat beading on his brow, of the hammering of his heart.
“No!” You cry out, trying to push past Charles. “Please, he’s a good man! He’s helped people, saved lives!”
“Y/N, don’t,” Charles pleads, holding you back. He turns to face you, drinking in the sight of your face, committing every detail to memory. “I love you,” he says softly. “In this life and the next.”
The words trigger a flash of memory — or is it déjà vu? Charles has a sudden feeling that he’s said those words before, in another time, another place.
The moment is shattered by the deafening crack of the musket firing. Charles feels a searing pain in his chest, and then he’s falling, the world tilting sideways.
“Charles!” You anguished scream seems to come from far away. He feels your arms around him, cradling his head in your lap. “No, no, no. Stay with me, my love. Please!”
Charles tries to speak, but only a wet cough comes out. He can taste blood in his mouth. The pain is fading now, replaced by a spreading numbness.
“I’m sorry,” he manages to whisper. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
Tears stream down your face as you bend over him. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re a hero, Charles. My hero.”
He wants to tell you how much he loves you, how meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to him. But the darkness is closing in, and he can feel himself slipping away.
As his eyes flutter closed, Charles has a strange sensation of déjà vu. He sees flashes of other lives — ancient Rome, plague-ridden Genoa — where he loved you and lost you. Or did you lose him?
With his last breath, Charles makes a silent vow. Somehow, someway, he’ll find you again. In the next life, you’ll get it right. You have to.
The world fades to black, but Charles isn’t afraid. He knows this isn’t the end. It’s just another beginning.
You hold Charles’ lifeless body, your sobs echoing in the suddenly quiet street. The revolutionaries stand awkwardly, some looking ashamed, others defiant.
“What have you done?” You cry out, your voice raw with grief and anger. “He was a good man! He helped people!”
The man with the musket shifts uncomfortably. “He was an aristocrat,” he mutters, but there’s less conviction in his voice now.
You look up at him, your eyes blazing through your tears. “He was a human being,” you say fiercely. “And you murdered him.”
As the reality of what they’ve done sinks in, the crowd begins to disperse. You’re left alone with Charles, cradling his body in the middle of the street.
“I’ll find you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “In the next life, my love. I promise we’ll be together again.”
As night falls over Paris, you sit vigil over Charles’ body, your heart broken but your spirit undefeated. Somewhere deep inside, you know this isn’t the end of your story. It’s just another chapter in a love that spans lifetimes.
London, 1942
The steady tick of the clock on the mantle seems to echo through the small London flat as you pace anxiously, your eyes darting to the window every few seconds. The air raid sirens have been silent for days, but the tension in the city remains palpable. It’s been weeks since you’ve heard from Charles, and the knot of worry in your stomach grows tighter with each passing day.
A sharp knock at the door makes you jump. Your heart races as you rush to answer it, hope and fear warring within you. But instead of Charles’ warm smile, you’re met with the solemn face of his fellow RAF pilot, James.
“James,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. “What is it? What’s happened?”
James removes his cap, twisting it in his hands. “May I come in? I’m afraid I have some news about Charles.”
The world seems to tilt on its axis as you step back, allowing James to enter. You lead him to the small sitting room, your movements mechanical, as if you’re watching yourself from a distance.
“Please,” you say, gesturing to a chair. “Sit down and tell me everything.”
James perches on the edge of the armchair, his discomfort palpable. “There’s no easy way to say this. Charles’ plane was shot down over the Channel three days ago. We ... we haven’t found any survivors.”
The words hit you like a physical blow, driving the air from your lungs. “No,” you whisper, shaking your head. “No, that can’t be right. Charles is too good a pilot. He promised he’d come back to me.”
James leans forward, his eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Charles was one of the best pilots I’ve ever known, but the Jerries caught us by surprise. There was nothing he could do.”
You sink onto the sofa, your legs suddenly unable to support you. “Tell me what happened,” you demand, your voice stronger than you feel. “I need to know everything.”
James nods, taking a deep breath. “We were on a routine patrol over the Channel. Everything seemed quiet, and then suddenly the sky was full of Messerschmitts. They came out of nowhere, diving out of the sun.”
He pauses, running a hand through his hair. “Charles ... he was incredible. He managed to take down two of them before they could even react. But there were just too many of them.”
You close your eyes, picturing Charles in the cockpit of his Spitfire, his face set with determination as he faced impossible odds. It’s an image that both comforts and devastates you.
“I saw his plane take a hit,” James continues, his voice rough with emotion. “He was trying to draw their fire away from the rest of us. The last thing I heard over the radio was him saying, ‘Tell Y/N I love her. In this life and the next.’”
A sob escapes you at those words, so achingly familiar. “He’s said that before,” you murmur, more to yourself than to James.
“I’m sorry?” James asks, leaning closer.
You shake your head, unsure how to explain the strange sense of déjà vu. “It’s nothing. Please, go on.”
James nods, though he looks at you curiously. “His plane went down fast after that. We searched for hours, but with the weather and the waves ...” He trails off, leaving the grim implication hanging in the air.
“So there’s still a chance?” You ask, clinging to a shred of hope. “If you didn’t find ... if there’s no body, he could still be out there, right?”
The pity in James’ eyes is almost unbearable. “Y/N, I know it’s hard to accept, but the chances of survival in those conditions ... it would take a miracle.”
You stand abruptly, pacing the small room. “Then I’ll believe in miracles,” you declare fiercely. “Charles is strong, and he’s a survivor. He wouldn’t leave me, not like this.”
James rises, reaching out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I understand. Charles spoke of you often, you know. He loved you more than anything in this world.”
“Loves,” you correct him sharply. “He loves me. Present tense.”
James nods, not arguing. “Of course. I’m sorry, I should go. Is there anything you need? Anyone I can call for you?”
You shake your head, suddenly desperate to be alone. “No, thank you. I just ... I need some time.”
As you show James out, he pauses at the door. “Charles was more than just my commanding officer. He was my friend. If you need anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
You manage a weak smile. “Thank you, James. That means a lot.”
As the door closes behind him, the flat seems to grow impossibly quiet. You lean against the wall, feeling as though you might shatter into a million pieces at any moment.
Your eyes fall on a framed photograph of Charles, taken just before he left for his last mission. His smile is radiant, his eyes full of life and love. You pick up the frame, tracing his features with a trembling finger.
“You promised,” you whisper to the image. “You promised you’d come back to me.”
A memory surfaces, unbidden. Charles, laughing as he spun you around in the park on your first date. “You know,” he had said, his eyes twinkling, “I have the strangest feeling I’ve known you forever.”
You had felt it too, that inexplicable sense of familiarity, of coming home. “Maybe we knew each other in a past life,” you had joked.
Charles had grown serious then, cupping your face in his hands. “If that’s true,” he had said softly, “then I’m certain I loved you just as much then as I do now.”
The memory is too much. Your knees buckle, and you sink to the floor, still clutching the photograph to your chest. Sobs wrack your body as the full weight of your loss crashes over you.
“Come back to me,” you plead between gasping breaths. “Please, Charles. Find me again. In this life or the next, just find me.”
As you kneel there, lost in your grief, a strange calm settles over you. Deep in your soul, you feel a certainty that this isn’t the end. Somehow, someway, you and Charles will find each other again.
You have to believe it. It’s the only thing that will get you through the long, dark nights ahead.
Berlin, 1961
The cold November air bites at Charles’ face as he paces along the western side of the Berlin Wall, his breath forming small clouds in the dim light of dawn. His eyes scan the imposing concrete barrier, searching for any sign of movement on the other side. He checks his watch for the hundredth time, willing the minutes to pass faster.
“Come on, Y/N,” he mutters under his breath. “Where are you?”
As if in answer to his plea, a small pebble arcs over the wall, landing at his feet. Charles’ heart leaps as he bends to retrieve it, unfolding the small piece of paper wrapped around it.
I’m here, the note reads in your familiar handwriting. Same spot. Be careful.
Charles moves quickly to a section of the wall where a drain pipe creates a small blind spot from the watchtowers. He pulls out a compact mirror, angling it to catch a glimpse of the other side.
“Y/N,” he whispers urgently. “Can you hear me?”
“Charles!” Your voice comes back, barely audible. “Thank God. I was worried you wouldn’t come.”
“I’ll always come for you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you alright? Did anyone follow you?”
“I’m fine,” you assure him. “I was careful. But Charles, we don’t have much time. They’re planning to move me to Moscow next week. This might be our last chance.”
Charles feels his stomach drop. “Moscow? No, we can’t let that happen. We have to get you out of there tonight.”
“How?” You ask, a note of desperation in your voice. “The security has been tightened since the last escape attempt. There are patrols everywhere.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair, his mind racing. “I have a contact in the American sector. He might be able to help. But Y/N, it’s risky. If we’re caught ...”
“I know,” you interrupt. “But I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t keep pretending to be loyal to a system I despise. And I can’t bear to be separated from you any longer.”
His heart swells at your words. “I feel the same way. Okay, listen carefully. Meet me back here at midnight. Wear dark clothes and bring only what you can carry in a small bag. I’ll have everything else ready on this side.”
“Midnight,” you repeat. “I’ll be here. Charles ... I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says softly. “More than you could ever know. Be safe, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.”
As Charles turns to leave, he’s struck by a sudden, overwhelming sense of déjà vu. He’s had this feeling before when talking to you, as if your souls have known each other across lifetimes. Shaking off the strange thought, he hurries away to set the plan in motion.
The hours crawl by as Charles makes preparations. He meets with his American contact, secures false documents, and plots the safest route to the western sector. As night falls, he returns to the wall, his nerves on edge.
Midnight comes and goes. Charles waits, every muscle tense, straining to hear any sound from the other side. Five minutes pass. Then ten.
“Y/N?” He whispers urgently. “Are you there?”
Silence answers him. Charles feels panic rising in his chest. Something’s wrong.
Suddenly, the night is shattered by the sound of shouting and dogs barking. Floodlights blaze to life on the eastern side of the wall.
“No,” Charles breathes, horror washing over him. “Y/N!”
He presses himself against the wall, desperate to hear something, anything. The chaos on the other side grows louder. Then, cutting through it all, he hears your voice.
“Charles!” You cry out. “Charles, help me!”
Without thinking, Charles begins to climb the wall, heedless of the danger. He has to get to you, has to save you.
“Stop right there!” A gruff voice shouts in German. Charles freezes, realizing he’s been spotted by a guard on the western side.
“Please,” Charles begs in German, “You don’t understand. There’s someone over there who needs help. I have to-”
His words are cut off by the sharp crack of gunfire from the eastern side. Charles’ blood runs cold.
“Y/N!” He screams, no longer caring who hears him. “Y/N, answer me!”
But there’s no response. The night falls eerily quiet, broken only by the sound of hurried orders being given in Russian.
Charles slumps against the wall, his mind refusing to accept what his heart already knows. You’re gone. He was too late.
Hours pass in a blur. Charles remains by the wall, numb with grief and shock. As dawn breaks, he hears someone approaching from the western side.
“Mr. Leclerc?” A voice says softly. It’s his American contact. “I’m so sorry. We ... we heard what happened.”
Charles looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and hollow. “Tell me,” he says hoarsely.
The man sighs heavily. “She was caught trying to reach the wall. There was a struggle. The guards ... they didn’t hesitate to use lethal force.”
Each word is like a knife to Charles’ heart. “Did she suffer?” He asks, dreading the answer.
“It was quick,” the man assures him. “If it’s any consolation, our sources say her last words were about you. She said, ‘Tell Charles I’ll find him again. In this life or the next.’”
Charles closes his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Those words ... why do they sound so familiar?
“Mr. Leclerc,” the American says gently, “it’s not safe for you to stay here. We need to get you out of Berlin. There will be questions, investigations.”
But Charles barely hears him. His mind is reeling, flashes of memories — or are they dreams — flooding his consciousness. Ancient Rome, plague-ridden Genoa, revolutionary France, war-torn skies over the English Channel. In each scene, he sees your face, hears your voice promising to find each other again.
“This isn’t the end,” Charles murmurs, more to himself than to the confused American.
“I’m sorry?” The man asks.
Charles stands, a strange calm settling over him. “Nothing,” he says. “You’re right. We should go.”
As they walk away from the wall, Charles makes a silent vow. He will live, he will remember, and he will find you again. Somehow, somewhere, in another life, you will have your chance at happiness.
The Berlin Wall may have separated you in this life, but Charles is certain now that your souls are bound across lifetimes. And no wall, no war, no force on earth can keep you apart forever.
Abu Dhabi, 2025
The roar of engines fills the air as Charles crosses the finish line, clinching his first Formula 1 World Championship. The crowd erupts in cheers, but Charles barely hears them. His eyes scan the barriers, searching for one face among thousands.
As he brings his Ferrari to a stop, he sees you pushing through the throng of celebrating team members. Your eyes meet, and suddenly everything else fades away. Charles leaps from the car, not even bothering to remove his helmet as he runs towards you.
“We did it!” He shouts, sweeping you into his arms and spinning you around. “We actually did it!”
You laugh, tears of joy streaming down your face. “You did it, Charles! I’m so proud of you!”
He sets you down gently, finally removing his helmet. His hair is matted with sweat, his face flushed with exertion and excitement. To you, he’s never looked more handsome.
“No,” Charles says, cupping your face in his hands. “We did this together. I couldn’t have done any of it without you.”
Before you can respond, he pulls you into a passionate kiss. The world around you explodes with camera flashes and cheers, but neither of you notice. In this moment, you’re the only two people in the world.
As you finally break apart, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he murmurs. “In this life and-”
“And all the others,” you finish, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over you.
Charles pulls back slightly, his brow furrowed. “You feel it too, don’t you?” He asks. “Like we’ve said these words before?”
You nod, a bit dazed. “It’s strange. Sometimes when I look at you, I get flashes of ... I don’t know, other times, other places. But it’s always us, always together.”
A grin spreads across Charles’ face. “Maybe we’re soulmates,” he teases, but there’s a hint of seriousness in his eyes.
“Charles! Y/N!” A voice calls out. You turn to see Fred Vasseur approaching. “Sorry to interrupt, but Charles has to get weighed.”
Charles nods, then turns back to you. “Wait for me?” He asks.
You smile, giving him a quick kiss. “Always,” you promise.
As Charles is whisked away for obligations, you find yourself lost in thought. The strange feeling of familiarity, of a love that transcends time, has been with you since the day you met Charles. You’ve never mentioned it to him before, afraid he’d think you were crazy.
The podium ceremony is a blur of champagne and cheers. Charles’ radiant smile never wavers as he hoists the trophy, but his eyes keep finding you in the crowd. When it’s finally over, he makes a beeline for you, ignoring the clamoring reporters.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, taking your hand.
You raise an eyebrow. “What about the press conference? The team celebrations?”
Charles shakes his head. “They can wait. Right now, I just want to be with you.”
Hand-in-hand, you sneak away from the track, laughing like teenagers as you dodge team members and journalists. Charles leads you to his car and soon you’re speeding down the winding roads of the Emirati capital.
“Where are we going?” You ask, the wind whipping through your hair.
Charles grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ll see.”
As the sun begins to set, Charles pulls off onto a small dirt road. It leads to a secluded hilltop overlooking the valley below. The view is breathtaking, the entire landscape bathed in the warm glow of twilight.
“Charles,” you breathe, taking in the scene. “It’s beautiful.”
He comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Not as beautiful as you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck.
You turn in his arms, struck once again by the intensity of his gaze. “What are we doing here, Charles?”
He takes a deep breath, suddenly looking nervous. “Y/N, do you remember the day we met?”
You smile at the memory. “Of course. I was lost in the paddock and you offered to help me find my way.”
“The moment I saw you,” Charles says softly, “it was like ... like coming home. Like I’d been searching for you my whole life without even knowing it.”
Your heart races as he continues. “And ever since then, I’ve had these ... dreams, I guess. Flashes of other lives, other times. But always with you.”
“Charles,” you whisper, hardly daring to believe what you’re hearing. “I’ve had them too. I thought I was going crazy.”
He shakes his head, a look of wonder on his face. “Not crazy. Just ... connected. In a way I can’t fully explain.”
Charles takes your hands in his, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on your skin. “I don’t know if it’s past lives or parallel universes or just some cosmic coincidence. But I do know this: in every life, in every version of reality, I love you. And I want to spend the rest of this life, and all the ones that come after, loving you.”
Your breath catches as Charles drops to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. “Y/N,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, “will you marry me?”
Tears blur your vision as you nod emphatically. “Yes,” you manage to choke out. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”
Charles’ face breaks into a radiant smile as he slips the ring onto your finger. He stands, pulling you into a kiss that feels like coming home and embarking on a new adventure all at once.
As you break apart, both of you laughing and crying, a sense of rightness settles over you. Whatever strange connection you share, whatever cosmic forces have brought you together time and time again, you know that this — right here, right now — is where you’re meant to be.
“I love you,” you say, looking into Charles’ eyes. “In this life and all the others.”
“And I love you,” he replies, holding you close. “Always and forever.”
The future stretches out before you, full of promise and possibility. And though you don’t know what challenges it might bring, you’re certain of one thing: whatever comes, you’ll face it together.
Just as you always have, and always will.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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I LOVE YOU, I'M SORRY
Summary: Your soulmate’s birthday is written on your arm, and it just happened to be the day the world ended.
Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Soulmate AU, Apocalypse, ANGST, Fluff, Infected, Violence, Scratching, Age-Gap (the reader is in her 20s) Romance, Unrequited, Longing, Yearning, Secrets, Injury, Blood, Jealousy, Secret Glances, Metaphors, Character Death/s, Raiders, Ambush, Hospital, Stress, Hurt-To-Comfort,
Word Count: 7k
A/N: I 1000% came up with this one night while scrolling through prompts and AUs I could do for Joel. I saw the Soulmate AU and I was like “oh, yeah,” *evil laugh* and then I heard the snippet for I love you, I’m Sorry and I was like, “yep, perfect, time to go through pain :D”
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams
| Main Masterlist |
September 26, 1967.
The date emblazoned on your wrist felt like a cruel joke, a bitter reminder of a world that had crumbled around you. The small pulse of the glow on your wrist thrummed, a haunting echo of the past. September 26 was outbreak day. The day the end of the world had come crashing down, leaving chaos and devastation in its wake. The inked numbers throbbed on your skin, a constant reminder that your soulmate was out there, somewhere in this apocalyptic wasteland.
You traced the numbers on your wrist, the ink seeming darker today, wondering if you’d ever meet the person who was meant for you. What kind of person could they be? Were they strong, gentle, kind, or hardened by the harsh world?
Hiding the mark from Joel for almost a decade took more than just care; it took an absolute miracle. You met Joel, Tess, and Tommy on your way to the Boston QZ. When you saw Joel’s wrist and the date there, you almost stopped breathing. Your birthdate on his skin was an unexpected blow. The ink on your wrist seemed to burn, yearning to connect with Joel. But his mark didn’t seem to react the same way.
When Joel and Tess started sleeping together, the walls between your apartments were paper-thin which seemed to amplify every intimate sound. You often found yourself wandering the hallways late at night, evading FEDRA officers, sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the empty night sky, stars twinkling, the moon bright. You wished for something good in a world gone bad.
You always wore long sleeves, even in unbearable heat. If you wore a short-sleeved shirt, you never took off your jacket, always coming up with some insane excuse about how cozy it was. It had become second nature, a routine you hardly thought about anymore.
As you kept your head down and worked, the grime and sweat accumulates on your skin. In exchange for your labor, you were given ration cards to obtain basic necessities.
"If it's so hot, why don't you just take off the damn jacket?" Joel gruffly asks, his irritation evident in his tone.
You stay silent and shrug, avoiding eye contact as you try to walk away to the next station, hoping to distance yourself from him. But he grabs your wrist, causing you to yank it away in surprise. "Joel, what the hell?"
Joel's tone is sharp and accusatory, causing you to instinctively flinch. "You're being awfully quiet," he scoffs.
You meet his eyes, trying to hide the turmoil inside. "What?"
"Something's off with you. What aren't you telling me?" Joel steps closer, invading your personal space, and you instinctively take a step back.
Panic sets in as you desperately search for a way out. You can't tell him the truth, so you grit your teeth and force out a lie. "I'm just tired."
"You're lying." Joel's words cut through you like a knife, making your heart race and palms sweat. The intensity of his gaze makes it clear that he won't let this go easily.
You try to remain composed, forcing a small smile. "I'm just tired from working all day."
Joel narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your excuse. "Bullshit," he says bluntly.
You bite your lip, feeling the weight of the lie in the pit of your stomach. "I promise, it's nothing."
Joel takes a step closer, making you back up against the wall. Your heart races as you feel trapped under his intense stare. "I know when something's bothering you," he says softly, his tone filled with concern.
You look down at your feet, unable to meet his gaze any longer. You've been hiding this secret for so long that the thought of telling anyone, especially Joel, terrifies you.
"Please," Joel pleads, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. "Just talk to me."
"I have to go," you urgently declare, heart pounding as you turn and bolt away, ignoring Joel's desperate calls for you to stop.
Your heart races as you run through the dark, narrow alleys, trying to put as much distance between you and Joel as possible. The fear and adrenaline pumping through your veins drive you forward, but at the same time, your mind is racing with thoughts of guilt for leaving Joel behind.
"Why did I have to lie?" you think to yourself. "Why couldn't I just tell him the truth?"
But deep down, you know why. You know that if you were to tell anyone about the secret burdening you, it could cost both of your lives. And as much as it pains you to not tell Joel, there is no other choice.
The memories hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you back to that moment in time. But this time, it feels like you're watching from a distance, like a bystander in your own body.
"You can convince them. You always do." The words echo through your mind as Tess begs you and Joel for help. Tears stream down her face as she pleads, "You have to get her there. Keep her safe. Make things right." Joel shakes his head stubbornly, but Tess doesn't give up. "Please, Joel. Please say yes."
Everything feels surreal as you remember the infected pounding at the door, their screams like a constant reminder of what's at stake. And then Tess is gone, sacrificing herself with the rest of the infected to save the others.
Tess, your friend died that day.
But then everything shifts and you're in a different place, a house belonging to Bill and Frank. Ellie is reading a letter aloud, and you and Joel are there listening. "I used to hate the world," Ellie says, "but I was wrong. When I met my soulmate, there was one person worth saving. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…”
You remember Joel storming out of the house with the letter, his grief and pain palpable in every movement he makes. It's a bitter taste in both of your mouths, but it's also a reminder of why you keep fighting – because there are people worth protecting and worth saving.
Joel may not even realize it, but you've been waiting for him your entire life. And the same goes for Joel.
The scene changes once more; the deafening sound of gunshots pierces your ears and suddenly you're back in the hospital. You're behind Joel, gripping a rifle tightly as you navigate through the chaos and bodies scattered throughout the halls.
Suddenly, you startle awake. Your heart races in your chest, and sweat trickles down your skin as you struggle to catch your breath.
You’re not out there. You’re in Jackson. You’re safe.
You briefly close your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of fear and loss from the dream. It had been two years since that fateful day in the hospital, and you were now living in Jackson with Joel and Ellie.
You gasped for breath and clutched your chest, trying to steady yourself with one hand on the softness of the sheets. You clambered out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, washing your hands and then your face. The cool water felt refreshing against your skin as you wiped it with a towel, trying to calm your nerves.
Taking a good look at yourself in the mirror, you saw the exhaustion written all over your face. The restlessness was evident in the dark circles under your eyes, and your hair was in a state of disarray.
"I look like I've been through hell," you muttered to yourself, sighing heavily.
You decided to take a shower, hoping it would help numb the pain. As the water cascaded over you, you let yourself sink into your thoughts, not really focusing on anything except the sound of water hitting your skin. Your bleary vision noticed the small cracks in the tiles on the wall.
Once you dried off and got dressed for the day, you headed downstairs to your small kitchen. The space had seen better days—cabinet doors hung slightly askew, and the pantry door refused to close all the way no matter how hard you tried.
You sighed, pushing the pantry door shut one more time before giving up and grabbing a mug from the chipped shelf. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the bitter aroma filling the air as you took a tentative sip, savoring the warmth.
Later that morning, you stepped out of your little house in Jackson, pausing to take in the crisp air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the town. You noticed the creaky and loose steps of your porch under your feet, each step emitting a groan of protest. The railings wobbled as you gripped them for balance, making a mental note to add them to your growing list of things that needed fixing.
It was just about daybreak, the sun slowly peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans, the cozy sweater you wore providing some comfort as you made your way to the stables.
You were part of the barn support staff on rotation and consistently helped out in the greenhouse. Sometimes, you were out on patrol, but today was a barn day.
As you cleaned the barn and took care of the horses, you unconsciously rolled up your sleeves, figuring no one else would be up this early. You were alone in the stables, or so you thought.
Lifting a hand to wipe the sweat from your brow, you sighed. Suddenly, you heard the sound of something dropping and a familiar voice exclaiming, "Holy shit!"
You whipped your head around to the source of the sound and saw Ellie standing there, her eyes wide as she stared directly at your wrist.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, hastily pulling your sleeve down.
Ellie took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. "Is that... a soulmate mark?"
You avoided her gaze, feeling exposed. "It's nothing, Ellie. Just... don't worry about it."
"Nothing?!" She looked incredulous. "You’ve been hiding it all this time. Why didn't you tell me?"
You sighed, the weight of your secret feeling heavier than ever. "It's complicated, Ellie. Joel... Joel doesn't know."
Ellie’s eyes widened even more. "Joel? As in... Joel?"
You nodded, unable to find the right words. The truth was out now, and there was no going back.
Ellie moved into your space, her curiosity getting the better of her. Without warning, she grabbed your wrist, yanking it towards her. Her eyes zeroed in on the birthdate etched into your skin, her face a mix of shock and realization.
"September 26, 1967," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze snapped up to meet yours, eyes wide. "That's Joel's birthday."
You tried to pull your wrist back, but Ellie held on tight, her grip firm and unyielding. "Ellie, please," you started, your voice shaky.
