#and i'm off to write the wedding chapter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solavita · 9 days ago

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ultraviolence — sylus (l&d)

pairing ; sylus x fem!reader

words ; 4.0k

synopsis ; you were married to sylus because of an arranged pact he had with your father. and it seemed as if there was nothing you could do to get his attention.

warning(s) ; smut (18+), darkish themes, mentions of crime, mentions of sex, power play, manipulation/power dynamics, THIGH RIDING, themes of voyeurism and mild exhibitionism, fake relationship (basically), arranged marriage.

chapter ; 1/? (i might write more if ppl want it)

a/n ; i'm new to this fandom . . . . sorry if my lore isn't correct but also um. yeah! hi. sylus brainworms.

You were convinced that you were going to be in this golden cage forever.

Ever since you had been married off to the leader of Onlychinus for your family to exchange your life for a significant amount of money for their access to exclusive protocores, you hadn’t had much of a life of your own besides the four walls of the huge mansion where you now resided. Sure, you were given a life of luxury that almost no one in the N109 would even dream of having, and you had more money than you would ever need, but the one thing that you wanted seemed so abysmal for a person like you. You’d always been primed to be sold off to the highest bidder and yet for some reason you thought the man you would’ve married would at least be there.

But the only time you saw your husband was the meal in the morning and the meal at night, sometimes not even then. It was like he was keen on pretending that you didn’t exist, and it was beginning to drive you insane. This was not how you wanted your life to be for the future, no matter how many ‘gifts’ he seemed to give you while he was courting you, or how the servants were forever indebted to you. Was he seeing someone else? He was gone for long hours, sometimes into the night . . . Was he truly just not interested in you?

It made your blood boil. Your blood pressure was at an all time high whenever you even began to think about it.

You were friends with multiple women that you had known since birth, all daughters of the N109 zone’s elite — another name for the most influential criminals. They had all been married for longer than you, fawning over the praise and the love and attention they got from their husbands. What made you even more rageful was when they would talk about what their husbands were like in bed, always asking you what Sylus was like. After all, your wedding to him was something that made history and the gossip that surrounded you for being the woman who would get to share his bed was at an all time high. It had been two weeks since you had been married, they were itching to get even an ounce of gossip to go back and tell their families about.

You sipped on your glass of wine, flicking at a feather that had fallen out of the intricate laces of your bodice, trying to come up with some type of deflection to get them to stop asking so many questions. “Oh, you know Sylus, he doesn’t like to have his personal life talked about,” you chided, hoping that the threat of being in his bad favor would get them to cease. Instead, it made them lean in closer, one of the younger girls giggling.

“Come on. We won’t tell. Tell us, Y/N, what’s going on under all that black clothing? I just know he’s given you a good time,” She said in a hushed whisper. “We were surprised you could even walk when you came to the club today. The honeymoon phase is the most intense, you know.”

You were fucked.

How were you supposed to tell your closest friends that your wonderful husband has probably looked at you a total of five times (twice at your wedding) since you had been married? How he seems to act as if you are just another person that he can use for his whim whenever he wants to? You were certain that you didn’t even know anything about him. And he was the person you were supposed to be sharing the rest of your life with? It was infuriating. So infuriating that you eventually came up with a reason why you had to come home, having your driver come to pick you up and take you back to your shared mansion, your insufferable golden cage.

You huffed, opening the door and shutting it with a ferocity you were not even aware you had, slamming down your handbag onto the grand table in the middle of the hall. You began to fiddle with the clasps of one of your golden bracelets. It was dark inside the house, as there was no need for all the lights to be on when there were never any guests here besides your husband's workers anyways.

“Touchy.”

You turned on your heel to the source of the voice, being met with the figure of your husband leaning against the doorframe. He was still wearing his outside clothing, like he just got back home himself. Dark black leathers with maroon tinged undertones colliding with the paleness of his skin, silver hair neatly pushed back. Sylus stood there, his presence commanding even in the dimly lit hallway. His unreadable eyes — piercing and cold — scanned you briefly before a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t inviting. It was something else entirely. Something that made your stomach tighten with a mix of frustration and unease.

“You’re home,” you said curly, your voice laced with the irritation you didn’t bother to hide. “What a rare occurrence.”

Sylus arched an eyebrow. He cocked his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I could say the same about you. Didn’t expect you back so soon from your little gathering." Your heart skipped a beat at the way his words lingered, his tone deceptively casual. He knew. He always knew. You hated how he could so easily pull the ground out from under you.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you lied smoothly, resuming your struggle with the clasp. Thought it better to come home early.”

“Ah,” he said, stepping closer, invading your personal space that you were unsure was even yours anymore. “Funny, though. Your friends seemed to be having a . . . lively discussion about me. Or should I say, us?”

Your hands stilled entirely, the bracelet slipping from your fingers, clinking loudly onto the table. “What are you talking about?” You asked as you shot him a glare. You assumed that he would know where you were at all times — being as controlling as he was over his assets — but there was no inclination that he would know what you were talking about. Did he always know what you were talking about with your friends? Or an even better question, how did he know?

"They’re quite the curious little group, aren’t they? Asking all sorts of... intimate questions."

Heat crept up your neck, a mix of anger and humiliation. You couldn’t believe that you were being cornered over something that wasn’t even your idea to bring up in the first place. And furthermore you couldn’t believe that he was willing to bring it up in the first place. It wasn’t as though he seemed to care about intimacy anyways. “It’s none of their business,” you snapped, meeting his gaze despite the flush blooming in your cheeks. “And it’s certainly none of yours.”

“Oh, but it is my business,” he countered smoothly, his tone almost teasing. “After all, they’re speculating about me, aren’t they? Wondering what kind of husband I am. Whether I’ve been . . .” He paused, allowing for the words to simmer. “. . . attentive.”

Your jaw clenched. He was enjoying this. Watching you squirm under his scrutiny. “If you’re so worried about appearances, maybe you should try actually being here once in a while,” you shot back, though your voice betrayed the faintest tremor. “Then people wouldn’t have to wonder.”

He chuckled. “Oh, Y/N,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “You’re fiery tonight. I almost prefer you like this.” He leaned in just enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “But let’s not pretend you’re worried about appearances. You’re angry because you don’t know. Isn’t that right?”

You hated how his words cut so intricately through you, like he knew exactly what to say to make you even more irritated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, though your voice betrayed you as it was barely above a whisper.

“No?” His gaze dipped to your lips for the briefest of moments before returning to your eyes, his smirk softening into something more . . . calculated. “Then why are you blushing?”

You took a step back, desperate to reclaim some semblance of control over the situation. “You’re insufferable,” you snapped, crossing your arms across the bodice of your dress in an attempt to shield yourself from his penetrating gaze. The anger in your chest burned hotter, fueled by his smugness, his cryptic remarks, and the undeniable pull he seemed to have over you. You stormed upstairs to your room, your heels clicking angrily against the polished floor.

The nerve of him. He’d come home, cornered you with your own frustrations, teased you to the point of boiling over, and acted as if none of it mattered. As though you didn’t matter. The gall of the man was enough to make your blood boil — and yet, you couldn’t stop the way your heart was pounding or the heat that lingered on your skin from his proximity.

You hated him for that.

You hated him for making you feel anything at all.

—

You barely got any sleep last night. It was partially because of your encounter with your husband, but also because you decided it was time to devise a plan. You would make him cave into desperation for you. You would wear your most frilliest, most revealing nightgowns to breakfast in the mornings. You’d make yourself look more appealing than ever, makeup done every day, hair perfect. Anything to make him cave first.

You woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. But it was no matter, you had a plan now, and you weren’t going to back down. If Sylus wanted to play games, you were going to make sure you played to win. Your reflection stared back at you, confident and calculated, a far cry from the simmering frustration of the night before. Your nightgown was a delicate thing, soft and sheer, with intricate lace that hinted at everything underneath but revealed just enough to spark curiosity. It was utterly impractical, especially for breakfast, but that was precisely the point.

You smoothed a hand over the silky fabric and inspected your work one last time. Hair perfectly styled, lips painted a tempting shade, and just the faintest touch of perfume — enough to linger without overwhelming your target.

Sylus was already there, seated at the head of the table, his posture relaxed as he sipped his morning coffee. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, his red eyes narrowing slightly as they flicked over you. For a fraction of a second, his gaze lingered on your nightgown, his jaw tightening imperceptibly. It was small enough that perhaps he thought you wouldn’t notice. But you had a long history of deciphering men’s faces. You suppressed a smile.

Got him.

“Good morning,” you greeted, your tone light and airy as you took your seat across the table at the other head, like it was a normal morning. Except this time, you made a point to adjust your nightgown enough to reveal the expanse of your collarbone.

“Good morning,” he replied, his voice steady, though his gaze was sharpened. He set his coffee down and leaned back in his chair, studying you with a look that was equal parts amused and intrigued. “You’re up early.”

You sighed, like it was something trivial. “Couldn’t sleep,” you said breezily, reaching for a piece of fruit. You took a small bite, ensuring your movements were slow and deliberate, before glancing at him through your lashes. “Thought I’d make the most of the morning.”

Sylus didn’t respond immediately, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your pulse quicken. “I see,” he said finally. He picked up his fork, his movements as calm and deliberate as ever, but there was a tension in his shoulders that definitely hadn’t been there before.

Checkmate.

He could act indifferent all he wanted, but the flicker of tension in his demeanor told you everything you needed to know. This was only the beginning.

You’d make him cave. You’d make him desperate. And you wouldn’t stop until you had the upper hand.

—

Two weeks passed, and your efforts to make Sylus cave felt like a maddening exercise in futility. Despite your nightgowns, your perfectly styled hair, and your flawlessly applied makeup, Sylus remained infuriatingly stoic. He seemed to notice, oh yes—his lingering glances and occasional tightening of his jaw betrayed that much—but he never faltered. Never gave you the satisfaction of knowing you’d cracked his facade.

You were at your wit’s end.

That’s when the idea struck you: if he refused to react in private, you’d force his hand in public. You didn’t hesitate. Tonight, you’d wear the most scandalous dress you owned and make your presence impossible to ignore. Sylus had mentioned during breakfast that he had a meeting with some of his “business partners” in the main study. You knew what that meant: the criminals who operated under his shadow, men who thrived on power and weren’t subtle about their vices. If Sylus wasn’t going to crack under your teasing in private, maybe he’d crack in public — especially with prying eyes.

The dress you chose was bold, scandalous even. The deep red fabric hugged your curves in a way that felt almost indecent, with a neckline that plunged daringly low and a slit up the side that revealed more than enough leg. You paired it with high heels that clicked against the polished floors as you made your way to the study, your heart pounding in anticipation.

The room fell silent the moment you stepped inside.

Sylus was seated at the head of the table, his silver eyes snapping to you instantly. The men seated around him — a motley crew of hardened faces and expensive suits — turned as one to look at you, their gazes lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. But you didn’t falter. You walked in as if you owned the room, pretending not to notice the way their stares burned into you.

“Y/N,” Sylus said, his voice sharp enough to cut through the thick silence. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” you said sweetly, placing a hand on the back of one of the chairs as you leaned slightly forward. You could feel the weight of their eyes on you, but you kept your focus on Sylus. “I was just looking for a book. Thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

One of the men let out a low whistle, and another chuckled under his breath. “That’s quite the dress for a library run,” one of them remarked, his tone dripping with suggestion. “Sylus, I didn’t know you were keeping such… exquisite company.” The room erupted into muted laughter, and you saw the way Sylus’s jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white where his hand gripped the armrest of his chair. His gaze flickered to the man who’d spoken, then back to you, and for the first time in weeks, you saw something crack in his composure.

Sylus stood, his movements slow and deliberate as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. “We'll continue this discussion later,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. The men exchanged glances but nodded, rising from their seats and filing out of the room. A few cast lingering looks in your direction, but one sharp glare from Sylus sent them hurrying on their way.

When the door finally closed behind them, the silence was deafening.

“Do you have any idea who those men are? What they could’ve said — what they could’ve done — if I wasn’t there?” His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. Finally, he took another step closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’re trying to provoke me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And it’s working.”

The way that he was looking at you, like you were prey, was something that you knew you should cower under. This was when he expected for you to give it up, but with all the frustration that you had over almost a month of being with him, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He walked up to you, pinning you between the door and himself, ever so imposing, like he was trying to make you cower. Instead, you looked right back up at him, your eyes meeting him, almost begging him to do something. Anything. Sylus’ hand came up in between the two of you, his fingers toying with the expensive fabric of your dress, so close to your chest. And then, in the split of a second, that same hand came to your throat, forcing you to look up at him, showing you that there was no way of getting out of his trap now. Or was it your trap? You weren’t sure.

Sylus pressed his chest to your own, hand on your throat squeezing ever so slightly, fingers clinging against the expanse of your neck. You could feel his wedding ring dig into your skin, a stark reminder that this was the man that you married. You waited for him to say something, to break the imposing silence that immersed the two of you. He slotted his knee in between your legs, pressing right up against the place where you wanted him the most.

You gave him a look, a look of hesitation or confusion, you weren’t sure.

He chuckled.

“Well, you wanted me, didn’t you?” He asked, a condescending tone that made you want to rip your hair out. He pressed his knee even higher up, the friction of your panties and his clothed knee making you almost whine. “Then use me. Since you want to dress like that.”

You stared, much like a deer in headlights.

And then it hit you.

Oh. Oh.

He wanted you to use his thigh.

The realization struck you like lightning, and your breath hitched in your throat. It was his trap. One that you’d walked into oh so willingly, and yet somehow still managed to underestimate. His knee pressed against you again, and you felt your cheeks flush, heat pooling in your core despite the anger and frustration that still simmered beneath the surface.

“Well?” Sylus prompted, his voice low and dangerously calm, his fingers tightening slightly around your throat. “I’m waiting.”

Your pride screamed at you to push him away, to refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this, but your body betrayed you. The closeness, the tension, the weeks of pent-up frustration — all of it coiled inside you, leaving you trembling and unsure whether you wanted to slap him or give in to him completely. You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you moved instinctively, your hips shifting ever so slightly, testing the friction against his knee. His smirk deepened, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he watched you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with condescension. His free hand moved to your waist, gripping you firmly as he guided you, forcing your hips to rock against him. “That’s it. Don’t be shy now. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, half in resistance and half in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. The sensations were overwhelming, every movement sending sparks through your body. You hated the way he was watching you—like he was completely in control, like he knew exactly how this would end. “You’re insufferable,” you managed to hiss, though your voice lacked the venom you intended.

“And yet,” he said, his tone soft but cutting, “here you are, doing exactly what I tell you to.” The words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your frustration melting into something darker, something you couldn’t deny anymore. Your movements became more deliberate, your breath hitching as you gave in, letting the friction build with every slow, grinding motion. You had purposely worn underwear that was barely there under this dress, and now it was your kryptonite, the friction of his clothed knee, the way you were practically bare grinding against him, the way his other hand guided you with such ease. You were beginning to feel dumb, your head lolling against the door as you chased the high that you had been wanting for what seems forever.

You couldn’t even listen to what he was saying, something about you being so good for him, so malleable like this, how he should’ve done this sooner if this is what got you under control. You didn’t care, whimpering and closing your eyes, a conglomerate of his name and swears leaving your mouth. His hand left your throat, where you were sure were bruises, and instead came to join the other on your waist, setting an impossible pace to make you reach that orgasm that you so desperately wanted. It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it. You dropped your head down to lean against his chest, and sure enough, you saw the embarrassingly large wet patch that you had created on his dress pants. The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, the pain of the friction all melting into your pleasure.

“Beg me,” he ordered, much like how he commanded any space that he was in.

You shook your head, not willing to give in. Even though you were practically the one who lost this game anyway. “No.” You said as he pulled you back and forth, your hips bucking as your legs began to shake. You were sure that if he wasn’t holding you up, you would’ve fallen to the floor.

“Beg me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Or I’ll stop.”

“No, don’t — Sylus, don’t stop —”

“You want to cum? Then ask nicely. Just ask me and I’ll make it all better.”

You could feel tears begin to prick in your eyes, the pleasure becoming too much. You were so close, just about to reach that edge, and yet his hands began to slow down. You whined, your hands pushing against his chest, which was to no avail. You were so fucking close, your hair you had perfectly crafted sticking to your face in a hot sweat.

“Fuck, fine. Please, help me cum, please, oh fuck.”

And just like that, he continued the unruly pace, his head bowing into your neck, a mixture of lips and teeth meeting your skin. That was what did it for you, your legs squeezing his as you shook through every single second of your orgasm. You could feel every piece, every ounce of your essence in it. Your hearing went fuzzy, sighing, eyes rolling open as you tried to come back to yourself. Your hand was pressed against his chest, fingers creasing the black fabric of his dress shirt.

When your eyes finally met his, you couldn’t look away. And Sylus? He looked at you as if he had won some type of prize. You were too exhausted to be angry though, your defiance nowhere to be seen.

“I didn’t even touch you,” he spoke, with a tsk. “You’re such a needy wife.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, Sylus was pushing away from you, causing you to lean your entire body against the door. His eyes scanned your face and then he was leaving out the door on the other side of the room, leaving you there.

Leaving you to miss his touch.

And it was then that you realized it was his game all along.

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focusonkayjay · 1 month ago

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Wildly Wealthy Koreans (2); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, potential smut

Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.

Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 6.6k+

Chapter Warnings: talks about culture, your mom is a meanie

A/N: literally fighting the urge to rewatch crazy rich asians right now omg. anyways, i'm having so much fun writing this because i love explaining every little thing in detail, and this series gives me so many opportunities to do so. let me know your thoughts <3

part 2

“I can’t believe this.” Jungkook breathes out, sinking into the plush comfort of Yoongi’s ridiculously soft mattress. He runs a hand through his hair, his mind racing as he tries to process everything he had found out during the eventful lunch he just had with Yoongi's family.

It feels like the ground beneath him has shifted. You’re not exactly who he thought you were. Not that he had preconceived notions about your life, but this? This was on an entirely different level. “I wonder why she never told me.” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

Yoongi chuckles from across the room as he pulls back the heavy, luxurious curtains, flooding the space with the warm afternoon light. His bedroom is just as opulent as the rest of the mansion... floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek modern furniture, and an aesthetic that screams understated wealth.

“I mean… maybe she didn’t want to show off.” Yoongi suggests casually, as if being from an ultra-rich family is something people hide every day. “Yeah… like you.” Jungkook points out, sitting up and gesturing around the room.

His eyes narrow as they take in every detail. “You never told me you were this...” he pauses, glancing pointedly at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the antique show piece on the side table, and the impossibly soft bedding beneath him “...rich.”

Yoongi smirks as he leans against the window frame, arms crossed. “What can I say? I’m humble like that.”

Jungkook groans, leaning back on the mattress as he throws an arm over his face. “My whole life is a lie. You’re telling me I’ve been surrounded by literal multimillionaires this whole time and I didn’t have a single clue?” His voice is half-frustrated, half-bewildered, and the wide-eyed expression on his face makes Yoongi snort with laughter.

“Come on, you’re being dramatic.” Yoongi teases, his tone light but with a knowing smirk. It’s almost laughable coming from him... the same guy who was practically losing his mind over you back in the dining room. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” he adds casually, as if he hadn’t been the one freaking out just moments ago.

“Not that big of a deal?” Jungkook echoes, sitting up with an incredulous look. “You live in a mansion. You drive a car that costs more than my entire apartment building. And now I find out my girlfriend is a part of one of the most powerful families in the country?” He shakes his head, rubbing his temples. “You’re right. Totally normal. Nothing to see here.”

Yoongi grins, clearly entertained by his friend’s over-the-top reaction. “You’re handling this surprisingly well.” he jokes. Jungkook shoots him a look. “I’m on the verge of an existential crisis, and you’re laughing at me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yoongi says with a shrug, making Jungkook groan again.

“And now I can’t stop thinking about that damn tea party ceremony thing I have to go to, this evening.” Jungkook sighs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

His fingers thread through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know what to expect after everything I’ve learned today.” He breathes out heavily, as though the weight of the world is pressing down on his shoulders.

“Don’t stress it.” Yoongi replies, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant as he leans back in his chair. He looks completely at ease, like Jungkook hadn’t just had his world turned upside down in the span of a few minutes.

Jungkook stares at him, exasperated. “How can I not? I don’t know if I’ll even be able to fit in. Everyone there will probably take one look at me and smell the filth on me. They’ll know right away that I’m a completely different breed compared to them.” he huffs, gesturing dramatically to make his point.

Yoongi stifles a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Jungkook counters, his tone sharp. “I’m just some regular guy. I grew up in a tiny apartment with my mom, eating instant ramen and working part-time jobs to get by. These people... your people... live in literal mansions and probably eat gold-flaked caviar for breakfast or something.” he rambles.

Yoongi finally bursts out laughing, the sound making Jungkook scowl even more. “Gold-flaked caviar? That’s a bit too much, even for us.” Yoongi teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “But seriously, You’re overthinking it.”

Jungkook shakes his head, his insecurities bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get it. I’m not like them. I don’t know the rules, or how to act, or what to say or how... how to dress. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” he says, covering his face as the stress surges through his veins.

"Well, since you brought it up... do you have an outfit for the evening?" Yoongi questions. Jungkook shrugs, a bit unsure. “Well, I have this simple suit. It’s... it's this black-”

“No way.” Yoongi interrupts, shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s no way you’re wearing a simple black suit to this thing.”

Jungkook blinks, taken aback. “What’s wrong with a simple black suit?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.

Yoongi clicks his tongue like a disappointed teacher, standing up from his seat. “This won’t do. Follow me.” he says briskly, already turning on his heels. Jungkook barely has time to react before Yoongi is leading him down the hall and into what can only be described as a dream closet.