"Dude," she cut you off, her tone urgent and insistent. "You need to fucking tell him."
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Ellie, it's not that simple," you began, but she shook her head, not letting you finish.
"Not that simple?" she repeated, incredulous. "You've got his birthday on your wrist. You're soulmates! How much more complicated can it be?"
Your shoulders slumped as you finally managed to free your wrist from her grip. You rubbed the tender skin, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "You don't understand," you said softly. "Joel... he's been through so much. And so have I. Telling him now, after all these years... it might just make things worse."
Ellie's expression softened, but she didn't back down. "You think keeping it a secret is any better? He deserves to know. You both do."
You turned away, unable to meet her eyes. "Joel... he's moved on, he doesn’t want anything to do with relationships, and I don’t want to disrupt that."
Ellie snorted, crossing her arms. "Moved on? Joel’s not exactly the moving on type. He carries everything with him, all the time. You think he doesn't feel something for you?"
You glanced back at her, tears welling up in your eyes. "And what if he doesn't? What if he sees this and... and it means nothing to him?"
Ellie sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. "You'll never know if you don't try. And trust me, he’s stronger than you think. You both are."
Her words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, you just stood there, lost in thought. Finally, you nodded, a small, tentative movement. "I'll think about it," you whispered.
Ellie squeezed your shoulder gently before letting go. "Good. Because secrets have a way of coming out, one way or another. And it's better if it comes from you."
As she turned to leave, you stared down at the date on your wrist, the ink seeming to pulse with a life of its own.
Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding.
You sat alone on the bench in the food hall, picking at your meal and lost in your thoughts when a familiar drawl pulled you back to reality.
"Hey, darlin’."
The sound of Joel’s voice made your heart skip a beat, and a sudden warmth spread through your body. You nearly choked on your food, glancing up to see him settling next to you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Hi, Joel,” you sputtered, trying to regain your composure.
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Mind if I join you?”
You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No, not at all.”
He leaned back, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “How’s your day been?”
You shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Busy, as always. Barn duties and all that.”
Joel nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. “Yeah, I hear you’ve been workin’ hard. Always see you runnin’ around, takin’ care of things.”
A soft blush crept up your cheeks under his scrutiny. “Just trying to keep busy, you know? What about you?”
“Same old,” he replied, his voice low and soothing. “Patrols, repairs, keepin’ an eye on Ellie. She’s a handful.”
You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “She definitely keeps us on our toes.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he watched you, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The bustling noise of the food hall became a distant hum, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.
“You look tired,” he said gently, concern evident in his voice. “Everything alright?”
You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “Just… a lot on my mind lately.”
Joel reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm. The touch was brief but sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours, concern evident. “You sure you’re alright?”
Your breath hitched at the back of your throat, but you forced a smile. “Mmm... yeah. Just going through a to-do list in my mind right now.”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze never leaving your face. “Anythin’ that needs fixin’, darlin’?”
You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just a few kitchen cabinets... the hinges squeak, and the pantry door doesn’t close all the way. Also a couple of loose steps and a wobbly railing too.
He nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “Well, why don’t I take a look? Might be an easy fix.”
Your heart fluttered at the offer, a mix of gratitude and the thrill of being near him. “You don’t have to, Joel. I know you’re busy.”
Joel chuckled softly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he let go. “I’ve always got time for you. Besides, can’t have you fightin’ with those cabinets every day.”
You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Alright, if you insist.”
Joel’s eyes twinkled with a warm light. “I’ll swing by tomorrow mornin’, if that’s alright with you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with him. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’d appreciate the help.”
He gave a slow, easy smile that made your stomach flutter. “Great. I’ll bring my tools and we’ll get this place sorted.”
The way he said “we” filled you with a sense of comfort and belonging. “Thanks, Joel. It really means a lot.”
Joel stepped closer, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Anytime, darlin’. You know I’m here for you.”
You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I know.”
His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the air thick with unspoken words and the electric tension between you. Finally, he took a step back, breaking the spell.
“I should get goin’,” he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. “Gotta talk to Tommy ‘bout somethin’.”
“Right, of course,” you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment but also a thrill of anticipation for tomorrow.
Joel lingered by the table, a hand on your shoulder. “Take care, okay?”
“You too, Joel,” you said softly.
He nodded and turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look. You watched him walk away, your heart pounding and your mind racing with thoughts of what tomorrow might bring.
The next morning, you were up at dawn, nerves and excitement thrumming through you as you tidied up the kitchen. Each movement was deliberate, an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But no matter how much you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but glance at the clock every few minutes, your heart racing each time the hands inched closer to Joel’s promised arrival.
As you finished your second cup of coffee, the knock on the door startled you, sending a jolt through your already frazzled nerves. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and opened the door to find Joel standing there, a toolbox in one hand and a warm, familiar smile on his face.
“Good mornin’,” he greeted, stepping inside, his presence filling the room.
“Morning, Joel,” you replied, the rush of warmth at seeing him making your voice tremble slightly.
He set the toolbox down and looked around the kitchen with a critical eye. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealin’ with here.”
As Joel began inspecting the cabinets and pantry door, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Every subtle flex of his muscles under his shirt drew your attention, and you found it hard to look away.
“Found the problem,” he said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Just needs a little tightening and some oil.”
You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the magnetic pull of his proximity. “I’m glad it’s an easy fix.”
Joel smiled, his eyes locking with yours, sending a spark of electricity through you. “Told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”
As he worked, you found yourself drawn to him, moving closer under the pretense of handing him tools or holding a flashlight. Each accidental brush of your hands sent a jolt through you, the air between you charged with unspoken desire. You felt your pulse quicken every time his fingers grazed yours.
“There,” Joel said finally, standing up and testing the now-silent hinges. “Good as new.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and a little breathless from being so close to him. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag. “Just doin’ what I can.”
You both stood there for a moment, the kitchen suddenly feeling too small and too big all at once. The silence between you was heavy with everything you weren’t saying, a tension that seemed to thicken the air.
“Joel,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I really appreciate this. More than you know.”
He looked at you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache. “I’m glad I could help. And I meant what I said yesterday—you don’t have to do everything alone.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you took a tentative step closer, the distance between you feeling like an unbearable chasm. “It’s hard to ask for help sometimes. But knowing you’re here... it makes a difference.”
Joel reached out, his fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll always be here for you. Don’t ever doubt that.”
The intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. You felt drawn to him, the unspoken connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment. Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest.
His breath hitched as you moved closer, the air between you charged with a heady mix of anticipation and yearning. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between holding back and giving in. The warmth of his body so close to yours was intoxicating, and you felt your resolve weakening with each passing second.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with all the longing you’d kept hidden for so long.
He swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours. “I—”
Just as the air between you thickened with unspoken words, a sudden, sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment. You both turned to see a young woman standing there, her eyes lighting up when she saw Joel.
“Hey, Joel!” she called out, her tone annoyingly bright. “I heard you were here and thought I’d bring over some coffee. Figured you could use a break.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. “Uh, thanks, Vanessa,” he replied, his voice strained. “But we’re kinda in the middle of something.”
Vanessa’s eyes flicked to you, her gaze turning cold. “Oh, I see. Well, maybe I could help?”
Before you could step away, Joel’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. The unexpected gesture sent a shiver through you, and you looked up at him, your heart pounding.
“We’re busy, Vanessa,” Joel said firmly, his hand resting possessively on your hip. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got it covered.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in obvious jealousy. “Right. Well, if you change your mind...” She trailed off, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of disdain and envy before she finally turned and walked away.
As soon as she was out of earshot, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Joel’s grip on your waist loosened, but he didn’t let go. His eyes met yours, the intensity in them making your pulse race.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice low. “Didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay. I appreciate the backup.”
Joel chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against your side in a way that sent tingles down your spine. “Guess we should get back to work, huh?”
You nodded, reluctantly stepping back, though his touch lingered in your mind. “Yeah, the step and railing on the porch still need fixing.”
Together, you moved outside, the tension from earlier still simmering between you. As Joel inspected the loose step, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. The way his hands moved with such confidence and skill, the way his brow furrowed in concentration—it all captivated you.
“Can you hold this steady for me?” he asked, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.
You nodded, stepping closer to help. Your hands brushed against his as you held the wood in place, and the contact sent a jolt through you. The proximity, the shared task, the quiet intimacy of the moment—it all felt like a dance, each movement charged with unspoken feelings.
“Almost got it,” Joel murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it took all your willpower not to lean into him.
Finally, he tightened the last screw and tested the step, making sure it was secure. “There. That should do it.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and more than a little breathless. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He looked at you, his eyes softening. “Just doin’ what I can.”
As you both stood there on the porch, the morning sun casting a golden glow around you, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Everything you wanted to say but didn't wash over you in the awkward stillness, and the feelings you shared were nearly visible.
The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the landscape as you and your patrol partner, Mark, scouted the perimeter. He was easy-going, always ready with a joke or a reassuring word. You found his presence comforting, a steady rock amidst the chaos.
“Think we’ll find anything today?” you asked, keeping your voice low.
Mark grinned, his eyes scanning the horizon. “Nah, it’s been quiet for a while now. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Just as the words left his mouth, a shot rang out. The next few moments were a blur of chaos and violence. Raiders, hidden in the underbrush, launched their attack. Mark managed to shoot one off you, his quick reflexes saving your life. But then, he was hit, and you watched in horror as he crumpled to the ground.
“Mark!” you screamed, dropping to your knees beside him. Blood poured from a wound in his chest, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. You pressed your hands against the wound, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood. “Stay with me, Mark. Please, stay with me.”
But his eyes glazed over, the light fading. You choked back a sob, fury and grief surging through you as the raiders closed in. You fought with every ounce of strength you had, slashing and stabbing, your vision blurred by tears and the pouring rain that had begun to fall. Blood and dirt smeared your face, and pain lanced through your body from multiple wounds.
The storm roared with fury, whipping the trees and lashing the ground with torrents of rain. You stumbled through the churning chaos, your clothes drenched and clinging to your skin, your muscles burning from the effort of pushing forward. Your vision blurred by the onslaught, you fought to keep moving, each step a battle against the ferocious elements. In that moment, all that mattered was survival - staying alive until the tempest passed.
It had been hours since Joel last saw them. His graying hair was in danger of being pulled out in frustration. You and Mark were supposed to be back by now. The patrol route you both took was supposed to be a shorter one.
Joel paced back and forth in the settlement, struggling to contain his anger. “Why the hell can’t I go out there, Tommy? She’s my partner, my—” He cut himself off, frustration and fear etched into his features.
Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice firm. “You’re too close to this, Joel. You need to stay here. I’ll find her.”
Hours dragged by, each minute an eternity. Joel’s rage simmered, his helplessness gnawing at him. He punched the wall, his knuckles splitting, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear of losing you.
Tommy had taken a small team out to search for you and Mark, but there was still no word. The storm raged on, making it even harder to find any trace of you.
Joel’s mind raced with possibilities – had you and Mark been ambushed? Taken by the raiders? Injured and unable to make it back? His heart clenched at the thought of you hurt or worse.
He cursed himself for not going out with you both, for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. He knew better than anyone that in this world, you couldn’t afford to let your guard down. But he had let himself become complacent, too focused on protecting you rather than seeing things clearly.
Bile rises in Joel's throat, the taste of fear and worry leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He swallows hard, trying to push the feeling down as he anxiously waits for any news.
The bitter taste of regret and fear lingered on Joel’s tongue, each thought of what could happen to you making his stomach turn.
The metallic taste of blood was thick on Joel's tongue as he bit down on his lip, trying to hold back his emotions. The rancid taste of fear and worry lingered in his mouth, coating his throat and making it hard to swallow.
Meanwhile, Tommy pushed through the storm, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness. The wind howled around him, carrying with it the distant echoes of thunder. He called out your name, his voice barely audible above the roar of the tempest. His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination, each step sinking into the mud as he trudged forward.
The rain came down in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Lightning flashed, illuminating the twisted branches and slick ground for brief moments. He stumbled over fallen logs and through thick underbrush, the storm making every movement a struggle.
Tommy's eyes darted around, searching desperately. He felt a gnawing dread in the pit of his stomach, a fear that he was too late. Then, in the distance, he saw a figure lying still. His breath caught in his throat as he hurried over, praying that it wasn't you.
As he got closer, he recognized the bodies of the raiders, their lifeless forms sprawled across the muddy ground. The sight was gruesome, the aftermath of a brutal fight. His heart sank when he saw Mark, his friend and comrade, lying motionless with a fatal wound. He forced himself to look away, his focus now solely on finding you.
Finally, his eyes landed on you, crumpled and barely breathing. His heart pounded in his chest as he knelt beside you. Blood soaked your clothes, mingling with the dirt and rain, creating a grim tapestry that told the story of your fierce struggle.
“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice trembling with urgency and concern. He gently lifted your head, cradling you in his arms. You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed, pain-filled eyes.
“Joel?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm. The confusion and pain in your gaze made Tommy’s heart clench.
Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw the mark on your wrist, illuminated by a flash of lightning. It was the same date he had seen on Joel’s wrist—the same mark. Realization hit him like a freight train, the pieces falling into place with a sudden clarity. “It’s Tommy,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you. Just hold on.”
But you had already slipped back into unconsciousness, your body limp in his arms. Tommy’s heart raced as he gently but urgently lifted you, securing you on his horse. He mounted behind you, holding you close to keep you steady, and spurred the horse into a gallop.
The ride back was a blur of rain and darkness, each second stretching into an eternity. The storm seemed to rage even harder, the wind whipping through the trees and the rain stinging like needles. Tommy’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, fear for your life mingling with the shocking revelation of your connection to Joel.
By the time Tommy reached the settlement, his clothes were soaked through, clinging to his skin like a second, frigid layer. Every muscle in his body ached from the grueling ride and the weight of your unconscious form. The rain had not let up, and his vision was blurred by the relentless downpour. But he didn't stop, carrying you swiftly yet carefully towards the infirmary, each step a struggle against exhaustion and worry.
Joel was just by the large gate of Jackson, pacing anxiously. The moment he saw Tommy approaching with your limp body, his heart seemed to stop. His face, already drawn with worry, twisted into an expression of sheer desperation.
“Is she okay?” Joel asked frantically, his voice cracking. His eyes were wide, darting between Tommy and your pale face for any sign of hope.
“She’s alive,” Tommy said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He handed you over to the medics who were rushing to meet them. Joel instinctively moved to follow, but Tommy grabbed his arm, his grip firm and unyielding.
“Joel, wait. Look at her wrist,” Tommy urged, his voice low but insistent.
Joel’s eyes followed Tommy's gaze, landing on the mark on your wrist. Recognition hit him like a punch to the gut, the date etched into your skin unmistakable. It was the same as his. Realization dawned with a mixture of awe and dread. “Fuck,” he breathed, the weight of it crashing over him. The one person he couldn’t afford to lose was you, and now he knew why.
The medics were quick, their movements efficient as they assessed your injuries and began to prepare you for treatment. They lifted you onto a stretcher, intent on rushing you inside where they could better tend to your wounds. Joel moved to follow, his protective instincts kicking in, but the medics tried to hold him back.
“Sir, you need to let us do our job,” one of them said, a young woman with a firm but gentle voice.
“No,” Joel growled, his eyes blazing with determination and fear. “I ain’t leavin’ her side.”
Tommy stepped in, trying to reason with him. “Joel, you gotta let the doctors work.”
Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling with the effort to contain his emotions. “I can’t… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he choked out, his voice raw with pain and anger.
“I know, but you stayin’ in there won’t help her. You’ll only be in the way,” Tommy said, his tone gentle but firm. He placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder, trying to ground him. “You’ve gotta trust them to do their job. Let them help her.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes locked on the door to the infirmary where they had taken you. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to be by your side, to make sure you were safe. But he knew Tommy was right. With a heavy, reluctant nod, he allowed himself to be led away, his heart aching with every step.
The minutes stretched into an eternity as they waited. Joel paced back and forth, his mind racing with worry. He could still see the image of you, broken and bloodied, every time he closed his eyes. The mark on your wrist haunted him, a constant reminder of the bond that tied you together. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn't bear to lose you.
Tommy stood by, watching his brother with a mixture of sympathy and concern. He knew how much you meant to Joel, and the revelation of the soulmate mark only intensified that bond. He wished there was something more he could do, some way to ease Joel’s pain.
Finally, a medic emerged from the infirmary, her expression tired but relieved. “She’s stable,” she announced, and Joel felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “She’s got a long road to recovery, but she’s a fighter.”
Joel nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He would stay by your side, no matter what. The bond you shared was too precious to ever let go.
Days blurred into a haze of sterile white walls and the rhythmic beeping of machines. You drifted in and out of consciousness, each time greeted by the comforting sounds of Joel and Ellie. Joel's low, soothing voice often filled the room, whether he was talking to you or humming a soft tune. Ellie would sit by your bed, recounting stories with her usual animated flair, her voice a bright spot in the darkness.
One evening, as the storm outside mirrored the chaos within, you stirred slightly. The weight of Joel's hand on your wrist was a grounding force, his presence unwavering. He looked exhausted, his eyes heavy with worry, but he never left your side.
In one of your more lucid moments, you caught snippets of Joel's soft singing, the melody wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His voice was a balm, a tether to the world you were trying so hard to rejoin. He would often lean down to press gentle kisses to your forehead, his touch both a promise and a plea for you to come back to him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you awoke fully. Your throat was dry, and every muscle ached, but you were aware. The weight on your wrist brought your gaze to Joel. He was slumped in a chair beside your bed, his head resting on the edge, fast asleep. He looked worn out, dark circles under his eyes and a shadow of stubble on his jaw.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering open as if sensing your gaze.
“I...” Your voice came out as a croak, and you winced.
“Here, drink up,” Joel said, quickly pouring a glass of water and holding it to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.
After a few sips of water, you managed to find your voice again. “How long have I been out?” you asked, your throat feeling slightly raw from disuse.
“Almost a week,” Joel replied, his eyes never leaving yours.
“A week?” you repeated in shock. It felt like only a few hours had passed.
Joel nodded, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “You were pretty out of it for a while there.”
You felt a pang of guilt for causing so much worry and trouble for everyone. “I’m sorry,” you said softly.
“Don’t be sorry,” Joel said firmly, his eyes filled with intensity. “Just focus on getting better.”
“I will,” you promised, grateful for his unwavering support.
The relief on Joel’s face was palpable, but as he set the glass aside, a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me?” His voice was quiet, but the intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear.
You looked away, shame burning your cheeks. “Trust me, I know. It's always about me.”
Joel's jaw clenched. “I just… I didn’t think you could ever want me.” Your voice broke, the years of hiding and pretending catching up to you.
Joel’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek. “You’ve always been more than I deserve,” he murmured. “I just wish you’d told me.”
Tears filled your eyes, and you struggled to breathe. “I love you…” you choked out, the words finally escaping your lips after years of being held back. “I’m sorry.”
Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you sobbed. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
In the midst of life's storms, a quiet calm settled around you both, like discovering an oasis in the desert. Amidst chaos and pain, you found your soulmate, and love emerged as the unwavering light guiding you through the darkest nights.
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after the seminar
🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today. He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated- God, you want him so bad.
tw/cw. sugar daddy Wonwoo, gentleman in the streets/softdom in the sheets, reader doesn't want to make choices, daddy/control kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, masturbation, unprotected sex, holding hands while fucking, implied breeding/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) daddy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.3k
🍭 aus. sugar daddy au, established relationship, fiance!Wonwoo, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I know not everyone is into this level of sugar daddy control, but I think there's something to be said about the trust that reader has for Wonwoo. Sometimes I just wanna shut up and let a man do all the work, and today, that man is Wonwoo
Wonwoo’s had few loves in his life. During university, he’d had a love for law, a need to do what was right. In his thirties, he’d found a new soulmate in legislative procedures related to the sustainability and efficiency of whole cities. Finance had been another long-winded lover, and now, on the cusp of forty, Wonwoo’s found the one thing in the world he loves most, you.
Holding your hand while he drives through the city, Wonwoo can’t help but keep some of his attention on you.
Dressed in a tight-fitting red dress he’d bought you for your six-month anniversary in Paris, with your hair and makeup done, you look as stunning as ever. There’s a fat rock on your wedding finger, an engagement ring signifying his loyalty to you, and Wonwoo can’t help himself but play with it a little anytime your hands are linked.
As he makes a turn onto a busy street, the sun practically blinds him, and Wonwoo immediately lets go of you to adjust his visor. You make no movement, so he pulls yours down too, enjoying the way you flash him a small smile and whisper a ‘thank you.’
“You look lost in thought,” he muses, having noted your gaze fixed on the sidewalk trees passing by outside your window. “What’s on your mind?”
“Just thinking about seminar topics,” you admit.
Over the past three days, you’ve accompanied him to multiple talks focused on accessibility, affordability, and green solutions within cities like yours. Tonight marks the last evening of the event, and the two of you are headed to a meet-up with some of Wonwoo’s closest lawyer friends.
Wonwoo loves how diligently you’ve thrown yourself into his work-focused world. Not only do you attend the seminars with him, but you truly make an effort to learn, and that’s never more obvious than when conversing with his colleagues.
Wonwoo’s best friend, Kim Mingyu, has entertained a string of sugar baby relationships, and despite inviting three or four of those women to events like the one you’ve just accompanied Wonwoo to, none of Mingyu’s girls ever took to it the way you do.
You’re one of a kind, and Wonwoo knows how lucky he is to have you.
“I’m sure Seungcheol will have a few things to say about the housing crisis talk,” Wonwoo notes. Choi Seungheol, who had started in law and made the leap to real estate. He now owns half of the new developments being built downtown, and Wonwoo knows this will spur a contentious discussion later.
“He can’t argue with the stats,” you sigh, turning to look at Wonwoo, who threads his fingers with yours again.
“He can try,” Wonwoo smiles softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
You return the smile, turning your attention out the window again.
You’re not voicing anything, but Wonwoo can read you like a book. It used to be his job to pay attention to body language, and while he tries to stay humble, people have called him something of a mind reader.
“It’s been an exhausting three days,” he notes. “We don’t have to be out for long tonight, I’m sure we both need our rest.”
“Hansol flies to New York tomorrow morning,” you remind him. “I want you to have as much time with him as you need before he’s gone.”
Your relationship is always something like this, the two of you caring for each other so deeply that you constantly make small concessions. As always, though, the ball is in Wonwoo’s court. He appreciates the way you can feel to him like an intellectual equal while still being submissive in other senses, although he never abuses this power over you.
He’ll keep an eye on you tonight, and when he notices you getting tired, or your energy depleting, he’ll excuse the both of you from drinks and take you back to his place. Then, he’ll take care of you in the ways only he knows how.
You love Wonwoo. You love him for the big things, his character, his good heart- but you love him for the little things too, the way nothing slips past his line of focus. He’s always a hundred percent on and present with you, holding open every door, guiding you by the small of your back, and pulling out your chair first when you join his friends on the top floor restaurant in the most expensive hotel in the city.
“You look amazing,” Mingyu compliments you, flashing you a toothy grin before standing to greet Wonwoo with a hug. “You definitely know how to pick them,” he praises his friend.
“And look at that ring,” Seungcheol has zeroed in on the diamond on your finger, and he reaches across the table to take your hand and get a better look at it. Wonwoo’s eldest friend has always had an eye for luxury, and he studies the oval rock and silver-colored band. “I’d ask if this is sterling,” he muses, “but if I were a betting man, which I am, I’d say it’s white gold.”
Seungcheol lifts his eyes to meet yours, waiting for an affirmative, which you give with a nod. “You know your metals, Mister Choi.”
“How many times do I have to tell you,” he lifts your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingers, “It’s Seungcheol.”
“Stop flirting with Wonwoo’s girl,” Hansol tuts, pushing at Seungcheol’s shoulder.
The elder man makes a face, brushing off his expensive suit. “Not flirting,” he clarifies. “Although,” his gaze shifts to you again, “if you have any hot friends-”
“Aish,” Wonwoo has rejoined the conversation after greeting Mingyu, and he takes the seat next to you, his arm casually coming around the back of your chair to pull you closer. “What have I told you about asking her for favors?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Sungcheol sighs, sitting back and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “She’s one in a million, aren’t ya, little miss future Jeon to be?”
“Try one in a billion,” Wonwoo corrects, hand finding your thigh now that he’s pulled you close enough. “Have you three ordered drinks yet?”
“We were waiting on you,” Mingyu says, handing Wonwoo a cocktail menu, which he settles between you both so you can also read it. “Their margaritas are pretty good.”
You quickly find a drink you’d like to try, and you wordlessly reach out a manicured nail to tap on it. Wonwoo follows your motion, giving a curt nod, then he leans in to press his lips to your cheek. He waves down the waiter a moment later, and orders you your drink, sparing you the socialization.
This is yet another one of those little things Wonwoo does for you that you find incredibly sexy, and you tuck closer to him, placing your hand over his own on your thigh.
“We should talk about the elephant in the room,” Mingyu sighs, drawing all eyes. You have no idea what he’s about to say, and then he hits the four of you with, “Cheol, you have to admit your new high rises aren’t sustainable or affordable.”
“They’re called luxury suits for a reason,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’m not in the business of affordable housing.”
Wonwoo grins next to you, looking down and squeezing your hand gently. It’s funny how amusing he finds this whole thing.
“Don’t smirk like that, Woo,” Seungcheol tuts. “As if you didn’t do a walk-through of a penthouse suite in my new highrise last week.”
This is news to you, and you turn to look at your boyfriend. You’re generally not one to question him, and luckily you don’t have to, because Kim Mingyu is just as nosey as you’d sometimes like to be. “You checked out a penthouse? I thought you loved your apartment?”
“I’ve had it for years,” Wonwoo says, and you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “However, I can admit that the amenities at Cheol’s new builds are quite impressive.”