The room is enormous, with racks of clothing neatly arranged by color and style. Spotlights illuminate the array of designer outfits, from tailored suits to silk shirts and everything in between.

Shelves line the walls, displaying polished leather shoes, neatly folded ties, and an impressive collection of watches. A faint, luxurious scent lingers in the air, and Jungkook can’t help but gape at the sheer extravagance of it all.

“Okay, let’s see.” Yoongi mutters, his sharp eyes scanning the racks like a man on a mission. He pulls out a prussian blue short coat with clean, sharp lines and a tailored fit. The material has a subtle texture that exudes luxury without being flashy. “This is so so sleek and I think this should be perfect for tonight.” he muses.

“Blue?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “You think that’s the move?”

Yoongi smirks. “I don't think... I know it is.” He sets the coat aside and grabs a light blue silky dress shirt, its soft sheen adding just the right amount of elegance. “This will add a little softness. Plus, it’s classy as hell.” he explains.

Before Jungkook can protest, Yoongi moves to another section, pulling out matching prussian blue trousers. “These match the coat...” he softly says, more to himself.

Yoongi then crouches down to the shoe shelf, grabbing a pair of sleek black loafers “And these... for your feet.” He stands back up and makes his way to the display of accessories.

“We’ll keep it simple...” he murmurs, looking around and a few seconds later, he picks out a delicate diamond brooch shaped like a flower. “This is gonna add just the right amount of sophistication without being too much.” he smiles, proud of himself for the fashion choices he's making.

“Try it on.” Yoongi orders, shoving the outfit into Jungkook’s arms.

Jungkook hesitates, still overwhelmed by how much thought Yoongi has put into this. “Isn’t this… a bit too much for a tea... party?”

“Not for this one.” Yoongi says matter-of-factly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Trust me, this is how you blend in while still making a statement.. you're gonna thank me for this.”

A few minutes later, Jungkook emerges from the dressing area, and Yoongi’s face lights up in approval, completely satisfied with his work.

The prussian blue coat fits Jungkook perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders, while the silky light blue shirt adds a sophisticated edge. The trousers and polished loafers complete the look, and the diamond brooch glimmers subtly, tying everything together seamlessly. (jungkook's full outfit if u want to visualize it)

Yoongi whistles low, nodding. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You look insanely good.” he claps. Jungkook glances at himself in the mirror, stunned by the transformation. “I look… fancy.” he mutters, running a hand down the soft fabric of the coat.

Yoongi smirks. “You look expensive. And that’s exactly the point.”

As the clock strikes 5, Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a message from you. It’s the address of the place he’s supposed to go. The pit in his stomach deepens as he reads it... nerves gnawing at him now that the event feels real and imminent.

He stands in Yoongi’s room, fidgeting with the cuffs of the silky dress shirt he's wearing, while Yoongi carefully styles his hair. After a few minutes of fussing, Yoongi steps back, his expression satisfied. “There.... perfect.” he quips with a smirk.

Jungkook sighs, taking in his reflection. He looks different... polished, refined, like someone who owns a portfolio full of stocks and leaves enormous tips at fancy restaurants without a second thought. He tilts his head, still processing the transformation.

“Let’s head out?” Yoongi suggests, and though still hesitant, Jungkook nods, grabbing his phone and wallet before following Yoongi downstairs.

When they step outside, the familiar luxury of Yoongi's estate greets him and he instantly notices that this time, Yoongi has opted for a different car... a sleek, deep-red Ferrari Roma. The polished exterior gleams under the fading daylight, and Jungkook can’t help but gawk. "This car looks like it belongs in a museum." he mutters, still trying to process Yoongi’s absurdly lavish lifestyle.

The same guard from earlier appears, carrying Jungkook’s luggage, which he efficiently loads into the the car's surprisingly spacious trunk. Yoongi slides into the driver’s seat, revving the engine, and the low, throaty hum fills the air.

Jungkook gets into the passenger seat, muttering under his breath, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

Yoongi chuckles as he adjusts the rearview mirror. “You’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Yoongi, for giving me a taste of luxury.’” he jokes.

The ride to the address you’ve shared isn’t long, but with each passing kilometer, Jungkook grows more apprehensive. The city’s bustling streets fade away, replaced by quieter, tree-lined roads. And as the sun finally sets, the atmosphere feels secluded and serene, the kind of area reserved for only the wealthiest of the wealthy.

By the time they approach the destination, it’s almost completely dark, and the surroundings are cloaked in shadow. Eventually, the headlights illuminate a massive iron gate adorned with intricate designs, the kind that looks custom-made and costs more than an average car.

Tall stone pillars flank the gate, with elegant golden lettering engraved on plaques— 'The Kims' etched prominently.

The GPS pings, signaling they’ve arrived. Before Jungkook can say a word, the gates swing open automatically, revealing a long, winding driveway lined with towering, perfectly trimmed trees. A soft glow from decorative lanterns illuminates the path, casting an ethereal ambiance over the grounds.

“Is this a driveway or a runway?” Jungkook mutters as the car rolls forward. The sheer length of the driveway seems surreal and it takes them almost five minutes to reach the end.

When they finally arrive, Yoongi slams on the brakes, his jaw dropping. “Holy fuck…” he breathes, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His voice is barely above a whisper as he asks, “Are you seeing this?”

Jungkook stares, utterly gobsmacked. Before them stands an enormous mansion, more like a palace than a home. The architecture is a seamless blend of modern elegance and classic grandeur.

A sprawling facade of pristine white marble reflects the soft golden lights strategically placed along the perimeter. Massive glass windows stretch across the mansion, framed by intricate black ironwork.

A fountain stands proudly in the center of the circular driveway, water cascading gracefully in the glow of ambient lights. The front doors are enormous, crafted from dark wood and adorned with golden handles that look like they belong in a royal palace.

Behind the mansion, faint silhouettes of sprawling gardens and additional wings of the estate hint at just how vast this property is. Jungkook feels like he’s stepped into a movie. His voice is barely audible as he murmurs. “This… This is where Y/N lives?”

“Dude...” Yoongi says, still staring at the mansion. “I told you my place would be nothing compared to this.”

As Yoongi is still marveling at the house, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he’s afraid to blink and miss something, Jungkook’s gaze drifts beyond the car's window.

Near the expansive lawn and the grand entrance of the mansion, groups of people mingle, their laughter and chatter carried on the soft evening breeze. It’s all so overwhelming, but then his eyes land on you, and suddenly, the world seems to still.

You’re standing by the grand double doors, chatting with two women who appear equally elegant. But his focus is entirely on you. You’re dressed in a stunning emerald green gown that hugs your figure just right.

The strapless design accentuates your shoulders and collarbones, and the gown flows down in soft, silky waves, brushing against the floor with every slight movement. A string of delicate pearls adorns your chest, their soft sheen catching the light with each turn of your head.

Your hair is styled in a way that frames your face beautifully, soft tendrils brushing against your cheeks. The golden glow of the mansion’s lights reflects in your eyes, making them look like the night sky dotted with stars.

You smile at something one of the girls says, and that smile... it’s the kind that makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat, the kind that could light up even the darkest of nights.

As he sits there in Yoongi’s car, rooted to his seat, he can’t help but take in your beauty. The way you carry yourself with such grace and confidence, as though you were born to belong in a setting as grand as this. Jungkook feels his throat tighten. How? How on earth had someone like him... ordinary, flawed, and a complete mess half the time, ever managed to end up with someone like you?

You’re perfect, he thinks, in every sense of the word. From the sparkle in your eyes to the way your laughter carries, soft and melodic, across the air. He feels a pang of disbelief, as though at any moment someone might tap him on the shoulder and tell him it’s all been a dream.

His hand clenches slightly against his knee as he leans back into the seat, still staring at you, unable to look away.

And like magic, your eyes meet his from across the expanse. It’s as though the crowd and the grandeur of the mansion fade into nothing, leaving just the two of you in your own world.

Your expression instantly lights up, a radiant smile spreading across your face. You excuse yourself from the two women without the slightest bit of hesitation, your steps purposeful as you make your way towards the car parked by the grand fountain.

“Oh my god, she’s coming… she’s coming here.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, panic and exhilaration twisting together in his chest. His words snap Yoongi out of his trance, but before Yoongi can even react, Jungkook is already out of the car.

“Baby... you made it.... Hi.” you say, your voice sweet and filled with warmth as you approach him. Without a second thought, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. The faint scent of your perfume envelops him, soft and comforting, and for a moment, he’s too stunned to move.

Just seconds ago, Jungkook’s mind had been a mixture of nerves and doubts, the unfamiliar surroundings and the weight of everything he’d learned earlier still pressing on him. But now, as he feels your arms around him and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest, all of that melts away.

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. In your embrace, the humoungous mansion, the status of those around him, and the intimidating luxury that surrounded him, no longer mattered. None of it.

Right here, right now, he feels safe. He feels like he belongs... not with the wealth, not with the prestige, but with you. It’s in the way your presence calms his racing heart, in the way your touch grounds him. With you, it feels like home.

And in that moment, he knows. No matter how out of place he might feel in this world of opulence, as long as he has you, he’ll always belong.

“Ahem.” Yoongi clears his throat, a playful glint in his eyes as he watches the two of you pull away from the hug. He stands by the side of the car, arms casually crossed, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. His gaze flicks between you and Jungkook, his eyebrows wiggling as if to silently ask... Are you going to introduce me, or what?

Jungkook’s eyes travel to Yoongi, and the subtle shift in his expression tells Yoongi that he’s caught on to the unspoken request. He gives a small, sheepish chuckle, the tension that had lingered before, now dissipating.

“Babe, this is Yoongi.” he says, his voice soft but genuine as he reaches out to encircle your waist again, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your back. He turns his head to Yoongi with a grin. “And Yoongi… this is Y/n.”

You look at Yoongi, a warm and open smile immediately spreading across your face. You’ve only heard bits and pieces of stories about him from Jungkook, but you already have a good sense of his nature. “Yoongi, hi!” you greet him, your voice bubbling with kindness.

“Thank you so much for bringing him. I'm a little mad at you for stealing him away from me on his very first day here...” you tease, your eyes sparkling as you glance up at Jungkook. “But I still get it. I guess I’ll forgive you... only this time, though.”

Yoongi chuckles, genuinely amused by your playfulness. He raises his arms, giving a mock bow, and offers a teasing apology. “I apologize. But thank you for letting him come meet me. It was really nice catching up after all these years." he sincerely says.

You smile at the sentiment, inching closer to Jungkook as you move past the brief formality. The three of you stand for a moment, the evening breeze and the sound of the water splashing in the fountain, wrapping around you.

The conversation feels comfortable, like a warm, shared space where everyone is still figuring each other out but already enjoying the connections being made.

Then, with a sudden idea that seems to come naturally to you, you look up at Yoongi with a soft but insistent smile. “Why don’t you join us tonight? It’ll be fun.” you suggest, your tone light but sincere.

Yoongi looks like he’s about to refuse, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he opens his mouth to protest. “Oh, my god, no. It’s alright, really-”

You cut him off gently, your voice light with the promise of something easy and enjoyable. “Oh, come on. It’ll be amazing. Besides you're already here and I would feel like a horrible person if I just sent you away without an invitation. Plus, I'm pretty sure you'll find some you know in there.. so please, do come.”

Yoongi hesitates again, the pull of his curiosity and the warmth of your invitation winning him over. But deep down, he knows he’d be stupid to refuse. Why the hell wouldn’t he want to spend his evening at the Kim estate, soaking in the luxury and splendor?

“Well... if you insist…” Yoongi begins, finally giving in with a playful smirk. “I’d be honored to stay.”

Jungkook watches the exchange with a soft grin on his lips, his heart swelling with a quiet affection for you. In moments like these, it’s impossible not to marvel at how effortlessly you make everyone feel at ease.

Your ability to connect with anyone, to put people at ease with your calm demeanor and genuine interest, is one of the things he admires the most about you.

As the three of you enter the mansion, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widen at the sheer gloriousness of the place. The space is expansive, and the walls are adorned with elegant artwork, framed portraits, and intricate carvings that speak of a long history of wealth and taste.

The air smells faintly of fresh flowers and something warm, like vanilla, and the soft lighting gives the house an intimate yet sophisticated feel. He can’t help but be in awe, his footsteps slowing as he takes in the magnificent surroundings. From the grand chandeliers overhead to the tastefully arranged furniture, every corner is meticulously curated.

Suddenly, Yoongi is distracted by a familiar face in the crowd... a friend of his, evidently, who bumps into him as they walk into the entryway. "Yooooo...Yoongi, What are you doing here, dude?" the man beams, instantly dapping him up.

Yoongi’s expression shifts from casual to excited as he greets the man, and soon enough, they’re deep in conversation, his attention completely absorbed by the exchange.

Seizing the moment, you lean over to Jungkook and softly whisper. “Come on, let's leave Yoongi to catch up with his friend." you simply say.

Without giving him an opportunity to agree or protest, you take Jungkook’s hand and lead him up the grand staircase, the polished wooden steps creaking slightly beneath your heels.

The second floor seems even quieter than the first, with only the distant murmur of conversation from the living room and the lawn below. The hallway is empty, the walls lined with family portraits and antique furniture that speaks of both elegance and history.

As you walk down the long corridor, Jungkook follows quietly, his hand wrapped around yours, the warmth of your touch grounding him.

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch his gaze and flash him a playful, flirty smile. Then, with effortless grace, you turn to face him, continuing to walk backwards, your eyes never leaving his, a teasing glint dancing in them.

A comfortable silence settles between you two as your eyes take him in. He looks undeniably charming. The way the outfit fits him, accentuating his sharp features, makes your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect.

Even though you’ve only been apart for a few hours, you’ve missed him deeply. Unable to find the right words, you let your gaze speak for you, your eyes lingering on him with warmth and admiration, as if memorizing every detail.

“Did I tell you how fucking gorgeous you look tonight?” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the stillness, and you can't help but giggle at the awe in his expression.

His eyes glint with admiration, the kind of look that makes your heart flutter in your chest. He’s not hiding his feelings, and it’s evident from the way he glances at you, his gaze tracing your figure as if trying to etch every detail into his mind.

You feel a spark ignite inside you at his words, but you manage a smile, keeping your composure as you look at him. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” you tease, your steps slowing as he steps closer, releasing your fingers from his hold as he places his hands on your waist, halting you in your tracks.

The corridor feels quieter now, the faint hum of distant chatter fading into the background as his presence fills the space. He pulls you closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “I missed you.” he murmurs, his voice low and earnest, his gaze flickering to your lips. And as though it’s second nature, he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss.

A smile curls on your lips as you kiss him back, the warmth of the moment sending a flurry of butterflies through you. You can’t understand how he always manages to have this effect on you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“I missed you too.” you whisper as he pulls away, your eyes catching the faint shimmer of your lip gloss now smudged on his lips.

Despite the intimate moment you’ve just shared, you can’t help but laugh softly. He tilts his head in slight confusion, his brow arching adorably. Without saying a word, you take his hand again, leading him forward down the corridor.

“Come on, I want to show you my room.” you say, your voice light and eager as you guide him further into the corridor.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in eagerness as you lead him further down the corridor, past several closed doors. The silence around you both feels almost comforting, as if this is a moment just for the two of you... away from the grandiose of the house and the people downstairs. You’re aware of the weight of the space around you, but in this moment, you’re only aware of him.

“I’ve lived in this house ever since I was a baby...” you continue, your voice quiet but soft, allowing a sense of nostalgia to seep in. “After moving out to New York, the one thing I missed the most was my room.” You look up at him, your smile deepening. “So... I really just... wanted to show it to you.”

Jungkook seems struck by your words, his curiosity piqued, but you don’t elaborate further. You can tell he’s fascinated by the house... he’s seen enough of it already to know it’s not just a regular mansion, but you’re careful not to make him feel overwhelmed.

You don’t want him to think you’re bragging or showing off, not when it comes to your family’s history or the house that’s been passed down for generations. It’s always been a part of you, but you’ve always hated the idea of people seeing you through the lens of privilege.

You’ve never been the type to flaunt it, but the quiet discomfort always lingers. The fear that people will think you’re trying to distance yourself from others or act like you’re somehow above them. It’s why you’ve never told Jungkook much about your background, not in the way some people might expect. You didn’t want him to misunderstand.

As you round a corner and approach your door, Jungkook glances at you, sensing that there’s something more beneath the surface of your words. He opens his mouth to ask, but you cut him off gently with a soft smile, knowing he’ll get to know everything in time.

For now, all that matters is this moment, and as you unlock the door to your room, you can’t help but feel an odd sense of calm. You’ve never shared this part of yourself with anyone before... not like this. But with him, it feels like you’re finally letting him see all of you.

As you switch the lights on, a soft glow fills the room, instantly giving it a warm, inviting ambiance. Jungkook takes a step inside, his gaze sweeping over the delicate details that make up the space. The walls are painted in a blush pink hue, accentuated by crown molding in a creamy white tone.

The furniture matches the aesthetic, with an elegant white queen sized bed and a quilted headboard adorned with tiny, pearl-like studs.

There’s a fluffy cream rug sprawled across the polished wooden floor, and a cozy armchair tucked into the corner beside a tall bookshelf that’s overflowing with colorful novels, fashion magazines and trinkets.

The vanity table by the window catches his attention, its surface sprinkled with makeup items, a small vase of fresh flowers, and neatly arranged bottles of perfume. Above it, a mirror framed with soft golden lights reflects the subtle shimmer of the space.

The walls are brought to life with framed posters of iconic bands and celebrities, each placed thoughtfully, as though telling a story. A string of Polaroid pictures hangs on the wall near the bed, giving the room a personal, nostalgic touch.

He notices little figurines of 'Hello Kitty' on a floating shelf and a small collection of plush toys sitting in a basket near the window seat. The room feels youthful and dreamy, like stepping into a snapshot of your childhood.

Jungkook takes it all in, pausing as his eyes land on the posters and the subtle quirks that reveal glimpses of your younger self. He can’t help but imagine you here as a teenager... probably sprawled out on the bed, reading or listening to music, daydreaming about the future. The thought makes him smile, a warm fondness settling in his chest.

His thoughts are interrupted as you walk over to the vanity and pick up a picture frame, holding it up with a soft smile. “That’s me...” you say, pointing to a baby in the photo. Jungkook steps closer, curious, and his eyes fall on a little version of you, chubby-cheeked and wide-eyed. “And that... is Tae.” you continue, pointing to a young toddler that's securely holding you in his tiny arms.

Jungkook chuckles softly, leaning in to get a better look. “You still look the same.” he chuckles, his gaze shifting between the picture and you. "And Taehyung looks like he’s already ready to fight anyone who gets near you." he adds.

You laugh, gently setting the frame back down. You glance at the photo one last time, feeling a small tug of nostalgia before turning to Jungkook, who’s still looking around, clearly charmed by this intimate glimpse into your past.

"Your room is beautiful." he finally says, his voice soft with admiration as his gaze takes in the delicate details surrounding him. He can't believe he's being shown this deeply personal part of your life, and it makes him feel incredibly special.

You step forward, wrapping your arms around his neck with a tender smile. "Thank you, baby. I'm so glad I could show it to you." you say, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Just as the moment seems perfect, your expression shifts like you've suddenly remembered something crucial. "Oh my god! wait... no way... I totally forgot!!" you exclaim, breaking away from him.

Jungkook is bewildered for what feels like the hundredth time today as you grab his hand and practically drag him out of the room and down the long corridor. He's still trying to process what’s happening when you lead him back downstairs. His eyes dart around, noticing the guests still lost in their conversations, oblivious to the two of you passing by.

"I told my mom I'd introduce you to her the minute you'd arrive but… I totally forgot!" you admit hurriedly, your voice tinged with a mix of excitement and guilt as you weave through the crowd.

The words hit Jungkook like a bolt of lightning, and his eyes widen in panic. Your mom? He was going to meet your mom? Right now? No warning, no preparation? He feels a surge of anxiety bubbling up in his chest.

"Wait... wait!" he halts abruptly, tugging your hand so you’re forced to turn around and look at him in confusion. "Babe, a warning would have been nice. I need to prepare myself for this moment... this is your mom we're talking about." he breathes out, clutching his chest dramatically.

You chuckle, brushing off his concerns with ease. "Oh, come on, Kook. She's just my mom. You'll be fine, I promise." you assure, gently tugging his hand again, urging him to follow you.

Reluctantly, Jungkook lets himself be led through a side door and into what appears to be the kitchen. As soon as he steps inside, he’s overwhelmed by the bustling atmosphere. The space is alive with activity... chefs moving in synchrony, slicing, plating, and perfecting dishes with meticulous attention to the tiniest details.

The scent of freshly baked bread mingles with the aroma of roasted meat and delicate spices, creating a sensory overload.

Jungkook’s gaze darts from one end of the kitchen to the other, trying to absorb everything at once. A massive spread of colorful dishes is being prepared on a long marble countertop, and he doesn’t even know where to focus. For a moment, he forgets his nerves as he marvels at the organized chaos around him.

"Stay with me." you murmur, squeezing his hand reassuringly. But Jungkook can’t help but think about how this might be the most intimidating moment of his life... meeting your mom in the middle of what feels like a five-star culinary operation.

You glance around the bustling kitchen, scanning the scene for your mom. It doesn’t take long before you spot her back as she leans slightly towards one of the chefs, gesturing animatedly while the chef nods thoughtfully, hanging on her every word.

There’s a commanding yet sophisticated presence about her, and the sight makes a smile creep onto your lips. Without hesitation, you tug Jungkook along, your excitement bubbling over. “Mama!!” you call out, your voice cutting through the hum of the kitchen.

At first, she doesn’t respond, too engrossed in giving precise instructions about something to the chef. You don’t mind, though because you know how focused she can get when she’s in her element.

As you approach her, you release Jungkook’s hand, letting him stand beside you as he instinctively straightens his coat, smoothing the fabric nervously.

Now only a few steps away, you finally stop, waiting patiently for her to finish her instructions. Jungkook stands a little stiffly next to you, his hands clasped in front of him as he watches the exchange, silently psyching himself up for what’s coming next.

Once she finishes instructing the chef, she finally turns around, her soft features lighting up with a smile when her eyes land on you. “Y/N.” she says warmly, acknowledging you.

Her appearance is effortlessly chic, exuding an aura of power and sophistication. Dressed in a sleek, wine colored dress paired with a delicate pearl necklace and stud earrings, she looks into your eyes.

Her posture is immaculate, shoulders back, chin high, and she carries herself with an air of unshakable authority. Her eyes... sharp and piercing, hold a fierceness that can make anyone squirm under her gaze.

She’s never been the one to smile easily, and even now, her expression holds a seriousness that makes Jungkook feel like he’s being sized up before he’s even said a word.

But when her eyes shift to Jungkook, her demeanor subtly changes. The faint smile that played on her lips moments ago falters, replaced by a look of mild disapproval.

One of her eyebrows arches as she takes in the man standing beside you, and Jungkook immediately feels the weight of her scrutiny. It’s clear from the way her gaze lingers that she’s not the least bit pleased to meet him.

“Mama, this is Jungkook.” you begin sweetly, your voice light and cheerful, as if trying to bridge the gap of tension. “I told you I was bringing him.” You smile at her, radiating warmth, but it’s met with a polite but distant smile from her, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Jungkook isn’t blind to it, he can see the coldness lurking behind her expression.

“Hello.” she finally says, her tone neutral, devoid of warmth. Her words are carefully measured, making Jungkook feel like she’s already testing him.

He feels his heart rate spike, but he doesn’t let it show. With a deep breath, he bows at a perfect right angle, his voice steady as he speaks. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Jeon Jungkook.” He straightens up, his posture confident despite the nervous energy coursing through him.

He meets her fierce gaze head-on, determined to make a good impression, though her icy stare makes him feel like he’s being dissected.

You glance at Jungkook, noticing his effort, and squeeze his hand briefly before stepping closer to your mother, hoping to ease the tension.

She nods curtly as Jungkook introduces himself, her sharp eyes trailing over him from head to toe, as though she’s analyzing every detail.

"So, you're from New York?" she asks suddenly, her voice carrying an edge that makes Jungkook straighten his posture. The question catches him slightly off guard, but he quickly nods in acknowledgment.

"Yes, ma’am." he answers politely, his voice steady.

Your mother narrows her eyes slightly, a calculating look flashing across her face. "I'm sure you've noticed how different things are around here... in Korea." she says, her tone almost conversational, though there's an unmistakable undercurrent of something more. "Very different from your... western culture." she adds, the words laced with what feels like a taunt.

You shift uncomfortably, sensing the rising tension. Jungkook hesitates, unsure of how to respond, and you decide to step in. "Mama, he lived in Korea before he moved to New York..." you explain gently, trying to diffuse the situation. "I'm sure he knows how things are around here."

But your mother doesn't acknowledge your reassurance. Her piercing gaze stays fixed on Jungkook. "Your parents?" she asks next, one eyebrow raised, her expression unyielding.

Jungkook’s throat tightens as he answers, his tone polite but guarded. "My mom... she owns a café in New York." he replies, hoping to keep the answer straightforward.

Your mother’s expression barely changes, but Jungkook notices the faintest flicker of disapproval in her eyes. It’s subtle, but it cuts deep. "Ah... so it's only your mother, then?" she probes further, her voice calm but pointed.

You feel your stomach drop at her words, the implicit judgment in her tone impossible to miss. Your protective instincts kick in immediately, and before she can say anything more, you interject.

"Okay, Mama, that's enough interrogation for now..." you say, your voice cheerful but firm as you grab Jungkook’s hand. "We need to get going. Grandma is going to be here any minute now... and the party is going to start soon." you add.

Jungkook notices the way her eyes flick down to your intertwined hands, and her jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. She doesn’t say anything, though, merely nodding stiffly as she steps back.

Before the situation can escalate further, you tug Jungkook out of the kitchen and into the hallway. As soon as you’re out of your mother's sight, you stop and turn to him, your expression apologetic.

"I am so so so sorry for that." you say quickly, your eyes scanning his face. You can see how pale he looks, the color drained from his cheeks. The conversation clearly rattled him, and it breaks your heart.

"I don’t know why she was acting like that." you continue, your voice softening as you place a comforting hand on his cheek. "I’m really sorry, baby. That wasn’t fair to you."

Jungkook exhales slowly, feeling the warmth of your palm against his skin. He hates how unsettled he feels, the subtle but unmistakable judgment in your mother’s eyes still gnawing at him.

He’s not naive, he knows exactly what her words and looks implied. But he doesn’t want to burden you with his feelings, so he forces a small smile and shrugs.

"Please... don’t apologize." he says gently, his voice calm but distant. "She’s your mother. I get why she’d question me like that... I’m dating her daughter, after all." he reasons.

His attempt to brush it off doesn’t fool you, but you decide not to push him. Instead, you give his cheek a small caress, hoping to soothe him.

Sensing the heaviness lingering between you, Jungkook shifts the conversation. "Anyways... don’t we have a tea party to get to?" he asks with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood despite the war in his mind.

You know he’s deflecting, choosing not to dwell on the interaction with your mother. So you let him, offering him a gentle smile in return. "We do." you reply softly, squeezing his hand. "Come on, let’s go."

As Jungkook trails behind you, the weight in his chest feels almost suffocating, each step amplifying the unease swirling in his mind.

Three weeks... that’s how long he’s going to be here for. The thought echoes in his head, heavier with every repetition.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to endure it, not when your mother’s piercing gaze feels like it sees right through him, layered with unspoken judgments that cut deeper than words ever could.

The very idea looms ahead, an uphill battle he isn’t sure he’s equipped to fight, yet one he knows he cannot avoid.

<- part 1 // part3 ->

taglist: @mirinaeii @taetaecatboy (lmk if u want to be added <3)

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction #crazy rich asians

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kararisa · 1 year ago

Text

darling, starling ✧

pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader

genre: social media au, modern/celebrity au, friends to lovers, fake dating

summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?

side ships: venti x xiao; thoma x ayato

warnings: swearing, crack, slight angst (?), alcohol consumption, yn wears makeup sometimes, depictions of online hate; specific chapter warnings will be listed at the beginning of each chapter — will be updated as the series continues

status: ongoing

author's notes:

did some minor reworking so if you've seen this for the second time, you're not hallucinating dw

yes this is my second smau. yes I still don't know what I'm doing haha. timestamps don't matter unless I say they do

apologies in advance if i miss any grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language ^^

written chapters are marked with (★)

pre-concert party !!

0.1 - lost hearts • 0.2 - welcome back, shithead

profiles:

clown central™ ([name]'s friends)

the waffle house (scara's friends)

1st verse — for future reference || playlist

1 - is this real? • 2 - enjoying yourself: a guide

3 - bitchless since birth • 4 - attention

5 - unwritten rules (★) • 6 - we're doing couple things

7 - safe with my indifference • 8 - when's the wedding

9 - iridescence (★) • 10 - worst date ever

11 - then beg • 12 - a little bit scandalous (★)

13 - not too late • 14 - only here for you

15 - i can fight • 16 - wine-stained lips (★)

2nd verse — where words fail, music speaks || playlist

17 - it's so joever • 18 - famefucker

19 - i miss my parents • 20 - none of your business

21 - child of divorce • 22 - don't text and drive

23 - neon escape (★) • 24 - this can't be real

25 - zenith • 26 - home (★)

27 - through it all (★) • bonus - promise

tba

3rd verse — hate to be lame || playlist

tba

encore !!

tba

— the taglist is currently CLOSED!

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Text

♟️ Please, Let Me Know That It's Real ♟️

Chapter 10 of That's What You Get

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Emily and Penelope take care of you after Spencer's dishonesty comes to light. They help you fill in some missing pieces of the puzzle that is your relationship.

Warnings: angst, but hopeful angst. Spencer is an idiot. No, you don't find out who the other witness is yet.

A/N: We're so close to the end 😭 I'm feeling bittersweet about this one because I'm excited to wrap it up but I also don't want to!!! It's been so fun to write. There are two chapters left after this, so please stay tuned for those ♥️ You can find my main masterlist here, and my special kinktober masterlist here if you missed the smut in this one. My requests are open until the end of the month too, so of you had any ideas, let me know!

There were no words to describe how you felt wasting away in bed that next day. You couldn't say whether a minute passed, or an hour passed or if time had simply ceased when he'd left. You just knew that there was a weight pressing down into your heart, a grief filling your lungs and stuttering your breath.

You had the vague sensation of someone entering your apartment, wrapping their arms around you and telling you that you'd be okay before you drifted off into a coma-like sleep. Instead of escaping everything, though, you had to relive it all, again and again.

You'd woken up chained to that bed again and he was there telling you how guilty and horrible he felt, and you'd practically shoved the words into his mouth. But he hadn't told you he didn't remember.

You'd woken up in his bed again, and he still wasn't there, trying to avoid you getting your memories back, the one thing you were trying to work towards together.

You'd woken up in his arms, walking you back towards his bed as you were telling him you remembered. The gleam in his eyes though wasn't excitement, happy to receive any news about what could've happened before, but fear. What did you remember, and would you figure out he'd been lying?

You'd woken up a mess, and you wanted to go right back to sleep.

When you finally did come to, the tears that had dried against your skin began to Spring again, the sobs silently wrecking your body as you disappeared under the darkness of your comforter.

Spencer had known. He'd known the entire time about everything that had happened, he'd practically told you as much from the very beginning. But he'd also let you assume that he didn't, and you weren't sure if you were angrier at him or yourself. Something happened on your wedding night, beside the intimacy, that he obviously didn't want you to remember, having gone to such great lengths to hold you at an arm's distance away whilst embracing you tightly. Parts of your body still held traces of him, and you were too emotionally exhausted to drag yourself out of bed to wash him away.

You wanted to call him. You wanted to make him come back and explain, and beg for forgiveness, or tell you it had been some kind of horrific miscommunication. You wanted to never see him again.

Penelope bought food, and Emily got you cleaned up, pulling you into the bathroom and wiping the tears from your face as she ran a bath for you, helping your shivering form into it. You hadn't called or texted either of them, but you didn't question their appearance until after you'd eaten, feeling a little less broken.

"How did you know?" The two of them looked at each other over the food on the table, unable to hide the worrying glances they were sending each other.

"Spencer. He texted me, asked me to check in on you." Penelope explained, and you're heart cracked hearing his name.

"Of course he did." You hated that even when you were supposed to hate him, he was still intent on taking care of you. You'd excused yourself from their company and climbed back into bed, grateful that neither woman had tried to stop you. They did follow you though.

"Wait, Y/N. Spencer told us you needed us, but he didn't tell us what happened. Maybe talking about it would help." They sat carefully on opposite edges of your bed, waiting for you to un-cocoon yourself and talk.

The first few attempts, you couldn't make it, too close to shattering to pieces again. With a gentle squeeze of your hand and a encouraging nod, you started telling them about the night before.

"I chased after him yesterday and I caught him in the parking lot. And he never takes his car, but he was there and I thought it was some kind of sign." You sniffled and pulled the quilt off your face some more, sitting up to continue what you knew would probably be a long story.

"We finally acknowledged everything and… God, I think I told him I love him. I do, and that's why it's all so shitty and ruined." Your throat grew thick with the pain and fluttering, memories from the night before seeping into you and grabbing a hold.

"I told him I remembered, finally. He asked me how much, and I just kept trying to flirt with him. I didn't realize anything was wrong until after we'd…" You flushed, shy all of a sudden as you felt all the shame of the previous night's interactions.

"He said some things in the heat of the moment… he said I felt better than he remembered."

"Y/N, that doesn't sound so bad, that's just-"

"He wasn't supposed to remember. Neither of us were supposed to remember, fuck I think we would've been happier if we hadn't." You shut your eyes, the lights suddenly sparking a pain behind your eyes as your tears stung.

"He didn't forget anything about Vegas. I think maybe it's my fault for assuming he did, because he just went ahead and reminded me of his stupid fucking eidetic memory."

You let your head fall back to the pillow again and curse yourself, the extended cut of the last three weeks flickering to life in your head again.

"Y/N…" Penelope started taking a gentle hand and patting your head as she struggled to find the words to comfort you.

"Y/N, this is not the end of the world." Emily was blunt in her words and for a second they snapped you out of your self imposed pity party. "I thought he'd rejected you, or served you divorce papers or something."

The anger crept up in you quickly as you shut your ears to what Emily was saying.

"God, Emily, it's not that fucking easy you know.

"How would you know? Did you try to listen to him? Ask him why he did it?" You snapped your mouth shut, still angry but momentarily softened to the words she was saying.

"Look, it's not like he confessed his love for me. He fucked me and then I caught him in a lie." You were exasperated at having to explain your emotions again and again but this time the wound had been ripped raw. He hadn't said those last words.

"Oh, sweetie. That's what this is all about, isn't it? You think he held back because he doesn't love you?" Emily's tone had softened completely and you found yourself suddenly shaking with tears, unable to answer, just nodding your head back and forth while you contained the loud echoes of pain from escaping your body.

"I need to stop starting sentences with 'don't hate me, but', but this time I think it's absolutely necessary." Penelope squeaked the other words from your other side and you drew yourself up again to hear her out.

"Penelope, you're here making sure I am still breathing while I'm in the middle of an entirely selfish crisis. I think if I even thought about you negatively, a puppy would die or something."

"Save that bravado for after this." She pulled out her phone then and scrolled through it for a second, searching for something. "Now I need you to know that I only withheld this in the hopes that I could play it at your actual wedding, where I would obviously be maid-of-honour, but as that plan has backfired I think I need to show you it now."

She handed you the phone, and you noticed a video was playing. The camera was shaky, so it took you a few minutes to figure out what it was you were looking at.

The Elvis impersonator was the thing that tipped you off to the fact that this was probably your wedding venue. Sure enough, when the camera focused, zoomed in a bit, there the two of you were.

"We're going to do the ring exchange now, if you'd like to repeat after me-" discount, slightly rotund Elvis said in a horrendous accent, but he wasn't allowed to finish.

"We can do our own vows, right? That's allowed?"

"For the amount of money you're paying me, you could consummate the marriage right here and I wouldn't give a damn." Your past self in the video had flushed at that, and you were glad that you hadn't jumped at the chance the way you had in the hotel room.

Spencer brushed it off, clearing his throat and starting again. “Y/N, I don’t remember when I started loving you, which is absolutely ironic because I remember everything else. I think I just woke up one day and knew that I’d either spend my life watching you, or take this final leap to have you. Don’t look at me like that, I’m being serious, we’re getting married.”

Your grin was wide, genuine happiness setting you alight. The two of you giggled a little bit before a glare from Elvis's direction led you to believe that his generosity only extended so far.

“Let me try again. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too good for me. And I love you so much it aches. Everytime you say anything I’m caught hanging on any word. Every time you mention a book you’ve enjoyed, I read it cover to cover 50 times that week. Every time you tell me something stupid, like what your favorite flower is, I get this overwhelming urge to… to buy myself some flowers, so that if you ever turned up at my house, they’d be there waiting for you.”

“I don’t know if you’ll remember this in the morning, or if I’ll be too scared to remind you, but I love you Y/N. And I’ll keep loving you no matter what happens.” His hands were gripped so tightly around your waist that he'd had to whisper some of the last words into the air between you, the space suddenly so narrow.

You stopped the video there, throwing the phone back at Penelope, ready to bask in your idiocy, but she didn't let you.

"You need to watch it all, come on, mother knows best." You rolled your eyes at her and sat yourself straighter again, taking the phone from her again and pressing play as Emily looked over your shoulder, watching too.

It was your turn for the vows.

“Spencer Reid. If I don’t remember how much I love you now in the morning, if I somehow manage to ignore this absolute feeling of bliss and rightness, I need you to fight for me. I need you to remind me how much I love you. I need you to remind me how we ended up here. I need you. I’ll never stop needing you.” The video had ended seconds after that, Spencer having lunged for you with both hands pulling your lips into his as he sealed the deal with a kiss. One you could swear you still felt tingling against your lips.

"I paused it there because I didn't want to see if you'd take Elvis up on his deal." You heard Penelope's words but didn't register them, not really.

"He didn't… He didn't fight for me." Your words weren't sad, but they obviously weren't the words either woman was expecting.

"Y/N, did you not hear him? He loves you!" Emily almost shook you to wake you up from whatever daze you were in, but you were throwing your sheets off in a second and scrambling out of bed.

"He didn't even tell me. Oh my god… I'm going to…" You ran a stray hand through your hair as you let out an incredulous laugh, not believing any of the last twenty four hours. Your next move was to lunge for your own phone, dialing his number before you could be stopped. Penelope did try though, before Emily out a warning hand on her shoulder, interested to see where it was you were going with this.

"Spencer," you said into the receiver when he finally picked up. A single ring and he was there like he'd been waiting for you this entire time.

"Y/N, I love you, I'm sorry." The words caught in his throat and his voice was weak but they made your heart skip a beat nonetheless. You hoped none of that reflected in your voice at all.

"Spencer, I want to see you. Now." He barely had time to agree before you were hanging up, turning around with a half manic laugh again as you begin pulling yourself together.

"Emily, Pen, thank you for everything but-"

"You don't have to explain, I think we were just leaving actually." Emily smiled up at you, confident that you knew what you were doing.

"No, no wait, please explain! I need an explanation, Y/N, what-"

"If you'll excuse us." Emily guided Penelope swiftly out of the door and you were suddenly once again alone in your apartment.

Pulling yourself together. You'd had a bath but you still felt groggy, so you hopped in the shower and thought about the time Spencer had taken a bullet for you. It had really only grazed his vest, but he'd been the one to grab you and change your positions so you were safe nonetheless. He'd done it and you'd never been sure why.

You sat and dried your hair and contemplated. He'd helped you with countless case files ove the years. The others had joked before by putting their work on his desk, knowing he'd have it completed for them, serious or not. He'd only ever voluntarily taken files from your desk though. He'd said it was because he could do them quicker, but that was always a none answer.

You picked your outfit out carefully as you thought about all the times you'd woken up with a blanket covering you after a nap on the jet. You'd seen JJ wrap them around team members before and just assumed it had been her, but now you weren't so sure.

You stood at the door looking down at a message that said he was almost here and you thought about the last few weeks. And you thought about how much he loved you, and how much you definitely loved him and you waited at the door, engagement ring sitting on your hand as you waited for him to knock.

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #reiderreplies #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid series #series: that's what you get

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jamespotterismydaddy · 11 months ago

Text

Lord Husband (Chapter 9)

cregan stark x reader

A/N: this is the chapter that i have been looking most forward to writing. I have thought about it again and again. I'm sorry if the major angst wasn't what you were expecting but i added an extra paragraph at the end so it isnt too traumatic <3

Series Masterlist

WARNINGS: smut (not the fun kind), forced marital consummation for them both...

WORD COUNT: 1,334 words

You look so small in his arms as he carries you to the bedchamber, like a delicate flower that will fall apart if he holds you too tightly. No words are shared between your husband and yourself during the walk; an air of uncomfortable tension surrounds the two of you. Even when you enter the room and he places you down ever so gently, there are no words for a few moments.

“Perhaps you would like some water? Or some time to allow the effects of the alcohol to fade?” You’re drunk. He knows it. You know it. You’re swaying occasionally as he speaks.

“I would rather not.” You breathe out. The drunkenness is intentional. You don’t want to remember this night if you need not to.

“Are you quite sure? I think it would just be beneficial if-”

“I would like to have it over with.”

He cringes. It’s not the words a man wants to hear from his wife on their wedding night. He had always assumed his wedding night would be the best of his life, something filled with love and passion. He sees now that he was dreadfully wrong.

“If this is not something you wish to do today…”

“The marriage must be consummated.” It’s a practiced thought.

He thinks for a moment… then gives in. “I will do my best to make you comfortable. Come.” He beckons you over to him and you apprehensively make your way to your new lord husband.

His hand moves your hair out of the way as your back faces him. His fingers move to the ties of your dress and he starts to undo it. You feel cold when it’s tugged down, even with the fire heating the room. You stand in front of him now, only in your slip as he gazes down at you. You thought he would look more hungry, more lustful.

“May I take this off?” He murmurs, his fingers toying with the strap of your slip.

You know it is traditional to be bare for the act but just the thought of a man seeing you naked, even if he is your husband, makes you shudder.

Cregan senses your unease and speaks again, “Perhaps I should rephrase myself. Do you wish for me to take this off? You need not say yes just because it is expected, my love.”

“I-I would rather not.” You say with a shaky voice.

“Then you will keep it on. You will have to take off your small clothes though, but I think you should do that yourself.” He says carefully before unbuttoning and removing his tunic to give you a sense of being on the same level but looking at his bare chest does nothing but make you feel… strange.

You move slowly and he looks away as you pull your underwear off from beneath your slip. He then takes your hand to lead you to the bed but you pull it out of his grasp and crawl onto it yourself, looking at him with as straight of a face as you can muster.

“Will you have me on my front or back?”

“Pardon?”

“Would you like me to lie on my stomach or my back?” You ask emotionlessly.

“Um… well whatever is preferable for you. I thought, perhaps, you would allow me to do something first, to prepare you?” He kneels before you, between your legs. His fingers play with the hem of your chemise, ready to lift it and place kisses up… up… up. “You would enjoy it, I promise.” The look in his eyes is warm, an attempt to be comforting.