“Amenities,” Seungcheol scoffs. “As if that’s what you were actually interested in.”
The two powerful men share a look, and it’s a battle of wills that makes your heart thump loudly in your chest.
What was Wonwoo interested in?
He’s never talked to you about moving, and you’ve been living with him for nearly a year. Besides, Mingyu’s right, Wonwoo adores his apartment. He’s had it forever and it’s decorated exactly the way he likes it. Your bedroom is a lovely corner location with views of the whole city, and his home office is a sanctuary you’ve loved to desecrate.
“We’ll talk about this more another time,” Wonwoo says finally, looking up as your waiter appears with a tray of drinks.
Your cocktail is set in front of Wonwoo, and he gently pushes it toward you before reaching down to give your thigh a squeeze under the table. He picks up his Old Fashioned with his free hand, and Seungcheol raises his own glass in a toast. “To friends and new engagements!”
Seungcheol nods to you before taking a sip of his scotch, and it fills your body with heat to know his friends truly respect and like you. They’re happy to have you joining as a permanent member of their social sphere.
You place your hand on top of Wonwoo’s as you bring your cocktail to your lips.
The discussion moves to details about sustainability, and the men at the table trade opinions on the seminars. Mingyu is fast in his manner of speaking, always intent to prove his point. Cheol is loud and boisterous, scoffing at opinions that don’t align with his own. Hansol is often quiet, but he makes good notes ever so often, and they make the whole table sit and think. And your Wonwoo is as calm and judicial as always, listening to his friends with a contemplative expression even while his thumb draws small circles on your thigh.
You give your own two cents a few times, and your musings are always the most well-received. None of the men at the table are about to pick a fight with you, and they’re attentive whenever you open your mouth, nodding and making one or two comments before getting heated with each other again.
The waiter comes and Seungcheol orders a few appetizers while Wonwoo opens the menu for you. When Wonwoo begins to list three of his own items, you tap your finger on the one you’d like most and he voices that as well.
God, how you love the fact that you only have to lift one little finger with Wonwoo while he does the rest. You really aren’t in a super talkative mood, especially when it comes to mundane tasks like ordering food and drinks. You save your voice to join in on the intellectual conversation taking place, and you prefer things this way.
Seungcheol and Wonwoo begin to argue over rezoning laws, and Hansol turns toward you, leaning closer. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he smiles.
“Thank you,” you grin back.
“Have you guys talked about wedding plans yet?”
Out of all the people in the world, you didn’t think Chwe Hansol would be one of the first to ask you about wedding details.
“We’re thinking destination,” you admit.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Hansol laughs. “And an expensive honeymoon too I bet.”
“Of course,” you grin, playing with the stem of your cocktail glass. “Although, if I’m being honest…” you lean closer to Hansol, lowering your voice while Wonwoo and Seungcheol continue to argue, “as much as I like the lifestyle I have with Wonwoo, you know I’m happy just to be with him.”
“But the expensive trips are a bonus I bet,” Hansol grins.
“I mean… would you say no to a trip to the Maldives?”
Wonwoo’s friend shakes his head, still smiling. “Never.”
“When are you going to find someone?” you ask. Out of all of Wonwoo’s close friends, Hansol is the most level-headed. He’s stable, and kind, and if you weren’t so into Wonwoo, you’d even admit Hansol is quite handsome in his own way.
“Someday,” Hansol sighs. “Maybe you’ll have cute bridesmaids at your wedding.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” you assure him.
Hansol laughs. “I’d appreciate that.”
Food begins to arrive at the table, and you sit up straight again, tucking close to Wonwoo. He’s done this thing, ever since your first date, where he helps plate food for you, and for some reason, it’s always been a huge turn-on.
You like getting baby girl treatment, and you watch Wonwoo with a grin while he cuts through some carpaccio and sets up a piece for you. He makes sure to get a little bit of everything on your plate before putting anything on his own, and his friends are already digging in by the time he’s gotten the both of you settled.
“Do you want anything else?” he asks, always the type to be certain he’s pleased you.
“This looks perfect,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering by his ear so he’s the only one who can hear you when you say, “Thank you, Daddy.”
Wonwoo reaches down and squeezes your thigh, the only sign you have that your words have done something to him. He’s not the type to be big on PDA, and it’s the little things like a constant touch, or acts of service, that remind you he loves you as much as you love him.
You wait for Wonwoo to lift a carpaccio bread spread to his lips before you reach for your own, mirroring his motions so you can experience the food together.
You hadn’t been a carpaccio fan before meeting Wonwoo, but he’s expanded your pallet in the time you’ve known him, and you’re extremely thankful for this opportunity - as well as others - that he’s provided for you.
“Look at you two loved-up foodies,” Seungcheol sighs from across the table, watching you with eyes trained to assess.
Wonwoo only grins, reaching for his drink to take a sip. You follow that motion too, smirking over the rim of your glass before downcasting your eyes.
There’s no need to respond to Seuncheol’s comment because it’s an apt description of the pair of you.
“Stop being jealous,” Mingyu grins, reaching out to push at Seungcheol’s shoulder.
“Never going to happen,” Seungcheol retorts.
You know he’s in the market for a sugar baby, and Wonwoo’s told you how often Seungcheol brings you up when you’re not around. Apparently, his eldest friend is adamant that you’re one of the most perfect sugar babies he’s ever seen, and you wonder if maybe you should try to hook him up with one of your friends at the wedding. Give Cheol the Hansol treatment. However, in contrast to Hansol’s laid-back expectations, you’d have to give your Cheol-intended friend a cheat sheet booklet on how to please a rich man.
“Just watch,” Seungcheol continues, “these two are going to sneak off early and go to the bathroom or something. They’re sitting much too close together, and we’ve all noticed Wonwoo’s hand under the table.”
To show his innocence, Wonwoo lifts the hand in question. “We’re not doing anything,” he assures his friends calmly. “Although… unfortunately, we will have to leave early after appetizers.”
This is news to you, and you look at Wonwoo for further clarification, which he gives when pressed by Seungcheol.
“It’s been a long seminar,” Wonwoo explains, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. “I’d say Honey needs her beauty rest, but I think we all know I’m not so nice when I’ve been sleep deprived.”
You love it when he calls you Honey, in fact, he uses that name for you more than your legal one.
Seungcheol lets out a groan, but he doesn’t push further, because Wonwoo’s excuse is true. He’s never been rude to you when tired, but he definitely has a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.
“We’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning,” Mingyu agrees. “Maybe I should get another drink and call it a night too.”
“Come on Gyu,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I’ll let these two ditch, but this is Hansol’s last night in the city, I thought we could go to a roof on one of my new waterfront builds and hit some golf balls at the sea.”
“Right, because that’s very environmentally friendly,” Wonwoo tuts.
“Jesus, you are tired, aren’t you?” Seungcheol laughs.
It’s a rhetorical question, and Wonwoo simply lifts another appetizer to his mouth, chewing with a tight-lipped grin.
In truth, Wonwoo has been tired. You haven’t fucked since the first night of the seminar, and although that was only two days ago, you’re definitely feeling the loss. On top of that, being wined and dined and looked after always makes you hornier than usual, and Wonwoo has been extra ‘husband’ today.
He’s just so perfect. Well-mannered, kind, educated-
God, you want him so bad.
You take a sip of your cocktail again before resting your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh, and he stops what he’s doing to look down at your fingers toying with his pants. Then his gaze rises to you, and he cocks his head slightly, obviously a little stunned by how forward you’re being tonight.
It’s such a small motion, but it speaks volumes, and when paired with a small flutter of your lashes, Wonwoo reads you like he reads the books in his impressive office library.
Part of you wants to toy with him, wants to tease your touch up to his crotch just to see if you can get him hard at dinner with his friends, but you know that would lead to something akin to consequence.
As easy as it is for Wonwoo to read you, he’s not such an open book and his reactions vary drastically. You don’t want to push your luck today, not after you’ve been such a good girl for him for three seminars straight.
You remove your hand before playing with fire gets you burned, and the two of you continue to finish your appetizers. Each bite is one step closer to leaving with Wonwoo, but you try to take your time, try not to be too glutenous to make way for lust.
Wonwoo finished eating and he lifts his drink with his left hand, his right palm finding your thigh again. His touch is soothing, gentle, but it still stirs a fire within you.
You shift your knee, letting it rest against his, and you sip your cocktail trying to pay attention to what Mingyu’s saying about the stock market.
Wonwoo is generally quite the stocks man. He pays attention to Mingyu, but you can tell his focus is still partially on you, and you reach down to play with his fingers, enjoying how pretty his hands are.
You need him so badly.
That’s when you realize Wonwoo has almost finished his drink, and you quickly grab at yours too, wanting to reach the bottom of your own cup.
You’ve not been drinking since the seminar started, and the booze in your cocktail definitely heightens your senses. An electric tingle consumes your form, and it’s getting harder to ignore the panties sticking to your core.
The conversation reaches a lull, and Wonwoo lets out a sigh, squeezing your legs. “Well, it’s been fun,” he says, “but Honey and I should get going.”
“One more drink,” Seungcheol practically begs, already lifting a hand to call over a waiter.
“Not tonight,” Wonwoo says, soft but firm.
He stands up first, grabbing your hand to help you out of your own seat. “Good luck with your flight tomorrow, Hansol,” he nods to the man on your right.
“Good luck with wedding planning,” Hansol retorts, rising from his chair to pull you and Wonwoo into a hug.
Hansol’s not usually a touchy guy, and the hug means something. It’s a true acceptance that you’re permanently a part of Wonwoo’s life, and it means the world to you.
“Now I want a hug,” Mingyu also stands, holding out his arms for you and Wonwoo.
With a laugh, your fiance’s hand finds the small of your back and he guides you into Mingyu’s warm embrace, trapping you between their large bodies.
Now you’re really turned on.
Seungcheol doesn’t stand, he simply watches, lips all pouty. “Let me know about that penthouse,” he muses. “I’ve got some foreign buyers already wanting a walk through and I won’t hold it forever.”
“I’ll get back to you,” Wonwoo promises, giving one last nod to Seungcheol before he begins to guide you out of the restaurant.
As you make it to the front desk, Wonwoo stops and addresses the staff member there. “I’m going to take care of my table’s bill tonight.”
“I’ll put it on your tab, Mr. Jeon.” She nods, typing something into the ipad infront of her.
“That was kind of you,” you muse as Wonwoo escorts you into the elevator that will lead to the underground where his expensive Mercedes is parked.
“We’re leaving early, it’s the least I could do.”
“You know… I hope we didn’t leave on my account,” you say, thinking about the conversation you’d had in the car earlier.
Wonwoo leans down close to you, grinning. “I can safely say we left due to my own personal needs, although they’re not sleep-related.”
“You really like this dress, don’t you, Daddy?” you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck while his hands settle on your hips.
“I like what’s under it,” he retorts, which is a cheeky response by Wonwoo’s standards.
“Been missing my body, haven’t you?”
“More than you realize.”
Wonwoo had kept his composure on the drive home. He’d even kept his hands mostly to himself on the way up to your apartment, but your stoic lover is on you the moment the door to your home is closed behind you both.
He presses you up against the wall, grabbing your waist and tugging you close while simultaneously blocking you up against the hard surface at your back. His lips are hot against your own, his tongue invading your mouth and making you giggle as you grab the front of his shirt, already popping buttons open.
You release a moan when he reaches down and cups your core, pushing up your dress to access your lacey panties. “Where do you want it, honey?” he asks, biting at your lip.
“I don’t want to think tonight,” you admit, tired from days of brain power.
You love that Wonwoo likes to check in with you. He’s not the type to simply throw you over a kitchen counter and rail you when you might prefer the bed or even the shower- but at the same time, as soon as you give him full control, Wonwoo’s very good at taking charge.
“I’ll take care of you,” Wonwoo promises, pushing your panties to the side so he can slide two fingers against your heated core. You can feel how wet you are, and the contact against your clit has you whining, grabbing his face to bring his mouth to yours again while he pushes two digits knuckle deep into your aching core.
You’re sensitive from a few days without being touched, and it feels like heaven to have Wonwoo worshipping you like this again. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he draws his mouth down to your jaw then your throat, peppering your skin in kisses that have you shivering with pleasure.
“Daddy-” you whimper, your hips thrusting toward his hand as he works you open, palming your clit with delicious pressure.
“I know, Honey, I know,” he soothes, and between gasped breaths and moans, you can hear your pussy squelching already.
It’s getting harder and harder to stand on your shaky legs, your heels not meant for standing sex or heavy petting like this. But it’s also clear to you that Wonwoo has no intention of stopping his motions until you’ve cum on his fingers, so you do your best to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself while that wonderful feeling builds in the pit of your stomach.
“I’ve missed this pussy,” Wonwoo tells you, voice low. It’s not often that he uses vulgarity, even in the bedroom, and his words betray how much he truly needs you. Your skin tingles with excitement, pussy throbbing, heart thundering in your chest-
It’s crazy how one sentence can nearly shortcircuit your brain when paired with Wonwoo using his hands like this- stroking the parts of you that he knows better than anyone else in the world.
Your fiance has taken his sweet time getting to know your body, and it shows in moments like these.
“I’m so close-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders. You should care about his expensive suit jacket, but you don’t- all that matters is the orgasm you’re desperately chasing, hips moving to ride Wonwoo’s hand while his unrelenting fingers get you closer and closer to the edge-
“Come on, honey,” Wonwoo grins, mouth returning to the spot on your neck that always makes you go feral, “cum for me.”
One more rough thrust with his fingers has you moaning, tumbling past the edge as your orgasm overtakes you.
If you’d nearly been falling over before this, you almost crumple to the floor with all the pleasure coursing through you now. Wonwoo’s free arm loops around your waist, and he presses you closer to the wall, keeping you propped up while his hand continues between your shaking thighs.
He releases a low groan, and you can feel his cock pressing through his pants by your hip. You feel delirious already, body pulsing, skin tingling. Wonwoo’s broad shoulders are your lifeline, and you grip them desperately, taking everything he has to give you like the good girl you are.
“Wonwoo-” you whimper, seeking out his lips, cupping his face to draw him closer. His tongue glides against your own, and you’re enough of a distraction that his fingers begin to slow inside of you.
Finally, he pulls his hand away from between your thighs, dragging his lips from yours so he can sink his digits into his mouth. You watch him lick them clean, listening to the groan of satisfaction that escapes him while you do your best to catch your breath.
“You’re always so good for me,” Wonwoo tells you, lifting his gaze to yours again.
You swallow thickly, mind swimming, searching for a response. “You deserve it,” you assure him finally.
“And I know what you deserve tonight,” he retorts.
In one quick motion, he lifts you up bridal style. One of your stilettos crashes to the floor from the sudden way your body has just been swung like a rag doll, but neither of you care as Wonwoo carries you through the apartment toward the bedroom.
You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Wonwoo always makes you feel like a princess, and he looks like a classic prince while doing it. His side profile is so regal- all sharp bones and pretty lips. God- how did you ever get this lucky?
When you get to your destination, Wonwoo is gentle when he sets you onto the mattress. He straightens and looks down at your form, letting out a deep breath.
“Can you take that pretty dress off for me, honey?” he asks, already shrugging off his suit jacket and setting it over a chair nearby.
“Of course, daddy,” you grin, reaching down to grab at the hem of the silky outfit, dragging it up your thigh.
His eyes are glued to you even as he works on his cuff links, and you take your sweet time as he makes it to the buttons of his shirt. The dress has a corset style back, and you tug on the ribbon before slowly working it open.
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, but you can see his breathing pick up as the fabric gets less tight on your chest, revealing more and more of your bralessness.
When he makes it to his pants, you remove the dress, leaving you in nothing but your thong, which is soaked through.
Your fiance swallows thickly. “Panties too, honey. I don’t think I have the patience to wait any longer tonight.”
His lack of patience is clear in the way his cock slaps up against his abdomen, released by the pants now pooled by his feet.
Wonwoo looks like a fucking God, especially while naked. He’s lean but muscled, and you’ve spent hours tracing each ridge and bone. His cock is an impressive length of around seven inches, it’s pale like the rest of him, but when he’s really turned on, it flushes in colour.
Right now, his cock is a pinkish red, and you can see the angry tip already leaking desperately.
You stand up, sneaking a kiss to his lips while hooking your fingers in your panties. Pushing them down, you get onto your knees.
“Honey, you don’t have to-”
“Maybe I’m impatient too, have you ever thought of that, daddy?” you ask, grabbing the base of his length and leaning forward to kitten lick the tip.
Wonwoo releases a low groan, reaching down to thread his fingers through your hair.
“I’ve missed you,” you murmur, enjoying the way he reacts when you kiss his cock gently. “Missed the weight of you in my mouth.”
“Fuck-”
It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and the word goes straight to your core.
“Can I touch myself while I suck you off, daddy?”
“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” he admits. “I want you dripping when I finally pull you off my cock and fuck you the way you like it.”
You whimper, your whole body alight with energy as you take him into your mouth. You’re already practically drooling from his fingers earlier and the dirty talk now, which makes it easy to coat him in spit.
You’ve never been able to take all of Wonwoo in your mouth, but you do your best, gripping the base and bobbing your head while you begin to toy with your clit.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Wonwoo groans, taking a deep breath as his hand guides you on his cock. “Always so good for me.”
The praise only makes you suck on him harder. You sink so far down onto him that his tip hits the back of your throat. You feel yourself constrict around him and Wonwoo lets out a loud moan, fingers flexing in your hair.
“Careful, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he tells you, but his voice has lost it’s usual commanding tone. He’ll let you do anything you want to him, even if it means gagging on cock- but he’ll do his best to be gentle with you verbally at least.
You get lost in the feeling of pleasuring him, closing your eyes and letting your mouth show him how much you’ve missed him… however, not in so many words.
Actions speak volumes, especially in this case.
You continue working on your pussy too, eventually slipping two fingers into your wet core, which makes you moan around Wonwoo’s cock.
“Honey-” he groans.
You can tell that he’s on the verge of breaking, so you pull off his length, looking up at him while catching your breath. “Ready to fuck me now, daddy?”
“I’ve been ready all night,” he grins, reaching down to grab your hand and help you to your feet.
He kisses you then, cupping your face and leaning forward, taking your breath away all over again. His palm flatens against the small of your back and he dips you backward- then you’re falling, a small squeal escaping you-
The fall is only an inch or two, and you hit the mattress, Wonwoo bearing down on your form almost immediately. You grab at his shoulders as his lips find yours, your legs wrapping around his lean hips to tug him closer.
His cock is still wet with your spit, and it rubs deliciously through your soaked folds, bumping your clit and making you moan into the kiss.
As impatient as Wonwoo seemed to be, he’s not quick to adjust himself against you- or at least, not quick enough for your liking, so you reach between your bodies and grab his cock, lining him up with your wet hole.
Wonwoo grins against your lips, and in one motion, he sinks into your core.
You moan loudly, digging your nails into his strong shoulders and throwing your head back as he fills you perfectly, stretching out your walls.
Your fiance takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, finding your sweet spot.
He feels like heaven- you’re really not sure how long you’ll be able to last tonight, but that’s never mattered with Wonwoo. You have forever with this man, which means you can be as fast or slow as you’d like to be.
He begins to thrust in and out of your core, and it makes you cry out again, walls contracting around his cock. You can feel him so deeply, especially as he adjusts your legs, pushing your thighs closer to your chest.
“Wonwoo-” you whimper, not a care in the world for using a ‘correct’ title. Your fiance might enjoy the daddy kink, but he’s never been the type to punish you for slipping up and calling him something different.
It’s clear to both of you how far gone you are, and Wonwoo only grins against your throat, picking up his pace.
“How about you rub your clit for me, honey?” he asks.
You’re not one to question him, and your hand slips between your bodies to seak out the sensitive nub. More sounds of pleasure escape you as you begin to rub yourself, and your moans only push Wonwoo to fuck you harder.
Each thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, and it’s making you delirious.
Wonwoo finds your free hand, threading your fingers and using you as leverage as he presses you against the mattress. His breath is hot on your throat, but soon he’s seaking out your lips again, and you eagerly kiss him as if your life depends on it.
There’s an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, spurred on by your fingers on your clit and the cock filling you up with each rough thrust.
Wonwoo doesn’t need to check in on you, and you don’t need to tell him you’re close, you’re certain he can tell. He tightens his grip on your hand, a silent invitation to let go whenever you want.
Each drag of his cock against your inner walls draws you closer and closer to the edge, and when he breaks the kiss to lick your throat, it allows you to focus entirely on the pleasure between your legs.
“Fuck, daddy-” you whimper, back arching as you shift below him.
“I know, honey,” he groans. “Me too.”
“Yeah?” Your body jitters with near orgasmic bliss. “Can you cum with me?”
“Of course, just tell me when.”
“Please-” you moan, writhing against the sheets as he fucks you even harder. “Please, daddy- I want you to fill me up-”
Wonwoo groans, teeth dragging by the sensitive skin of your throat.
“Please, please- fuck, I’m almost there-” you rub your clit harder, body tensing on the precipice of your orgasm-
“Shit,” Wonwoo tightens his grip on your hand to the point where it almost hurts- and even though he doesn’t say it, it’s clear to you that he’s reached his own high.
The thought that Wonwoo is so turned on he’s just cum before you - something that never happens - is enough to drag you over the edge, your core clamping down on his cock, eager to milk him for everything he’s worth while you cry out in ecstasy.
He’s gasping against your throat, thrusts even deeper now- slow, steady little ruts as he coats your insides with him cum, filling you up perfectly.
You get lost in the feeling of him, squeezing his hand back as a silent encouragement while your pussy continues to squeeze his cock, eager to get every last drop.
When he finally comes to a stop, he simply lays on top of you for a moment, the both of you breathing heavily.
“Wonwoo?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I’ve just remembered-” you pull your hand away from your clit, instead moving to stroke his hair, “What did Seungcheol mean about the penthouse you were looking at?”
Wonwoo lets out a small chuckle. “Do you really want me to spoil the surprise?”
“Yes, please.”
Your fiance pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. “I’ve been thinking we might need a bigger place… one that could accommodate a few extra rooms.”
“Extra rooms?” you cock a brow.
“For any kids we might have, you know, after we’re married.”
Your entire body tingles with excitement.
While the two of you have talked about children in a general manner before, nothing has ever been set in stone. But you suppose now that you’re engaged, it’s natural this sort of thing would be on Wonwoo’s mind.
“How do you feel about that?” Wonwoo asks.
“I feel like…” you swallow thickly, “I want you to fill me up again, and also that I should book a doctor's appointment to discuss going off birth control.”
“I can definitely help you with that first one,” Wonwoo grins, pressing chaste kisses all across your face while you giggle and hold him tighter.
“We’re really doing this,” you whisper.
Wonwoo’s thumb brushes by the ring on your wedding finger. “Honey, I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.”
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🔮 preview. You pull away just as his lips are about to meet yours. “You know how appreciative I am whenever daddy gets me a present,” you say, acting innocent. This only makes him laugh, and he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You know buying things for you does the same thing to Wonwoo that it does to you. He loves seeing the excitement in your eyes, the way you light up at gifts. He truly lives to provide for you.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, mentions of breeding kink/wanting to get reader pregnant, sugar daddy Wonwoo, daddy kink, soft dom!Wonwoo, oral, pussy eating, fingering, breif edging, squirting, groping, sickly sweet loved up sex, crying during sex cuz reader is so in love, mentions of pain kink, hair pulling, teasing, dirty talk, fucking on a kitchen counter, Wonwoo talks about reader getting ‘plump’ with pregnancy, he adores the ‘soft bits’, etc. I petnames. (hers) honey (his) daddy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k I teaser wc. 300
🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
bonus
“Can I take this off yet?” you ask, wobbling in your heels as you grab at the silk blindfold blocking your vision.
“Be patient, honey,” Wonwoo breathes in your ear, his hands firm on your hips as he guides you to whatever surprise destination he has in store for you tonight.
Christmas is a week away, and the last time he blindfolded you like this was for your birthday. He’d taken you to a Mercedes dealership to let you choose any car you wanted. You have no clue what he has in store for you now, and you’re practically shaking with excitement.
You know he’s driven you somewhere, and you’ve been in an elevator, so it must not be another car- your list of gift possibilities is somewhat thin. You have a hunch, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself just in case you’re wrong about where your fiance is leading you.
Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and his hands stop you in your tracks. His breath is hot by your ear a moment later, and he lets out something like a contented sigh. “Okay. Let me help you take this off.”
His deft fingers work at the loose knot behind your head; soon the blindfold slips away.
Your eyes adjust to the light, and you blink while taking in the space in front of you. You’re in a large open-concept kitchen, a living room sprawled in front of you with views of the whole city. The decor is lavish luxury, and you recognize the design concept as a Choi Seungcheol special when you notice a specific lighting fixture that Cheol puts in all his expensive builds.
“Wonwoo-” you breathe, mind spinning.
The man behind you flattens his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your frame while he rests his head on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”
“Is this…”
“It’s ours,” your fiance confirms. “I wanted to show it to you on Christmas day, but I couldn’t help myself.”
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permanent fix
soulmate au + a/b/o
paring: alpha atsumu x fem beta reader
warnings: bullying, dub-con, atsumu is not nice, smut, slight breeding kink, biting, blood, choking, mirror sex, possessiveness, jealousy, alpha rut, atsumu talks shit, dramatic atsumu
word count: 2.2k
english is not my first language. please excuse any mistakes
Born as a beta, you never thought fate would toy with you by giving an alpha as your soulmate. Especially not one like Miya Atsumu, the one whom you went to school through college with and still having to see his face ever so frequently as if he had sworn to never let you live in peace.
For someone who made faces when seeing the lunchboxes your mom packed for you and proclaimed a beta was weak when you first presented at fifteen, Miya Atsumu couldn’t seem to detach himself from you.
So when you had a crush on one of your colleagues at twenty five, having his nose in your business as usual, Atsumu knew instantly.
“Another beta.” Lying comfortably on your couch, Atsumu scoffed. “Predictable.”
“Didn’t ask for your opinions.”
“I’m giving it anyway,” he said in a singsong voice, but his face was without mirth. “You can fuck whoever you want, but I’m getting my fix. That’s non-negotiable.”
Oh, yeah. His fix.
He patted his lap. “Come here.”
Then it all began again. Him cradling you in his lap, hands going all over, lips spilling hateful words.
‘Weak fucking beta.’ He would say. ‘Even Osamu got an omega soulmate. Makes me jealous as fuck.’
But then he would kiss you like the world might end tomorrow, doing everything opposite of what he said. This time was no different. His hot tongue was everywhere he could reach, acquainted itself with yours before leaving a wet trail down your neck.
You protested when he nipped a little too hard, scared he might leave marks. He did that once. The deep purple hickey you saw in the mirror after he left your apartment scared the shit out of you. A little more force and teeth could have broken the skin, and that thought caused chills to run all over your body. You didn’t want to bear his marks.
Yet, Atsumu didn’t care. He never did. His hands were now on your buttocks, squeezing hard through your thin pajama bottoms. He moved you to one of his thighs for better concentration. The hands on your butt now rolled your hips back and forth, to the point your moan finally slipped out of your tightly zipped lips and you forgot about the harsh nibbling on your neck.
“Go whore yourself out,” Atsumu whispered. “Like I fucking care.”
Same here, asshole.
You thought, didn’t say out loud.
Touching each other lifted the heavy weight in the heart caused by the act of not accepting the soulmate bond. Nothing more, nothing less. If not for this calling of intimacy both of you obliged to feel, he wouldn’t be here. You knew that. He said it way too many times.
Still, your cheeks were licked, your lips were tasted, neck wet with saliva. You felt like a prey about to be eaten every time he was close. Yes, he may not care. But he sure was possessive enough of things that were given to him.
Whenever you tried to wiggle out of his firm grasp, he tightened his fist. This time was the hardest you ever felt.
—
In more than twenty years of knowing each other, never once did Atsumu come to you when he had gone into rut. So when he called you two in the morning one week after his last fix, ordered you to pack a bag and tell your boss you would be on leave for a week, you were baffled. It was never more than kisses and touches with him. Your clothes were always intact and on. The idea of that being changed had you flat out saying no.
That didn’t stop Atsumu from coming to get you one hour later though. When he saw that you did nothing to get ready, his jaw was clenched. A split second later, he packed your bag himself, shoving clothes and toiletries in without any care. You were still in pajamas when the passenger door was slammed closed and he hit the gas.
—
There were reasons why betas are not for alphas. Physically, they were incompatible. Betas weren’t designed for alpha’s stamina, not to mention one in rut. At one point, you did not care to count anymore how many times you had blacked out. Fading in and out really fucked with your memory. All you remembered was the non-stop pounding, Atsumu’s breath against your face, and his uncharacteristic cooing, praising you as his good girl.
“Knew you were built for me.” The blond menace pulled on both of your wrists, never stopped his thrusting. “Let me knot you again, okay?” When you shook your head, face wet with tears, Atsumu shushed you softly. “Shhhhh. You can do it, I know you can.”
And you could. But it was not without pain.
“Shouldn’t have waited this long,” Atsumu said close to your lips. “You almost got away.”
He talked too much. But it would have been a big fat lie to deny that his words didn’t turn you on. That his vile confession didn’t affect you.
“Bold of you to even think I would let someone else touch you.” He sounded out of breath, closing to his end. “All the effort goes to waste. No no no no.”
You felt it coming, just seconds before. Then your whole body was taken by the waves of thrills and your whole vision turned white. Atsumu was not your first, but as if he was the harbinger of agony, it hurt when he first penetrated, hurt when he knotted. And when you felt a sharp sting at your sensitive neck, you knew he defied the rule of nature once again by marking you.
Fruitless. That was what it would be. Betas were not made for alphas. Mating bites did not forge any bond with the wrong person and would fade over time. But Atsumu had always been stubborn. One bite turned into two, three, then countless. All you felt was pain and the wetness of blood before darkness took your consciousness like the many rounds before.
—
The mating bites faded within two weeks, all except the first mark, proving to you that even biology could not win over destiny. Same went with all other beta-alpha soulmate couples out there after you had done some research. They were rare, but they were there. You shouldn’t have let Atsumu bite you. Should have known better that things could get weird when it came to soulmates. Now, he wouldn’t get off your ass, had the audacity to move his things to your apartment and yours to his, calling you his girlfriend in front of everyone and expecting to see you at his games.
You didn’t even like volleyball to begin with. And as you watched his magnificent tosses to any players he deemed to have high chances to score, you thought of a way to get out of his clutch.
He needed an omega, the correct designation he always longed for. Because even with all the protective caresses and the promise to never let you go, Atsumu was still mean. Like going back to the ninth grade when you put makeup on for the first time and he gave you the nastiest comment that made you go wash everything off in the school toilet, his words still stung badly when he chose to weaponize them.
‘Samu’s mate smells like she needs to be bred.’ He said that nonchalantly one day at Onigiri Miya, sitting side by side with you at the counter where his twin and his mate helped each other with cooking and serving the hungry athletes who were there to celebrate the day’s victory ‘Don’t know how he stands that. So sweet’
Hearing that made your conversation with Hinata pause. His steely gaze was the first thing you saw when turning to face ‘your boyfriend’.
It didn’t end there. For days Atsumu was in a devilish mood, his jabs that you knew most of them were meant to just rile you up for fun had become a real emotional harm. He still fucked you, make no mistake about that. And it was as devilish as his temper.
‘Too hard, Miya. Too hard.’ You still wouldn’t call him by his first name.
Veiny hands wrapped snugly around your neck, Atsumu only went faster after hearing that. The bathroom mirror was foggy with hot steam from the shower, but you could see enough. One of your legs was perched on the counter, allowing the view of his cock pistoning in and out of you, your breasts bouncing fast.
‘Would have been pregnant already if you were an omega.’ The sentence came out coated with his accent, thicker than normal, like he didn’t have full control of how he spoke. ‘But that’s alright. I can take my time with you. We’ll get there,’ he purred. ‘Still, what a shame, huh?’
Shame his ass for saying that and not letting you leave. ‘Go fuck an omega then.’
He smirked. Pissed you off. ‘Nah.’
As his toss to Sakusa scored a winning point, the loud cheer brought you back to the present. You saw Atsumu eyes staring up at you from the court below and knew what you had to do.
—
Getting an omega who wanted to spend a heat with Miya Atsumu was easy enough. Sending her up to your apartment where he was already there waiting for you was as simple. You drove away then, not far, stopping at your favorite 24-hour cafe because you needed somewhere to sit and waited for the first feedback from the omega girl. Half an hour later, you got a call.
The screen showed the female omega’s name. You picked up and said hello, expecting to hear that everything went well and that you could go find somewhere else to sleep for the next five nights.
But you only heard cries. Not of pleasure, just a full-blown crying with hiccups.
“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, frowning. “Talk to me. What happened?”
“He—he screamed—at me,” she spluttered, almost incoherently, “and only asked where you were.”
You cursed quietly, finally able to stop stirring the poor coffee you ordered without any interest in taking a sip. “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know,” she cried. “He left—after the screaming.” Her voice wavered all the more when she kept on trying to speak. “You had to see him. He looked murderous. There was not even a hello. He straight up shouted at me, accusing me of breaking in. When I tried to explain—mentioned you, his face was all red.” A hiccup interrupted the long babbling. “He said he was married to you and showed me the ring.”
You were not sure what crack Atsumu was on, but there was definitely no ring or marriage.
The call was still on when you heard the cafe’s door pushed open. And it was as if you saw the devil with your own naked eyes.
Atsumu walked in.
His strides declared no peace or mercy when he saw you, ignoring the greetings from the two night shift baristas.
Not wanting to cause a scene, you stood up, didn’t say anything when he put his hand on your shoulder and led the way out.
The drive was silent. Your car was left at the parking lot near the cafe, you would have to come and get it as soon as you could before the parking fee turned as murderous as him. When asked where he was going, he answered solemnly, “My place. Yours stinks.”
You just knew it was going to be a long night.
—
Atsumu was the one who got the car out for you the next morning since he was the one who could still walk without wobbling. The sheets you slept on were rumpled. They reeked of cum.
You reeked of cum.
‘You think you’re so funny?’ he asked, knowing you couldn’t answer with his cock occupying your mouth but did it nonetheless ‘You wanted me to fuck her? What was going on in that pretty little head?’
He pulled you by the nape of your neck before pushing your head down, forcing your throat to take more of him till you felt the urge to gag.
‘I thought we had an understanding, baby,’ he said, finally relenting his grip on your head. ‘No whoring yourself out.’ Then he stressed, ‘And no whoring me out. I’m yours.’
‘Do you understand?’
You only nodded.
‘Words.’
‘Yes, Miya.’
‘Atsumu,’ he said, looking like he wanted to throw up. ‘You’re not fucking my brother. Don’t make me imagine that. Call me Atsumu.’
‘Yes, Tsumu.’
Looked like you delivered. Atsumu grinned from ear to ear. ‘Good girl. My best girl.’
That was last night.
A warm kiss to the cheek woke you again, must have dozed off after Atsumu left, but those scenes were not a dream. You heard him whisper,
“I got your car. Parked it at your place.”
He looked like he got a ten-hour sleep while you could not move a limb without feeling sore. Not fair. And the way he looked so good in sheep’s clothing, his wolf’s skin all hidden. Not fair at all.
“Shower.” Your voice was hoarse, but you got the message through. That was good enough.
#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu smut#miya atsumu x y/n#miya atsumu x you#haikyu fanfiction#haikyu x reader#haikyuu smut#hq smut#hq x reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x reader#yandere haikyuu#haikyuu dark content#soulmate au#a/b/o au#omegaverse#a/b/o#haikyuu x reader
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Hey Jade!!! I was just wondering if you could do a soulmate au with Spencer please? Maybe something along the lines of those cheesy ones like the first words are tattooed on or they have the same tattoo idk, whatever you u feel like 😊
—Spencer meets his soulmate. You’re as lovely as he’s always pictured. fem, 1.3k
Someone will love me one day.
Spencer must think it a thousand times. When he has to put his mom in the sanitarium and he feels more alone than he ever has in his life, he knows one day someone will love him anyways. When he gets called ugly, too skinny, nerd, dork, and a handful of words that are even worse, he knows one day someone will say the opposite. He won’t be alone forever.
He was two when they appeared, dark black cursive words tucked against his pulse. Spencer felt ugly nearly every day of his life, wrong and weird, but the words on his wrist have never changed, ‘You’re so handsome I can’t believe it’s you.’
One day someone’s gonna look at him and see handsome.
Today, he feels pretty good. He’s back home in Washington, D.C., the grocery store he loves is open again after a long reconstruction, and they had a bunch of fruit from South America that he’s never tried before. He carries a white plastic bag full of fruit, bread and cheese back to his apartment, each step in the sunshine, the kiss of it warming his cheeks. A busker plays music near the mouth of the subway station. Nobody has yet to scowl at him for being in the way.
He’s wondering what he forgot when he sees you. You’re smiling, the sun on your face and arms, which are strangely full. Books slide against your chest, but besides a little huff and a shift of your elbow, you don’t seem to notice the slim paperback working its way through the crowd in your arms. It drops down onto the sidewalk but you keep walking. You must be in a hurry.
Spencer darts forward to your dropped book, thumb under the title. Charlotte’s Web by E. B White. The spine is flaking and soft from use.
He should call out for you. You’re already getting too far away.
Spencer crosses the road and dives deeper into the city with you. Washington, D.C. isn’t without grandeur —it’s the capital of the USA— and so he finds himself surrounded by potted trees and stretches of well tended grass. School’s broken for the day, children weaving around on bikes and scooters or holding hands with their parents taking up altogether too much space. He loses you in the crowd.
Spencer stops in defeat.
Maybe if he puts the book back in your path you’ll see it on the way back.
He’s not sure why he doesn’t. Spencer keeps your book and starts to walk home. This isn’t how he’d usually get there, but he can manoeuvre around the park.
He keeps an eye out for you. Ridiculously, he’d thought about giving the book back to you and making you smile. He hasn’t talked to anyone who wasn’t a cashier in two days.
“Hi.”
Spencer looks down. “Hi,” he says, spooked by the little girl in front of him.
“Is that for the library?”
He shakes his head regretfully. “No, I– I found it. I’m trying to give it back.”
“Okie dokie. I never read that one before.”
“I’m sorry, it’s not my book to give away… Where’s your mom?”
The little girl points at a mom and a younger child playing on the grass near a circle of benches. There’s a huge dark cabinet with its doors skewed open in the middle, and when he squints he realises it’s full of books. “Oh, is that the library?” he asks.
“Yes!” the little girl insists.
“Okay, well, here’s what we’ll do,” he says, looking desperately for you, disappointed when he can’t see a sign of your nice blue shirt or your sunny smile, “let me go see if I can find the lady who dropped this book, and if she says it’s okay, I’ll keep it for you to have. But you can’t run off from your mom again. Deal?”
The girl grins, thick hair shiny in the sun. “Deal!” she says, running in a burst toward her mother, who startles when she realises she’d left in the first place.
Spencer creeps toward the library. He can’t leave the book here now, he’s promised he’ll try to find you.
You come around the back of the library cabinet with a smile. Free Library, the sign says. Take one if you want, leave one if you can.
You stop in your path when you see him. You smile again, you’re prettier for it, lovely with the sun on half your face, your slight squint. You open your mouth to speak.
Spencer beats you to it. “Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you,” he says, raising your copy of Charlotte’s Web to his chest. “You dropped one of your books.”
You take a half step back.
Spencer grimaces. “I promised a little girl I’d ask if she can have it, I’m so sorry. I get stuck and I don’t know how to say no.”
Your eyes flash down to your hands. “You’re so handsome,” you say, and Spencer’s heart stops dead in his chest, your lips shaping each word without measure and somehow the prettiest anyone’s ever looked as they move, “I can’t believe it’s you.”
His shoulders sag with a deep breath.
You raise your arm to show him the contrasting font laid against your pulse. Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you.
Spencer shows you his. You’re so handsome, I can’t believe it’s you.
“It’s you,” he says.
You press your hand to your mouth. “I was walking too fast, right? When I was a kid I thought if I made everybody chase me that eventually somebody would have to say it, but then it stuck, and I rush everywhere I go.” Your voice turns breathless. “But you’re the person who was supposed to catch up to me.”
He smiles softly. “I think so.”
“And I just told you you’re handsome. I’m sorry, I bet that was embarrassing to… carry around, all this time.”
“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me,” he says honestly.
“I didn’t think you’d be so pretty,” you explain.
“I knew you would be.”
You hold your hand out. He’s about to tell you he doesn’t shake but he finds he really wants to, and you’re not shaking his hand anyways, you’re holding it, looking at the cursive on his arm with a disbelief he echoes in his own smile. You rub the tip of your thumb over the word handsome.
“Do you like books?” he asks.
You nod distractedly. “I love them,” you murmur, looking up.
His entire arm is alive with tingles.
“Do you read much?” you ask.
Every word you trade with one another has this shy longing he’s never felt, like you’re desperate to know about one another but worried you aren’t allowed to ask. Spencer’s about to tell you all about it, how he’s always reading, how books have been with him through everything, but there’s a tug on his shirt that stops him.
“Hi,” the little girl says.
Spencer laughs. “Hi.”
“What did she say?” the little girl whispers.
Spencer looks to you for guidance.
“Of course you can have it. It’s an amazing book,” you say.
“Thank you!” she says, holding out her hands.
Spencer doesn’t mind handing it over. If she didn’t ask him for it earlier, he might’ve never had the courage to look for you. He could’ve left the book in the cabinet and turned around, but he didn’t. And now he’s met you.
You step into his side. “Did you– do you want to get coffee?” You peer down at the bag now slipped from his elbow down to his wrist. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Do you want to have a picnic with me?” he asks.
You nod for so long he has to laugh. “I’d love to,” you say, offering your open hand.
Spencer threads your fingers together. That one day he always dreamed of seems a lot closer than it did before.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Dead on Main AU 3
Masterpost
So this one is a bit longer, but that's because part of it is the same phone conversation from the other side.
~~~~~
“Road trip!” Dick calls out. All of the- siblings(?)-younger people start to scramble before Bruce calls out for them to stop.
“This is going to be a 12 hour drive one-way, which means we won't be back until dinner tomorrow at the earliest. Not all of you can go.” This causes a lot of frowns and Danny holds in a chuckle. They start arguing over why they should be able to go and Bruce pinches his nose, right between his eyes as they shout at him.
“First and Foremost, I do believe that Masters Duke, Damian, and Stephanie have school tomorrow.” Alfred inserts. Everyone quiets to listen to him, Danny notes. Everyone else they’ll talk over, he must be important, be extra nice to him.
The three must sigh and sit back down at the table.
“Cass, if you wouldn’t mind staying to keep them out of trouble overnight. I’m sure Alfred will see them out to school.”
Cass shrugs, then signs at Dick who responds “Of course!” Danny hadn’t realized that she was speaking sign language this whole time.
Bruce then turns to face Dick and Tim. “You have absolutely no way to keep us from coming.” Dick sing-songs.
“You both have work tomorrow.”
“Actually, Dick and I called out ten minutes ago, family emergency.” Tim shrugs. “We won’t be in for a few days unless things change.”
“Alright, go grab your things.” They both whoop and you can just tell they were both about to start running when they catch eyes with Alfred and just start walking really fast. “Pack light, and grab some changes of clothes for Jason!”
Before they can leave a phone starts ringing. They all look around before all eyes settle back on Danny. He feels around his pockets for where the phone is, before pulling it out and seeing his own number on the caller ID.
“Oh, it’s me!” Danny hurries to pick up as he hears someone mutter “Why didn’t we think of that?” from the table. Dick and Tim are almost immediately right next to him as he mumble out a hello.
“Um, hello, Jason?”
“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?” His heart thumps when he hears his own voice coming out the other side of the phone. It somehow makes the whole situation seem a bit more real then it did before.
“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”
“Hey, we’re his family”
“We’re all his brothers and Cass is his sister.”
“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?”
So much talking at once, Danny tries to focus on his own voice coming through the phone. It’s a little deeper than it usually is, gruffer and lilted like it’s trying to talk in an accent the mouth isn’t familiar with shaping. Danny supposes the voice he’s speaking with now must be doing the same.
“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason sighs loud enough to hear over the phone and Danny chuckles at the response.
“Right, well your name is Danny right?”
“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?” They were all home the last he checked, and Jazz usually tells him before she heads out.
“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”
“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Danny rubs a hand down his face just thinking of that - his homework- being his soulmate's first real impression of him.
“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”
Danny shakes off the embarrassment “I think so?”
“Of course we are!”, “Was he not paying any attention as we decided who should go?”, “We were just planning.” There are so many people talking at once again.
Danny pulls his face away from the phone and turns to the room at large “Stop it, buzz off!”. He turns to face a wall and takes a few steps away. “They said yes.”
“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”
Danny hums, focused on something else. “Look, I do need to warn you…” what if he goes ghost, can he go ghost with Jason in his body? What are his parents working on today? “ about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”
“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?” Weird ice mist coming out of your mouth would be pretty unexplainable at the moment, but random things shooting at him can be avoided!
“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.” Almost everything in that lab is to be avoided, although since he is already in Danny’s body he shouldn’t be bothered by the potential radiation.
“Kid, what?”
“This is really an in-person talk.”
Danny does not know how he would explain this over the phone, with a room of eavesdroppers behind him. Although they’ve become respectfully quiet, more whispers than anything now.
“Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”
“Yep!” That would be best, Jazz will definitely help him. “Is there anything I should know?”
“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”
Danny laughs and puts the phone on speaker before calling out to the room, “You’re on speaker!” so everyone in the room knows as well as Jason.
“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”
“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick has bounded back over to Danny, right up in the personal space.
“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells from the table, where she continued eating at some point.
“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”
Danny starts laughing so hard he doesn’t register everyone else in the room having frozen at the outburst.
“Oh, wow, same.” Danny gets out once he can breathe again.
The room is staring at him again, but they seem to do that a lot.
“You must be Jazz.” They hear coming through the phone. “I’m Jason.”
“Jazz!” Danny calls out.
“Danny would like to talk to you.” There’s a small shuffle.
“Danny?”
“Hey, Jazz! So, apparently I’m the younger, so today’s the day. I’m with his family right now.”
“You have a plan? Are you coming home?”
“Yeah, just. Would you mind keeping an eye on Jason until I get there? It’s going to be a long drive so could you make sure nothing shoots him and that he gets edible food?”
“I’ll take him to Nasty for dinner, don’t worry.” Danny sighs in relief, he knew Jazz would help, but he did not need his soulmate food fighting with dinner.
“Sounds good, he’s in my body so he shouldn’t really be poisoned but Mom and Dad still can’t really cook. Speaking of which! He is in my body so if anything happens with the, um, medical condition, help him through that as well.”
“Of course, Danny.”
“Thanks Jazz! We were just deciding who was coming along, but apparently, it's about a 12-hour drive? So, you guys won’t see us until tomorrow.” There’s a lot unspoken in this conversation, but Danny knows she’ll do her best. “Try not to interrogate him, and no psychoanalyzing!”
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DC X DP Soulmarks AU. Everyone has a soulmark somewhere on their body. The mark heats up if you’re in the same city as your soulmate
So Dani is around 17. Her soulmark is the green silhouette of Cujo just above her. She been traveling for around 5 years now. Jazz (23) lives in Gotham as a therapist. The Anti ecto acts are in place.
Damian is also 17. His mark is on his hip, just below his shirt hem. It doesn’t really matter if he’s Robin or a different vigilante. Attends Gotham academy as a senior. Damian was always taught to believe that his soulmate was a weakness.
Dani stops by Gotham for the first time since Jazz moved there, and she decides she to stay after her soulmark heats up. After a little bit of forging, she attends GA as a senior. She covers her soulmark with pants and stuff like that.
She and Damian have a few classes together, and they get paired up for a project.
They go to library to study and found that they both enjoy each others company a lot more than they thought they would. They keep hanging out until they start to have a small crush on each other.
Damian doesn’t mention Dani to the Wayne brood in case they might pester him and stalk him and ruin his chances with Dani.
One day, they are hanging out and Dani’s pant leg slides up a bit and Damian saw Dani’s soulmark.
That same hour, Damian’s shirt rides up and Dani see his soulmark.
They essentially have the same reaction.
Dani: Damian is literally perfect and I’m so happy he’s my soulmate but we can’t be together because I’m a halfa and the AEA are ongoing so it’s too dangerous to tell him
Damian: Dani is literally perfect and I’m so happy she’s my soulmate but we can’t be together because I’m a vigilante and my mother is very deadly and it’s too dangerous to tell her
They just hide their feelings and continue like nothing every happened
At around the same time, Danny comes to Gotham tour the university when he meets Duke and they realize they’re soulmates.
After a couple of dates. Danny takes Duke to meet Dania me Jazz (Duke knows about Danny’s halfa status)
Duke sees Dani’s mark and asks her about it, thinking it’s a bit familiar.
Dani tells Duke she’s found her soulmate, but they can’t be together for now.
Duke comes home and (after making sure that Damian’s soulmark is the same as Dani’s) tell Damian that he knows who his soulmate is.
Damian confirms that he knows, but can’t be with her because he a vigilante.
Cue the multiple (failed) attempts by Duke and Danny to get them together
Useable as long as you tag me :))
#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#danny phantom#dc x dp prompt#dpxdc#dani fenton#danielle phantom#dp x dc crossover#batman#soulmates#soulmarks#damian x dani#damian wayne#serious chaos#jazz fenton#gotham#duke thomas#duke x danny#bruce wayne#dc robin#the signal#signal dc#dcxdp#dc x dp au#fic summary#Dani and Damian’s are soulmate but don’t end up together bc of identity crap#CVW Fic Summaries
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DpxDc AU: Soulmates only meet in the afterlife...And Danny is dead half of the time.
It was the general consensus that Soulmates did indeed exist, and that there were a couple of hints to know if your soulmate was, but you wouldn’t know for certain until you died. This was often devastating for widows of non-soulmates but... Widows could hear the voices of and feel the phantom touches of their Soulmates. That after their loved one passed away, they didn’t truly leave them.
Soulmates always traveled to the infinite realms together in a pair, unwilling to pass on without the other. This leads to the ghosts that seemingly never moved on and gave Danny so much grief, they needed to pass the time until their loved one died some how.
Danny dies and feels himself talking to himself more often while transformed into Phantom, kicking butt and taking names aside. Just small things to reassure himself, nothing more than an instinct to process the situation he was in with this insane life he was living.
I’m going to be okay, I’m going to get out of this.
I swear to all the ancients that Casper High better make a statue in my honor.
Mom and Dad don’t mean it.
The fundraiser to rebuild Poltergeist Avenue is going to be ridiculous.
Mom and Dad wouldn’t mean it if they really knew.
Nasty burger really should rebrand but my goodness is this the best shit ever.
It takes a few years to think about the fact that he might have a soulmate who could hear him- how unlikely would that be though? It’s not like he was haunting the person, so it probably wasn’t any big issue. Was there a proximity thing involved? Clockwork sighs and gives him no true answers.
...
Tim has been hearing the voice of his Soulmate for years. Not...All the time though. He’d mapped out the time frame by which he did hear the additional male voice, accumulated enough data to determine a general profile and geotagged a few of the landmarks mentioned to find the most likely town. Restaurants, street names, highschools, and notable names all help Tim to find what he’s looking for. The concerning amount of comments on his soulmates parents make Tim’s blood boil and motivate him all the more.
Thing is...Amity Park is under a complete media blackout. The challenge nearly makes him swoon, as if his dead soulmate were leading him towards his favorite hobby (taking down corrupt groups of assholes with too much power, cult or government, was his ideal pass time). He just wants to know who his soulmate was. He wants to know who is waiting for him.