“No, I don’t want that.” You move back like a spooked mare. He may be about to bed you but that is far too intimate. “I want it done with.”

“You’re trembling. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You don’t frighten me.” You protest, almost offended, even if you are afraid.

“I won’t hurt you… or i’ll try not to.” You’re tense and a virgin, it would be lucky if he didn’t hurt you a little bit. “I’ll be gentle. I’ll take care of you.” He tries his hardest to reassure you but to no avail.

You roll onto your stomach so you don’t have to look him in the eyes, so he can’t see the tears that are threatening to fall. “Please just make it quick.”

Quick and gentle aren’t usually two things that go hand in hand but he wants to do his best to make it easy for you. Over and done with he thinks as he lifts your hips to place a pillow under them so you’ll be more comfortable.

“It will sting at first but we’ll go at your pace. Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?” You don’t say anything for a few seconds. “I need to know you understood me, darling.”

“I understand.” The short statement is enough for him.

He lifts your slip until it only covers your bum. Usually he would feel himself harden at the sight of such plush thighs but your discomfort makes it difficult to arouse himself. He pumps his hand along his shaft, feeling it finally get stiff. He then spits on his hand so he can at least provide some lubricant even with you refusing his attempts of preparation.

You almost shiver when you feel the head of him against your folds and your eyes screw shut when he starts to push in.

The resistance. The resistance of your body makes him feel sick to his stomach. He’s never had a time with a woman where he didn’t just slip in with ease and now he’s just forced himself into his unwilling young bride.

“I should stop.” He breathes out.

“That is all it is?” You thought it would last longer.

“No, but you don’t like it.”

“I won’t like it anymore another day.”

Gods he feels worse now. Will it always be awful for you? Will you never be happy as his wife?

He starts to thrust in and out of your warmth anyhow. If he can’t please you then he at least won’t prolong your misery. It stings no matter how slow he goes, your body isn’t used to such a stretch. He holds your hips carefully, wanting nothing more to kiss you gently and tell you how beautiful you are, how good you’re doing. He just knows that such sentiments would fall on deaf ears.

It goes on for a few minutes. The tears that were held in your eyes are now fallen as you bury your face in the pillows. You don’t want him to see how weak you are. It’s pathetic to cry over something that every woman goes through. Your tears won’t make you feel less ruined, they won’t stop the mixing of his seed with your maiden’s blood. When it’s finally over, all you can do is hope that there is a son in your belly so you’ll never have to warm your husband’s bed again.

He hears your muted sobs for only a few minutes before you’re quiet. It’s been more than a long day and he’s pleased you have found your rest. You shift in your sleep, your body never used to the cold as you turn to face him. He wishes he could make you as content in waking day as you are in sleep. Cregan’s hand brushes the hair off your face. He knows there’s no woman in the world so beautiful. Any man would be pleased to have you… but you’re not truly his.

Your brows furrow as you feel the chill in your sleep. You subconsciously look for warmth and you unintentionally find it in the man that lies next to you. Cregan isn’t sure what to do when his delicate bride starts to cling to him but he can’t prevent the small smile from crossing his lips. At least an unthinking part of you finds solace in him.

taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus @joliettes @black-swan-blog27 @mxtokko @valeridarkness @karolalolla @satan-s-ass @synindoodles @a-beaverhausen @petertingle3000 @lunnnix @hermaeusmorax @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @purplegardenwhispers @aesthetic0cherryblossom @katiemars @yourwonderbelle @callsignwidow

#lord husband #cregan fic #cregan stark smut #cregan stark fic #cregan stark #cregan #Hotd #Hotd fic #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader

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oddinary4bts · 1 year ago

Text

When the End Comes | epilogue (jjk)

☆summary: when the weather seems to work against you and Jungkook for your wedding day, you decide to change plans last minute. In any other situation, it would have made you freak out - but how can you freak out, when you're getting married to the love of your life?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: marriage!au, fluff, smut

☆warnings: cursing, mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, mentions of Jungkook's injury, mentions of breakups, Jungkook's scars, explicit content: wedding night sex, nipple play, a tie around OC's neck, jerking off, oral sex (male and female receiving), mouth fucking, fingering, dirty talking, squirting, ball fondling, shower sex, unprotected sex (they're married give them a break haha)

☆word count: 12.1k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: Finally finished the epilogue for you guys! I hope you love it just as much as I loved writing it :') it's going to be hard to say goodbye to this couple, but I hope you love their ending <3 Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3 and thank you to @jessikahathaway for supporting me with this project, you are amazinnng

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆☆☆☆☆

My heart is going onto you So be the heart that I'm choosing, heart that I'm choosing Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes, Andrew Belle

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, July 6th

The rising sun turns your bedroom into liquid gold, slowly dragging you out of sleep. You bask in the gentle warmth, instinctively turning around to cuddle closer to Jungkook.

In his sleep, Jungkook wraps an arm around you, pulling you ever so closer until your head is pressed to his chest. His heartbeat sings in your ear and you listen to the melody, wishing it would make you fall back asleep.

Alas, your thoughts trot to tomorrow, and like a kid on Christmas morning, too excited to fall back asleep, sleep evades you. So you just enjoy Jungkook’s proximity, sighing softly as he brushes a kiss on the top of your head.

You smile against him, kissing the skin of his chest against which your face is pressed. Jungkook shifts a little bit, his breathing growing slightly uneven, the only indication that he’s waking up as well.

“Morning,” he whispers, voice gruff with sleep.

“Morning,” you echo, and you try to pull back to take a look at his face, but he holds you tighter.

You chuckle, and you snake an arm around his waist, gently caressing the skin of his back. The moment is peaceful, serene, the kind of moments you never want to step away from. They have been frequent, since you moved in with him in Seoul. Life with him has been perfect, like it was at the very beginning of your relationship. Now, no long distance can ever create a wedge between the two of you - every decision you make together, for the both of you.

You’ve been falling in love with him more every day.

“Let’s stay here until tomorrow,” Jungkook whispers, his hold on you momentarily tightening.

You peck his chest again. “I wish we could.”

He whines, a sound that vibrates in his ribcage, and this time you laugh. “Please?”

“You don’t want to get married anymore?” you ask, faking offense as you try to push away from him again.

He doesn’t let you go, though you fight against him for a little longer this time around.

“On the contrary,” he replies. “I kind of wish we’d get married faster.”

It’s a struggle, but you manage to raise your head to look at him. From this angle, all you can see is his sharp jawline and the mole on his neck.

“Why?”

“Because I love you?”

His words make your heart race in your chest, like they always do. Because no amount of declaration of love will ever be enough to stop the uprising of butterflies, to slow down the organ that beats for him.

That has been beating for him since a July night eight years ago. Still, when you were apart, it kept on beating for him, and you know that it will keep on beating for him until you draw your very last breath, at the end of the long road still ahead of the two of you.

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

“I know.”

A comfortable silence settles around the two of you again, and you believe you might be able to fall back asleep after all. Unfortunately for you, Bam heard the two of you, and his wagging tail bangs against the dresser as the dog walks over to Jungkook’s side of the bed, propping his front paws on the mattress so that he can reach for Jungkook.

Jungkook shrieks, sitting up, and you burst out laughing, rolling on your back as he lets go of you.

“He licked me,” Jungkook complains, his familiar pout on display.

You sit up, pressing a gentle kiss on his soft lips. “Maybe I should lick you too.”

His pout melts into a devilish smirk. “I’ve got ideas of where you could lick, mmh.”

You laugh as he tackles you, pushing you back down on the bed. Bam takes that as a cue to jump on the bed, and the next five minutes are spent in giggles and laughs and shrieks, a tangled mess of your own little family. When you all finally calm down, Jungkook slips out of bed with the dog in tow so that he can feed him, and you enjoy a few more minutes of peace before you follow them.

When you walk into the kitchen, Jungkook is busying himself with plating the soy eggs you’ve been eating for breakfast, and he offers you a grin over his shoulder. You think the grin would be enough to make you fly, and you smile in return as you walk over to him, loosely wrapping your arms around his dainty waist.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Mmh.”

He laughs, gently patting your arm. “You’ll get your food soon enough, fear not.”

You hum again, pressing a kiss on his soft skin. His muscles flex as he moves, and you let go of him, heading to the table. Bam trots to you, and you pet the dog as Jungkook finishes with breakfast, carrying it to you. He sits next to you, pecking your cheek as he puts down a plate in front of you.

“Thank you,” you say, immediately diving into the food. It makes Jungkook laugh, even as he follows suit.

As you eat, Jungkook grabs his phone from his pocket, scrolling on Instagram. You look at the screen as he does so, resting your head on his shoulder when you’re done with the eggs. It’s something you also often do - looking at memes and the likes together, spending time in silence, together.

“I hope the forecast has changed for tomorrow,” Jungkook says through a yawn as he switches to the weather app.

It hasn’t. The forecast still announces a rainstorm, and you hide your face in his neck as you groan.

“What are we supposed to do?” you ask. “We can’t have everyone sit in the rain.”

“The reception hall said we can be there early,” Jungkook reminds you. “We can just have the ceremony there instead.”

You pout, not replying. Because you had planned to have the ceremony outside - you’d even wanted to have it happen at night, under a blanket of stars. But it wasn’t possible, so you’d settled for a ceremony outside in a field. Unlike traditional Korean weddings, you’d also decided to have a reception after, so Jungkook has a point.

But you really don’t feel like getting married indoors.

“We should just cancel everything,” you whine. “Let’s wait until we can have our perfect wedding.”

Jungkook leans his head on top of yours. “It’s sunny today.” His voice holds mischief, and you sit back to look at him. His eyes twinkle like stars in the night sky, and for a moment, you just want to get lost in his gaze.

Until an idea sparks in your mind.

“Can we move everything to today?” you ask.

He purses his lips. “Jimin, Bridget and Heather are landing today,” he reminds you. “I thought you wanted to introduce Jimin and Somi.”

Somi. A friend you met during your spinning classes. She’s been a gift here in Korea, helping you adjust in ways that Jungkook couldn’t. More than that, Somi is a hopeless romantic, and something about the way she carries herself makes you think that Jimin would like her.

Maybe she’s what Jimin needs to finally move on from Scottie.

“Right,” you let out. “Fuck.”

Jungkook shrugs. “We could get married and then still have the reception tomorrow.”

Your gaze widens. “You think your dad would accept?”

Indeed, Jungkook’s father is your officiant, since your own father wouldn’t have any legal right to marry you in South Korea. It was still an easy decision though - Jungkook’s family has been treating you like you’ve always been a part of them ever since you’ve met them, all those years ago.

“Definitely,” Jungkook affirms. “I can call him right now.”

“What about the witnesses?” you ask.

“Ask your dad to come, and my mother or my brother can sign for me.”

It seems so simple. You do feel a little guilty thinking about all of your friends who came all the way here to see you get married, but then again, you think they would understand.

They all know that you and Jungkook have always been a little more on the secretive side, even when you were young and dumb college students. So you don’t think any of them would hold it against you…

“Jungkook…”

“Yes?”

“Should we really?”

Even as you ask the question, you already know you want to. Because declaring your love in a room full of people feels like a lot of pressure, even though all of them are already aware of that same love. But to you, it feels impersonal, and you’d rather just do it alone with Jungkook and a few key people.

Maybe it’s the reason why the forecast has been battling against you. Like a sign that you aren’t supposed to get married in that field anyway.

“Do you want to?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head to the side as his features grow serious.

You nod once. “I think it’s a good idea…” you trail off, wetting your lips. “Especially considering the rain.”

“And then I’d get to call you wife today,” he says, smiling softly.

“And I’d get to call you husband.”

His smile slowly widens. “Then let’s do it.”

“What about everyone else though? What do we say?”

Jungkook flicks your nose, winking at you. “They don’t need to know.”

“And the hairstylist and makeup artist?”

“You can still get glammed up for the reception.”

“And Mingyu?”

“I’ll tell him to come today.”

You hold his big doe eyes for a moment, pursing your lips. Your heart syncs with his, warmth filling your soul. It feels like that July night sky, like his lips on yours and a reunion after months apart. Time stretches, and for a moment, you see all of your life in front of you, and all the love and the happiness and joy that it will hold.

Eyes slowly lining with silver, you finally say, “Let’s do it.”

*****

The field is lined with wildflowers, swimming in the breeze. Their fragrance floats in the air, and bees flutter from flower to flower, collecting the pollen. Fat clouds roll in the sky above, plump and white, and the sun shines, endlessly.

The arch where you were supposed to get married tomorrow is already there, a beautiful contraption of entwined vines. White and lilac balloons were supposed to be added to it, but the lack of them doesn’t deter you.

Not when the man you love is waiting for you, right under it. Eyes shining with unshed tears, as your hand tightens on your father’s arm.

“Let’s do it,” your father whispers for just you to hear.

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “What if it’s the wrong thing to do?”

You can’t help the anxiety. It isn’t even what you truly feel - just the anxiety of an important moment in your life, coming sooner than expected. Your question makes your father laugh.

“I’ve never seen a man loving a woman as much as the kid loves you,” he reassures you. “Put him out of his misery.”

You snort, though it sounds more like a sob, as a tear rolls on your cheek. “I love him so much, too.”

Your father pats your hand, and then starts walking you towards where Jungkook is waiting for you, his mother and brother next to him, his father behind him. All of them look at you with tears in their eyes, and you fight the next wave that threatens to spill on your cheeks.

Louis, Isabelle, Jungkook’s brother’s wife and their kids are standing on each side of the makeshift aisle, as the chairs weren’t delivered yet. Still, they also look at you. For a moment, you picture your friends - Jiho, Hobi, Somi, Heather, Bridget, Jo, Taehyung, Kiko, Yoongi, Jin, Valeria, Jimin, Lance and Chaeyeong… You picture all of them sharing this moment of love with you. You do feel bad for them - especially for Jiho and Heather, who were supposed to be your bridesmaids - but then again, you’ll see them tonight.

For your pretend bachelorette.

Everyone present right now promised to keep this instant secret, at least until the reception tomorrow. Just so that you can tell your friends yourself when the moment comes.

You take a step forward, and then another, the distance between you and Jungkook slowly diminishing until you’re standing right in front of him, close enough to see the scar on his left cheek and the mole under his bottom lip. You see everything and nothing at once, your tears blinding you until you blink them away.

Jungkook is not faring any better. Two tears are rolling down his right cheek, and he wipes them with the back of his hand, chuckling softly.

He looks beautiful in his tuxedo, the form tight to his body. He looks massive, strong, yet so delicate in the way his features soften as he looks at you. As he melts like ice in the sun, like you do as well. You melt like that winter of the months away from him never existed, like you never broke up for those terrible months. The memory of them left a scar on your heart, but as you look at him right now, you think the scar is disappearing, like maybe it really never existed.

You look down at yourself, at the white dress on your body. It’s tight to your frame, but the fabric is stretchy enough for it to remain comfortable. Its off-the-shoulder style is perfect for the warm temperature, and the lace that decorates it is beautiful, yet simple.

Jungkook takes you in, whispering, “You’re beautiful,”, as his father starts reciting the usual wedding speech. As much as you want to focus, to paint this moment in your memory, to be able to relive it again and again, it flashes before you until you finally reach the vows.

Jungkook scrapes his throat, then lets out a small, pained sob as new tears roll down his cheeks. You cry in time with him, laughing through it all, as you wipe the tears on his face.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath to calm down. “Wow. I…” he trails off, chuckling again, and his hands close around yours in the space between you. “I never believed we’d finally reach this day,” Jungkook finally says. “For years, I’ve known that you were the one. Hell, I knew the first day I saw you.” He chuckles, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. “I think that’s why you got on my nerves so much.” You swat his arm, laughing, and he winks at you. “I think then I was just scared, because I knew just how much I was going to love you someday, and it first scared me. But when I finally got to be with you, I realized there is nothing to be scared about when it comes to my love for you.” He pauses, blinking a few times. “Except when you get mad at me. That’s scary.”

Soft laughter surrounds you, that of the closest people in your life right now. Mingyu snaps pictures, and your brain zeroes in on the sound for a few seconds until Jungkook speaks again.

“And then I lost you.” You shut your eyes, the pain of the few months away awakening inside of you. “I hated myself for those few months, but even then, I think I knew it was always going to be us two. Whether in this life or another, I knew I’d find you again.” His voice, heavy with emotion, wavers on the last words, and it takes him a moment of breathing in and out before he’s able to continue. “I will forever be thankful that I found you again in this life. That I’ll get to spend every day of my life with you.”

The wind is gentle on your features, almost as gentle as Jungkook’s touch is. Your hands tighten on his fingers for a few seconds, to give him the strength to finish.

“That we’ll get to share the dance of our lives, until death does us part,” he finishes. “I love you, Y/n.”

That last bit was barely over a whisper, yet it clangs through you, vibrates in your soul beautifully. You laugh softly, whispering, “I love you too, Jungkook. So, so much.”

He laughs too, and then you both blink away tears, right as you take a few deep breaths, trying to get ready for your own vows.

You’ve prepared them a while ago. As a matter of fact, the days following his proposal you’d known what you were going to say. You’d almost suggested getting married right then and there, though you don’t regret anything.

Because today feels right. It feels right in ways you can’t comprehend, like it’s time for an entirely new cataclysm, but one that creates.

One that creates a life instead of destroying. That creates a world for just you and him, something you’ll share until the very end.

“Jungkook,” you start. “I’ve loved you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. Even when I didn’t know what love was, you were there in my heart, slowly making the place yours. When we danced under the stars eight years ago, I knew we would make it to this day. That we’d get married, that we’d always be partners. And I want us to be partners. I want us to make every important decision together, to love and hold each other. To dance under a thousand different night skies, to grow old and grumpy together. Every day, I will love you. I will look into your eyes and know that they were made for me.”

You pause, wiping tears on your cheeks. “I also want to thank you. Thank you for being patient with me, for welcoming me back into your life after those months last year. Thank you for still loving me, for still wanting me even though I broke your heart. And thank you, all those years ago, for being there for me, even though we were at an awkward place in life. The help you granted me when I got kicked out kept me going, and I really, really thank you for it. I just hope I can repay you properly through the years.”

“You already have,” Jungkook chokes out.

You want to wrap him in your arms, but you resist, instead holding his gaze with all the love in your heart. You think your souls are merging, though you reckon you’ve been one for far longer than this moment already.

You’ve been one since you first chose to love him, and he you.

“You can exchange the rings,” Jungkook’s father says, and he sounds just as choked on emotion as the two of you.

So you do, Jungkook gently pushing the ring on your finger. It’s pretty, delicate, similar to the engagement ring he’d gotten you. Though the wedding ring sports emeralds instead, shaped like leaves. It’s fairy-like, and you smile at its simple beauty before putting Jungkook’s ring on his finger.

He raises his hand to look at the ring, smiling brightly. As his father proclaims to kiss the bride, Jungkook’s hand shifts towards you, before gently grabbing your chin. He tilts your head back, and your eyes dip to his mouth as he wets his lips.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he says, and then he’s crashing his mouth on yours, ravishing a passionate kiss on your lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck as he dips you, unable to stop the smile that grows on your lips despite the intensity of the kiss. Jungkook is smiling too, and he straightens you as he pulls away before pecking your lips once more.

“I love you so fucking much too.”

*****

Lying to your friends has been feeling like a game you can play too well. Or maybe it’s only because you’re still reeling from getting married, though you have yet to call Jungkook your husband. You’re waiting until tomorrow, maybe to save something for your wedding night.

It’s hard to tell why you both refrained. Maybe you just really want something special for the wedding night, for the moment you’ll finally be embracing in your marital bed, limbs entwined until one can’t tell where you end and where he begins.

Your blood heats up at the thought. Earlier, when you were forced to part ways, you’d almost decided to stay. To stay and fuck him right then and there, to consummate this union between you and him. From the way he’d kissed you, driving his knee between your legs, you know he wanted it too.

But time ran out, and Jiho knocked on your door, stealing you away.

You shake your head, trying to clear your mind so that you can focus on your friends. On the dinner going on around you, with too much alcohol for it to be safe. When you told your friends that the ceremony was supposedly moved inside and later in the day, they’d decided that drinking more was the way to go.

So maybe you shake your head to clear your mind from the alcohol as you dive into the food. It’s delicious, and you eat and laugh and smile with your friends, loving how Somi fits right in despite the language barrier. Both Jiho and Chaeyeoung also speak Korean, so it’s been helping for sure, Somi chatting happily with them.

You sit back in your chair, looking over your group of friends. Heather, with her arm on the chair behind Bridget, smiling broadly at something Bridget is saying. Jiho, fast in a conversation with Somi and Chaeyeoung about a group Jungkook was photographing last week. Jo and Kiko, subtly trying to pour shots for the both of them, the latter’s cheeks already flushed red. Valeria watching them, eyes crinkled with happiness.

You love them so freaking much.

You wonder if Jungkook is sitting through a similar dinner with the rest of the friend group. You wonder if he, too, is thinking of you, imagining the moment you’ll finally be reunited. Imagining the moment you’ll be able to put the ring back on your finger so that everyone will know you’re his and he’s yours.

“Hey, are you planning to give some of that to the rest of us?” you ask Jo and Kiko, and Jo startles, spilling alcohol over the rim of her shot glass.

“Oh,” Jo lets out. “You guys want some?”

“Aren’t we partying tonight?” you remind her.

Jo smirks wickedly. “We sure are.”

And so she pours shots for everyone. You clink the glasses together, not caring for the spilled alcohol, and knock it back. The burn down your throat is devilish, and you know that tonight might just be the time of your life, in different ways than tomorrow night will be.

You notice Valeria looking at her still full shot glass before putting it down on the table. She finds you looking, and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Wait,” you let out, and everyone turns to look at you. “Are you…?”

Valeria chuckles, eyes filling with tears. “Yeah, I am.”

Everybody screams and shrieks in happiness, congratulating her. She beams under the attention, and you find yourself blinking back tears for her and Jin. They’d been trying for kids for a few years now, but they’d been unlucky so far. So you’re really happy for them, and you get up to hug your friend tight.

“I didn’t mean to steal your shine,” she whispers.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her as you pull away. “I’m just happy for you.”

She smiles, nodding her head. “Thank you.”

You pat her shoulder, walking back to your seat so that the other girls can hug and congratulate her. Questions about how far along she is and if she wants a girl or a boy are exchanged, and you watch the scene unfold with a teary-eyed smile on your lips.

Jiho, sitting next to you, leans closer to you. “What about you?” she asks.

You cock an eyebrow. “What?”

“You and Jungkook are planning to have any kids?”

The question makes your heart race. Years ago, you would have said no. Even last year, when you’d reconnected, you hadn’t been sure if kids were in your future. But the more time you spend with Jungkook, loving him, the more you realize that maybe it’s a future that would feel right for the both of you.

Because if there’s someone you would want to raise a kid with, it would have to be Jungkook.

“I’m not sure,” you truthfully reply. “Maybe one day?”

Jiho smiles, knowing what you mean. She’s been your closest friend all your life after all, and she already knows the ways of your brain. “You would be brilliant parents,” she tells you, her eyes shining with tears.

“I don’t know about that, but I would definitely do my best.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “The way you parent Lisa and Charles for me and Hobi sometimes tells me you’d be the best parents.”

“Stop,” you say, echoing her laugh as you shake your head. “We’ll see.”

“We sure will.”

After that, the conversation returns to a shared one around the table, one you gladly participate in. It’s not too long before you decide to hit the streets, heading to the club Somi chose for the evening. It’s one where you went twice with her before, though tonight you have access to the VIP section.

And so you drink and dance with your friends, careless, as if you’re back to your college days. As if none of you are adults with responsibilities, as if you can just live with no consequences. It feels liberating, yet you find yourself in a quiet corner in the early hours of the morning, seeking the man that you love.

[1:27 am] You: miss u

You’re not quite surprised when Jungkook replies almost right away.

[1:28 am] baby <3: miss u too [1:28 am] baby <3: how’s the party

You smile, heart warming up with your love for him.

[1:28 am] You: it’d be better with u here [1:29 am] baby <3: soon

And though it might just be a text sent in the early hours of the morning, you know that it’s a promise. A promise that you will soon be together again, never to be separated.

Saturday, July 7th

Jungkook looks out the window of the car, heartbeat racing like it’s seeking to win a Formula 1 Grand Prix. He doubts he’ll win - it rather feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest.

He doesn’t know why he’s so anxious. Hell, you’re already married, and he just can’t wait to see you again. Though it might be the fact that he’s been lying to everyone, and he hates lying.

He reckons Jimin is onto him. The moment they hugged for the first time, Jimin narrowed his gaze, tilting his head to the side as if to say ‘Something’s changed about you’. Jungkook wanted to admit everything, to reveal that you are already married, but he held on strong.

He’s excited to get to the reception hall and to say the truth. Mostly, he’s excited to have you close again, and he knows he’ll never be without you again. Especially considering how much of a mess he is after just a single day.

He’s yet to call you wife. He’s been trying to figure out a way to do it, something for just the two of you. Because it’s always been about the two of you anyway - ever since the very first day, ever since that dance under the night sky. Eight years ago to the day, Jungkook fell so deep in love, and every day he’s been falling more. And he knows he’ll keep on falling - it’s the most beautiful thing in life. His love for you, yes, but the act of it being shared by your pure heart.

You’ll have so much fun together.

Taehyung parks the car in the parking lot of the reception hall, shooting a look at Jungkook over his shoulder. Jungkook offers him a tight-lipped smile, and Taehyung nods once.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Definitely,” Jungkook says, smile softening.

Taehyung nods again, before turning back around to turn off the wipers and then the engine. The sound of the rain on the roof of the car is deafening, yet Jungkook thinks it’s a beautiful melody.

It allowed him to marry you yesterday after all.

Lance gets out of the car, carrying an umbrella around so that Jungkook won’t get wet. He wants to say it’s useless - you saw him already - but he refrains, instead thanking his friend as he gets out of the car, safe from the storm.

The car with Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, Yoongi and Mingyu arrives behind them, and they all quickly make their way inside, shaking off the water. The families are already here, and Jungkook watches as everyone mingles, bright smiles on their lips. Bridget and Heather come to see him, and he smiles widely as the couple stops in front of him.

“Excited?” Bridget asks.

His smile turns into a smirk. “More than ever. Especially for tonight.”

Heather rolls her eyes as Bridget wiggles her eyebrows, and then Jungkook’s father jogs to him, grabbing his arm.

“It’s time,” the older man says.

Jungkook feels a lump forming in his throat, as if it isn’t already done. As if you aren’t already united by the vows of marriage, until death does you apart. Yet, he still nods goodbye to his friends, and then follows his father to the little dais where the DJ will be playing later tonight.

People turn to look at him curiously, probably expecting him to go out of the room for the wedding processional. Instead, Jungkook grabs a mic, scraping his throat before bringing it closer to his mouth.

“Hey everyone,” he greets the crowd, and silence slowly falls on the room. “Thank you for coming today. It means a lot to me and Y/n, more than you can imagine.”

And then you walk out of the room where you were hiding with Jiho, Heather and Somi, and people gasp at the sight of you.

“The only thing is,” Jungkook continues, and he offers you his hand to hold. The moment your fingers touch he feels rejuvenated, like maybe he was just born this instant. And you look fabulous - did you get more beautiful in the day apart? “The only thing is,” Jungkook restarts. “We already got married.”

Wide gazes and shocked gasps now fill the room, and Jungkook hands you the mic, even as Jiho takes a step towards you, as if to stop you.

“We’d always dreamed to get married outside,” you say, and you motion to the rain splattering on the window panes. “Unfortunately, the weather was working against us. So we got married yesterday, with only our close family present.”

You meet Jungkook’s gaze, offering him a teary-eyed smile. He’s surprised to see the tears in your gaze, as if not expecting them, but they quickly make his gaze wet as well, and he chuckles softly, his heart feeling like he’s been embraced by all the love in the universe.

The world slows around you. Jungkook feels like he’s falling through the years, through the past, through every hurdle that stood in your path. All of them were worth it. So fucking worth it - he wouldn’t be standing next to you right now without them.

Your smile softens, if that is even possible. Eyes so full of love he thinks he’ll combust, like a firework exploding in colours and beauty. Because you’ve always brought out the best of him.

“So we did want to apologize to all of you who traveled all the way from the States,” you continue, and you look away from Jungkook.

He steps closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to press you against him. You easily melt in his touch, leaning your head on him.

“But we also wanted to thank you for coming, and we hope that tonight’s party is going to still be worth it.”

On that note, Jungkook gets the rings in his pocket, as you give the mic to a stunned Jiho. You face him again, and like yesterday, Jungkook gently puts your ring on your finger. It’s delicate, beautiful - everything that you are as well. His is simpler, yet still just as elegant, and its weight is a comfortable reminder of your love the second it’s on his finger.

Looking in your eyes, Jungkook wonders if he deserves your love. It’s a weird question to ask himself in the moment, and he knows he does. Or at least he’ll always work to make sure he deserves it, and he’ll offer you everything in his heart and soul. Because you’re the love of his life - he knew from the moment he met you.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Jungkook gently grabs your cheeks, the crowd slowly fading away. It’s like you’re alone in the universe, just you and him. In a world that is just yours - maybe that forgotten space where you’d first met. It’s a world of simple love, eternal. And in that world, Jungkook gently leans in, pressing his lips on yours, kissing you like he has all the time in the universe.

And he does. He does now.

Cheering brings him back to reality, and Jungkook pulls away, laughing along with you as you grab his hand, facing your friends and family. They are cheering and clapping, bright smiles welcoming you back to reality. You bow to them in tandem, and then Jungkook leads you down the dais so that you can receive the congratulations from everyone.

And though it might be a little exhausting, Jungkook knows that all of his burdens will now be shared with you. So with a heart lighter than the wind, Jungkook follows you around the room, and he follows you to your shared future.

*****

The reception has been fun. The food was perfect, the cake just as tasty, and to be surrounded with the people you love has been a dream. A beautiful dream - one you’ll forever spend with the love of your life.

Jungkook leads you to the dancefloor for the first dance. A dance for just the two of you, shared with your friends and family. The first of so many other dances, yet it’s hardly the first. You stop in front of him, and he puts one hand on your waist, the other gently closing around your fingers. You put your free hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly.

Before you even start dancing, Jungkook whispers, “Do you want to dance with me?” and your eyes fill with tears as a sob racks through you.

“Yes,” you whisper back. “Always.”

He smiles, a tear rolling on his cheek, and then the music starts. It’s a soft song, a gentle love song, by an artist you both came to love through the years. It’s one you’ve danced to a thousand times before, yet today it feels different. It feels like that July night eight years ago - the cataclysm of you and him, relived.

So you dance with him, eyes lost in the shine of his gaze, in the pure love it holds. You dance and dance, remembering the years. Remembering finding him again after his accident. Remembering the hate you’d arbored for him, that had always been love disguised. Remembering falling in love, yet pushing him away. Remembering Laura, and the day Jungkook had chosen you over her. Remembering Chicago, the dance crew, the parties you spent too busy getting lost in each other to partake in the reveling.

You remember everything - moving into your new apartment, him later moving in with you. Loving each other - the day Lisa was born, and Jungkook had held her with so many stars in his eyes you believed he’d turn into a galaxy. You remember the cottage, the camping trips, the long distance. The dreaded long distance - who would have thought it was leading you to this moment in time? You remember Harrison, remember falling back into Jungkook’s arms - the hotel balcony on Taehyung and Jo’s wedding. You remember everything, all at once - the day he proposed.

And the day he married you. The most important day of your life, forever.

As the dance slowly comes to an end, Jungkook kisses you again. Telling you that he, too, remembers everything. That it was all supposed to happen the way that it did, if only to lead you to the right place for you. On the other side of the world, together.

Always together.

After that first dance, everyone joins you on the dancefloor. Love in their hearts, your friends and family dance. Laughter and smiles and teary eyes reign on the world tonight, and you take it all in. Take all the love in, and redirect it to Jungkook.

So you kiss him, right there on the dance floor. You kiss him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. And he kisses you back, his arms snaking around your waist. You wonder if he can hear the wild beats of your heart - is his heart beating just as wildly?

You know it is. Because the love between you and him will forever be shared - it’s the kind people write poems about. And you feel like a poet tonight, like you’re experiencing the most beautiful moment of your life. Something you’ll always look back on with fondness and love and nostalgia.

When you’ll be old and grey and death will take you in its hold, you know today will be the movie in your mind, the moment you’ll relive before you go.

But for now, you need to experience it. To party with your friends, to enjoy this moment where you and Jungkook are celebrated. So you do. Even as Jiho scolds you for not telling her, even as your father makes a speech that ends up making everyone cry. You think you’re on top of a mountain, breathing in the fresh air, making you feel younger than you’ve ever been. New, untainted by the horrors of the world.

It’s just you and Jungkook tonight, and love. Love and love and love, as he leads you outside to get fresh air after the first hour of partying. If his leg is hurting him, he doesn’t let it show. Instead he leads you away from the light of the building, walking around the ponds left from the rain earlier.

It relented. It relented to let you see the moon and the stars, though clouds drift above, hiding most of the blanket of constellations that means so much to the two of you.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook asks as he pulls your back flush to his chest, and you both tilt your heads back to look up to the night sky.

“Infinite,” you reply. “I feel like I love you even more than before.”

He kisses the top of your head. “So do I. Forever.”

“Forever,” you echo.

Because the end won’t ever come for you and him. Even in death, you know your soul will dance with his.

“Dance with me,” you tell him.

It’s a remix of your usual question, yet the answer doesn’t change. Jungkook turns you around, yet keeps you close to him, swaying you to the soft night breeze. He leans his forehead against yours, and you breathe in the same air as you dance gently, slowly.

“We’re married,” Jungkook murmurs.

“We are.”

“I love you so much,” he adds, his voice trembling with emotion.

Yours isn’t much better as you reply, “I love you so much too.”

*****

Jimin walks outside, needing fresh air. He stops in his tracks when he notices you and Jungkook, dancing the night away. He smiles - if only he’d be able to find love like that one day.

Though his heart aches, never fully healed from what happened with Scottie, Jimin is happy for the two of you. Happy that, through the hurdles, you and Jungkook made it.

You give him hope, more than he’d dare admit.

He looks at you for a few more seconds, before turning around to walk back inside. He startles at the sight of the pretty girl behind him, and he stops right before he was to run into her.

Somi. Right. The friend you told him about. And though Jimin is usually charming, flirty, all he can do when he looks down at the girl is shyly smile, cheeks burning.

“They’re adorable,” she says in Korean, looking behind him.

Jimin glances at you once more. “They really are. I can only hope to find love like that someday.”

He meets Somi’s gaze again, scolding himself for saying such a vulnerable thing to a stranger. Yet, her eyes twinkle with understanding, and she motions to the side.

“Do you want to walk with me?”

Jimin feels his throat go dry, yet he nods. “Sure.”

“It’s just…” she trails off. “I think we’re the only single people here,” she explains, as if she needed to.

Or as if he didn’t sound so sure.

“Even if we weren’t, I’d still walk with you,” Jimin says, voice low, finding some of his old charming self back.

It works. Damn it it works, and Somi takes it in stride, a gentle smile moving on her red-tinted lips. “Good. Because you’re the only one I’d want to walk with.”

He laughs, a clear laugh he hasn’t laughed in years. And then they walk with easy conversation, and Somi reveals more of her past. More of how she became friends with you, how she always wanted to meet everyone. To meet Jimin, she adds, a shy smile on her lips.

They walk to a small river, though the current is rushing from the rainstorm earlier. Yet the night takes the edge off the rush, making it seem like the most idyllic scene Jimin could have conjured up.

Or maybe that’s Somi and her soft smiles. Her big eyes shining brightly whenever she meets his gaze. He feels like he never truly breathed before this moment - like the night air is the most refreshing, rejuvenating.

It helps that the conversation is so easy. That Somi doesn’t know about Scottie, unlike the friend group. Unlike everyone, who’s always treated Jimin differently after the breakup. Somi doesn’t - she teases him, smiles with him, and when they walk back to the reception hall when Jimin notices her shivering, even though he’s given her his jacket, she dances with him.

Jimin feels new, raw. He laughs with her, smiles with her, and butterflies slowly come to life in his stomach. His heart feels warmer than it’s felt in years - Somi is healing him. Damn him, she’s healing him in ways he doesn’t comprehend, and he barely knows her yet.

But when the end of the night comes, and he presses a gentle kiss on her lips that she immediately reciprocates, Jimin knows he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to get to know her better.

So he lets Scottie go, and welcomes Somi in.

*****

“After you,” Jungkook says, opening the door of the hotel room you’ve rented for tonight.

Bam is being babysat with your father for the night, which you think is a relief. You’ll definitely be too busy to take care of a dog tonight.

You walk into the room, taking in the flower petals and the candles that were lit by the hotel staff before your return. The atmosphere is light, romantic - a dream come true after all the years of you and him. You spin on yourself, your wedding dress fluttering around you.

Jungkook has closed the door behind him, and he’s leaning against it, watching you twirl with a smile on his lips. When you stop to look at him, his smile slowly turns into a smirk, and he tilts his head to the side.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long,” he murmurs with a husky voice.

He slowly takes off his tie, and you patiently survey him, warmth spreading through you. Once the tie is off, Jungkook steps towards you, putting it around your neck.

He tugs on it, and you stumble forward in his embrace. He was ready to catch you - he crashes his mouth on yours, and you immediately kiss him back, fire blazing in your soul. Jungkook backs you towards the bed, sucking on your lower lip.

“Kook,” you breathe against his soft pink lips, and then he pushes you on the bed.

He towers over you, slowly shrugging off his blazer. He throws it towards the couch in one corner, and the flames of the candles flicker from the rush of air. Next is his dress shirt - he slowly unbuttons it, revealing more of his perfect, honey skin as he goes down.

You watch him, hungrily. Follow every movement of his fingers, imagining how they will soon feel on you. And when he’s done unbuttoning his shirt, you open it for him, caressing his abs with the tip of your fingers. Goosebumps trail in the wake of your fingers, and Jungkook sucks in a breath as you graze his scar.

The soft, flickering light of the candles lessen the harsh edges of the scar that disappears in his pants. You follow down the line until you reach the band of his pants, and then you lean forward to press a soft kiss on the spot.

“So beautiful,” you praise. “My husband.”

He grabs your face, forcing you to look up as he bends down to kiss you. It’s a gentle kiss, yet it quickly turns languid, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You meet it with your own, drinking him in, getting drunk on his taste. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks, lovingly, never-ending.

Because love will never end between you and him.

Your hands find his dainty waist, his skin warm against your palms. He shudders as you move up his flanks, and then you pull him down, moving back on the bed. Your lips never disconnect - like two adjacent puzzle pieces that have finally been joined. So Jungkook lies on top of you, the lapels of his dress shirt tickling your arms. You try to take it off him, but it’s unsuccessful. Until he kneels to help, and soon, your eyes fall to his perked brown nipples.

You pinch them playfully as Jungkook just watches you with his gaze full of swirling emotions, love on the surface of it all. You swim in his gaze, getting lost in him.

“I’m your husband,” he breathes.

You nod, eyes filling with unsuspected tears. “You are.”

“I’m so fucking lucky.”

And then he’s bending down again, stealing a searing kiss on your lips. You moan in his mouth, and he swallows it like he always does, with a grunt of his own. You run your hands on his back, up to his hair, and you tug at the soft strands on the back of his head.

He groans a little louder this time and then pulls away from the kiss. His gaze is dark, with desire and passion and love and everything that makes him the person that you want and will spend the rest of your life with.

“How do I get you out of this dress?” he asks as one of his hands runs up and down your arm.

You sigh. “I’m pretty sure I’d have to be standing.”

He pouts, yet he gets up, gently grabbing your small hands in his large ones so that he can help you up. Once you’re standing, he pecks your nose once, turning you around when he’s done. He brushes your hair over one shoulder before bending down to kiss the skin on the side of your neck.

“It’s a shame that I have to take it off,” he breathes right in your ear, and you shiver. “But I want to see all of you while I’m making you mine tonight.”

“I’m already yours,” you reply, breath hitching in your throat as he sucks on your skin.

“Oh, I know.” He kisses your neck again and then pulls away.

It takes him a few seconds to figure out how to get you out of your dress, but he soon finds the zipper. He slowly pulls it down, and you feel his gaze burning on every inch of skin revealed. When he’s done unzipping, Jungkook pushes the dress off down your arms, and it slowly falls to the floor, pooling around your ankles.

“You weren’t wearing any underwear?” Jungkook asks, sounding out of breath.

You step out of the dress, turning to look at him innocently. “I wasn’t. Should I have?”

You can tell it takes everything in him not to jump on you. Instead, he pulls you by his tie again - you forgot it was around your neck. When you step closer to him, he lets it go, and it falls between your breasts. You look down at yourself right as Jungkook pinches your nipples, and they perk under his fingers.

“So, so beautiful,” he praises again, and he bends down to suck on one of your nipples.

Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a breathy sound as he cups your other breast, palming it softly. You lose your hands in his hair again, tugging gently to bring his mouth back to yours. You suck on his tongue the moment he pushes it in your mouth, and Jungkook grunts, especially as one of your hands falls in the space between you, palming his dick through his pants.

He’s already hard, sitting heavy in your hand, and you moan as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Shit, baby,” he breathes out. “I’m so horny. I feel like I won’t last long.”

With a devilish smirk, you drop to your knees. “It’s okay,” you reassure him. “We can fuck all night long.”

You bite at his dick through the fabric, and he curses under his breath. Yet he doesn’t do anything, just watches you as you work on his belt. When it comes undone, you unbutton his pants, holding his half-lidded gaze.

“So you want me to come in your mouth first, mmh?” he asks. “You want to swallow every last drop?”

You unzip the pants, pushing it down his legs. “You’d like that?”

“Baby, I’d love it.”

You look down at his dick, straining against his boxers. You peck his length, before smiling up at him. “I love you.”

And then you push his boxers down as well, immediately taking the tip of his cock in your mouth.

“I love-” he moans, “you too.”

You suck on his tip before pulling away so that you can jerk him off. “So fuck my mouth, Kook. Come down my throat.”

His chest rapidly goes up and down from his quick breaths, and Jungkook nods. “Alright. Open up your throat for me, baby.”

You do, mouth falling open as you push your tongue out. You let go of his dick so that he can hold it instead, and he taps it twice on your tongue, a string of saliva connecting his slit to your mouth. It’s hot, sinful, yet all you focus on are his pretty eyes as they narrow, almost as if he’s in pain, or maybe angry. His brows are bunched together, and you know he’s about to ruin you.

You want him to ruin you. You want him to ruin you every single day of the rest of your life.

Getting tired of teasing, Jungkook pushes his dick in your mouth. You take him in, relaxing your throat as he pushes as far back as you can take him. You keep the gag reflex in, and Jungkook sighs as he slowly pulls out, pushing in once more just a second later. He lets go of his dick to hold your cheeks instead, thumbs swiping on your skin again.

“You tap my leg if it gets too much, yeah?” he asks.

You moan around him, offering him a thumbs-up. It makes him snort, and he pulls out of your mouth as you start laughing, too.