Arriving undercover and unannounced as a random tourist, Tim cannot find his soulmates grave. Can’t find anything about the person who died all those years ago and had spoken in his ear ever since. He’s about to storm the Mayor’s office, his plans for the GIW already in motion, when a ghost attack begins.
Phantom arrives and suddenly Tim understands who exactly he’s been looking for. Getting into the crosshairs of the fight, Tim pulls a few RR moves and Phantom cautiously approaches him after capturing the assailant ghost.
“I’m here because you’re my soulmate, and it’s very interesting that you only talk to me during non-business hours. Care to explain what you’re doing between 9 am and 3 pm, Monday through Friday?”
“Uh... High school mostly. Wait you can hear me? You’re my soulmate?”
Cue Danny de-transformation, explanation of his death and ability to die on command, and Tim’s very softball interrogation with his presentation on how he found Danny through the small conversational phrases.
They kiss as the GIW headquarters explode in the background.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#dc crossover#dp crossover#danny phantom#tim drake#this could work with a number of other soulmates in the JL#It would be interesting with Jason or Damian also since they've died and come back#that got more complicated than i wanted to write tho lmao#soulmate au
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romantic dreams | jeon jungkook
summary: he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bear.
➣ genre/au: yandere jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], neighbors au, smut, angst
➣ 23.9k words
warnings: yandere. smut. jk is obsessed and a stalker. toxic. manipulation. gaslighting. he’s a gym rat who listens to deftones, nirvana, korn, pierce the veil, etc. he watches y/n through cameras. delusional jk. he’s intimidating and a huge asshole to everyone but y/n—like genuinely not a good person lol but he has nipple piercings and a six pack. goth jk. calvin klein jk. sort of mind break. dom/sub/switch themes but not intense. rough, passionate sëx. multiple rounds. oral [both recieving]. multiple orgasms. jk is kinda really unhinged at the end. he seems more stable than he is. everyone is so oblivious. unprotected smüt but also only for one round [they go for two]. idk lol he’s just a weird guy who likes black and Nirvana or some shit. y/n is cheated on in previous relationship he’s not dangerous I think
[ teaser ] [ video banner ]
[ drabble ] [smut]
[ drabble ]
[ smut drabble ]
[ birthday drabble ] [ smut ]
song inspo: tempest — deftones, and i love her — kurt cobain, blvd. nights — team sleep, new magic wand — tyler, the creator [highly recommend listening so you can get what kind of character Jungkook is]
jungkook’s moodboard | y/n’s moodboard
The music was loud yet you couldn’t make out a single word of it. The beat was strong but with the amount of people packed into the nightclub it seemed to blur out all other noise aside from their talk. You could barely see under the hues of green and blue lights shining down on the crowd and the room had a distinct smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke.
On your back was a firm hand that pushed you through the dancing crowds to get you to the bar and you let them take the lead without question. To your side was a friend of yours who flashed a smile, “Don’t worry, you’re going to get so drunk tonight that you forget about him.”
What she’s really saying is if you don’t want to feel then you better start sipping.
It was just 24 hours ago that you sat down in your living room listening to the guy you had been dating for months tell you that he cheated. He cried his eyes out telling you that it didn’t mean anything and that he would never do it again but it was too late. You didn’t shed a single tear until he was out of your house and that’s when you let the angry tears fall, mad that you were too blind to realize what a piece of shit he was.
Now you were in a little green dress feeling like a heartbroken bitch as you ordered two more drinks and tried to pretend like you’re having a good time when you’re not.
Taehyung watched you chug back another drink with a sigh, “But don’t drink too much, you’ll regret it.”
“I don’t care,” you slurred, tone already a bit off and woozy. Jiyoung combed your hair out of your face, “At least you’re still pretty, drunk or not.”
Not pretty enough if you got cheated on. You smiled as she cupped your face squeezing your cheeks, bloodshot eyes that she couldn’t even see under the changing lights.
“I’m gonna go find Hobi,” Taehyung said as he looked around the packed nightclub, “It’s going to take me forever.”
You nodded your head, “Go ahead, I’m gonna get another drink.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Jiyoung asked and you told her yes. She left with a small smile going with Taehyung to find your friend. Your smile slowly fell as you stood at the bar by yourself looking around at dancing pairs and kissing couples.
You took a deep breath trying to calm your racing heart, hands feeling the heat that radiates off your face and blinking hoping to fight off the burn you felt from not crying.
Once you had your drink you disappeared into the large crowd hoping to find the others.
He was fed up being here. He understands why his friends like to come out and drink but frankly he doesn’t care for their excuses to be able to pick up girls. Every single woman who approached him here are just so boring.
Sure, they’re nice to look at but that’s about it. Listening to their squeaky drunk voices and watching the way they try to dance on him is so tiring. He just wants them all to stop but they won’t and he knows it. He’s attractive, he’s somewhat tall, he’s covered in tattoos and he looks so unapproachable that it — for some reason — always attracts women to him. If he was interested in them then maybe he would feel different but most times he’s just bothered by them.
There might be a rare chance that he takes one home but that happens once every blue moon and even then he doesn’t care for their name or to stay with them the full night. He could live his life without wasting a single second flirting with some girl he met at the club.
His intention right now was to quietly sneak away from his friends while they hit on girls he was very unimpressed with and leave. It reeked of alcohol and he preferred not to get drunk and lose his senses tonight.
He was cutting through the crowd doing his best to avoid being pushed or touched but it didn’t seem to matter.
Goosebumps rose on his skin as he hissed at the sudden cold liquid that spilled onto his shoes and jeans. His face hardened as he smelled the stench of liquor and he immediately looked up annoyed to find the person who spilled their drink on him.
“Shit, I am so sorry,” you said in a somewhat shy voice. You looked from your empty cup to his wet pants and boots, “I—I didn’t mean to bump into you, there’s so many people here—fuck.”
His initial instinct was to chew you out, not caring for what or who you were, but then his eyes met yours and his anger immediately melted away. He couldn’t put his finger on why he was suddenly okay with a stranger spilling their Bloody Mary on his thousand dollar Gucci boots. He was too lost in your bloodshot eyes to say anything—until you dropped down to the floor with a hand on his boot acting like you could just wipe it away.
“Wait!” He nearly shouted as he held you by your arm and pulled you back up, “Don’t. It’s fine, the floor’s dirty.”
“No, please, I am so fucking sorry, oh my god,” you said, drunk out of your mind to fully pay attention to what happened. You looked up to him and you seemed to take a step back in surprise. He was an extremely good looking guy and you’ve just embarrassed yourself in front of him… yet he smiled sweetly instead of yell at you. Will you even remember this moment?
“I’ll just clean them, it’s alright, don’t even worry about it, okay?”
Not fully thinking clearly, you gasped as a sudden idea came to mind, “I’ll go get towels! I’ll um—j-just, y’know wait right here.”
He could hear it in your voice that you maybe drank too much. He looked around to see if a friend of yours might’ve been around watching but he found no one looking in this direction. You were practically running off and it would be a perfect chance to escape another drunk who threw themselves at him but he found himself going after you instead.
The hall toward the restrooms was poorly lit and people lined the walls waiting to go in but that didn’t stop him from cutting through so he could be close enough for you to find him. You were an interesting character.
He could feel some eyes on him but he ignored them easily, choosing instead to smile softly when you stumbled out of the restroom with a handful of paper towels. He reached a hand out to get them but once again you tried getting down to clean his shoes up yourself that it made him laugh lightly. He helped you back up with a hand on your back to keep you from swaying or getting down again—whichever comes first, “I got it.”
You stood back watching him clean his shoes and soak up some of the alcohol from his jeans. You debated if you should leave but when he looked up from his leant over position to see if you were still there, you stayed. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he smiled a genuine smile as he threw the paper towels away in the nearest bin, “Let’s get you another drink.”
“No, I’m done drinking for tonight,” you told him but you left out the part about you already feeling too numb for it, “I’ve already made a fool of myself.” You covered your face behind your hands and he couldn’t help but feel a rush of butterflies in his stomach.
“Don’t say that, it was cute,” he said confidently with a shrug of his shoulders, “Charming even… do you dance?”
“Huh?” You looked at him confused, “Uh, yeah.”
He smiled widely as he began to walk away from you, walking backwards to the dancing crowd, “Then make up spilling your drink on me with a dance?”
You bit your lip and narrowed your eyes as you studied him. You looked around as if in search for your friends but they were busy and you were heartbroken and drunk, and agreeing with a nod of your head. You took his outstretched hand and went with him.
“Where’d Y/n go?”
“Um,” Jiyoung looked around, “Good question, I thought she was getting another drink.”
“Well she’s not at the bar,” Hoseok said with a sigh, “Let’s look for her so we can get out of here finally.”
Your arms were around the stranger’s neck and his were wrapped around your waist keeping you pressed against him as you danced sensually together. You played with the ends of his hair as he looked down at you with an intense gaze, “What’s your name?”
“Y/n,” you said with a light gasp as his head dipped down to hear you better, making you whisper it into his ear. His eyes closed as he felt your face brush against his and he was turning his head slightly to bring his lips closer, “I’m Jungkook.”
You blame the alcohol and the fact that the guy smelled really good for your next actions. It didn’t help that you were still very upset about being cheated on and you weren’t thinking clearly, only looking to feel something else than what you felt right now. So, in your drunken state, you turned your head letting your lips brush against his testing the water out and as he held you tightly, he pressed a kiss to them.
Jungkook released a low moan into your mouth when you kissed him back in need and he found it hard to keep his hands from roaming down your body in your pretty forest green dress. Your tongue swiped along his lip ring making his hands grip the sheer fabric to make sure you didn’t back away before he was done. You were curious about the cold metal and kissed him with a bit of intensity that you seemed to forget where you were or who you were with.
In need of air, you pulled back with your hands slowly slipping away from his neck trying to process the fact that you kissed a stranger without a care in the world.
“Y/n! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
You jumped back startled as you turned around in search for the feminine voice. You looked at Jiyoung who sighed, “We’re leaving, are you ready?”
It was hard to get a good view on Jungkook with how poor the lighting was and how dark his clothes were. He was biting his lip ring as he watched you get dragged away and before he could pull you back to him in hopes of getting your number, you were leaving like he wasn’t even there.
Like you forgot about him already.
There was a quickening pace to his heart. Sweat dripped down his forehead that he wiped away with his forearm as he looked at his friend through the mirrored wall. Just behind them he had a clear view of some woman looking at them. His friend noticed her too, “She’s had her eye on you for a while now.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything as he switched with Namjoon and laid down. Namjoon made sure to spot him as he began to bench press, muscles bulging with each set he did.
“I’m serious, man, and she’s hot,” Namjoon looked behind him to catch the girl running on the treadmill as her gaze shifted shyly at being caught. He was getting a little pissed that his friend does not care that he’s being eye fucked at the gym.
This was just like Jungkook too, he never showed any sight of interest in anything. He always had a bored expression on his face like he was waiting for something worth his while to happen. Namjoon’s learned to get over it because if Jungkook didn’t like hanging out with him then they wouldn’t be friends. Jungkook isn’t the type to waste his breath reassuring things like that and he definitely does not waste his time thinking of someone.
If Namjoon got half as many women checking him out as Jungkook does, he would find a girlfriend in no time—but no, he has to stand to his side and watch his friend pay absolutely no attention to any woman who expressed even the slightest hint of interest in him. Maybe he has to applaud Jungkook for this, he seems to have standards and sticks to them because in their years long friendship he’s only met one of his girlfriend’s before. He was extremely private about his sex life too so they never shared any locker room talk and Namjoon has just learned that’s how he is.
“Should we do one more?” Jungkook asked as he placed the dumbbell back into its holders and sat up panting. He looked behind him just slightly and caught sight of the bleached blond on the treadmill. She hasn’t taken her eyes off him since she got here and it’s really starting to piss him off.
“Sure,” Namjoon said, switching Jungkook, “I don’t get how you seem to just ignore every woman who looks at you.”
Jungkook looked down at him as Namjoon caught a good grip on the dumbbell, “I wouldn’t disrespect the person I’m seeing by entertaining someone else.”
Namjoon nearly dropped the dumbbell on himself as he jumped up to a sitting position and looked at his friend dumbfounded, “You’re seeing someone?”
That made the corners of Jungkook’s lips turn upward and he tried to bite back a smile, his dimples still showed. Namjoon was no longer sitting and it seemed like the end of their workout so he began to clean the equipment. Jungkook cleared his throat, “Sort of.”
Wordlessly, they began to leave toward the locker room and Jungkook walked right past the blond without sparing her a single glance. He smiled, “Y/n.”
“Huh?” Namjoon asked, “Is that who you’re sort of seeing?”
“Mhm,” Jungkook nodded with a smile that had Namjoon surprised. He very rarely sees this much emotion from Jungkook and compared to his usual cool exterior, this was a bit unsettling. The two went straight for their lockers as they took their gym bags out and got ready to leave. Namjoon cleared his throat, “Do you have a picture? I need a visual of who this person is.”
It was just so sudden after he had these thoughts of how Jungkook showed absolutely no interest in anyone and kept his sex life extremely private. Namjoon always thought it was just because he was a womanizer and didn’t feel like bragging about all the women he’s seeing. It is just surprising that all of a sudden Jungkook would show so much emotion bringing someone up.
Jungkook didn’t give him an answer aside from fishing his phone out of his pocket and immediately showing him his lock screen. Namjoon looked at the picture clearly.
“Wow,” Namjoon said with, “Now I see why you don’t bat an eye at anyone else.”
It was a good candid photo of you, like you didn’t even know it was being taken. You were sitting outside having dinner and it was a perfect snapshot of your smile. You were looking at something off camera but Namjoon did have to admit that you were very attractive.
He missed the way Jungkook’s eyes darkened the longer Namjoon looked at your picture and decided to lock his phone and put it away, “Ready?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon said as he grabbed his car keys while Jungkook grabbed his and his helmet, “So why haven’t I met this Y/n, yet?”
Look, he knows that the two of you aren’t dating yet, he’s not that crazy, but it’ll happen soon and he has a very strong reason to back it. Jungkook wasn’t smiling anymore but Namjoon couldn’t see it as he walked behind him, “You know I like things kept private.”
“I mean yeah but… I don’t know, you’ve never brought her up before. When did you start seeing her?” Namjoon asked just trying to have a casual conversation with Jungkook before they split up.
“I said sort of.”
“What?”
“Earlier you asked me if I was seeing Y/n and I said sort of,” Jungkook said with a tightened smile, “No need to bring anyone around yet.”
Namjoon didn’t have a chance to say much after that, Jungkook got on his motorcycle and left with a little wave. This felt like news of the century, Jungkook very rarely smiles the way he smiled when he first brought you up.
Look, he knows that the two of you aren’t dating yet, he’s not that crazy, but it’ll happen soon and he has a very strong reason to back it.
Who were you exactly?
You took a deep breath as you unlocked your front door and walked into a pitch black apartment. The light flickered on behind you and a small cat curled around your legs the second you were inside.
“Armani!” Your friend said with a soft gasp as he bent down to pick up the feline. Your cat let Taehyung pick him up and walk him around your living room as you put your things away.
“Looks like your neighbor’s home,” Taehyung pointed out as he stood near the window of your apartment swatting away hanging plants. Armani hopped out of his arms and onto his scratching post where he usually lounged in for naps or ripping at your Tillandsia. “You think he watches you sleep?”
“Shut up,” you told him with a roll of your eyes, “Do you want a drink?”
“Water” Taehyung asked with a cheeky grin before looking back to the window, “And you know I’m joking… I’m just saying though, he always has his curtains drawn and sometimes I catch him looking over here.”
“All that’s telling me is that I need to stop inviting you over,” you said as you grabbed a bottle of Soju and a bowl of chips. You couldn’t help but look out your window.
Your neighbor was an attractive man. He had a sleeve of tattoos and a broad chest, a six pack and… nipple piercings. It’s not that you’re a creep or anything but he likes to lounge around his living room and bedroom without a shirt on and his curtains open. Sometimes he would step out of the shower with only a towel around his small waist as he looked for clothes in his bedroom and you would have to immediately close your curtains so you weren’t a peeping Tom.
He moved in a few weeks ago and since then you’ve found yourself battling over the fact that you’ll never attract a man as gorgeous as him no matter what Taehyung says. Since the beginning Taehyung has believed that your neighbor seems to have a liking toward you. If you were honest, when you first saw him there was something familiar there but as hard as you tried, you couldn’t put your finger on it.
Your best friend is over at your place more often than not and he’s noticed some things. For instance, the day he moved in Taehyung was over and like the nosy neighbor you were, the two of you stared out the window and watched him unload boxes. Taehyung swears he saw a look in your neighbor’s eyes when he looked at you that immediately disappeared when he saw he was there too.
Then, there was that time when you were having dinner with your friends. Taehyung pointed out seeing your neighbor and how close he was sitting outside and you just brushed it off. He lives in your neighborhood now, that meant that he most likely frequented the same restaurants as you. He notes every time your neighbor seems to glance out the window toward your place but you don’t think anything of it. These apartments have poor lighting and the only way you get natural light is by having the windows open. In truth, Taehyung has watched way too many true crime documentaries and has gotten a bit paranoid.
“Whatever,” Taehyung sighed, “I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt you to give him a little show and see if you’ll get laid.”
That only seemed to annoy you a little more. You’ve been single for weeks now and yes, you’re over being upset but that doesn’t mean you want to jump right out and find someone new to bone. Jiyoung has already done a good job reminding you about the guy she found you making out with weeks ago.
It’s sad to say you can’t remember him because you were drunk and maybe he forgot all about you too. Shame, he was a good kisser.
It only took you a couple days to see the man up close. You had just gotten home from work when you spotted an Amazon box outside the door of your building. Your original plan was to just walk past it but then you thought about the act of karma. You read the address hoping to at least put it inside the building but it wasn’t the right one. You lived in an apartment complex with six separate buildings and this was supposed to go next door.
You thought about leaving it outside like the delivery driver did but then you thought about it being your package and if someone were to take it. In the end you decided to head next door and deliver to the person’s doorstep.
The one thing you hadn’t expected was for the said person to open the door just as you’re setting the box down, and you much less expected it to be your window neighbor.
Your eyes couldn’t help but trail along his figure from the black jeans he wore to the black boots, belt, and a dark gray Nirvana shirt. You didn’t fail to notice the way his t-shirt was a little too short and exposed a bit of his Calvin Klein’s and a line of his tiny waist for your viewing. Thick leather bracelets on his wrists as he crossed his arms over his chest. Even his hair was voluminous and a bit curly and you were very attracted to the sight of this stranger.
Rock music played behind him as he leaned against his doorframe.
He looked down at you with an arched brow that had you snapping out of your stare. You stood back up with the box and held it toward him, “This was delivered to the building next door and I didn’t want someone to take it.”
“Oh,” he said as he looked down at the box, the corner of his lips turned up shifting his gaze back to you. You could see a black lip ring and a few silver ones aligning his ear. Up close you’re able to see all the details you’ve missed from your window and he really did look familiar. He finally took the box out of your hands, fingers over yours and he broke out into a smile, “You live next door.”
It wasn’t a question, more so a statement but you nodded away. You looked around, “I do.”
“I’ve seen you before,” he said, “You’re on the third floor?”
What Jungkook really wanted to say was that he remembered your lips against his kissing him like you needed him. He didn’t say that though, he can tell you might not remember him and he doesn’t blame you. You seemed to be a little flustered that night and he’s sure he’ll help you remember him when the time’s right. You’re meant for each other after all.
He realized that the second he moved in—it was all by pure chance and yet it felt like the universe was telling him you were his person. Why else would things work out this way? Once he found you looking down at him from your window, he knew it was meant to be. You made his heart race at a time where he had just felt annoyed and then you kissed him so warmly, there’s no way you two weren’t supposed to find each other.
“Yeah, I’ve been living there for over a year,” you said, already taking a step back like you were ready to go.
He smiled, “I just moved in a couple weeks ago.”
You nodded, “Oh, that’s nice. I'm Y/n L/n.”
Jungkook felt his chest tighten. He knew the two of you haven’t interacted since then but he had really hoped you would have recognized him up close. He understands that it was a while ago and you were both drunk but he remembers everything about you. He still tried to smile even if he felt annoyed that you couldn’t remember a single thing about him, “Jungkook.”
You watched the way his gaze never left yours as you tried walking away, before you could go he said, “Well thanks for bringing this up to me Y/n, maybe I’ll see you around?”
In your eyes, you both knew of each other but it was simply for being neighbors and nothing more. There’s been too many times where your eyes have met from 40 feet off the ground through your windows. There’s no way you wouldn’t at least remember each other’s silhouette.
Yet you couldn’t remember the first time you two met for the life of you. As far as you knew, this is the first time you’ve ever seen him this close and you can’t understand why you’re getting flustered.
“Have a good night, Jungkook,” You finally nodded your head in response to his words and with a small smile you made your leave. Jungkook watched you until you disappeared into the elevator. His heart was racing, he clutched the box tightly as a smile came to his face.
A light chuckle left his lips as he went into the apartment, setting the box down on his dining table. He just can’t believe his plan worked. He timed your arrivals for days and when he knew you would be getting home soon he left his most recent package in front of your building. To be Frank, he thought it was stupid to assume you would think anything about it but he had hoped maybe you would confuse it with one you ordered. He had prayed that you would see it was his and maybe get a little curious of the name but you did even better than he imagined. You delivered it to him. After an hour of pacing back and forth in his living room he finally heard his ring camera notify him that someone was at his door and that’s when his heart started to race.
He opens the door to see you up close for the first time ever. He wasn’t watching you from his window or following you to the convenience store. He was actually seeing you face to face and you looked prettier than you did the night he met you. That’s the time he fell in love, it was truly love at first sight and he knows that you must’ve felt it too. You were so cute and caring and clumsy, and you kissed him like you never wanted to pull away.
If only you knew the horrible pain he felt after you left him that night. All he could say is his friends definitely didn’t like the side of him that was shown following that day. He tried finding you on social media but with only your first name that had been so hard. When he saw you from your window he knew right away it was you and he swears he’s never felt so relieved to know he was seeing you again. Once again, the universe was sending signs of his soulmate.
It didn’t take him long to try and find a way to know more about you after moving in. He spent days studying the apartment floor plans and by the fourth day he was following someone into your building and looking at the map picture on his phone, smiling because they were identical. He learned that because your apartments faced each other that it could help him find exactly what number you had and when he found it, he went straight to the mailing room. He found your apartment number and right there taped on the metal was your full name.
He can’t believe that his patience seemed to have worked. You came right to him and he got to hear your pretty voice up close again. He smiled lovingly at the memory of your first kiss and how many more are to come, nose scrunching up like a bunny’s as he finally began to tear into his package.
In the pocket of his black jeans his phone began to ring and he took it out to answer without sparing a single glance at the caller as he pressed it between his ear and shoulder, “Hello?”
“Kook, hey man, what are you doing right now?” Namjoon asked through the cell phone as his Uber came to a stop at a red light.
“Just at home,” Jungkook mumbled, not fully listening to his friend as he looked at the small security camera in his hand. His eyes moved to skim the instructions while Namjoon spoke up again.
“I’m meeting up with Yoongi for some drinks and I wanted to know if you wanted to join us,” Namjoon said before with a smile.
“Uh, yeah, I’m busy right now,” Jungkook said with dazed eyes that made it obvious that he was drifting off into his own world as he made his way through his closet to find some sort of adhesive tape. He even sounded like he was in a different reality.
Namjoon’s smile grew wider, “With your girl?”
Jungkook opened his bedroom window and reached for his potted plant to move it out of his way. It took him a while to utter out a response, “Sort of?” He stuck the black camera against the side of his black window box and put the potted plants back inside it so he could see what it looked like.
“I mean you can bring her along,” Namjoon said as his Uber stopped in front of the bar and he began to get out.
“Maybe,” Jungkook muttered under his breath as he concentrated on opening the app connected to the camera and typing in whatever he needed to to be able to access the footage.
“Alright call me later if you’re up for it.”
Jungkook barely hummed a goodbye as Namjoon hung up and finally got off speaker. He wasn’t paying attention anyways.
He has two options now that his friend has called him with plans tonight.
One: He can go out and get drunk with his friends, probably go to some night club and suffer through some ugly drunk woman throwing herself at him while he pretends to be interested in anything she says.
Or.
Two: He can stay home tonight, dim the lights, play Tempest by Deftones and watch video footage of your bedroom that he now had thanks to the package you delivered to him.
He just has to go with option two.
You were ashamed to admit that you think you might have a little crush on your neighbor. He just felt so familiar. Nothing about him looked inviting, he seemed aloof and a bit mysterious but he pulled it off so well—and with that charming smile of his… you’ve never seen a girl over at his place but you’re sure there’s dozens waiting for a chance with him.
Taehyung is the one to blame for this technically. Since the beginning he’s gotten it through your head that your neighbor must at least be curious about you to always look at you through the windows. You know that it could seem a bit creepy to know that but were you any better when you glance over and see him shirtless through his window? It’s starting to really get to your head and the fact that he was very attractive made it hard for you to not get a little giddy just thinking about him being interested in you in the slightest. You’re sure that’s not the case but it wouldn’t hurt to dream.
Also, you think the world is playing a sick joke on you or why else would he be standing in an aisle over in the same convenience store as you? The Baader-Meinhof phenomenon is to blame, now that you’ve seen him up close it’s like you’re seeing him everywhere in the neighborhood.
Jungkook was the first to make a move, he closed the space between you as he headed down your aisle while you pretended to be stuck choosing between different snack foods. He couldn’t help but smile at the way your eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, “Y/n?”
“Jungkook,” you greeted him as your eyes met.
“I thought it was you,” Jungkook said with a gentle smile as he switched the hand that was holding his shopping basket while looking down at yours, “Doing some grocery shopping?”
“Kind of,” you mumbled, “I’m just buying a few things until I have time to shop this week, what about you?”