“I really fucking love you, wow,” he says. “The love of my life.”

You’d get sentimental if he didn’t push his dick in your mouth again. Instead, you moan softly, and Jungkook grunts in approval.

And then he unleashes himself. You hold on to his powerful thighs, appreciating the way his muscles shift under his skin, the way the jagged edges of his scar tickle your palm. Jungkook is a grunting and cursing mess over you, though praises of love for you are the most common. You moan for him, relaxing your throat, doing all you can to keep the gag reflex in. Jungkook wipes the tears that slip on your cheeks, always trusting you to stop him if it’s too much.

But it’s not too much. Ever. You want him to ruin you so bad you’ll never be able to say anything other than his name. And he seems like he wants it, too, as he keeps snapping his hips forward in quick, harsh thrusts. His dick is infinitely hard in your mouth, and you swallow around it, though it triggers your gag reflex.

Jungkook pulls out of your mouth, though he immediately starts jerking off. You recognize the signs that he’s about to come, and you quickly wrap your lips around his tip. He throws his head back, and his dick starts twitching, his warm cum spilling on your tongue.

The taste makes you go feral. Makes you take as much of him in as you can, and cum overflows on your chin. But you don’t care - you’re truly feral for him, forever.

Jungkook finishes unloading his load directly in your throat, and he’s shaking by the time you finally pull away, swallowing his cum. The heady taste and scent doesn’t make you gag, and you lick your lips clean as he looks down at you, chest flushed red.

“Fuck,” he curses, and then he chuckles, a smile growing on his lips. “I’m the luckiest guy alive.”

You laugh as you get up, wiping your chin. “And I’m the luckiest girl.”

“You sure are,” he says, eyes fondly looking down at you. They quickly darken again, and he motions to the bed. “Now let me return the favour to my beautiful love.”

You feel like rolling your eyes at his cheesiness, yet you only then realize that he hasn’t called you wife once. Somehow, it makes you anxious, yet you’re too drunk on the taste of him to be able to interpret anything. You only obey him, lying on your back. Jungkook kneels next to the bed, and he gently caresses your thighs before pulling you closer.

He bends down, breathing in the scent of you. “I think,” he starts, and then he pauses to push his tongue inside of you once. “We’ll fuck like animals tonight.”

“Plea-” you start, though the moment he sucks on your clit, it breaks into a moan. “Jungkook…”

He doesn’t reply. He immediately busies himself with lapping you up, with drinking you in. He moans against you, appreciatively, and you lose a hand in his hair again. He’s long dishevelled by now - there’s something terribly hot about it. Because this man is yours - your husband. From now until death does you apart.

He flicks your clit, and you moan out his name the instant he slides a finger inside of you. He curls it, searching for the sweetest spot inside of you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts rubbing on it.

“Kook,” you moan. “Fuck.”

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” he says, sitting back on his heels just long enough to push another finger inside of you. Scissor motions press against the tightening muscles of your pussy, and you rock your hips towards his face. He tuts. “A little impatient, are we?”

You groan in frustration as he blows on your clit, the sensitive organ flush with blood, hard, just waiting for the next swipe of his tongue so that you can explode. But Jungkook denies it - he kisses the inside of your thighs, tracing hickeys on your soft skin. Then he kisses your pelvis, ghosting on your clit. He licks your lips, red with your arousal. He teases and teases, and you whine.

“Please,” you beg, teary-eyed. “I’m so close.”

He gives in immediately. An expert motion on your clit sends you flying over the edge, and your thighs close around his face as you climax hard. Your voice breaks in a moan, and he just keeps on fingering you. You grind against his face, milking your orgasm from yourself, instinctively. He lets you do it, delighting in your taste, in your juice on his chin.

It takes you so long to come down from the high that you don’t realize he’s not fingering you anymore. That he moved - he disappeared from between your legs. Instead, Jungkook lies on the bed next to you, tracing circles around your navel.

You turn your head, looking at him through your blown-wide pupils. He’s fuzzy, beautiful.

And most of all, he’s your husband.

“Wow,” you let out, and you chuckle as he smiles devilishly.

“I know,” he replies. “You squirted at the same time.”

You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed, though you doubt there’s anything to be embarrassed about it. Instead, you only repeat, “Wow,” and he laughs with his bunny smile, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Your husband. This man is your husband now.

“I think you’re right,” you whisper, turning to face him.

He loses the smile, instead looking at you with an inquisitive look on his features, eyebrows raised in question. “About what?”

“We’re going to fuck like animals tonight.”

He bursts out laughing, high and clear, the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen in your life. You join him, and when the laughter subsides, and he rolls over you to kiss you again, you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. He’s over you, caging you, protecting you from the big bad world and from the months last year where you’d broken apart from each other.

You’ll never be separated again.

“We should take a shower,” Jungkook suggests as he pulls away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours once more, just content with breathing shared air. “I won’t be quite ready to go again for a few minutes.”

You whine, playfully pinching his side, which earns you a shriek from him as he rolls away from you. “You’re boring, Jeon.”

He looks at you, wide smile a little frozen, and then he tears up again. “You haven’t called me that since the beginning,” he reminisces.

“The beginning?” you echo.

He nods. “You know how infuriating it was to see you again for the first time after the accident?”

The mention of his accident makes your eyes drift towards his scars. They’re beautiful on his honey skin, and you mindlessly reach between you to massage the one on his knee.

“You called me Jeon, and you were so pissed to see me,” he remembers, sighing in nostalgia. An emotion you know far too well and that you’re way too happy to dive in with him. “And when you were flirting with Jimin, I could feel my heart sink so deep.”

“Gosh, poor Jimin,” you let out.

Though you both saw him with Somi. You saw the exchanged kiss - the hesitancy, the surprise, and the bright eyes as they’d left separately, yet promised to reach out on the morrow. You’re happy for Jimin and Somi - they both deserve the whole wide world. And though it might be too early to tell, you still cheer for them.

If only because it might bring one of your dearest friends here, and God knows how much you love your friends.

“You think he and Somi will figure shit out?” Jungkook asks, propping his head on his hand.

He looks pretty like that, candlelight still casting a play of shadow and light on his features. Unable to resist, you reach between you, gently tracing the shape of his face.

“I think both of them deserve happiness,” you answer. “If they can find it in each other, I will be very happy for them.”

Jungkook’s face slowly breaks into the softest smile, and then he leans forward to peck your lips once more. “Though I love Jimin, let’s not dwell on this too long. I still want to fuck you stupid.”

You laugh as he playfully pinches your side before getting up. You look at him from where you’re still lying on the bed - his extended hand offers a promise of forever, and it’s a forever you now know to be your future, your truth.

You smile, wind catching in the sails of your heart, and you grab his hands to allow him to help you up. You use the momentum to press your lips on the pillowy softness of his swollen mouth, and Jungkook is quick to kiss you back, to offer you all of his love on a silver platter.

And he doesn’t stop there. Jungkook keeps on kissing you as he leads you to the bathroom. He turns the shower on, only breaking away long enough to adjust the water temperature. He keeps celebrating his love for you in the form of his mouth dancing with yours, and you let him guide you under the warm, soothing water of the shower.

You break away to breathe then, holding each other. Him, with his arms wrapped around your middle. You, leaning back on his chest as you gently trace idle figures on his forearms - love between you is as endless as the water cycle in the bathroom - fog condensing on the mirror, only to go back to its liquid form as it rolls down the glass before evaporating again.

You and Jeon Jungkook are never-ending.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathes when he pulls away to rest his cheek on the top of your head. He gently rocks you from side to side. “I’m so grateful to be married to you.”

“You’re my favourite husband,” you tease, but also test the waters, seeing if he’ll call you wife then.

He doesn’t. Instead, he replies, “I hope you don’t have too many husbands, that’d be upsetting.”

You turn in his arms, the water now spraying your back. “Just you, Kook. There’s always just been you.”

He caves in, brushing his mouth on yours again in the most intimate caress. “What would I do without you?”

You don’t know about him, but you’d wither. You’d wither and fade into darkness, or maybe you’d freeze like the first layer of the ground when the cold hits. You’d stop existing, you’d stop evolving, because he’s the theory of your evolution. He’s your character arc, the reason why you were put on this Earth years ago.

“I want all of you,” you breathe against his lips, and he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You welcome it in, hands getting lost in his now wet hair. His own hands hold your hips firmly, pressing you on his slowly growing erection. Before it goes out of control, you pull away, grabbing a bar of soap to wash him.

He almost purrs under your hands as they trace every line and curve of him. Eyes shut, a small smile on his lips that turns into a pout whenever you let go of him. He’s incredibly adorable - the very reason why your heart skips beat nowadays.

Why your heart ever skipped beats to begin with.

“Let me wash you too,” he murmurs when you’re done, though you haven’t touched his dick yet.

It now stands proud and tall, pointing towards you, leaking precum as you rub the bar of soap in your hands to get some foam. He watches you as you put the soap down, and you wink up at him.

“I’m not done yet.”

This time he shudders when you grab the base of his dick, gently jerking him off once so that you can clean his shaft. You then move to his balls, and you massage them with the most gentle touch you can muster up, not wanting to trigger his arousal right now.

No, you just want him to enjoy the act of being thoroughly cleaned up, to be taken care of in every way he deserves.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, and you don’t resist when he pulls you in a kiss. When he switches place with you so that he can wash away the soap from his body, you watch the residue of foam going down the drain, awaiting your turn.

Jungkook’s large hands are infinitely soft, infinitely pure - like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. Looking up at those big doe eyes you love more than the universe itself, you know Jungkook has, in truth, never done any wrong. How could he when he’s the purest soul you’ve ever come across?

He hums as he cleans you, the song you danced to earlier. Your song, you reckon, and you join in, the lyrics floating in the air surrounding you. Though you’ve never been the singer that he is, Jungkook still cleans you, thoroughly, gently, and when he’s done he puts you under the cascade of water, and you let it wash the soap away.

“You’re a fucking angel,” Jungkook whispers, and your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze. Not remembering when they closed, you let them adjust to the light, but Jungkook is quick to crash his mouth against yours, ravishing a soul-ending kiss on your lips.

When he turns you away from the water, your back to him as his own back is now showered with wet warmth, you immediately bend down. Your arousal hasn’t lessened since the actions that transpired in the bed, and Jungkook runs a finger through your folds once.

“You’re already so wet,” he praises. “My good fucking girl.”

“Like animals, right?”

He doesn’t offer a verbal answer - he answers in the physical, brushing his tip on your folds. It’s quite larger than the tip of his finger, and you shudder as your eyes shut as you brace your hands on the ceramic of the wall. The broad tip brushes past your lips before Jungkook pulls out, resting his dick between your ass cheeks.

“Like animals,” he agrees. “Like that first time I fucked you. In the living room of the cottage.” He pushes all the way in then, and you moan loudly, rocking forward. He grabs your hips, fingers digging in the supple flesh. “I wish someone would have found us there. Would have seen just how fucking hot you are when I’m fucking you.”

And then he’s pounding into you, so hard your cheek ends up pressed against the wall as you cry out your pleasure. Even through the haze that grows in your mind, you think about his leg - you know it doesn’t hurt like at the beginning, but whenever he fucks you like that, you’re afraid he’ll hurt himself.

But he doesn’t let you voice your concern. He’s quick to bend forward until he’s able to wrap your throat in your favourite necklace, tattooed fingers cutting the blood circulation to your brain until you grow so dizzy you struggle to stand.

He lets go of your neck then, but he’s still not done jackhammering his hips into yours. He’s a moaning and grunting mess, and the sinful melody of your name and the curses that tumble from his lips slowly guide you towards a new orgasm.

Slowly, yet when he pinches your nipple, hard enough to hurt, your climax hits at the speed of light, and your legs give out under you. You’re lucky he’s holding you up, though you shake through every powerful wave, his name the only thing you know.

You don’t think you need to know anything else anyway. There’s just him - there’s always just going to be him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses as your walls clench around his dick again and again, though the muscle grows weaker. When your orgasm leaves you empty and spent, Jungkook pulls you up so that he can wrap his arms around you again, and he litters soft kisses on the back of your shoulder and on your neck. “Let’s go back to the bed,” he whispers. “I’m not done with you at all.”

You whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you far too empty for your liking. He steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel that he holds open for you. You follow him out, and he wraps it around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he turns around to grab a towel for himself. You quickly dry yourself, and then Jungkook puts the towels on the hooks behind the door.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and he offers you a lovesick smile.

“Of course,” he says.

He grabs your hand, pulling you back to the bedroom. The candles still flicker like dozens of little ghosts, and though you’ve disturbed some of the rose petals already, they still await you. Uncaring about them, Jungkook brings you back to the bed, and he helps you lay down before joining you, lying next to you. His hand rests flat on your stomach, and you share a timeless look of pure love and adoration.

An eternity with him… When did you get so lucky?

Jungkook must have seen the yearning in your gaze because he climbs back on top of you, his weight a comforting reminder of everything he is to you. Still hard, his dick lays on your pelvis, and you look down at yourselves long enough to watch him align himself with your entrance.

“Look at me,” he asks before he pushes in.

Like a moth to the flame, you’re unable to resist the dive in his eyes that follows. So you dive deep, one hand on his cheek and the other on his waist. And when he pushes all the way in, you whisper your love for him. He stills deep inside of you, and presses one kiss to the side of your face.

“You’re mine,” he breathes, voice heavy with emotion. “My wife.”

The words clang through you repeatedly. Like Echo is screaming them back to you, making sure they are carved into your bones and etched into your soul. You think they have been before, but hearing him say it makes it real, seals the deal until your souls truly unite to be just one. Until your love for him expands, growing bigger than the universe, encompassing everything that once was you and everything that will now be you, plural.

“My husband,” you whisper back.

“I love you.”

He slowly pulls out, and then he softly pushes back in as he rests his forehead against yours. There is so much love between you and him that you feel like you’re drowning in the bliss of him, like you’ll forever be changed by this moment in time.

In truth, you know he’s already forever changed you. And as he makes love to you slowly, languidly, sensually, kissing you long enough to remind you that you made it, that you fucking made it through all the hurdles, you know that you forever changed him, too.

And isn’t that beautiful? The power that one’s soul can have over another’s soul? The stars agree - they’ve always known about you and Jeon Jungkook. Happy, they shine in constellations for the two of you, slowly making place amongst their ranks. Because the astral bodies know one day they’ll welcome you in the night sky you love so deeply - two new stars, once stardust and now burning, for the eternity that is yours.

But first, you have a very long road ahead of you. And though life might take one of you before the other, your commitment to one another is endless - even if one of you shines up above before the other, you’ll always be with each other.

So when you’re finally spent after a night of love making, of promises and forevers whispered into one another’s ear, you listen to his heartbeat. You listen to it, your favourite melody, even before you knew its existence. It’s beautiful, simple - strong and steadfast. Mostly, it is yours.

Before you fall asleep, you offer him one last promise -

“I will always love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

☆☆☆☆☆

The End. I am crying rereading this, I can't believe I started this fic as a sequel to @daechwitatamic's What Was Hidden fic and now I'm 223.9k words later into a story that will forever hold a special place in my heart. What did you guys think of it? Was the end fitting for our favourite couple?

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hisphoria · 6 months ago

Text

high society, lhs

synopsis: growing up in the high society hasn’t always been easy. being the eldest daughter of the y/l/n estate, you have now reached of the age to be married off to some other rich man that your parents have chosen for you. it’s not easy when all the candidates have these few rules for you.

1. as a loving doting wife you must stay at the estate almost always, making sure everything is always in order and planning balls and 2. you basically just get to do nothing and stand on the sidelines, just merely a decoration for your husband if you will.

you were ready for what this all meant for you. although you didn’t want any of it and you felt like you were going to lose your mind as soon as you got married, you were at least getting married to the man you have convinced yourself that you have been in love with for four years. You were to wed nikolaos another noble that your family has been close to since you were a child and naturally that childhood friend of yours became the only boy you had ever dreamt about.

there was one worry though.

and that was the fact that nikolaos was no different from the other nobles who just wanted a pretty wife to stand by them and nothing more. nikolaos truly wasn't a bad person and you believed he meant well, he just of course went along with typical society rules.

you began to rethink everything after you met the highest noble of the highest nobles, lee heeseung. after both of his parents passed, he of course inherited the entire estate to himself. the only other family he has being his grandmother who keeps on pestering him about the fact that he needs to get married and heeseung being one who has never had any interests in getting married... well, it's a difficult task for him.

he must find someone that will be willing to marry him just for the title. someone to marry him so his grandmother can finally stop bothering him. while this isn't a hard thing for heeseung to do since almost every noble girl of the ton would be willing to marry him, he needs someone who has no interest in him. someone who will not bother him if he doesn't even speak to them if they aren't at some social event.

and of course, he found that in you.

featuring: lee heeseung, sim jaeyun, park jongseong, park sunghoon, nishimura riki, kim sunoo, yang jungwon

status: currently writing. start: first chapter release 07/14/24. end: tba

genre: non-idol au, arranged marriage trope, enha as royals, victorian era?

content & warning: cursing, drinking, sexual humor, some toxic mentality maybe? (not really sure yet how this story is gonna go tbh), and lotssss of angst

a/n: this will be my first au so bare with me! i'm hoping this series doesn't take too long, first chapter should be out 07/14/24 not sure about end i haven't planned out the whole story yet. i will be linking and putting the chapters below when finished! :)

chapter 01, debut

#enhypen #enha #enha x reader #heeseung #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #heeseung imagine #heeseung fic #enhypen fic #enhypen series #heeseung series #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader

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zeroeightzeroone · 1 year ago

Text

lover of mine - bang chan

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

pairings: idol!bang chan x female reader

warnings: none

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~3k|moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"i'll never give you away, 'cause i've already made that mistake,

if my name never fell off your lips again, i know it'd be such a shame.

when i take a look at my life, and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that I think I got right."

lover of mine - 5 seconds of summer

you always thought that the next time chan would be making you cry would be at your wedding ceremony.

initially, you would try to hold in your tears, just enough so that you weren't full-on sobbing and ruining your makeup. eventually failing as the tears flow freely listening to the man tell you the moment he fell in love with you, the moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the promises he vows to keep forever. chan's eyes would never leave yours as you exchanged vows; in that moment, only you and chan existed, the proclamation and celebration of your love were the only things that mattered.

instead, here you are crying over chan. sitting in the driver's seat of your car, sobbing over the man who once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, now not wanting to fight for that future anymore.

…

"you're doing it again."

the sound of your best friend's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, attention now on the girl sitting across from you, "huh?"

she reaches over and places her hand on yours with a sympathetic smile on her face. no words are needed from her to make you realize what you were doing whilst zoning out; fiddling around with your ring finger. a habit you picked up after chan proposed, and a habit that hadn't changed even without the band on your finger; your fingers instinctively moving to spin and twist a non-existent ring.

"right," you clear your throat awkwardly.

your hands slipping out from under hers, sliding them under your thighs hoping that maybe sitting on your hands would work against the habit.

"how are you?"

the word 'lost' feels like an understatement. the word couldn't encapsulate even a quarter of your feelings.

you felt directionless, overwhelmed by the constant switch between emotions: anger, frustration, sadness, and denial, it left you exhausted. day by day, you only grew more emotionally drained, the desire to feel nothing only intensifying.

the mere thought of the dimpled man gave you whiplash, your heart and your head conflicting with each other and your feelings pulling you from one end to the other. you couldn't pinpoint exactly how you felt about him.

god, you wished that you didn't even think about him.

you wished that you weren't plagued by the thought of him at every waking moment. everything reminded you of him, everything brought you back to the memory of how easy it was for him to let you, the person he proclaimed to want to spend the rest of his life with, to watch them walk out the door, to just give up without a fight.

why couldn't it have been easy for you too? why couldn't you just let him go the way he did you? forget him like he meant absolutely nothing?

as much as you wished it was, you knew it wouldn't be easy to move on from chan.

your early adulthood started with chan, moving in with him almost a year and a half after you started dating. he became a part of your routine and you became part of his; there was a time when your day didn't feel complete without hearing a goodnight from him or getting that goodnight kiss. your lives were intertwined, and your future plans were intertwined.

you believed chan was your future. he made you believe that you would write the next chapters of your lives together, that you two would be side by side on the road to forever. you envisioned your future with chan, without him you've hit a crossroads, struggling to navigate where to go from here. you were scared.

scared to learn what the future holds for you, scared to take a step towards a future without him.

on top of all that came public attention.

the news about your breakup hadn't been confirmed by chan or jyp entertainment. regardless that didn't stop the speculations and rumours that came with the lack of seeing you and chan in public together, seeing you without your ring, and other proofs fans would dig up. the algorithm also working against you as whenever you refreshed social media, the first couple of posts would be news articles, headlines and what have you, discussing the speculations.

'did stray kids' bang chan and his long term girlfriend call it quits?'

'fans of stray kids speculate bang chan and his partner have called off the engagement'

'netizens react to alleged proofs that bang chan and long term girlfriend have split up'

'breaking: did stray kids' bang chan and girlfriend split up? here's why fans are wondering about the status of the long-term couple'

your comments were flooded with questions regarding the rumours, mourning fans hoping that they were baseless and haters congratulating you on setting the man free. you wondered why the news hadn't been spoken about by chan or any official representatives but the speculations drove you to log out of social media. the realization that one day the articles and headlines will change from 'speculations' to 'confirmations' the anticipation and anxiety driving you insane.

you look back up to your friend, your lips pursed together in a small smile as you reply:

"i'm fine."

…

"chan hyung!"

the boy pulls the pillow up and over his head, trying to block out the noises from outside the door. hoping that the longer he ignored, the realization that he wanted to be alone would sink in and everyone would leave him be. that hope was short-lived as the door swung open.

"chan hyung!" changbin calls from his spot at the door, "you need to eat something."

from where he's standing, changbin watches chan groan out a response from under the pillow, making no effort to get up and go eat something. changbin's eyes drift to the older boy's bedside table, a picture frame is lying face down (probably a photo of you), and sitting on top of the frame is a gold band with a large diamond: your engagement ring. the sight of the band sitting on chan's bedside table and not on your finger has a small frown adorning changbin's lips.

"hyung, i know it's hard but please. you need to take care of yourself too," the younger boy sighs, "locking yourself in your room won't do anyone good."

of course, it wasn't easy for them to see chan in such a state.

chan had always been the one putting up a strong front, walking around with his head up no matter the circumstances as the leader. but these past couple of weeks, whenever chan was out of the public eye he'd walk with his head down, dragging his feet, no words leaving him. almost like he's being forced to be anywhere outside of his bedroom.

the members in the other dorm were curious about their leader, wondering how he'd been holding up but chan stopped replying to the group chat. it got to the point where the members made a chat without chan, using that to ask jisung, changbin and hyunjin how the older one was doing.

for as long as you were in chan's life, you were also in the member's lives. the news of the breakup came as a shock to them as well. they were all curious as to how you were doing too, but were hesitant to ask you directly for fear of making things harder for you. you met all of them through chan, and seeing their names pop up on your phone may just be another reminder of your ex.

changbin's eyes are on chan as the older boy takes the pillow off his head, slowly sitting up on the bed, feet hitting the floor but making no move to stand up. instead he's slouched over, head in his hands and sighing.

"do you, uh…" chan's voice barely above a whisper, "do you think i made a mistake?"

changbin shuts the door behind him hearing chan's question, realizing right now his friend needed someone to talk to before, maybe, going to eat something.

leaning against the door, he replies, "what do you mean?"

"w– was proposing… a mistake?"

"do you feel like it was a mistake?"

chan shakes his head, "no."

"did you mean everything you said when you proposed?"

"yes."

"then it wasn't a mistake."

chan lifts his head out of his hands, head turning to the younger boy leaning at the door. even in the dim purple lighting of chan's room, changbin can see how glossy his eyes are, how the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent since yesterday.

"was… was letting her go," chan's voice shaky, "a mistake?"

changbin pushes himself off the door, making his way to sit next to his hyung on the bed. a comforting hand moving to chan's back.

"that's a question only you can answer," changbin's lips are pursed to one side, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he continues, "did it feel like a mistake at the time?"

"i- i thought i was doing the right… thing," chan's voice pitches higher at the end, questioning his own answer, "when i came home, an–and saw the dinner table, full of food she made for us. when she told me everything she was feeling, the look i-in her eyes."

chan loves your eyes, it's by far his favourite thing about you.

looking into your eyes had him falling in love with you before he even knew it. looking into them made it feel as if he was looking into your soul, almost like your eyes could tell him what your words couldn't. chan's day would immediately be flipped upside down just at the sight of your eyes, a shitty day becoming the best day when he caught a glimpse of those radiant, warm pools of life, your eyes sparkling with a zest and excitement for life that sent a wave of comfort over him. whenever he looked at you, that glimmer of hope in your eyes made him feel like everything would be okay.

but that night, the look in your eyes that night is seared into chan's memory. haunting him whenever he closes his eyes, whenever his eyes fall on your ring sitting on his bedside table.

that night when you told him just how lonely you'd been feeling, how you felt like he was treating you like the help and not as his fiancé; those words knocked some sense into chan. the harsh reality glaring him down: he had been falling short in your relationship. he had been so blind to that fact for who knows how long, listening to you had chan wallowing in guilt.

at one point chan felt like he was a third person watching everything go down, but it felt like he was watching you and a whole different person. he wondered why he wasn't saying anything, why he couldn't move, why he couldn't feel anything other than guilt eating him alive.

when he looked into your eyes, that's when everything came crashing down.

the eyes that once gleamed up at him, washing a wave of comfort and reassurance through his body were boring into his own. the contrast had his blood running cold. the sight of your hollow and dull orbs gazing up at him, even the sources of light around you did nothing to bring back that sparkle. the way your eyes looked incredibly sunken in, tired, swimming with distress as they searched his. he wondered how he hadn't seen the change before.

a change that happened because of him. the light in your eyes is gone all thanks to him. he wanted to be the one to preserve and make sure your eyes light up for the rest of your life, but instead he's the reason you look defeated. he couldn't handle the guilt eating him up at the sight.

"i-i broke her," chan whispers, "you could see it in her eyes how my shortcomings, the ones i was too blind and stupid to notice… that broke her. i broke her."

changbin doesn't say anything.

"i thought it would be better for me to let her go… get her away from me who was sucking the life out of her," chan's hands run through his hair, "she deserves so much more than me."

the older boy cries. his thoughts, feelings, everything just clouded with you.

"hyung," changbin's tone is soft, feeling out the atmosphere, "don't you think that it's sucking the life out of her even more, to be away from you?"

this time chan is the one who doesn't say anything.

"she wanted you to stay, she wanted you to convince her to stay."

"convince me to stay… please."

"i'm sorry."

"yes. from what you told us the day after you broke up, she does deserve better."

changbin's words send a dagger to chan's heart.

"but don't you want to be the one she deserves?"

chan's head turns to look at changbin.

"you need to work to be better, to be the one y/n deserves. that's what she wants, she wants you hyung."

"… m-me?"

"she wouldn't have said yes to marrying you if she didn't want you for the rest of her life."

…

your plan for the day was to wake up around noon, order some takeout or ransack your best friend's freezer for some food (and ice cream), chill on the couch and watch some netflix. instead you're jolted awake, at ten in the morning, by pounding at the front door.

rolling your eyes in annoyance, stretching your arm out, feeling around before grasping a pillow and clutching it over your head, trying your hardest to block out the noises and fall asleep. hoping the longer you hold out, it will give off the illusion that no one's home and come back later. a couple moments pass, a sigh of relief falls from your lips when the knocking stops, allowing you to loosen your grip on the pillow around your head.

maybe the neighbours got annoyed and kicked whoever that was out.

at the silence, you roll onto your side and shift your body around to get comfortable in the mattress. another long breath leaving your lips once that optimal position to fall asleep in is found, closing your eyes and getting ready to be lulled back into dreamland.

now you think someone is fucking with you.

the knocking starts up again, for a second you thought you'd fallen asleep and the knocking was continuing in your dreams but no. sadly, you weren't lulled back into dreamland like you hoped, the pounding in your head making it apparent that this was indeed, reality.

on top of all the things happening in your life lately, being woken up by a stranger relentlessly hammering the life out of their fist on your– actually, your best friend's– door is the kicker to a great day. a whine leaving your lips as you roll out of bed, pouting as you trudge to the door of the guest bedroom and continue your trek down the hall, towards the front door.

sure, you wouldn't have minded if your best friend, the person who lives in this unit, was actually home to answer the door. alas, she's at work whilst you're here; straightening out your pyjamas and plastering the fakest smile on your lips whilst you undo the locks, twisting the doorknob and swinging the door open.

"hello, mis—"

your jaw drops. posture immediately straightening due to the wave of tension that rushes through your veins, your mind comes up with two options: hide behind the door or run. your heart begins to race in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment but your feet are cemented to the ground. any urge you had to run away and hide quickly depleting at the sight of the man in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"chan… wh-what are you doing here?"

there he is: the man of the hour.

in front of you, in the flesh. standing a couple inches away from you clad in his usual all-black attire. you're avoiding his gaze but can't seem to pry your eyes off the bouquet in the man's hold.

a medley of red and white roses, baby's breath peeking throughout the arrangement.

"i- i needed to see you," chan's voice comes out husky.

shifting awkwardly on your feet, you sigh, "how did you know i was here?"

"multiple calls to your best friend and a long speech," he uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his lips.

'she's getting a long speech from me too.'

"okay, well…" you clear your throat, "you saw me so bye."

you go to shut the door but chan stumbles forward, holding it open as he stands in the doorframe. the gush of air from his sudden movements gives you a whiff of his cologne. that along with the closer proximity has a lump forming in your throat.

"w-wait, i wanted to talk too."

"y-you spoke and so did i so, bye," you choke out, trying to close the door again but to no avail as his body blocks your way, "please chan, what more do you want from me? don't make this harder for me."

chan reaches forward at the sight of a tear falling, wanting to wipe it away but you flinch away from his touch. your reaction has chan recoiling, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. you go to turn away from him.

"i made a mistake," he states, his words coming out rushed.

you gulp, angling your body towards the man again. this time your arms crossed over your chest, your gaze still falling away from his face. chan's throat clears when he realizes that you're not going to speak.

"that night, i shouldn't have let you go," he continues, "i should've told you, said something, said anything to convince you to stay… but… fuck. i- i was scared."

your eyes glance up at his face, only to look away just as quickly.

"you're probably thinking, of what?" chan runs a hand through his hair, "but listening to everything you said, everything that i was stupid, ignorant enough not to notice, all those things that i did– or, uh didn't do… that hurt you. it scared me to tell you i wanted you to stay."

your eyebrows furrow in frustration, this time your gaze stays on his face, making no move to wipe the tears running down your cheeks.

"listening to you, hearing how much i hurt you. i- i thought it would've been selfish of me to tell you to stay," chan's voice cracks, tears falling from his eyes as well, "i thought i would hurt you more if you stayed… that you didn't deserve that, y-you deserved so much more than me."

"god, chan.…" a bitter smile on your lips, "you saying nothing, letting me leave… a-and not fighting for me, for us! fuck… that hurt more than anything."

the memories of that night have your heart aching. whimpering as the tears continue to fall, the sight has chan's gradually getting heavier in his chest. he wants nothing but to pull you into his arms and to never let go.

"i know… i know. baby, i'm so sorry," chan's cheeks are soaked with tears but he makes no effort to wipe them away, "i'm so fucking sorry. i thought i was doing what was best for you, but i fucked up, i fucked up big time."

your eyes lock with chan's. glossy, tear-filled orbs gazing into each other, at that moment the tears only build until the both of you are crying a river in the hallway.

chan quite literally launches himself at you. throwing his arms around your body and pulling you into his chest. instinctively, your arms wrap around his torso, nuzzling your head into his shirt. bodies trembling and shaking as the both of you cry in each other's arms.

chan soaks up every single thing about this moment; the warmth of your body radiating onto him, your face nuzzled into his chest, the smell of your hair, the way your hands grip the back of his shirt, the feeling of your body pressed up against his. he isn't even sure that you'll take him back. regardless, he knows he wants to work his hardest to ensure he'll have you in his arms every day for the rest of his life.

in his arms, he holds the person who has been with him every step of the way and supported him day in and day out. the biggest mistakes chan ever made took place on that day: not convincing you to stay, not telling you how he loves you with his entire heart, and holding your engagement ring in his hand while he watched you walk out.

chan wants you to be so much more than just his past and present, he wants you to be his future, his forever. he's always wanted that but he failed at showing you, instead hurting you in ways he was completely ignorant of.

"i love you," chan cries, you can hear his heart racing in his chest, "i love you so much. if you let me, i'll work every single moment of every day to show you that. when i told you i wanted you for the rest of my life, i meant it. i mean it with my whole heart. i fucked up–majorly, but i swear to you! i swear i'll show you that i'm the one you deserve, that i can give you that life you deserve."

chan looks down at you, enveloped in his arms as your gaze naturally lifts to meet his eyes.

chan's heart skips a beat.

there it is.

that sparkle.

main masterlist

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buckets-and-trees · 5 months ago

Note

How would I’m Your Man!Andy react if he was in an AU where a mafia princess (or her father) forced him into a marriage without any say? 👿😡

Oh, the amount of hate sex that would happen! 😏😈

I imagine it being a scenario where instead of where we see I’m Your Man!Andy (in his deep 30s) this Andy would be maybe just-turned-30 and was moving up the ranks in the rival mafia's organization, one of the most consistent soldiers, but one of the other soldiers - someone Andy thought he was close to - murders the capo they both report to who happens to be the boss's favorite son - and frames Andy for the murder/betrayal/double-crossing.

Andy tries to get out of the city, but gets picked up by your father's men and brought in. He sees the value of absorbing Andy/demanding his loyalty in exchange for sparing his life.

Your father has been "hinting" that he's ready for you to start producing heirs, and he's wanted you to pick one of his men. You've been putting it off because you want to inherit outright, not be the mother of an heir or the treasure given to one of your father's men.

[THIS GOT LONG, SO THE REST IS GOING UNDER A READ MORE - BASICALLY I'M GOING TO TELL YOU A STORY BUT NOT WRITE IT OUT AS A FIC...IT JUST GOT LONG AND MY IMAGINATION WENT ALL THE WAY]

[ALSO TRIGGER WARNING FOR PREGNANCY ISSUES AND MENSTRUAL CYCLES]

He brings both you and Andy in to his office and offers the ultimatum: Andy agrees to marry you, or he gets delivered to the doorstep of his former boss who wants his head; you agree to marry Andy or you'll be cut off, exiled, and kept from ever seeing your mother or your younger sister ever again. To completely cement your union, the two of you must also produce an heir to secure the line of succession. Do it and the two of you are guaranteed his kingdom. Fail to do so, and when your sister graduates from college, he's marrying her off to one of his capos - which is something you swore to yourself you would never let happen. YOU were going to be the mafia princess - you were shrewd, trained, you even wanted it, but your precious, bright, innocent younger sister would be eaten alive by this life.

Andy has no choice, and in your mind, neither do you.

The two of you are moved to a private villa on the estate.

Your father sets the date in three weeks for a lavish, public wedding.

Andy hates that he was stripped of everything he worked for, and even though he hates you and hates that he's been given no choice, he sees the silver lining in being fast-tracked to the top of your father's ranks if he can prove his value and his new loyalty.

You hate that he's an outsider, you hate that he's going to play your father's game, and you hate that you'll be "his wife" when you wanted to be the one with the power.

There's a huge blowout between the two of you about halfway through the engagement that ends in some epic hate fucking. You split Andy's lip with the slap you deal to him, and though he's absolutely rough and brutal with you and your body, he doesn't raise a hand against you or do anything actually violent.

You goad and escalate each other during it because the more intense it gets, the better it feels, and both of you are too proud to drop the animosity.

So when the pent up sexual tension mounts for the following ten days until your wedding night?

Andy literally tears your dress off you the moment you're alone together.

You don't hit Andy again, but besides that, the vicious cycle of animosity continues for a good six months - avoiding each other, being constantly resentful and annoyed, and then boiling over and fucking it out.

But it changes when you're staring slack-jawed at a positive pregnancy test and Andy walks in on you.

Now the reality of a completely new chapter is undeniable, and it changes both of you fundamentally.

He's forceful and growly about it, but Andy wants a truce. If you're really going to have a child, he doesn't want that child to grow up in a violent and angry home like he did before his dad went away to prison. You don't want that either.

So the two of you agree to make a go of a peaceful and tolerant partnership.

You took the pregnancy test pretty early - you had only been a week late, felt nauseous for a few days, and took the test as a precaution. Since it was so early, you were a little shocked, and you didn't want anyone else to know yet - which Andy agreed to - you didn't make an appointment to see your OBGYN straight away.

A few weeks later, you start bleeding, get freaked out, Andy takes you to the hospital, and miracle of miracles, you find out you were NOT pregnant before - the test was a false positive (rare, but can happen), and your body was stressed and skipped a period.

Both of you are relieved everything is relatively okay, but the ordeal and the few weeks of détente before changed the dynamic of your marriage.

Andy takes you home, tucks you into his bed, and in the morning he says he doesn't want to go back to how things were - not the hateful phase, and not even the tentative working phase you two had just been navigating since the potential pregnancy. He proposes the two of you try to be partners in marriage for real. He doesn't want to be miserable for the rest of his life, and it's not even a grudging acknowledgement when he says he actually has developed a hell of a lot of respect for you over the last six to eight months.

And you have to admit he's garnered the same from you - exponentially since the day of the pregnancy test and his agreement to handle it at your pace, and for taking absolute care of you with the panic the night before.

It's slow-going, and the hate sex stops.

Two months later, there's a real kiss between the two of you.

On your first anniversary, Andy holds your hand during your first ultrasound and the OBGYN gives you the surprise revelation that it's twins, and he looks at you like you've hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber #andy barber imagines #askpen #aspen wrote something #siri

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holdmytesseract · 1 year ago

Note

Hello sweetie!!!

Good to know that you've opened requests because do I have A WONDERFUL request for YOU!

Okay okay, of course for me I'm going to request Loki so here goes...

Loki and Reader are arranged to marry and have never met before (either Reader is a princess or just a lady). The day of the wedding, reader suggests a first touch with her fiance - how could Frigga deny that? So they do it. Then, when they see each other at the altar, it's as if the world stops for them both.

I left it a bit vague so you can expand but I am so excited to see what you make of it! I love you so much and please do DM me if you need something 🫂🥰❤️

~LRM

Marrying a Stranger

Loki Odinson x fem!Princess!Reader

Summary: You are arranged to marry Prince Loki of Asgard. Fear and pre-wedding nerves get the better of you and you can't help but ask Frigga for help. Of course is the good-hearted Queen more than willing to help out...

Warnings: arranged marriage? angst, fluff, sweet Loki

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: I actually wanted to post a new chapter of 'Through the Years' today, BUT the birthday of my wonderful friend @lady-rose-moon is definitely more important. 🥰 Therefore, I'd like to post this lil' oneshot as a gift. 😊 Again, happy (belated) birthday, friend!

Ps. I'm also incredibly sorry that his took me so long to write... I hope you like it nevertheless! I love you, too! 💚

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds (Continuing in the comments!)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The day had arrived. The day you looked forward to in excitement and anticipation, but also with fear and nervousness. Your wedding. Your arranged wedding, to be precisely.

You were a princess. Only daughter of the king and queen of Vanaheim. And due to the royal blood pumping through your veins, you were not allowed to choose the man you'd marry. The man would be chosen for you. At first, you didn't approve of this and were literally appalled by the mere imagination of marrying a strange man you had never seen before, but your mother and all your tutors had quickly put you in your place.

There was no way out of this - and you had to accept that. It was your fate. Your destiny. The destined path for a princess.

This is not of importance, sweetheart. You don't have to meet your future husband, in order to marry him.

A few centuries ago, when you had reached womanhood, your marriage was arranged and announced within the kingdom. You were bespoken to king Odin's and queen Frigga's youngest son... Prince Loki of Asgard.

Throughout all the years you had never met your betrothed.

That is the man I shall marry?

That was what your mother had answered to your question if you could meet the prince you were going to marry.

So, the topic was off the table. You had been taught to obey your mother, so why would you dare to ever ask her again? The decision was made. No meant no. You only ever heard stories of your future husband... That he was quite special - and not in the good way. Most people spoke of his mischievous and cunning nature. Some even said villainous, brute and rebellious. To hear those words scared you.

You had dreamed of true love and romance. Of being courted and wooed. You dreamed of a sweet, kind man who would treat you like you deserved - and not of a brute who would treat you like his maid. You spent endless sleepless nights within your chambers, thinking about your future with Loki. What if he truly was just a harsh, mischievous scamp? What if your dreams were about to shatter?

And now, suddenly the moment had come...

But then you started to hear other stories of Loki Odinson as well. About how charming and witty he is. How gentlemanly and eloquent. And how utterly handsome he shall look.

You were torn. Torn by every story they told you - and the worst part was that you never got to find out what the truth was and which talk was cheap. At least not until the day you would marry him. It left you a mess.

You were standing in a huge chamber in the royal palace of Asgard. The room bustled with maids, who were preparing everything to get you ready for the wedding ceremony. You nervously fumbled your fingers; constantly tugging at the soft fabric of your wine red dress. Your mother had just left the room along with your father; leaving you and your troubled mind alone.

From the first encounter with Frigga, you could tell that she had a heart of gold. She was so kind and lovely. Perhaps the most good-hearted person you ever met. You got along with your future mother-in-law instantly. She had welcomed you with open arms. And right in that moment, you couldn't picture another way out.

You couldn't deny the anxiety any longer. It hit you full force; realisation dawning on you like the sun... I can't marry a man I never saw in my life.

So, you decided to order a maid to fetch the only person you hoped would be kind enough to help you. Queen Frigga. The Allmother. You and your family had arrived about a week ago and even in that week you never got to see Loki. Only the king and queen. Not the princes.

Frigga gently took your hands in hers and led you over to the bed; sitting down with you. "What is the matter, dear? The fear within you is stronger than your nervousity. I can feel it." You swallowed hard, "I- It's... It's just..." and had to take a deep breath. "I'm afraid of marrying a man I never saw in my life. I-I know that this is not of importance and probably even forbidden, but-" A radiant smile forming on the queen's lips interrupted you. You furrowed your brows; were confused. Even more when she started to chuckle.

Only a few moments passed, before the young maid returned to your chambers; following the queen.

"Y/N, my dear..." She immediately walked up to you. "You called for me?" You just nodded; anxious eyes meeting Frigga's beautiful blue ones. "I-I did. Could we... Could we talk in private?" "Of course!" She reassured you, then clapped her hands twice. "Would you all please leave and give us some privacy?" All the maids stopped in their tasks and immediately rushed to leave your chambers.

"My son requested the exact same. Barely before you called me to your chambers, I sat with Loki and spoke about this with him as well. I guess you are quite similar in that case." She chuckled again and reached for your hand again. You just stared at her; not quite believing what she just said. "I understand you, dear. I couldn't do such a thing either. Back when I had to wed my husband, I demanded to at least see him and share a few sentences with him beforehand as well. It helped me to adapt to the situation I was in. Therefore, I can't deny yours, neither my son's wish." Frigga stood up and offered you her arm. "Come on."