“Same,” Jungkook said as he looked at you, “Have any plans? It’s the weekend.”
“I don’t know, I’ll probably just be home until plans come calling,” you said with a soft laugh that made his heart beat a little faster. He’s never heard your laugh before and he needs to hear it again.
“Well, can I come calling tonight?” Jungkook asked confidently, “Let’s get a drink later.”
“Tonight?” You asked, making your way to the checkout line with him hot on your trail.
Listen, you are attracted to this stranger but you’re not so sure there’s more to it than just that. Sure, you think he’s attractive and were just feeling giddy over him thinking the same about you but…. you don’t know. You just got out of a relationship a few weeks ago and you thought some time to yourself would be nice, yet you keep seeing this guy everywhere like some sort of destiny prank and it’s getting to your head. This is your problem, you tell yourself you want to enjoy being single but then you make up all these crazy excuses so that you could find yourself the next guy.
“Alright,” you finally said, walking toward the check out line. He smiled widely now, “Perfect, I’ll drive.”
“What time?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear as the cashier began to scan your items.
“I’m not sure yet, how about I text you?” Jungkook asked getting his phone out. You didn’t think much of it as you gave him your number and he immediately called you to confirm but he smiled, “Now you have mine too. Want me to drive you home?”
“I have one more stop after here but thank you, I’ll see you tonight?” you told him shyly. You left after paying and with a goodbye.
Jungkook’s smile instantly dropped when he could no longer see you through the windows of the store. He barely made out the voice of the cashier telling him his total and he threw a crumpled up bill on the counter, ignoring her outstretched hand, and took his bags, turning to leave without his change or receipt.
He bumped into someone hard as he left the store but he never once stopped and headed straight down the street in the direction you left.
In the end Jungkook walked back to his work like he hadn’t been gone for nearly an hour. When he checked the camera earlier he saw you getting dressed to leave—and like the gentleman he was, he didn’t stare too long. Of course he couldn’t help but watch just a little bit and see the way you seemed to caress your legs as you slid on a long fitted black skirt covering your bare hips and lacy underwear. It made his heart race when you took your shirt off and he knew that it was time he stopped watching at least for a little. You grabbed your bag off the hook, filled your cat’s bowl and headed out.
He’s been studying up on your usual departures. You don’t really go anywhere new, it’s usually a cycle of work, home, the store, and to meet your friends. Considering the time he had chosen and the area in which the two of you lived, all he had to do was wait around and see if he could find you walking somewhere on the sidewalk. When he finally did spot you walking toward the convenience store around the corner he practically ran right over.
Clearly he’s made all the right decisions to get to ask you on a date tonight. He won’t watch you this evening, he’ll give you some privacy to dress pretty for him like he’s sure you’ll do and it’ll just be a nice surprise.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: how does 8pm sound? —jungkook
you: sounds good :)
jungkook: alright, I’ll wait outside for you
When you got home, you immediately got ready with a shower. You know it wasn’t a date or anything but he was attractive and you would be going out so there’s no way you could go dressed the way you were.
You finally had your curtains closed after beating yourself up for forgetting to do that before you left to the store and immediately thought about Taehyung getting you in trouble for it.
And apparently just the thought of your friend was enough to summon him to call you.
“Hello?” You answered the FaceTime call, noting that there was a third person present.
“Hello baby!” Hoseok shouted over enthusiastically as he gushed at you through the screen, “I’ve missed you.”
“Hi Hobi, are you back?” You asked as you set the phone up against the mirror while you touched up on your appearance.
“He just got back and we want to get drunk, so are you coming over or what?” Taehyung asked as his eyes squinted, best friend senses tingling, “Where are you going?”
“Um… you know, I have plans,” you said awkwardly making him look you up and down and what you wore.
“With who?”
“Uh…” you scratched the back of your neck, “A guy?”
“You’re cheating on me, you bitch?” Hoseok jokes, making you crack a smile. Hoseok was older but he was the funny one and for years now there’s been a running joke between you two. He huffed, “You’re not supposed to date. We’re supposed to get married when we turn 30.”
“First of all, you’re damn near 30 already,” you rolled your eyes, “And our agreement was if we weren’t engaged by then we would get married.”
“Stop changing the subject. Who’s the guy?” Taehyung asked with a small smirk that told you he already had an idea. You just had to tell him about your run in with the neighbor the other day. You didn’t say anything because he already knew.
“Alright, alright, I get it. Go enjoy your black eyeliner boyfriend and we’ll get drunk on our own.”
“Who are we talking about?”
Jungkook was not ashamed to admit he had been waiting for you since he got home. He did hurry and get dressed but he had been ready early on. When you texted him telling him you were coming down he nearly jumped out of his car to greet you and he felt an insane amount of butterflies in his stomach. You were dressed simply but at the same time it was clear to him that you put in the effort all for him. Your skirt hugged your curves perfectly and your shirt gave him a good idea of what was underneath—even if he’s practically seen you nude through the windows. You reminded him of spring and it wasn’t just because of the earthy tones you wore.
“You look lovely,” Jungkook said as he placed a hand on your lower back assisting you into the passenger’s side of his black Porsche. You blushed at his words and took in the scent of his car. It smelled of his cologne but it wasn’t overbearing like most colognes, it was familiar. It’s soft yet masculine and exactly what you pictured he would use.
When he started the car up, a familiar song began to play, Something In the Way by Nirvana played lowly so it wasn’t overwhelming for your ears. You smiled, “You must like this kind of music a lot. I always see you in band tees”
He smiled but his eyes drifted down to his hands that clutched the steering wheel tightly so they wouldn’t shake with anxiety, “I do, it’s perfect for the gym.”
Jungkook was very pleased to know you took note of his interests, it meant that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you. He can list off a lot of things he’s learned about you throughout the week. Just from your socials he can tell where you’ve vacationed, cafes you frequent at, your favorite books or movies, etc.
From watching you through your windows he knows that you read a book on the window seat in your bedroom. You like to keep your green plants in the living room and your cat tends to pull off some leaves before running off when he sees you. He knows you can barely cook—he’s seen you running to turn off the fire alarm after you tried cooking. He knows that when you’re alone in your bedroom at night you like to listen to music loud and dance in front of the mirror when you think no one’s watching. He’s even seen you fight your cat over him eating another one of your plants. He knows all of this thanks to his cameras. He can keep his curtains closed to not raise suspicion but that doesn’t mean he can’t see you.
He thinks it’s kind of cute how oblivious you are, it works in his favor even now.
You knew he worked out just by looking at him but for the sake of conversation you asked, “How often do you work out?”
“Twice.”
“A week?”
“A day,” Jungkook looked at you for a split second, “Once in the morning and then usually after work too.”
“Fuck, that’s a lot,” you laughed softly, “I can see why you’re so toned.”
Jungkook bit his lip playing with his lip ring, “Nice to know you’ve noticed, but how? You’ve never seen me without a shirt, have you?”
He knows you have, he’s very purposely walked around shirtless for your viewing specifically. You released a nervous chuckle, “I mean… just from what I can see.”
“Mm,” he hummed as he tried and failed to bite back a smile. He just couldn’t help it. You’re in his car on the way to a date with him. He’s been dreaming about this night after all, imagining what it would be like to wake up next to you with you in his arms. He’s dreamt about the way you laugh at his jokes, how your shampoo smells, what you look like fresh out the shower. It feels like all he does is think about you and he knows it’s because he’s found the one he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. Ever since that first night at the club he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Was that normal?
He knows he shouldn’t put cameras up to spy on you or follow you around but he just wants to know where you’re going. He doesn’t want something to happen to you and he has no way of knowing. If he could just know your every step he’s sure that’ll make him feel more at ease.
When he finally parked and the two of you got out of the car you could see where he brought you. You had expected it to be some loud night club or something but it was actually a seemingly quiet lounge bar. There weren’t that many people here and the ones that were seemed to come from money and the dim lights with quiet soft rock music playing in the background told you this wasn’t his first time here. It was an intimate environment filled with quiet conversations and sneaky touches. You found a high round table and with Jungkook’s help, you got on the high stool and watched him pull his chair closer to yours—so close his thigh bumped into yours on occasion.
“What would you like to drink?” Jungkook asked with a hand on your thigh as if to get your attention. He seemed to fit into the environment better than you did. He switched out his normal band tee for a plain black fitted tee that quite literally hugged the ridges of his muscles, even with the dark color you could make out the shape of his bar nipple piercings. The shirt was tucked into a pair of blacks jeans with a leather belt that matched his signature leather bracelets that were on his wrists. The only things different were the silver chained bracelets and chunky rings that fit well with his tatted fingers and matched the silver chains around his neck and piercings in his ears. He had an intricate silver cross with small red jewels on a necklace and his hair had a slick look that made the waves and curls look wet.
He was quite literally breathtaking and unlike the guys you usually went for.
“Surprise me,” you said and he nodded leaving you alone with a pat on your thigh. In order to not look awkward by yourself, you checked your phone, half tempted to pull out your essential oils and roll on some lavender.
Some rock song played quietly in the background as people talked around you enjoying the dark and warm atmospheric of the lounge bar.
hobi: how’s the mystery gang
you: the who?
jiyoung: don’t ever call us that shit again
taehyung: look who finally came out of the trenches
you: jiyounggggggg I missed u
jiyoung: y/nnnn I love u
jiyoung: are u coming to Tae’s?
hobi: y/n’s got a date with some stalker
you: WHO TOLD U THAT
taehyung: me and i was kidding
jiyoung: no u weren’t
hobi: no u weren’t
you: whatever. I gotta go
jiyoung: I hope u get laid
you: why is everyone saying that
taehyung: bc u need it <3
you: scatter. all of u
Jungkook came back with a cocktail for you and when he sat down his chair inched just a little closer to yours as he said, “So…Y/n…”
“So… Jungkook…” you said back to him and he swore he could hear his name fall from your lips for the rest of his life. He smiled, “Tell me about yourself, what do you do for a living?”
You own a shop that just opened up a year ago, what you mostly sell are house plants and sometimes you take Armani with to bring customers in with his Prince-like features—that’s what a review on your business page said anyway.
“I own a plant shop, you?” You asked shifting in your seat a bit when his thigh pressed against yours. With the way you were sitting facing each other, your legs were practically trapped between his. He licked his lips, “I’ll give you a hint.”
You nodded waiting and finally he pointed to the smiley face on his fingers. Your brows scrunched together in concentration and he thought it was the cutest thing in the world making him scrunch his nose like a bunny with a smile and it completely betrayed his dark exterior. You bit your lip, “Tattoos?”
“Mhm,” he hummed as the hand with the tattoos found its way down to your thigh again, it looked huge on you and he held you like you would get up and run away from him, “So tell me.”
You lifted a brow waiting and he smiled, “What kind of flowers do you get a girl that knows so much about them?”
You released a sigh in thought. He clearly meant you and if he didn’t this would be embarrassing but you said, “Personally I think Baby’s Breath. It could mean a lot of different things from undying love to pureness and freedom. It’s simple yet pretty.”
He nodded seriously like he was really thinking about what you said, “Not a rose?” He had to figure out exactly what you like and dislike.
“Too cliché,” you joked with a little laugh and he smiled, “I mean, Baby’s Breath are common too but I still think they’re better.”
“I thought you would think they’re romantic,” Jungkook said, thumb now softly caressing the side of your thigh. You shook your head no, “Maybe but I like the unexpected a little more.”
“Unexpected how?” He asked looking down at his hand and your leg curiously. He needs to know absolutely everything he can about you. Every second he spends with you the more he realizes he’s found the one. There’s no other way to describe what he’s felt for you since he first ever laid eyes on you.
You sighed, your index finger began to absentmindedly trace the rings on his fingers while he touched your thigh with the same hand, “I don’t know, I’m just tired of the same shit in relationships, y’know what I mean? I want something new, exciting… maybe a little intense? I don’t know, ignore me I might just sound crazy.”
You were speaking out of your ass and you knew it. Sure, you are sick and tired of the same assholes thinking they can just do whatever they want with you but you’re not in search of nothing new right now. You don’t want a relationship at this moment, you just want to have fun, maybe hook up with someone and move on.
“You don’t,” Jungkook breathed out as he leaned just a little closer, taking a small whiff of your shampoo. You were actually a little surprised by his growing proximity but you’re beginning to realize just how attracted you might be to him after just one meeting. In a low whisper he sighed, “I want the same thing.”
Your eyes widened slightly as he dropped his head down so his forehead was against your collarbone and though usually you would be immediately turned off by a man this forward, his touch felt good.
“Looks like you’ve dressed up for me Jungkook, I’m used to seeing you in some black tee,” you said in hopes of easing some of this growing sexual tension but it was no use. Jungkook’s other hand had made its way into your hair making you look at him. He smiled, “Didn’t know you were paying that much attention to me. How do you know how I dress on the regular?”
Yikes.
“Uh, you know… our windows actually—“ he cut you off with a soft laugh.
“Y/n, I’ve got a confession.”
You looked at him with furrowed brows, confusion and curiosity evident on your face. His eyes never left yours as he bit his lip nervously, “We’ve met before.”
Jungkook studied your expression to see if maybe you were remembering a little but you just stared at him blankly, “Before I moved in next door, we met at a club.”
A club? You asked yourself trying to find something in him that you might’ve missed and when it hit you your face flushed with embarrassment. You looked at him longer, pieces of your memory slowly coming back together and he sat there patiently.
You had been drunk, probably the drunkest you had been in a while.
You were mad and sad, maybe a little numb too.
You could barely see inside that place and couldn’t remember most of your conversations. You only knew that you had kissed someone because Jiyoung told you but to know it was Jungkook? Now that’s a huge coincidence.
“Wow,” you said at a loss for words. The memory was coming back to you but you felt insanely guilty for not realizing it earlier. No wonder he stared at you all the time, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
Jungkook released a light laugh, “Because I was hoping you would remember on your own, we did kiss after all.”
You covered your face with your hand in embarrassment, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even… wow, I knew you looked familiar.”
He smiled warmly, “It’s alright.”
“What a coincidence, honestly.”
“I know,” Jungkook said, “Funny isn’t it? It’s like the universe keeps throwing us together.”
You laughed at that, “I don’t really believe in destiny but it is pretty interesting that all of a sudden we keep running into each other.”
His smile dropped and the hand he had in your hair became limp, “Y/n, how could you not believe in destiny? How do you think you’ll find your soulmate?”
“Soulmate?” You scoffed, unaware of the way his hands slowly withdrew from you, “Jungkook, don’t tell me you honestly believe in that soulmate bullshit? Do you think there’s just one person in this whole wide world destined for you only?”
“I do.”
“But how do you know who that person is?” You asked, switching places with him and combing your fingers through his hair which did seem to ease him a bit. His eyes were stone cold as he looked into yours, “You just know.”
“Well I don’t believe that,” you cleared your throat and looked away. The night has gone great but you don’t care much for this conversation. It didn’t take you long to notice the way he grew quiet and stared off like he was in his own world. You must’ve said something that upset him and in fear that you were already fucking up a seemingly good night out with your anti romantic antics, you curled a hand around his jaw and made him look up at you.
Jungkook was very visibly upset and you never knew a man could look so hurt over what you just said. He looked like a child who has just had his dreams crushed despite all the tattoos and piercings he wore. You smiled softly, “What do I have to say to get you to kiss me?”
You were being forward and a clear flirt and if Jungkook wasn’t so upset with you he would have probably melted in his seat but all he could think about is how often you’ve asked that to someone. He couldn’t get past what you said because it was a lie.
Soulmates did exist and he has to prove it to you that you’re his. Why else would his skin grow numb with your touch?
He gave up on telling himself he wasn’t happy right now and leaned closer again. Under the dim lights and music playing in the background it was hard not to feel this way in this atmosphere so he let his lips brush against yours while still debating. He had to be gentle.
Finally, without much debate, he pressed his lips against yours with a low whimper as you kissed him back. Jungkook’s nails dug into your thigh but not enough to hurt and with your hand on his jaw the two of you looked a bit too sexually charged for the lounge bar. It didn’t stop you from letting your tongue meet his as he took ownership of your mouth and nearly yanked your chair closer. Your hands landed on his chest for support but he only kissed you harder this time.
A sudden noise at your table made you jump back, biting his lip softly and it only made him groan in pleasure, chasing after your lips as you attempted to draw back. Your eyes opened watching the hostess carried your empty glasses away and you know she did that to make sure the two of you kept it PG and with a sense of embarrassment, you pulled away. Jungkook didn’t catch on or care as he began to kiss along your jaw if he couldn’t kiss your lips. Your mouth fell open when he nipped on your earlobe and you shyly glanced around the lounge praying nobody was watching.
“Jungkook,” you patted his shoulder to get him to move back but he only kissed further down, nearly at your exposed cleavage. Feeling flustered, you yanked at his hair in hopes that would get him to listen and it did but there was no denying that lust filled gaze in his eyes as he tugged his lip piercing between his teeth.
He’s nearly forgotten how fucking rude you were to him and his beliefs.
“Hm,” he hummed, searching your face for any sign that you wanted him to kiss you again.
“I think we should watch what we do in public,” you whispered shyly.
He licked his lips, “Should we get out of here then?”
You took yourself by surprise when you nodded your head despite knowing exactly what he meant by that. You wouldn’t usually do anything—not even a kiss—on the first meeting but right now you can’t deny that he seems to be hungry for you and though you don’t know why, you want him anyway.
It was all it took for him to grab you by the hand and help you off the high chair.
In the car you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, just trying to get Jungkook to drive off already was difficult with the way the two of you made out in his tinted car. He was half tempted to direct you over his lap and just do it in the car but that was just him being impatient. He needed to feel and see all of you, so with a low displeased grunt he pulled back ignoring the line of drool that connected your lips together as you drew back. Jungkook’s mouth was swollen and covered in lip gloss that he licked off as he started his car.
Just before taking off he made sure to lean across the middle console for one last kiss.
Now that you’ve kissed him you’re ashamed to admit how clear you remember the night of the club now. He really was the same guy and it’s shitty to say you only remember now that he’s told you.
Jungkook drove the familiar route to your shared apartment complex but instead of going to building five, he went to building six where his apartment was. He led you up an identical pair of stairs to an identical elevator and up an identical floor. He hurried to unlock his door looking behind him as if to make sure you were still around and as the door opened a large, skinny black dog came running over. Jungkook shushed him gently, flashing you a shy smile that you’ve never seen before, “I have to take him out real quick, down the hall to the right is my room.”
You nodded in understanding as you watched him leave with the dog and you followed directions. You were just a little tipsy but not like the first night you kissed. You could still see things clearly and you were very aware that you were about to have sex with a guy on the first date. A guy you lived across from at that—one you drunkenly kissed without knowing it. This was a new you and something you’ve never done but it didn’t stop you from looking around his bedroom finding it fitting.
He had a large king sized bed pushed against the black wall of band posters and Vinyls. His bedsheets were black silk and his headboard was a deep red velvet. Aside from the posters he had black and white sketches of various dark things from moths to skulls and even a few dead roses. He had a couple weights laying around and it was overall a clean and tidy room just a little darker than you expected. Even the large mirror he had over his headboard had a black wooden frame with engravings of vines and flowers on it. It was huge too and you could see the entire room from that angle. The room was dimly lit too with the light switch only turning on two lamps in the corners of the room and it gave it a warm and dark feel. To be honest… his bedroom was as hot as he was, just imagining the things he could do to you in these silk sheets was enough for you to clench your thighs shut.
In the background some music started playing from a different room letting you know Jungkook was back.
Mascara by Deftones played in the back as Jungkook returned to you, standing behind you in the mirror and you watched as his tattooed arm came around your waist to the front of your stomach while he pressed you into his chest. He rested his chin on your shoulder, “You’re so fucking pretty.”
You smiled shyly as he began to leave soft kisses along your neck, his ringed fingers coming up to push your hair out of his way and you felt your breath hitch when his teeth nipped at your earlobe. Turning your head to face him, you pressed your lips against his and he met you with an open mouth kiss letting the hand on your stomach slip under your fitted forest green long sleeve top, it must be your favorite color, he realized. You had chosen to go brakes underneath and he noticed right away but like a gentleman he forced himself not to stare. Now he’s free to feel up your soft stomach and bunch up the shirt to feel your breasts in his hands.
He was quite literally feeling you up for your own viewing with the way the two of you stood in front of the window. Your breath hitched when his cold fingertips brushed along your exposed nipples, teasing you as you made out out and you felt your body slowly turning to mush in his hands. You wore this black silky skirt with velvet black flowers on and it was short but flowy so it gave his other hand easy access to the expanse of your thighs and you felt like you were being manhandled in the most gentle way.
His tattooed hand disappeared under your skirt and you felt his teasing touch along your thighs but avoiding the space between your legs as his other hand punched your nipple making you whine into his mouth. This was all a bit bizarre but you could hear your friends now cheering you on for getting laid by the hot guy next door.
You blame the fact that you haven’t had sex in a while by how aroused you were and how easy it was for him to push you forward until you were crawling onto his silk sheets ready to turn on your back but you couldn’t. Jungkook pushed you face down onto his bed and he crawled over you kissing your neck as he grabbed at the hem of your skirt and pulled it down. He had already pulled your shirt up to reveal your breasts and now he was yanking your underwear down too until he threw it along with the skirt on the floor. You gasped as he maneuvered your body to his liking, tits pressed against the sheets while lifting your hips so your bare butt was in the air.
Jungkook was trying to take his time but you just looked so ready for his touch too and all the little whimpers in surprise by the way he held you was too much for him to remain calm. He had so much he wanted to do to you.
His fingers trembled as he ran them along your naked backside and spine, kissing whatever he touched until finally he was kissing your lower back, hands finally finding your hips and dropping down to the space between your legs. You had to clench the silk in your hands to keep yourself from squirming in anticipation, unable to help yourself from gasping, “Jungkook.”
The sound of his name falling from your lips had him greedily diving forward letting his tongue out and licking the first swipe along your folds catching you by surprise. With a low growl in frustration, he pinched your hips and dragged them back until he was able to fully press his face into your wet heat that had his eyes rolling back knowing he’s the one who’s made you like this in such a short time.
The last Deftones song ended and a new one began but it went completely unnoticed by the two of you as he began to let his eagerness show with the way he ate you out from behind.
He wanted to be buried in your perfect cunt until he could barely breathe. If he ran out of breath, if he fucking suffocated, he would die a happy man knowing he’s found the one meant for him and that he’s able to pleasure you to the point where your thighs already began to shake. You dug your face into the bed to hide your moans and he only took that as a challenge to make you be louder to the point where you can’t hide it.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned softly unable to hold yourself back.You were so fucking wet. Your slick was all over his chin and his nose as he found your clit with ease. You were moaning loudly now, grinding into his face with enough force to make him dizzy. His nails were digging into your soft thighs, not once bothering to pull away for air. . Anyone nearby could listen to the feral sound he was able to rouse from his mouth despite being buried in that sweet, sweet cunt, he did not care. He was going to make you beg for him harder.
"Fuck," your head turned to the side, cheek pressed into the sheets as if you could get a look at him from the back, "Please," he heard you whisper, desperation spilling from your tone. Breathless moans and a few choice curse words followed before he felt you become restless, close to orgasm and trying to push him away before the pleasure became overwhelming. Even if this was his first time with you, he knew how bad you wanted it so he didn’t move back, choosing instead to lap at your slick folds feeling your walls try and tighten around his tongue, "Yes, fuck, right there, baby. Don't stop."
The term of endearment was enough to make him moan into your pussy but he won’t stop. Not until his cock was buried tightly between your walls feeling you come undone around him like he'd been craving for since he met you. Alternating between sucking on your clit and quickly lapping his tongue against it, Jungkook could feel your body begin to tremble and it only made his hold on your hips tighten to keep you in place. Your hips began to turn into his face failing miserably and getting him off and instead of saying to stop, you said, “S-so close.”.
His tongue lapped at your folds creating a squelching sound, your hips rutting against his face. He sucked on your clit, tongue hitting the tip with each swivel as the hand on your hip was suddenly pinching. A low growl vibrated between your walls as he ate you from behind and your eyes burned with the need to keep them open, your hand hit the bed feeling yourself become restless and before you could say anything your walls were breaking. Jungkook never once slowed down, licking and sucking away your release as your legs shook and gave out yet he held your hips up to his face until he was satisfied.
Jungkook tried easing you down from your first orgasm of the night and when he finally sat back all he could see as he looked down was your pretty body facing down on his bed where you belonged. He licked his lips, hand barely grazing over his hardened member which still stayed confined in his black jeans and with a soft caress over your butt he whispered, “Give me a second, baby.”
You barely nodded, unable to move as he left the bed in search of his master bathroom. He began to rummage through his drawers praying to the universe that he had just one condom. It had been so long since he last had sex and though he would love to feel all of you during your first time, he also knew he had to be safe. He was too worked up right now to remind himself to pull out so he had to find some sort of protection. He created so much noise in his hurry and when he found one he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
When he came back out to his bedroom you had rid yourself of your shirt from being overheated but you still laid face down trying to keep cool. He smiled warmly as he pulled at the neckline of his long sleeve till it was off his head and checked it to the ground leaving his chains on. Next to come off was his black belt that hit the floor with a heavy thud along with his black jeans and white Calvin Kleins. He tore into the package of the condom rolling it on swiftly as he slowly stroked himself to the sight of you, unable to stop his tattooed hand from running along his own abs to his nipples where the piercings had turned them sensitive. He pressed a knee to the bed, cock in hand as he lined himself behind you, not pushing in but angling your hips how he wanted them and let his dick thrust between your fold teasingly. You released a surprised whimper that had him smiling and he found himself lying over you just enough but not hard enough to crush you.
With his free hand he brushes your hair off your back and shoulder, moving it to one side so he can see your pretty face, “You ready, baby?” It was his turn to call you that and it sounded so perfect falling from his gorgeous lips. You nodded your head shyly, hips already withering with the way his cock teased your entrance but never went in.