You swallowed hard; feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest, as you approached the little pavilion.

You blinked; were utterly speechless. You knew Frigga would understand you, but that... That wasn't something you anticipated to happen. Still a bit stunned, you stood up and took her offer. She led you out of your chambers, down several hallways you had never seen before, until you were outside the palace and had reached a beautiful garden. She stopped, nodding towards a small pavilion quite a few meters away, which was surrounded by rose bushes and cherry trees.

"My son is waiting for you in the pavilion." Frigga let go of your arm and gave you a smile. "You have about an hour before the maids will return to get you both ready for the ceremony. Make sure to be back at your chambers by that time." With a wink and a soft pad on your arm, she turned around and left.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Carefully - almost shyly, you peeked around the corner.

A man was standing in the middle of the small pavilion, with his back towards you; hands clasped behind his lower back. You could see that he was wearing a green tunic and black leather boots. Gold accents highlighted his whole outfit.

He had long hair - as black as the feathers of a raven. It fell in soft curls over his shoulders. Your gaze climbed up and down his body. He was tall. Norns, he was so tall - and his hands were big. You could tell. They would swallow yours whole.

"H-Hello?" A dark, smooth and slightly high-pitched voice spoke. "A-Are... Are you Princess Y/N?" You could tell by his voice that he was nervous, too. Probably even afraid - just like you.

You didn't even notice how your mouth fell agape. Or how you made another small step forwards; totally enhanced by the God you saw standing in front of you.

Barely after you set one foot in front of the other, a small twig snapped underneath the weight of your body. You flinched - and the man quickly turned to face you; flinching the slightest bit as well. The gust which was created by Loki's quick spin was sent directly into your direction and no second later, his scent hit you; invaded your nostrils... Leather, something dark and musky, charred wood and a slight hint of mint and something fruity. It smelled so rich, so divine, but also so addictive and cosy. You almost fainted.

You needed a moment to get yourself together. "Y-Yes, I-" Your words faded into a gasp as your eyes met his for the first time ever. He had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. Blue like water and as deep as the oceans. They held so many emotions. Nervousity and fear, but also curiosity and excitement. But above all kindness - the same kindness which sparkled within his mother's eyes.

Loki smiled and took a few cautious steps towards you. "It is my utmost pleasure to meet you, my princess." He gathered a bit of his bravery and hesitatingly reached for your hand, taking it gently in his. With a soft bow, he bestowed a small kiss upon your knuckles; soft, smooth lips brushing against your cold skin. A shudder rippled through you.

"The- The pleasure is a-all mine, my prince." You more or less stammered out, now utterly distracted by his chiselled facial features. High cheekbones, sharp jawline and a perfectly shaped nose. Norns, you thought. He looks like carved out of marble.

Loki gave you a smile. "Thank you for agreeing to this little... secret meeting. I-I just had to see you before the ceremony, I-" You gave his hand - which still enveloped yours a soft squeeze. "I know. I felt the same way." A nervous chuckle left his lips, followed by an even bigger smile. "That makes this situation so much easier..." You reciprocated his smile. "Indeed, my prince."

You took a seat on the small, cosy bench and decided to use the time you had left to talk and get to know each other at least a little bit, before you'd become husband and wife. It was exactly what you - and Loki needed. But especially, it calmed your fears of marrying a brute, despiteful man. They had been wrong... Oh so wrong. Loki was not like that. He was like you hoped he'd be. Kind, gentlemanly, sweet - and utterly romantic. His heart may be battered and bruised, but you could feel that this man would do everything to be a good, loving husband for you.

The hour flew by way too fast; within the blink of an eye and soon it was time to part ways - for now.

"Thank you, my pri-" "Loki. Please... It's Loki for you." That made you blush even more - if that was even possible. "Thank you, Loki." You smiled. "I can't believe I'm going to be wed to such a handsome, polite and sweet man either."

"Again... Thank you for agreeing to this." Loki said; voice soft. You shook your head. "No need to thank me. I wanted this, too, you know..."

Silence settled over the both of you, until he let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "I can't believe I'm marrying such a beautiful, kind-hearted woman in barely a few hours." You blushed in the darkest shades of crimson at his words; suppressing a girlish giggle to slip past your lips.

That caused Loki to blush.

A nervous chuckle bubbled from deep within his chest. "Thank you-" "Y/N." You interrupted him. "Y/N." The way he rolled his name off your tongue almost send you into another dimension - you were sure of it.

His words hit you straight into your heart. You could swear it was aflame by now, burning for this man you knew so little, but were going to wed in a few hours.

"Are you still nervous?" Loki asked then; eyes soft. You nodded. "Y-Yes, I- I'm afraid it's going to get worse..." You giggled nervously; desperately trying to play it cool, but failing.

He took your hand in his again; gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "I know this is normal. I-I am nervous, too, but... Please don't worry. You are not alone in this. I'll be there - and I won't ever let go of you."

You took deep breaths; smiling brightly. Now you could say that you were really looking forward towards your wedding. For the first time in centuries.

"T-Thank you. That is really reassuring to know. I-I won't let go either." Loki smiled, "That's good to know, my darling." and leaned in for a delicate, small peck on your lips. It was gentle and barely lasting - but it felt so right. So good.

Before you were able to answer something, his hand slipped from yours as he was passing you by; stepping out of the pavilion and out of your sight.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." Your mother said with tears in her eyes. She placed her pointer finger underneath your chin. "It's time for you to enter the next chapter of your life. A lot is going to change, I know - but your whole life was spent preparing you for exactly that moment. You're a strong woman, Y/N. Never doubt that. And Loki is going to be a wonderful husband. He's the perfect match."

By now, you had to fight off the tears as well.

Your mother leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. "I'm so proud of you, just like your father. I love you." You smiled; swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in your throat. "Thank you, mama. I love you, too." She gave you a loving, motherly smile and left to sit with the other wedding attendants.

You took a deep breath and with the sounds of the fanfare, you stepped through the golden doors and slowly walked down the red carpet towards Loki - who stood at the altar; dressed in his ceremonial armour, waiting for your arrival.

All eyes were on you, but you only had eyes for your prince.

When his eyes landed on you, they widened immediately; his mouth falling agape. He watched how your wedding dress swayed softly with each step you took.

She looks absolutely beautiful, he thought; feeling his heart beating rapidly against his chest.

It was all you needed in that moment.

You walked slowly, gracefully - like you've been taught. It felt like an eternity, until you finally reached him.

Loki immediately stretched out his hands for you to lay yours in his - and you did. The moment you touched, it felt like you could finally breathe normal again. His skin was so soft and warm; giving you the feeling of warmth and comfort. For you, his touch was a safe haven. He was anchoring you; preventing you to get lost in the sea of no-man's-land.

You looked up. His endless blue eyes met yours for the second time - and time seems to stand still around you. In that moment, it was only you and him.

You smiled and finally weren’t afraid anymore of the future. Not if it involved the man right in front of you.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson

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lostbookmark · 2 months ago

Text

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Whispered Vows Masterlist here

Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Reader Just Needs To Speak Up.

A/N: I know I just posted chapter 5, but I'm in a good mood. Here is chapter 6.

Chocolate cake is perfectly moist, raspberry filling a touch too tart. You write down your thoughts on the provided worksheet the bakery supplied you after you swallowed the chocolaty goodness. You have been looking forward to your cake tasting for weeks now. Now, as you sit at the table with ten beautiful cupcakes before you, it just feels empty. Your eyes turn to look out the window and see Yoongi pacing up and down the sidewalk in front of the bakery while on the phone with Namjoon, running his hand through his hair. He promised that he would help you with this, but once again, here he is working. Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You just wanted this one day with him, and he couldn't even give you that.

Reaching out, you grab the next sweet confection, cut into it with your fork, and take a large bite. Vanilla cake is moist and sweet, lemon curd filling has a perfectly smooth texture, and vanilla buttercream is not too sweet. Favorite by far. You place your pen back down and sigh as you swallow that bite. You look at Yoongi through the window again and see him hang up the phone before entering the bakery. Sitting next to you, he opens his texts, and you see him message Hobi something. Your eyes drift back to your notes, and you think you might go with the vanilla.

“You can go,” you tell him softly while still focused on your paper but not really reading anything. You just wanted to make sure your handwriting was neat and legible. This would be a nice little keepsake.

“Hmmm,” he says, still looking at his phone as his fingers fly across the screen. His face is scrunched in pure concentration as he rereads what he just typed. “What? What did you say?”

“You can leave,” you say louder, looking at him, and his head finally snaps to you. “You clearly don't want to be here, and I don't want to force you to be here. You can go.”

“I took the day off to be here,” he tells you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why would you say that? You know how hard it is for me to make time for anything right now. We should be lucky that I am even here right now.”

“You took the day off? Did you really?” You question him and sip on your water that was provided to you to cleanse your palate.

Yoongi hasn't touched his water nor his worksheet. He probably hasn't even looked at the cupcakes that the baker worked hard on. The beautifully piped buttercream and colorful fruits and chocolate pieces were probably not appreciated. You appreciated them.

“I'm right here,” he argues and touches his chest with both of his hands to prove the point that he is indeed there. "I'm sitting right next to you."

“No, you're not,” you whisper. His phone rings again, with Namjoons name popping up on the screen.

“There is something wrong with our software at the studio. We lost a bunch of files,” he explains, gripping his phone tightly when the ringing stops. “You just don't understand. This is really bad.”

“I understand,” you tell him, nodding your head. “I do, I get it, and I said you can go.”

“It's not like I wanted this to happen,” he argues a bit too loudly, causing the bakery staff to look over at your table out of curiosity. You want to shrink away from embarrassment at their stares, and he quickly changes his tone. “We just lost weeks if not months of work,” he said much more softly. “All this time that I had to be at the studio, working all those long hours. It was all for nothing.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach as he starts getting texts in rapid succession, his phone continuously chiming. It rings so loud in your ears. You're tired. You haven't felt this tired in a long time. Not since that night you thought he was cheating on you. You're tired of dealing with this wedding and making these damn choices. You're tired of worrying about him. You're tired of sleeping alone at night. You're tired of being patient. You're tired of being tired.

“Yoongi,” you say and take a deep breath. “Please leave.”

“That's not fair,” he said. “This isn't my fault that this happened.”

“I…I don't care. I want you to leave,” you tell him as you turn back to the baked goods and take the card in front of the next dessert. Chocolate cake, salted caramel filling, and chocolate buttercream. “This experience is ruined. I'm just going to choose a stupid cake that you don't give a shit about and be done with it.”

“Y/N,” he says your name softly.

You ignore him and take a bite of your next pastry. Picking up your pen, you get ready to make your notes. Yoongi’s phone rings in the background, and you can hear him swear. Cake is a little crumbly. The filling is delicious with the right amount of saltiness, and buttercream could be a little sweeter. You can hear him sigh loudly before he gets up from the table and walks out of the bakery. You breathe deeply through your nose and blink rapidly, trying to stop the tears that threaten to fall.

“Is everything okay over here?” The owner and head baker asks as she approaches the table quite cautiously.

“Yes,” you say, giving her a small smile. “I'm ready. I think I have decided.”

“Oh, perfect,” she says and claps her hands together lightly. “I'll go get my tablet. We will get you ordered and get you scheduled on the calendar.”

Your smile drops as she walks away. You are such a liar. You are not ready. Not even in the slightest.

“I'm calling the wedding off,” you say as soon as the door opens.

“I'm sorry….WHAT?” Jisoo says clearly in shock. You push past her and enter her apartment, making your way to her couch where you collapse face first into the cushions in exhaustion. “I think that I heard you wrong. Please say that again and maybe more slowly.”

“No,” you said, your voice muffled by the cushion. You don't even bother looking at her. You know she is looking at you like you are crazy. “You heard me right.”

Jisoo sits on the floor next to the couch and moves your hair out of your face. She gently continues to stroke your hair in a comforting manner. You close your eyes and relax into her touch. She smiles sadly as she looks at you.

“I don't think you really mean that,” she tells you softly as she pulls her delicate hand away. You huff out a breath of irritation and sit up on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest. “Tell me what's going on.”

“He's been so busy, and I don't see him that often unless I make the effort to go to his studio. Then, I just end up cleaning the studio for him. I finally got him to help me with the cake tasting, and work still came first. I don't know if I can live like this forever,” you tell her. “I don't know if I want to.”

“Have you talked to him about this?” Jisoo asks, moving from the floor to sit next to you on the much more comfortable couch.

“Not really,” you admit, shaking your head. “I just miss us. I miss how we used to be before he got all busy, and the studio became everything to him.”

“Relationships change,” Jisoo tells you. “You may have hit a small rough patch now, but is it worth throwing it all away? After everything that you have been through. Do you want to throw it away?”

“Sometimes, I look at you and Seungkwan or Lisa, and Jimin and I get so jealous. You get to go out on dates and sleep next to them every night. You get to have real conversations and homemade dinners,” you explain to her. “I get to go home to a frozen microwavable dinner and a television for a companion. Sometimes, it's like he doesn't even exist, and it feels like I'm back on my own again.”

The door to the apartment opens, and you see Seungkwan enter. You watch as he takes off his shoes and hangs both his coat and bag on a hook, protruding from the wall before entering the room. He spots you on the couch and gives you a contemplative look.

“Well, that explains it,” he says and walks away to the kitchen.

“What?” Jisoo asks her boyfriend. You can hear the refrigerator open and close before he walks back out with a bottle of water in his hand. “What explains what?”

“I needed something signed, and Yoongi…well…he was grumpier than normal when I went to his studio. He also, kind of…” he trailed off for a few seconds. “Looked like he had been crying. Maybe? Does he do illegal substances?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head at him.

“Then he was definitely crying,” Seungkwan confirms.

On one hand, your heart sank as the words Seungkwan just said sank in. Had he been crying? Maybe you were too hard on him. Maybe you shouldn't have kicked him out of the bakery. You guess you probably could have been nicer about it. On the other hand, it just made you even madder. You were suffering too, and you still don't think that he cares. If he cared, he would have turned his phone off and stayed with you today. However, he didn't. He left. He left you there alone to order one of the plainest wedding cakes there probably ever was. He left in his car, leaving you to take the bus to Jisoo's.

“Can you please give us a minute,” Jisoo asks her boyfriend. Without a word, he walks down the hall and into the back of the apartment to the bedroom. You don't speak until you hear the bedroom door shut.

“Do you think….” You trail off in a small voice. “Do you think I should be getting married?”

Jisoo wraps her arm around you and pulls you down into her lap. She once again moves her hand to your hair and gently smooths it away from your face. She doesn't answer your question right away. It probably takes her a full two minutes before she finally speaks.

“I can't answer that,” she tells you, and it makes you clench your teeth in frustration. “I won't tell you not to marry him. It's okay to be jealous of me and Lisa and our relationships. However, I get jealous of you, too. The way that Yoongi looks at you, Y/N. Jimin and Seungkwan don't look at us like that. Yoongi looks at you like he would hang the moon for you. He would burn the world down for you.”

“I know he would,” you say as a tear drips down your face.

“If you don't love him, then I say don't marry him. If you do love him, then I say fight for him. You tell him how you feel and you fight,” she says seriously.

“I already told her to talk to him weeks ago, but no one ever listens to me," Seungkwan called from the back of the apartment. You and Jisoo start giggling and sit up to look at her. Her nosy boyfriend clearly had been listening to your entire conversation. “I would also hang the moon for you too, Jisoo.”

“Please don't tell Lisa about this. I don't need her saying anything to anyone,” You look at her, hold your pinky finger out. “Jimin loves gossip just as much as she does.”

“I won't. I promise,” she said softly and wrapped her own pinky around yours. “I promise.”

You checked the apartment first but you were not surprised when you found that he wasn't there. Now, you stand outside of his studio door, not sure if you should ring his doorbell or enter the code and walk in. You look up and down the deserted hallway before you slowly raise your forefinger and push the doorbell. Standing up straight, you wiggle your fingers that hang loosely at your sides as you wait for him to open the door. Your heart feels like it's going to pound out of your chest. You take a deep breath through your nose and slowly release it out of your mouth. Again…again…again.

“Y/N?” Jungkook says as the door finally opens and loud rap music flows out of the darkened room from the speakers.

You look over Jungkook's shoulder and see Yoongi look at you from his chair in surprise. His hair was disheveled and sticking up in all sorts of directions. He had changed into black track pants and an oversized white hoodie. They were both wrinkled, and the hoodie might be a little stained. You'll have to try and wash it for him later. Hopefully, you will be able to get the stains out. Yoongi stands from his seat and stares at you but doesn't say anything.

“Umm, can he and I have a minute?” You ask Jungkook, who still stands in the doorway. “Unless you're too busy.”

“NO!” Yoongi exclaims as he takes a few steps away from his chair. “Kook was just leaving.”

“Yeah, I was just leaving,” Jungkook agreed and nodded his head. “Everything is all set now. Have a good talk, bye.”

Jungkook practically runs out of the studio and down the hallway, nearly tripping over his own feet. Yoongi catches the door with his hand before it closes and opens it for you again. As you walk in, you notice that it was pretty cluttered with several discarded white styrofoam carryout boxes on his table and couch. A small pile of dirty laundry sat on the floor in the corner of the room. You can't even begin to imagine how long they have been there for. You know that you haven't been by in a while to clean up for him, but this was ridiculous. It even smelled a little bit, and it made you scrunch your nose as the stench hit you. Yoongi dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck as he caught your facial expression. Good, he should be embarrassed.

“Is everything…” you trail off and motion to his work space.

“Oh, yeah. We got the files back pretty quickly, thankfully. I hurried back to the bakery, but you were already gone.” he explains.

“Oh,” you say softly and continue to look at his mess.

“You weren't at home either,” he tells you, and your eyes went back to him. “I figured you probably went to Lisa's or Jisoo's.”

“Jisoo's,” you confirmed. “Seungkwan said he saw you today. He said it looked like you had been crying. Were you?”

“He's got a big mouth,” Yoongi snaps, turning away from you. He pushes his chair, and it goes rolling across the room before hitting the wall. It makes you jump just a tiny bit.

“Were you crying over me or the lost files?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He asks, turning back to you. “You think I would cry over work. Baby, I hurt you. I hurt you, and I took you for granted. You take care of me, you have been planning this whole wedding by yourself and I can't even do one damn thing for you.”

“Yoongi,” you say with a sigh and drop your arms.

“No, it's true,” he argues. “I don't even know why you are still with me. I would have left me a long time if I were you. Jungkook is even surprised that you're still here. Jimin tells me all the time that Lisa is worried about you.”

“Do you want to marry me? Be honest with me,” you plead.

“Yes, of course I want to marry you. I want nothing more than to be yours…forever,” he assures you.

"It doesn't feel like it,” you say, kicking a stray chopstick that was on the floor. “It feels like you don't care about the wedding at all. You’re always so busy.”

“Do you want me to quit? Make Namjoon buy me out so I can work some crappy, dead-end 9 to 5 job? Have us both worried about making ends meet? Working paycheck to paycheck?” He asks, throwing his arms in the air out of exasperation.

“Now you're the one not being fair, Yoongi. If you can't figure out how to balance your life with me and work, then maybe…” you say, but he immediately cuts you off.

“Stop right there,” he growls at you and points his finger at you. “Don't you dare finish that sentence. I am trying my best.”

“I don't know how much longer I can do this,” you tell him as you will yourself not to cry. You want to be strong. For once in your life, you just want to be strong and not run away to lean on someone else to help you. “If I knew how alone I would be all the time I….”

“Stop!” he says loudly. “Don't you think I get lonely too? Don't you think that I miss you? It's not easy to live like this. I get that!”

“THEN WHY CAN'T YOU JUST COME HOME!” You scream at him.

Immediately, you feel guilty for yelling. The two of you both stand there, glaring at each other, breathing hard. A large lump has formed in your throat, and your heart starts to race once again. The tension in the room is heavy and thick but not in a good way. It's never been this way between you two, and you don't know how to climb and claw your way out of it. The music in the studio changes over to something slower and almost melancholic. It feels fitting for this moment.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry. I'll clean up,” you whisper as you turn toward the messy couch.

“No,” he says, grabbing your hand, pulling you to him, and you let him. You don't want to fight him anymore. It hurts too much. Your heart hurts so freaking much.

Yoongi guides your hands up and around the back of his neck, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself right up against you. Yoongi buries his face into your neck, and you rest your own on his shoulder. He gently starts rocking the two of you back and forth. Dancing? Dancing to that slow beat pouring out of his sound system in the middle of his dimly lit studio. His arms and hands cling onto you as if you are his lifeline. Like he would drown if he were to let go of you. You lift your face and kiss the side of his neck softly, lips barely touching him. Yoongi pulls his face back and rests his forehead against your own. Your bodies are still gently swaying side to side in your own little world.

“Please, don't leave me,” he gently begs, “I promise I'll do better.”

“Don't make promises that you can't keep,” you say, looking right into his eyes.

“I promise,” he says again, leaning toward your mouth. You close the gap and gently kiss him on the lips. “Tell me to quit, and I will. Tell me to run away with you, and I will. Do you want to move to Paris? Our own little island? I'll make it happen. I would do anything for you.”

Jisoo was right. He would probably burn the world down for you.

“I know you will,” you tell him and lay your head against his chest. Yoongi rests his head on the top of your head. Your bodies still sway with the music. Dancing. Dancing in your own little world in the middle of his studio. “I know you will.”

Tagged Readers:

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos, @notarshia, @busanbby-jjk

#bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi au #min yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #bts min yoongi #min suga #min yoongi #suga bts #suga fluff #suga bangtan #yoongi fic #yoongi #bts suga #suga #suga smut

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