He smiled lovingly, “Words, love.”
“Yes,” you moaned as his tip began to press into your opening, “Fuck, need you inside.”
Jungkook bit his piercing as he nodded, pulling back just enough to guide his cock into your wet pussy. You both released a silent moan as he began to stretch you open with his thick dick. His tattooed arm came to your lower back for support as he stopped himself from thrusting all the way in but he couldn’t take it. He needed you to feel all of him, so he pressed a little more, other hand holding up your hips to fuck you from behind. When you finally began to fuck yourself on his cock, he knew you were ready and with the same hand he had on your back, he wrapped it around your waist until he was pulling up your seemingly limp body to his chest.
"Want me to do all the work while you just lay there, huh baby?" His hand slid between your breasts to grab at your throat forcing your jaw to stay open making you moan.
You shook your head no as you arched your back off of him so you could fuck yourself on his cock but with the arm loosely around your throat it was hard to move more. His brows scrunched together in pleasure when your wetness created such a soft glide into your warm pussy that he couldn’t help but sneak his other hand down your front too and touch your clit. Your head lolled to the side as he began to leave harsh love bites on your neck and through dazed eyes you found your gaze shifting back to the black mirror that hung over his headboard and when he found where your attention had gone to, he looked at himself too.
It was erotic the way the two of you fucked in his black and red room with sultry rock music playing in the background and your slutty body being pinched at by his rough hands while he impaled you with his cock. You haven’t even had a chance to fully devour the sight of his body, he was so focused on eating you out and getting right to fucking you.
But you loved it. You loved having his hand around your throat. You loved the rough pace he was setting. You loved the animalistic way he'd dropped down to his knees and ate you out like your pussy was his last meal. You loved the way this stranger who wasn’t much of a stranger fucked you roughly yet so gentle and loving, making you feel so good. You were close again and he was too. His free hand flew down to your pubic bone pushing you back onto his cock until he was buried to the hilt and kept himself there breathing heavily. His eyes squeezed shut feeling you shake with a loud moan that he had to cover your mouth with his other hand to block. He turned your face over by your jaw smashing his lips onto yours feeling your body tremble with release that he had to giggle.
You came so easily each time and he was nowhere near done with you even as your body became mush in his hands. Jungkook found himself struggling to breathe as your walls tightened around him feeling your release dribble down his cock to his balls and with a quiet grunt, he came in the condom hugging you to his chest as you both fell onto the bed with him on top of you.
When he was able to catch his breath better he took the condom off and collapsed down at your side, staring up at the ceiling and you finally had a chance to see him in all his naked glory. The piercings he wore on his nipples were silver barbells and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his chest rose and fell with every shaky breath he released. Your eyes trailed down his body toward his dick which rested against his stomach still hard. Jungkook could feel you watching him, he took your hand in his, bringing it toward his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
Unable to help yourself you pulled yourself up, a leg thrown over his thigh and you kissed him. Jungkook’s breath hitched as he moved his mouth against yours, feeling your tongue swipe over his lip ring tugging on it softly.
You placed a palm on his chest, fingertip just millimeters away from his right nipple and you touched the bar. He brought a hand around your neck keeping you in place to make out while feeling your finger do right circles around his bud, moving the bar gently. Jungkook couldn’t do anything about the way his dick hardened once more, thrilled to know you wanted to keep going.
He’s had sex many times yet nothing has ever felt as good as what you two just did and if you want to do it again then that means you feel the same. You need him just as bad.
A low groan left his lips as you attempted to pull away and he only let you when you very lightly tugged on the metal bar, you kissed down his neck and collarbone. Jungkook licked his swollen red lips as he stared blankly at the ceiling trying not to get too eager but he really did not want to cum so quickly again. Your lips wrapped around his left nipple immediately drawing out a moan from him when your tongues licked over the cold metal. He took a hold of your free hand and couldn’t help but bring it down to his hard cock.
"Fuck," he groaned when your hand tightened around his fist forcing the grip on his cock to squeeze in an upward stroke, he was fucking himself with your hand as you sucked and tugged on his nipples. He licked his dry lips, "I want to fuck you so bad."
He received no response but that didn’t stop him from letting out any noise he wanted to, almost louder than the rock music outside. He licked his lips, biting back a groan as you left a sloppy open mouth kisses against his skin, tongue soothing any sting your teeth left when they nipped him. Your tongue circled around his nipple again while taking over stroking his cock as his fist flew to his mouth to hide loud moans.
Earlier Jungkook asked if you wanted him to do all that work and honestly, that’s how you preferred it. You didn’t like having to do much work during sex but Jungkook made you just want to keep going. It’s like he was pulling you in by just being himself.
His legs shook when your hand released his dick to go massage his balls, feeling your grip pull on his flesh making him wince in pleasure. Deciding he couldn’t take not doing anything, his fingers found their way into your hair by the back of your neck, and though he tried not to do it too harshly, pulled you off of him.
“Get on top,” he said with a deep raspy voice that went straight down between your legs but you shook your hand.
You wanted to feel the weight of him in your mouth but you also wanted to feel him inside of you again. You looked at him, “I’m on the pill.”
“Good,” Jungkook said as he helped you move to straddle his hips, “Because I’m out of condoms.”
He needs to remind himself that if he’s going to be with you he needs to buy more. That one had just been sitting in his drawer and he’s really sure how long but it wasn’t expired yet. He also knew he hasn’t had any sex in a few months now and he had no reason for any but now he has you. Now he has to think about you and he swears he will but you don’t seem to mind the way he lines you up with his pointed cock and slowly brings your hips down.
“Oh my god,” you sighed as you sank down with ease and let yourself get readjusted and comfortable with the stimulation again. Usually it’s hard for a guy to make you cum but Jungkook did so easily and he’s already on his way to bring a third out of you. A third. You’ve only brought him to one yet he doesn’t seem to mind, more eager to fuck you with his cock to care.
“Fucking hell," he said moaning as he fucked into you, with a concentrated face watching the way your hips gyrated. Your nails clawed at his chest and accidentally tugged at his piercing a little too harshly and you immediately went to apologize at the sudden grunt that fell from his lips but went quiet when Jungkook sat up and turned you onto your back underneath him. The second he was on top and more in control the pace picked up. You could feel him begin to leave love bites on your chest but the tipping point was when he sucked on your nipple as your body bounced off the bed with each thrust. After all the abuse you did on his piercings he was tired and horny and ready to blow his load and he needed you there too.
This time you’re very aware of how crazy you’re about to sound. You don’t know Jungkook. You’ve kissed him as a stranger and now you’re sleeping with him as one but… but he wants more. He wants romance and you can just tell by the way he talks to you. For some reason that’s making it a lot easier for you to give him affection back and more willing to let him be with you. You weren’t thinking clearly though when you said, “Cum inside.”
Jungkook’s gaze darkened as he groped your breasts looking you in the eye and never once stopping his thrusts, “Really?”
“Yes.”
Jungkook crashed his mouth against yours holding you tighter and that’s when it hit you. You scratched along his back whining as you came around him. Jungkook practically hugged your body to his as his legs nearly gave out with his release.
You were sweaty and hot gasping for breath as he pulled out with much disappointment. He looked down at your naked body feeling all sorts of things he couldn’t understand but knew they were good. Just look at how fucked out you are. He wanted to go again but he knows for a fact how bad of an idea that was.
Right now it was in the heat of the moment to not use protection and a bad idea to do it again so he but his tongue and ran a gentle hand along your calf, “You okay?”
“Bathroom?” You asked ready to clean yourself and he pointed it out watching you leave. He fell back on his bed with a huge grin feeling at an all time high, unable to stay still as he shot up and found a towel to clean himself with in bed. When you came back out you didn’t even hesitate to crawl into his oleen arms tiredly.
“Sorry for earlier,” you said softly as you pointed at his red nipple. You had tugged a little too hard on accident and thought it brought him pain it also gave him extreme pleasure. He just smiled hugging you to his side, “I kinda liked it.”
You laughed with him, “Did they hurt?”
“Mm,” Jungkook looked up in thought. He couldn’t help but think about how much you two looked like a couple enjoying their company after making love, “Want me to tell you the truth or what will make me sound cooler?”
“Both,” you said, making him chuckle.
“Alright… I didn’t feel shit,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “But the second one also hurt so fucking bad it almost brought this grown man to tears.”
You laughed at his honesty making yourself more comfortable against him, “Why’d you get all these tattoos and piercings then?”
“So a pretty girl like you could ask me why,” he said teasingly and smiled when you rolled your eyes, “And because I thought they would make me look badass.”
“They do,” you laughed, daring to close your eyes and the way he let your hair was enough to have you falling asleep. You slept for a short moment, very short that had been cut short by a loud dog barking by the door. Jungkook groaned as he shouted out for Bam as you sat up looking dazed and confused.
Jungkook hurried to turn off the music and apologize to Bam for being so loud before practically running to you. He fell back into his bed quickly hoping to go back to sleep with you but it was too late. You didn’t mean to fall asleep and now look at the time. In hopes of distracting you, he leant forward and kissed you.
“I have to go,” you sighed against his lips as he kissed you again. It didn’t even seem like he heard you so you pushed at his face gently to get him to back up as you repeated, “I have to go.”
His eyebrows scrunched together as he used the small grip in your hair to hold you away from him, “Why?”
“Armani’s been alone for hours,” you said with a sigh and nothing in your voice sounded like you weren’t serious. He let you sit up but he quickly followed, “Who?”
“My cat,” you clarified as you looked around for your clothes. A scoff left his lips as he scratched his head, ruffling up his sex hair even more, “You’re leaving me for a cat?”
His eyes shifted to the alarm clock on his nightstand, “It’s past midnight.”
That made you laugh, “Jungkook, I’m just next door, besides if I don’t get home now Amarni will destroy my pillows again, trust me. He’s crazy.”
You ran your hand along his chest, half tempted to brush a finger over his piercing to see if he would suck in a breath like he did before.
Jungkook huffed in annoyance as he got up and slipped on the closest pair of pants he could find and threw on an old t-shirt. You looked at him, but he just scruffed up his hair again, still slightly dazed from the good fuck you two just had. He yawned, “I’ll walk you back then.”
You didn’t argue as he followed you out of his apartment and you really did feel a bit flustered doing this but you had to. You really weren’t lying about Armani, he’s a cat who likes routine and you told him you would be coming home tonight. If he notices that you might not be back he’ll act like a total brat and scratch up your pillows like last time. Plus, if you left then you wouldn’t have to worry about being kicked out and forced to take the walk of shame in the morning.
You stood in front of your apartment door with Jungkook right there in front of you. You leaned against your door for a second as you looked back at him, “I’m sorry.”
“Hm,” he trailed off, taking a step closer to you until one arm was around your waist and a hand was on your neck, “When can I see you again?” It was very obvious that leaving you was the last thing he wanted to do. You bit your bottom lip with raised brows, a bit in shock that he wanted to see you again. Despite how great tonight was, Jungkooked pegged you as a womanizer. Why would he want to see you again?
“I don’t know, I’m sort of busy these next couple of days.” Once again, it was not a lie. You had plans with your friends tomorrow and you’ll be busy with work.
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed and before he could stop himself, he asked, “Are you lying to me?”
You’re leaving his bed for a fucking cat and now you’re telling him you’ll be too busy to see him? What bullshit lie was that? Did you not want to see him again after tonight? Do you think he’s going to let you give up that easily?
The question was unexpected but he spoke to you in his usual gentle and deep tone that you were a little confused to answer.
“No, I’ve got plans tomorrow and I’ll be working all day this week,” you said with narrowed eyes, “Why would I lie to you?”
Jungkook smiled softly now as if he hadn’t looked so serious seconds ago, “You’re right, I’m sorry I guess it didn’t make sense to me at first. I’m feeling tired.”
He acted strangely and you’re beginning to pick up on that a little bit but that only caught your interest more, like you wanted to know what his deal was. Why is a seemingly charming and good looking man single? You’re sure he gets hit on all the time and he might enjoy it even if he’s planning to sleep with you. What was his deal?
You placed a hand on the back of his neck and without much effort, reached up to capture his lips with yours. He didn’t put up a fight at all, choosing instead to focus on your tender affection, reminiscent of the night you’ve just spent together. He could stay like this for the rest of the night if you let him.
You told yourself over and over again that you weren’t going to get caught up on a guy again and yet here you are making out with this guy who you kissed right after a break up weeks ago all over again. Was this even what you wanted?
You gave him a wary smile, “I’ll call you?”
Music played loudly in the dimly lit studio and all you heard was the sound of tattoo guns buzzing away.
Rosemary by Deftones filled the black room as Jungkook bit his lip ring in concentration, not bothering to turn at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Namjoon and Yoongi walked into the tattoo parlor that was covered from floor to ceiling in artwork and pictures Jungkook did.
Jungkook was dressed in all black with his tatted hands hidden away by black latex gloves. He had his hair tied back and out of his face so he can work better and his black chunky boots tapped against the floor to the best of the music every now and then when he hummed to himself.
“You almost done?” Namjoon asked as he looked at what he was working on right now. His client sat in the chair with her neck tilted to the side as he did a shaded tattoo behind her ear. The girl was hot, dyed black hair, tattoos, piercings and quite literally the female version of Jungkook yet he didn’t so much as smile whenever she tried to clearly hit on him.
“Almost,” Jungkook said as he used a hand wipe to clean off excess ink. He tilted his head in thought as he looked it over, “Actually, yeah I am. Take a look in the mirror.”
He wheeled his chair back as he pulled off his gloves and looked at his friends, “What are you guys doing here?”
He took his vape out of his pocket and hit it right there in front of them as he waited for the chick to come back and tell him what she thinks about it. Yoongi sat in the unused tattoo chair, “Let’s get some drinks.”
“Alright,” Jungkook said simply. The two looked at each other in confusion as Jungkook told the girl how much it was and tucked the cash into his pocket. They thought it would have taken more to convince him like it usually did. As he finished up with the client he had a little smile on his face and was humming along to whatever song was playing off his phone.
“That was easy,” Namjoon pointed out.
“I’m done for the day anyway,” Jungkook shrugged.
He closed the shop and went to the back where his things were. Yoongi and Namjoon waited out front by the counter, taking in the sight of Jungkook’s tattoo parlor. It wasn’t big by any means but he got a lot of business. The room looked exactly like something Jungkook would decorate and he gets a lot of clients every day. It probably helps that clients tell their friends about him and they come too, looking to get a tattoo from him. It’s not a surprise that most of his clients are women.
Yoongi looked slightly bored waiting for Jungkook to finish and he found himself skimming all the papers on Jungkook’s counter. His brows furrowed as he picked up a small slip of paper and let his eyes widen as he read it. It was receipts from a few floral shops,
An order of 20 bouquets of Baby Breath’s flowers.
He tapped Namjoon on the shoulder until he had his attention and showed him the paper.
When Jungkook came out, he found himself asking, “What’s up with all these flowers?”
The smile on Jungkook’s face seemed to tighten as he took the paper out of their hands, “Don’t worry about it.”
“Is it for the chick you’re seeing? That’s a bit extreme don’t you think?” Namjoon asked with a chuckle as the three left the studio letting Jungkook lock it up. He didn’t say anything for a second.
It wasn’t extreme.
It was romantic?
You worked as a florist. You liked flowers, you liked Baby Breath flowers and he looked up what they meant.
Undying love.
That’s what he felt for you and he wanted to give you a gift you’ll enjoy. Did he maybe go too far? Yeah, but you won’t be upset. You can’t be.
“Wait, how did I not know you’re seeing someone?” Yoongi asked.
“I didn’t know for a while either,” Namjoon told him, “Jungkook show him a picture.”
“Alright,” Jungkook said as he exited out of the app he was currently on to go through his camera roll. He got in the backseat of Yoongi’s car, scrolling through his pictures until he found one. A smile came to his face as he took a second to admire you.
He took this picture last night. You couldn’t see much because the lights were off but after the two of you made love you had fallen asleep. It was right before you jolted awake remembering your stupid cat but he got a picture of you sleeping soundly against him. Your hair framed your face perfectly and you looked so peaceful and at home in his arms that he needed a picture to remember the first night together. It was also the first photo he took of you up close.
“Shit, hang this up in a museum,” Yoongi joked because it really was a nice picture, “How long have you been together?”
“A while.”
When they got to the bar it was already packed with sweaty bodies that made Jungkook cringe whenever someone bumped into him. They got their drinks and went to a table, “So how did the two of you meet?”
“Y/n lives next door,” Jungkook said as he tilted his phone a bit so they couldn’t see the way he switched to another app. He typed in his password and went straight to the video footage. He just had to know if you were home yet.
“Damn, you just moved there too, how’d you pull someone that fast?” Yoongi laughed because they didn’t know that Jungkook just started talking to you a couple days ago. To them, Jungkook and you have been dating for a few weeks now.
“We met a little before that,” His brows knitted together as he looked at the footage. Your curtains were drawn so he couldn’t see in and he can’t tell if you’re home or not. He immediately went to text you.
jungkook: are you home yet? :)
You’ll be honest, you saw Jungkook’s text but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to answer. You have been texting with Jungkook nonstop since that Friday night where he fucked you so good that you woke up with bruises on your hips and left scratch marks along his back that he generously decided to show you a picture of over text.
You’re not sure what to think about him either. Friday night was fun, you got drinks and got to know him better, he treated you right and aside from that strange conversation about destiny the night went perfect. He took you back to his place where you quite literally had the best sex you’ve had in a while and he didn’t ghost you right after. Hell, he made you not want to leave but you did anyway.
Today you’ve been texting on and off and it was all your fault. He responds so quickly but you get busy or forget to respond until he sends another like right now. The last text he sent was asking what time you got off but you had been dealing with delivery orders so you never responded. You had completely forgotten about it until you were in the elevator to your building heading home. Your friend Jiyoung was right behind you, ready to nap on your couch but you weren’t paying attention to her anymore.
You were so focused on your phone that you nearly missed the sight before you as you walked down the hall to your apartment. Your expression changed to that of confusion as you stopped a few feet away from your door. You couldn’t even get to it with the line of bouquets scattered across the entrance. Some lined the walls, some bunched up in front of your door, some had cards in them.
“What the fuck?” Jiyoung asked as she counted them, “Who did this?”
Without much debate, you bent down and took a card in your hands, flipping it open to read:
“For my undying love.”
You couldn’t do anything but blink in surprise. What did this mean?
“Let’s get them inside,” you said with a sigh as you unlocked your front door and urged your friend to help you put them in. It took a few back and forth trips for the both of you but once you scattered them all in your apartment it was very overwhelming.
“This is crazy,” Jiyoung said even as she laughed, “You’ve got an admirer? Is that guy from the other night?”
“Um,” you bit your lip, confused and a little thrown off by this, “Give me a second.”
Jiyoung waved you off as she threw herself on your couch and moved a vase off the coffee table so she had an unobstructed view of your tv. You went straight to your bedroom already pulling up Jungkook’s contact information and dialing.
“Are you home?”
“I am,” you said as you took in your bedroom and it’s lack of flowers, “It was you, right?”
“What?” Jungkook asked over the loud music. He could barely hear you and without another word he was getting up to find somewhere quieter. He ended up in the hall that led toward the restrooms where the music was a bit drowned out.
“The flowers, was it you?”
His smile seemed to drop, “Why? Were you hoping for someone else?”
“No,” you told him, “I just…”
“You don’t like them? I thought they were your favorite,” he said with a boyish smile, proud of himself. He watched some drunk girls stumble past him with disgust.
“They are my favorite,” you said, “Uh, thank you but how'd you find a place that had this many Baby’s Breath?”
“Oh! I had to call up a few different places,” Jungkook said, “And obviously I couldn’t call you because that would ruin the surprise—Hey! Now that you’re home, should I come over?”
“Oh um, I have some friends over, remember?” You asked him shyly. You could hear him take a deep breath but you’re not sure if that meant anything or not.
Who did you have over? Was it that same guy he’s seen before? What was going on between you two anyway?
Some girl bumped into him and he turned to her with a glare, almost forgetting that he had you on the phone. She smiled at him like that would make things better but he was starting to get annoyed. It wasn’t her fault but that didn’t change the fact that her touching him just bothered him. He turned away to talk to you again. He forced his voice to sound light, “I remember, you’re busy.”
“Sorry,” you apologized gnawing on your bottom lip, “How about tomorrow?”
He smiled, “Tomorrow? I’m down.”
“Okay let’s meet then but I have to go now.”
Jungkook said his goodbye and stood in the dark hall in thought. He had to find a way to get a camera in your house. He can’t see much just from the window and he needs to know who you invite over when he’s not around.
“Excuse me.”
He turned back to the drunk that hadn’t left yet despite his efforts to ignore her presence. She smiled at him sweetly like that would make him swoon but he was mad and it wouldn’t work. You were too busy for him but not your friends?
“What?” He asked, already trying to walk back to his friends.
“You look familiar, have we met before?” She asked, following after him and he turned looking at her from head to toe and it made her blush.
“Definitely not.” He was leaving again until a small hand wrapped around his bicep and with an annoyed look he looked back at her. His patience was running thin.
“Well, uh, here then,” she pushed a paper into his hands finally releasing her hold on his bicep. He looked down at the line of paper that she clearly got from the restroom with a number scribbled on it in a rush.
His eyes shifted back to hers and instead of running off shyly she held his gaze with a confident smile. The paper sat in his open palm and without tearing his gaze away from her he made a fist crumpling the paper in his hold and just like that, he threw it on the floor, “What makes you think I would be interested in you?”
He even had the nerve to laugh when she looked taken back. He left without another word and went back to his friends.
“Who was that on the phone?” Yoongi asked when he sat back down. He smiled that bunny smile, “Y/n.”
“What’d she think about the flowers?” Namjoon asked curiously.
“She loved them,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “I think.”
And you’ll love the tattoo just behind his ear too.
“I can’t help but think you look a little tense, Kook.”
Jungkook ignored his friend as he delivered another hit to the punching bag with a low grunt. Make Me Bad by Korn played loudly in the empty training room. He ignored Seokjin as he continued to hit the punching bag. Jin released a sigh as he sat back and watched his friend release whatever stress he felt.
“She’s avoiding me,” Jungkook said to himself as he hit the bag hard. Jin wasn’t fully listening anymore but Jungkook didn’t seem to care as he went on, “She’s lying to me.”
“She’s fucking lying to me,” he hit the 200lb punching bag hard enough to make it move back from the bar and farther away from him.
“Who the fuck are you talking about?” Jin asked, watching Jungkook throw off his waistband and gloves. His nose was running from how hard he was working out and his heart pumped with adrenaline. He sniffled as he pushed back his sweaty curls, “Y/n. She hasn’t texted me back in over an hour.”
“She’s probably busy,” Jin said, watching Jungkook lift his shirt up to wipe at his forehead.
“She’s not,” Jungkook said with a tensed jaw, “I know exactly what she’s doing.”
Just before he came to train with Jin he looked at his camera. You had the windows open today and you had people over. He doesn’t care if you invite people over but two guys?
Two guys?
Wasn’t he enough?
One of those guys was over all the fucking time and that pissed him off. How could he be sure you’re not messing around with one of them behind his back?
Jin wasn’t as close to Jungkook as the other two. They were friends and hung out often but he’s not as caught up with Jungkook and his antics as the others. To him, Jungkook was just hoping to be with his girlfriend, so he sighed and said, “So go over and see what she’s up to.”
Jungkook didn’t quite hear his friend with his loud thoughts drumming in his ears so he turned to him with dark eyes, “You think she’s cheating on me?”
“Only one way to find out,” Jin said with a smirk, unaware of how far Jungkook will go to know. He watched his friend’s mind run rampant but he just sat back comfortably. Jungkook was just a concerned boyfriend after all. He didn’t think deeply about his comment, he assumed maybe Jungkook would just tell him to fuck off but he really did look pissed.
When they finished their training, Jungkook rushed over to his place to wash off his work out. He practically ran next door jumping steps to go to you and when he knocked on your door, he couldn’t help but look upset when another man opened it.
It took a second for Taehyung to recognize him, he’s never seen him up close before but when he caught sight of the tattoo sleeve he knew exactly who this guy was. He looked back into your apartment ready to call you over only to find you standing behind him already, “Jungkook?”
Taehyung moved out of the way and let Jungkook through who immediately went right to you, “I wanted to see you, is this a bad time?”
You looked back to your friends who didn’t even pretend to act like they weren’t eavesdropping. You smiled, “No, come in, we’re just talking.”
Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you inside and you led him straight to the kitchen, “Want a drink?”
“Mhm,” Jungkook responded, watching you sweetly as you opened and closed cabinets. You served him a drink and asked, “What’s that red mark by your eye?”
It took him a moment to process what you were asking and he brought a hand up, “Oh, I was boxing and I think my friend hit me a little too hard.”
You made a pouting face teasingly, “Poor baby.”
He smiled knowing you were just teasing him but also showing interest, “Kiss it better?” With a roll of your eyes you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss near his eye. You led him back to the living room where your friends were.
“So you’re the one who Y/n’s cheating on me with,” Hoseok joked right away and it made you roll your eyes as the others laughed. Jungkook didn’t react but his gaze did seem to harden as he stared at the stranger. You scooted a little closer to Jungkook letting him wrap his arm around you as you leaned back on the couch, “Pack it up Hobi, the joke’s old.”
“It’s not a joke to me!” Hoseok said with a wink as he turned to Jungkook, “Alright whatever, as long as you’re better than the last guy.”
“Oh my god!” Jiyoung squeaked, “Hobi, you can’t just say things like that. Are you drunk?”
He smiled, “I’m just saying.”
Jungkook tilted his head in your direction but you just sighed, “Please ignore them.”
“Oh.”
“So, what are you two anyway? You went crazy with the flowers,” Taehyung asked curiously, joking a little at the end.
Jungkook kept his gaze down, trying his hardest to ignore your friends while also listen in to your answer. You raised your cup to your lips looking at Jungkook who met your gaze hesitantly.
Say he’s your boyfriend, Jungkook thought.
Say you’re his.
Say he’s the on—
“We’re just… yknow, having fun?”
He stopped.
His muscles tensed, tongue poking against his cheek as he looked away from you to hide his expression. His lips curled with the need to scoff but he kept it in. He wanted to ask you why you would say that but not in front of the others. It should be a private conversation between the two of you about your relationship because you clearly weren’t just having fun.
He kept his gaze focused on the picture you had hanging above the fireplace mantle. Your apartment was identical to him and he looked at every corner as if in search of something. With a clear of his throat, he turned to you, “Bathroom?”
“I’ll show you,” you said, patting his thigh as you rose to your feet. You took his hand in yours immediately shooting electricity down his arm as he held it tightly. You pointed to the bathroom but before you got there you asked, “You okay? You’re being kind of quiet.”
“I’m fine, I’m having fun,” Jungkook said with a strained voice, he never tore his gaze away from yours as you stood in front of him near the bathroom. You haven’t known him for long but you do know that when Jungkook looks at you, he never looks this strained. There was clearly something on his mind.
With a defeated sigh, you gave up on asking him anything and went back to the living room. Jungkook waited against the door for a minute to see if you would come back. When you didn’t he took a turn down the rest of the hall fumbling with something he shoved in the big pocket of his black cargo pants.
He looked down at the tiniest camera he’s ever seen and like he was walking into his own place, he went straight to your bedroom. He moved swiftly, finding exactly where he wanted to hide it and in no time he was back to the bathroom pretending to be busy.
You released a sigh, “Let’s call it a night.”
You enjoyed having your friends over and you had spent pretty much all evening with them but you’re getting tired already. It was late, you had a surprisingly busy day today and all your social battery is just completely out. Plus, if they’re just going to talk or tease Jungkook then you'd rather just call it a night. You feel it in your gut that you said something that annoyed him at least a little and it’s probably when they asked what the two of you were.
You don’t know what your relationship with him is, if you’re being honest. Since the beginning you told yourself you didn’t want to date but it feels like that’s what Jungkook wants. You shouldn’t lead him on so you should be open about what you’re looking for but you also don’t want to make him stop talking to you. You have no idea how he really thinks about you so it’s all just so confusing.
“Awe,” Jiyoung whined as she watched you begin to clean up some of the things. The guys seemed too drunk to even care that you were kicking them out as they got up without complaint. When Jungkook finished up he came out to an empty apartment.
He didn’t like what he felt at the moment. You telling your friends that it’s all just fun really bothered him and it made him realize that he hasn’t asked the right questions. Jungkook played with his lip ring as he watched you clean up and he found himself asking, “So uh, how long ago was your last relationship? Your friend brought it up kind of and I guess I just never asked that sort of thing.”
“Um…” your movements seemed to slow as you thought about how to answer, “Two months ago?”
It was quiet for a moment and as hard as you tried, you couldn’t read his expression. Jungkook’s gaze hardened as he tried to think of what happened two months ago, “When we met? Do you still talk to him?”
You rolled your eyes remembering your ex boyfriend. At the time you definitely were a lot more hurt about it now but that doesn’t mean you want to talk about the guy. He cheated on you and now you’re scared it’ll happen again if you start dating.
“No, he cheated on me,” you told Jungkook as you sat down on your couch. Jungkook bit his lip ring hard in thought.
If you and the guy broke up around the time where he met you then that would mean when he met you at the club and saw your bloodshot eyes… it must’ve been when you broke up. You kissed him in the middle of a heartbreak too drunk to even remember. Now you’re telling your friends it’s all just some fun you’re having fun with him and he still doesn’t get what that means.
You watched him stare off into space, eyes wide in thought and you patted the spot on the couch next to yours for him to sit down. You know you’re confusing and you really don’t think you want to be in a relationship but Jungkook… it’s hard to explain. He’s a little intense and sometimes too pushy but for some reason you really did like him.
As he sat down you couldn’t help but play with the Sterling silver Vivienne Westwood chain necklace he wore. He watched your finger hook itself onto the chain and his breath hitched at the warm touch of your finger against his skin. You looked at him with wide and sparkly eyes that had his tongue playing with his lip ring as he bunched up the hem of his black Nirvana tee in his fingers to stop his hands from shaking by having you so close. Without much warning, you tugged on the chain with your index finger and like a devoted pet, he was following your call until his lips met yours. Some of his longer curls tickled your cheeks and he kissed you with such eagerness nearly toppling over you when you pulled on the chain.
His teeth pulled on your bottom lip softly as he opened his eyes, looking down at you, “I would never hurt you like the others have.”
You’ve grown used to the way Jungkook acts around you. He likes to be the one to do things for you despite you being able to do it on your own. He hates when you don’t text back in an hour or two. He always seems to know when you’re not home, he offers to pick you up from work, he tries to come anytime you go out with your friends. He’s just sort of always around. You’re not sure if he’s like that with others but that’s how he is with you.
You should definitely be a little burdened by it, it’s suffocating honestly but you genuinely don’t think Jungkook has bad intentions with it. He doesn’t talk much about himself or his friends or family but he always seems to be interested in hearing everything about you. You’re not sure if he has many other people to talk to and you enjoy his time too much to push him away.
One thing you hate to admit and really the only downside to him is his obsession with getting you flowers. The first time the two of you went out he asked you what flowers you liked and you told him absentmindedly. You never expected him to have so many bouquets of them delivered—nor did you expect to receive one every time you saw him.
You loved flowers and were thankful for the thought behind it but you’re beginning to hate Baby’s Breath. You’re starting to see them everywhere from work to home to any time you see Jungkook. They’re everywhere and it’s beginning to feel like you’re drowning in the little white flowers.
If only you had the heart to tell him that he didn’t need to get you flowers every time he saw you.
“Y/n,” Jungkook had a huge smile on his face, “This is Namjoon, That’s Yoongi.”
He pointed to two of his friends who hung around his living room. His arm was around your waist loosely as he directed you to a seat, only to pull you onto his lap when he sat down. You smile shyly as you attempt to greet them only to have Jungkook pull your attention back on him when he places a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade, arms tight around you.
Namjoon was surprised to see this side of Jungkook and he’s only just met you. It makes him wonder if he’s always been this way with you. He very rarely sees the guy smile much less show this much affection to one person and it’s all just very new to him. He’s seen Jungkook upset and mad plenty of times but to see him look soft and gentle was something entirely different.
“Nice of Jungkook to finally let us meet you,” Yoongi said with a light chuckle as he offered you a drink. You took the cup from him with a smile as he continued, “You’re all he talks about, it’s weird.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook warned as you felt his arms tighten around you just slightly. Yoongi just smiled, “I’m just saying, it’s been nonstop weeks of listening about you talk about your girlfriend so it’s nice to finally get to meet her, right Joon?”
Your brows seemed to scrunch together in confusion as you looked to Jungkook. The two of you weren’t technically dating, sure, you hang out all the time and have sex but you’ve never actually considered yourselves in a relationship. You thought you’ve made it clear that this was fun and maybe you’re to blame for possibly leading him on but he’s never referred to you as his girlfriend or partner.
If he has been saying that to his friends then you would like to have a talk with him about where the two of you stand before it happens again. You leaned back against Jungkook’s chest trying to look at him but before you could say something he planted a quick kiss on your lips making you forget your own words.
Jungkook knew that your pretty mind was thinking about what his friends were saying and he just wanted to tell you not to worry about any of it. Of course he tells his friends you’re his girlfriend but it’s not like he’s begging you to be. He knows that you had a rough break up with the last guy and as much as he wants to find out who he was and hurt him for hurting you… he also had to thank him. If it wasn’t for the break up then you wouldn’t have been out that night of your kiss and he wouldn’t have met you. He knows that to you, a relationship isn’t ideal at the moment but he’s still basically forcing you into one even if you want to say you’re not dating him.
He spends all his free time with you.
He calls you and texts you all day.
He watches over you while you sleep through his new cameras.
He makes sure nobody breaks in.
He’s always around in case something happens and he knows you’re thankful for him even if you don’t really know all the things he does for you.
You began to completely tune out the rest of their talk growing bored and you resorted to playing with his hair. It was getting longer and the curls were beginning to loosen so it was easy to run your fingers through them and hold it back like you were going to tie his hair. Maybe you were acting like a kid letting him talk to his friends while also basically begging for his attention but you were just bored. His friends seemed like nice people but you weren’t really interested in their conversation. You felt bad for sort of distracting Jungkook but you didn’t stop playing with his hair, even when he smiled like a bunny at the way you pulled on a strand only to release it and watch it recoil.
You brushed his hair back tucking some of it behind his ear and just like that, your hand seemed to freeze.
Right there staring back at you was a small tattoo that you failed to notice before. Your nail just barely brushed over it but it was real and it’s not old. It was healed for the most part but you can still see specs of dry skin around it meaning it had to be somewhat recent.
A tattoo of Baby’s Breath flowers scattered across the back of his ear and they were small delicate drawings tucked away. How did you not notice this before?
Was it always there?
When did he do it?
It wasn’t because you said they were your favorite, right?
You understand the bouquets — despite the copious amount of them he sends you — you understand the curiosity behind plants but to get it tattooed on his own skin?
You moved your hand away and turned to face forward again as you tried to process what you just saw.
You must be imagining it. There’s no reason why Jungkook would get a tattoo of a flower you told him was your favorite. It just didn’t make sense why he would do that.
Him getting that tattoo for you [maybe?] didn’t make sense.
“What’s up?” He asked you as you stared off into space. His friends had been in their own conversation and Deftones played quietly in the background but like usual, his attention was only ever on you. Even when you’re not around he finds his mind consumed by the thought of you and there’s no escape—not that he would need to.
“Nothing,” you muttered under your breath as you played with the ring on his fingers absentmindedly. You only did this when you were lost in thought and he was curious to know what it is. If he could know every single thing you think about then he would feel much more at ease.
You were being so cute right now even if you weren’t talking. You were sweet and pliant, sitting on his lap letting him hold you and kiss you like his pretty little girlfriend that you were. He sincerely regrets inviting his friends over because all he would like to do is kick them out so he could be alone with you again.
“Actually,” you whispered making his head perk up to listen, “Can we talk?”
“Of course,” Jungkook didn’t hesitate to stand up with you against him as he looked to his friends, “We’ll be right back.”
You followed Jungkook down the hall into his familiar bedroom with the black silk bed sheets and band posters on the walls. This time around there was a new picture frame on his desk and it was one of you and him. You seemed to be asleep in the picture with your head resting on Jungkook’s naked chest near his piercings. He had a tattooed hand in your hair and you can just tell his touch was gentle. You can’t remember when he would have taken that but he had the picture framed.
In the corner of his nightstand was a vase filled with Baby’s Breath and for the first time since you met him did you actually feel the suffocating nature of his affection. Just earlier you were saying how much you enjoyed him and yet right now it’s starting to hit you that this might not all be normal.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked gently as he watched you look around his bedroom, a smile on his face.
You didn’t know where to begin so you started with the first thing that confused you today.
“Your friends called me your girlfriend,” you said, “And I… well alright whatever, it’s fine but we’ve never talked about a relationship, you know?”
“I know…” Jungkook said, smile gone as he waited for you to keep going. He doesn’t understand why you feel the need to clear it up, it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. It’s the truth even if you hate to admit it.
“You know?” You asked, “So why did your friends call me your girlfriend? And why did they say they’ve been waiting to meet me for a while no—“
Jungkook released a soft chuckle as he came up to you, brushing your hair back, “I don’t know, maybe they just assumed because I talk about you a lot. I didn’t know I couldn’t even talk about you to my friends.”
“That’s not the problem Jungkook,” you took a deep breath in thought, trying to gather the right words, “What about the flowers?”
“What about them?”
“I appreciate the gesture, I really do but you don’t… you know you don’t have to give me some all the time,” you said with your arms crossed over your chest self consciously, “And the tattoo.”
“Tattoo?”
Jungkook was playing dumb and he was doing a hell of a good job at it. He’s not sure what your deal is or why you suddenly look uncomfortable next to him but you need to stop. Everything’s fine, you’re making yourself worked up and he doesn’t get why.
“Behind your ear,” you clarified, “Of the flower? When did you get that?”
He shrugged, “A week ago, maybe? Do you like it?”
“What is it?” You needed to hear him say it. He stared at you blankly as he took another step toward you.
“Baby’s Breath, I didn’t know they were my favorite too until you came along,” he said and before he could take another he asked, “Are you alright? You seem a little shaken up.”
“I just need a minute,” you said, missing the way his dark eyes hardened as he watched you step back from him. With a clenched jaw he nodded, “Alright, take all the time you need. I’ll just be out there.”
You didn’t say anything as you went ahead and took a seat on the edge of his bed hearing the sound of the door click shut behind him. Maybe you’re just overthinking it. He can have a flower tattoo… no big deal.
Even if it’s the same flower he’s delivered practically a hundred bouquets of to you.
Even if he asked what your favorite flower was.
It’s a basic flower you’re overthinking it.
Jungkook looked at his two friends who busied themselves with bottles of Soju and his large television. They didn’t even bother to turn his music off either and now Ever by Team Sleep was playing at an annoyingly high volume with the tv on too.
Yoongi was laughing over something Namjoon said, he looked up just in time to find Jungkook standing only a few feet away from them, keeping still. He still smiled with the urge to laugh as he asked, “Everything good? You want another drink?”
“Actually, I think it’s time you leave,” Jungkook said coldly yet his two friends barely flinched, waving him off with a hand. It’s not like they weren’t used to his quick mood changes, they’ve known him too long to not read the signs. He’s a little intense and serious but he’s also a loving kid at heart. He doesn’t know how to express anything properly, he just knows how to do it in the extreme. He’s annoyed by something right now but give him a drink and he’ll get over it.
Namjoon extended out a glass of Soju to him, “One more.”
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second as you tried to clear your head. You were overthinking shit, you don’t even want this. You like him but a relationship?
Alone in his bedroom you could really picture this as yours. It’s crazy how identical they are and it was a good distraction to keep you from going back out there and telling him you would just like to go home for the night. Standing up you walked over to the window finding it strange to view your own apartment out the window.
You took a step away turning instead to look at his desk which was unorganized and filled with tattoo sketches from when he does work at home. Now you were being nosy, you were trying to stall your departure but the picture frame of you on his desk was just staring at you. You picked it up to get a better look but the lights reflection was too bright. With squinted eyes you turned it down and popped the back off hoping to see the picture without the glass in the way.
Instantly, three matching 4x6 pictures fell out of the open frame with their backs facing up. You assumed Jungkook just continued to put new pictures over the old ones instead of switching them out.
Worried he would catch you snooping, you bent down to pick the pictures up, turning them your way.
Jungkook took a deep breath as he stared at the two of them unamused, “I said, I think it’s time you leave.”
He knows you’re upset and something tells him he’s to blame so he needs to figure out what. He can’t focus on you while his friends are here trying to expose and ruin everything he has built up with you.
Why did they have to call you his girlfriend and why are you being such a bitch about it?
He fucking hated flowers yet he wanted to get something you love permanent on his skin and you want be mad?
He can’t catch a break. First you can’t even remember him, then you make him worried sick whenever you’re at home alone or with one of your friends. He’s tried so hard to not be the possessive boyfriend but goddamn is he sick of watching your bedroom camera footage and seeing you laughing and hanging with Taehyung every other night.
Now you can’t even be appreciative of the very kind and thoughtful gesture of putting a permanent mark of what your relationship was on his neck? All of his tattoos have a meaning and yours means the most yet you want to question why he would even get it? You’re very lucky he’s able to play things off to save himself from embarrassment. You didn’t recognize his gesture and instead questioned him, turning it from romantic to strange.
He’s just annoyed at this point but he knows that once he gets you to relax everything will be fine. You’re like a little kitten, if he pushes too hard you draw back so he has to ease you into this like he’s done since the beginning.
“Oh,” Namjoon was stunned as his eyes trailed back to Jungkook’s room where you had closed yourself on for some reason. He wondered for a moment if the two of you were in a fight because Jungkook looked so happy earlier and now he just looks on edge. Yoongi and Namjoon shared a similar look as they slowly came to accept it despite how strange he was acting, “Okay.”
“Are you guys alright?” Yoongi couldn’t help but ask as he got up to leave. Jungkook forced a smile, “Yeah, Y/n’s not feeling good though.”
Namjoon seemed to relax, “Really?”
“She did seem kind of quiet…” Yoongi said as his friend nodded in agreement.
You felt stuck, you couldn’t tear your gaze away and you couldn’t even try to move your body.
The first picture was alright, it was the same picture of you in his arms, it was normal.
The second one was… alarming? It was a zoomed in picture of your bedroom window with you sitting at your vanity doing your makeup to go out. You were looking at yourself and you were holding a lipgloss or something, you couldn’t tell with the window frames in the way.
The third was where your blood seemed to run cold. Right there in black and white was a clear and up close picture of you sleeping in your own bed. It wasn’t taken by someone next to you but more so it was an angle that looked like it was hidden.
Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair as his friends finally left and he prepared to see what was on your mind. He let himself back into his bedroom quietly, clicking the door shut and smiling warmly, “Kay, it’s just us, you can come out now.”
He turned to you calmly, eyes locking on the three photos in your hands and the empty picture frame laying on his desk.
Oh.
You found his favorite pictures.
“What are these?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady and calm, “Are you stalking me?”
“Not exactly,” Jungkook sighed in defeat, “It’s just…”
He took a step toward you and you immediately put your hands up in defense. He practically giggled as he moved your hands away, “Stop messing around, I’ll explain.”
“Don’t touch me,” you said, taking a step away, “Do you have a camera in my room?”
Jungkook wasn’t smiling anymore, “Why can’t I touch you? I’ll explain, just relax.”
“I’m not going to relax, Jungkook, I want you to tell me what the fuck is going on,” you told him moving closer to the front door with him circling you like a predator watching its pray waiting to attack.
“Yes, I put a camera in your room but I was just worried,” he said with a laugh like he was shy to admit it, “I just kept thinking of something happening to you in your dreams and—look, stay calm, I’m just being honest, isn’t that what you wanted?”
You were itching to leave because suddenly there’s something deep in your gut telling you that this guy really is weird. Was he really trying to justify a literal crime? How crazy was he?
He’s so calm too and he’s smiling and laughing like it’s all just no big deal even though you’ve just learned he’s got cameras watching you in your own home.
You didn’t want to know anything more at the moment. To be honest you were just freaked the fuck out and ready to just leave and get away from him. You needed to find that camera too or else you think you’ll faint from wondering if this was actually happening or not. His friends weren’t even here anymore to hear you two talk.
Jungkook watched as you reached for the door and before either of you knew it, he was on his feet moving to stop you. His arms wrapped around your body, trapping your arms at your sides and carrying you away from the door. You immediately went to scream but his hand came up around your mouth as he walked over to his bed, “Shhh, I’m not gonna do anything, babe, you know me. I just don’t want you leaving while we’re trying to have a conversation.”
“What was I saying?” Jungkook asked himself as he let his hand fall from your mouth, “Oh! You know, I never meant to do that but I was just never able to stop thinking about you. I wanted to be close with you even when I couldn’t be and I had to think of a way to do that.”
“From the very first moment I saw you and we kissed, I just… well it’s just hard to believe we’re not meant to be together,” Jungkook said, staring off at the pictures in your hand, “I mean moving in next door was really just by chance but isn’t it so crazy that fate wanted us to find each other. You still don’t believe it?”
“You’re crazy,” you muttered fighting back a tear as you pushed back at him. His hold on you loosened at your words and you took the chance to get up but he was right there in front of you with widened eyes.
“I’m not crazy,” he said with a shaky voice like he was truly becoming more unhinged by the second, “I’m in love.”
Each step you took back he took one forward and you wanted to run out the door but you couldn’t. It’s like you were completely stuck trying to figure out what to do. It’s crazy how your best friends always joked about him being a stalker but for him to actually set up cameras specifically to watch you? That was more than what you ever imagined and you were so scared. What other pictures or videos did he have of you? What did he do with them?
Jungkook knew you were incapable of running. You love him too and he knows it, maybe you didn’t in the beginning but now you’re clearly attached to him just the same and you’re so surprised you’re not running. You want to run but you can’t deny that you have really grown to love him and if he has to show you how far he’ll go to make you love him back he will. He dropped down to his knees in front of you taking your hands in his and gripping them tightly against his chest when you tried to yank them back.
“Jungkoo—“
“I’ll change,” Jungkook said and you watched the way his eyes seemed to redden and shake from how hard he was trying but to cry or go crazy, “I’ll change Y/n, I promise. I’ll be better. I’ll—“
“No, it’s too late, I can’t. You’ve been stalking me! Do you get that? I’m not just going to change my mind Jungkook,” you tried to say but he wouldn’t let go. He only moved closer, arms wrapping around your waist as he clung to you from the floor down on his knees for you.
“I love you, Y/n, please just give me a chance,” Jungkook said as you tried shaking him off.
“I don’t love you Jungkook, I never wi—“
“I don’t care!” He shouted making you jump at the sudden rise of his deep voice, hands tightening on your hips, eyes wide and red, close to tears and unblinking, “You don’t have to love me back as long as you let me love you.”
“That’s so fucked,” you nearly cried but he wouldn’t let up.
“Y/n.”
You looked down at him and in truth he looked like he was close to snapping and you were scared. He had such a strong idea about romance and love and soulmates that he doesn’t even care if you don’t feel the same. That’s sad and pathetic. This wasn’t the Jungkook you had started to fall for.
You never expected him to be like this, he wasn’t dangerous or putting you in harms way he’s just… he’s just really fucking delusional and that’s what’s scary. You don’t know what he’ll do. He’s never made you feel unsafe like he is right now.
“Don’t you realize that there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you to let me love you,” Jungkook said seriously, “I’ll show you it all.”
He’s been very tame till now. He’s tried so hard to be gentle and loving in front of you but you’re making it so hard right now to keep the act up. He never wanted to scare you but if you really do try and walk out that door and think he’s going to let you… you’re dead fucking wrong.
“Jungkook…” he clung to you, face pressed against your lower stomach not letting you move, “This isn’t normal.”
“Y/n if you try to leave me,” his voice was cracking, close to breaking and his entire body trembled, “I won’t be able to live without you, please…”
He was insane. You know he’s crazy, you know he’s just trying to scare you into not running out that door and you hated to admit that it was working. He just seemed so unhinged right now and the way his body was trembling and voice breaking as he hugged you so tightly, you really are scared he might do something to himself. It’s not something you want to risk by leaving, who knows what he’ll do to himself.
Unsure of what to do, you dropped a shaky hand into his hair, brushing it back as he cried, “I’ll change, I swear. You can’t leave me, I can’t live knowing you aren’t with me.”
You’ve heard so many stories about people trying to leave their partners and it only ended up with them in the news with old pictures of them smiling as people talked about how much they missed them and you really couldn’t do that. If he can’t have you… how do you know that means he’ll let someone else have you? He’s never made you fear for your life… he seemed so normal, not like this deranged man who’s been caught having secret cameras watching you.
With a shaky breath, you slowly letting your hands hug around his neck, “Shh, it’s alright…”
Your voice trembled in fear as you slowly dropped to your knees feeling him sob against you, “We—We’ll… let’s figure this out, okay? Just calm down, take a deep breath.”
“Y/n, I love you,” he hiccups as you could his face trying to wipe away tears as you dropped to your knees. Now that you’ve got a clearer head you can hear the stupid band he’s obsessed with still playing from the living room. His silver chain that you always played with still shimmered in the light and you hooked your fingers around it to remind him that you’re cooperating.
You’ve just now noticed that his Deftones’ Around the Fur tee was drenched in his tears along with the front of your jeans and you very carefully wrapped your arms around him, “I’m not leaving.”
He didn’t care if it was out of love or fear, he held you tightly nevertheless, not letting you go as he tried to kiss you only for you to flinch back. Scared he wouldn’t like that, you forced yourself to lean into him for a kiss, tasting his dry, salty tears on your lips.
He smiled his same stupid bunny smile—like everything was right in the world and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve been dreaming of you and me like this for so long time, baby, don’t you ever try to leave me again, okay?”
“Okay, why don’t we lie down? It’ll make you feel better,” you whispered gently and his dark eyes seemed to water and lower lip quiver as he nodded his head. Letting you lead him to his own bed and when you lied down, he went between your legs, keeping you pressed against the bed trapped.
That’s what being with him would feel like, like you’re trapped and all he’ll think about would be how he finally found the one that he’s been searching for. No bells chimed or birds sang, only Romantic Dreams by Deftones was heard playing in the background.
::.
listen y’all this is long 😭 I know it is and as of right now I have no desire to write a part two so it’s open ended. also idk how I feel about this yet but Jungkook is so hot. anyway the taglist is too long so I have to do it in parts.
so sorry to whoever took the time to read this I’m so sorry
personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog g @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802 @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv v @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling
fic taglist: @beshy02 @jooniesxbby @ebony3-blog @loonehbleus @klutzymermaid @tarotcoconut @whipwhoops @wdym-ree @somehowukook @fxirytaetae @nochuel @thaiika @ilove-tae @taeyongzodiactinkiri @gamer-carat @jungkookieeee97 @l0cal101 @justinseagul1 @haileycannotcometothephonern @minayas1998 @autumnbear @urf1lterr @yoongiwantsme @wnderkoo @theblueslytherin @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @8makes1scream @yjwonnn @blueberry711 @kimchimtae @babyitscoldoutside @simple-day-dreamer @yoongisgirl @ackercute @glitterkoo @darkuni63
[taglist is too long and I can only do 50 so I have to add the rest of y’all in a reblog]
#jeon jungkook#jungkook yandere#Jungkook smut#jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook au#Jungkook oneshot#Jungkook fic#jungkook x y/n#yandere jungkook#bts#SoundCloud#romantic dreams
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