#and im so different! and im still the same!!! and floor still creaks! and i miss my best friend!!!! and that house has strangers in it!!!

[professor-pants]

i love stick season (we'll all be here forever) so much but i also love that so many people also love stick season (we'll all be here forever). Cause like we're all sitting here thinking about our hometowns and our families and our friends and our lives in this very specific but unextrodinary but beautiful and tragic way. Like the specific feeling of winter!! In the north!!! In your home town!!!! And the ordeal of living your life with this collection of experiences. Especially if you have left your home town or heaven forbid, returned to it. Thinking about who you used to be!!!

i love this

[libingan]

— woven from shadows.

summary: two killers meet in the shadows of an abandoned warehouse. one is a master of charm and deception, the other, a figure shrouded in menace. despite their differences, one thing remains clear: they’re both cut from the same dark cloth.

a/n: IM ALIVE!! ive had this idea for DAYS yo, im so glad i can finally write again!!!

enjoy some killer! simon x killer! fem reader teehee

might make a part two, but it rlly depends on how much this shit eats

the warehouse is a relic from a forgotten era, its rusted metal frame creaking under the weight of years. the broken windows filter in sickly beams of moonlight, casting long, jagged shadows across the dust-covered floor. piles of rotting wooden crates and rusting machinery are scattered around, relics of a time when this place was alive with the hum of industry. now, it’s silent, the only sound the occasional drip of water from a leaking pipe, a steady rhythm that seems to count down to something inevitable. the air is thick with the scent of rust and decay, a perfect place for someone like you.

you’ve spent the better part of the night weaving through the labyrinth of the warehouse, playing with your prey like a cat with a mouse. he thought he could hide from you, but they all think that—right up until they don’t. the thrill of the chase had your blood singing, a familiar rush of adrenaline and anticipation. you left him bleeding in a dark corner, his gasping breaths echoing in the silence as you walked away. it was a clean kill, but nothing special. just another body to add to your collection.

but something feels off tonight. a sense of unease has been gnawing at you since you arrived, something in the air that doesn’t sit right. it’s like you’re not alone, like there’s someone else in the shadows, watching, waiting. you’re not sure what it is, but it pulls you deeper into the warehouse, toward something—or someone.

and that’s when you see him.

he’s just a shape at first, barely visible in the gloom, but there’s something about the way he moves that catches your attention. he’s not like your usual prey—there’s no panic, no desperation. just calm, calculated steps, as if he’s been hunting you just as much as you’ve been hunting him. it sends a shiver down your spine, a thrill of excitement that you haven’t felt in a long time.

as you step into a large open space in the heart of the warehouse, where the roof has partially collapsed, allowing a shaft of moonlight to spill across the floor, you finally get a good look at him. he’s tall, broad-shouldered, wearing tactical gear that’s seen better days. his face is hidden behind a skull mask, the hollow eyes staring back at you, unreadable. but it’s his stance that really catches your attention—rigid, controlled, like he’s ready to strike at any moment.

he’s like you, you realize. cut from the same cloth. a predator in a world full of prey. but unlike your usual targets, he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t show any sign of fear or hesitation. if anything, he seems... curious.

you smile, a slow, sly grin as you step closer, deliberately drawing his attention. “fancy seeing someone like you here,” you say, your voice light, almost teasing. “i thought i had this place to myself.”

he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even move. those dark eyes behind the mask stay locked on you, watching, waiting. the silence stretches on, heavy and suffocating, but you don’t let it get to you. you’ve dealt with the strong, silent type before. you know how to break them.

“let me guess,” you continue, circling him slowly, “you’re one of those types who thinks brooding in the dark makes them mysterious. but me? i prefer a little conversation before things get... messy.”

still nothing. his silence is almost unnerving, but you push through, trying to get a read on him. there’s something about him, something that tells you he’s not just another killer. he’s more than that, something darker, something dangerous. and it makes your blood sing.

you inch closer, testing the waters. “tell me,” you whisper, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, “what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this? looking for someone, maybe? or are you just here to watch?”

and that’s when you feel it—the cold press of steel against your throat. the knife is sudden, swift, and it takes everything in you not to flinch. instead, you grin, a slow, wicked curve of your lips as you stare up at him, eyes gleaming with defiance. you’ve met killers before, but this one... this one is different. this one is like you.

his voice is a low, gravelly growl when he finally speaks, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “you talk too much.”

you don’t falter, meeting his gaze with a smirk that’s all teeth. “and you don’t talk enough.”

for a long, tense moment, neither of you moves. the knife stays where it is, a silent threat, while your heart pounds in your chest. but fear isn’t what you feel—no, it’s something far more dangerous, far more intoxicating. the thrill of a worthy opponent, of someone who won’t break so easily.

slowly, deliberately, he lowers the knife, but his hand doesn’t leave your skin. instead, he tilts your chin up, forcing you to hold his gaze, as if daring you to make the next move. the tension between you crackles, electric and suffocating, and you know, without a doubt, that this isn’t over. not by a long shot.

you’ve finally met your match. and you can’t wait to see who wins.

[thesnakeslibrary]

True Zending

Pairings: The Narrator/GN Reader Type: Hurt/Comfort Summary: After suffering through Zending, The Narrator notices crying coming from outside of the game.

" Is it over? It’s going to restart, isn’t it? I’m going back. "

Moments after The Narrator finished speaking, everything faded to black and left the two of them –him and Stanley– back in the office. The Narrator leaned back in his chair, the only sounds in the room being the leather creaking and his breathing. " Why did Stanley have to take that from me? " He let out a frustrated sigh as he shook his head, sitting up straight to begin his repetitive narration. But he couldn't. Stanley was not moving, simply staying in the same spot, frozen.

" Stanley? Are you alright? " Though feeling betrayed and heartbroken, The Narrator still cared for Stanley's emotional well-being. The unusual sound of shaky breathing and crying was all he heard in response to his question, although it hadn't come from Stanley. It sounded like his own narration, not originating from anywhere specific but feeling as though it was coming from inside your head.

That was when he realized it came from the player. It didn't come from Stanley, no, no, no. It came from the person controlling Stanley. It came from you. " Um...player? Are you alright? " He was only met by more shaky sobs. He sighed and pushed some keys on his computer, transporting you into the game somehow. The writer had it carefully set, so you would appear in his office, but the sorrowful sight he saw utterly broke his heart. You, in a tight ball on the floor, hysterically sobbing. "I’m so fuck–fucking sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry…I didnt want to I prom–promise I didnt, I couldn't do–do anything else the game–the game wouldn't let me I promise im so sorry, I want you happ–happy I promise…"

Apologies poured from your mouth like water from a broken dam, you not having seemed to realize you were directly in the parable. You only became aware of the fact when you felt large hands gently position you upright, the inviting face of The Narrator in front of you. You darted around the room, incredibly confused, "Wha-huh? Why— h–how—?" You sniffled, temporarily distracted from your sorrow and guilt, it was mostly replaced by confusion.

" Shh, shh...you're okay, I'm here. " He extended his arms as an invite for a hug if you desired it, and boy did you. You hastily shuffled towards him and squashed him in a tight bear hug, shedding your tears into his buttoned jacket. The Narrator stroked up and down your back, his other hand running through your disheveled hair. " You're okay, I'm okay. " "But–But I hurt you, I–I, I made you think I’d–I’d rather be dead than play–play your game…I’m so fucking sorr–sorry…" He frowned and tenderly lifted you into his lap, resuming his caressing. " As far as I can tell, you did not want to. You didn't have another possible choice, and I don't condemn you for that. "

Your head was tilted until your eyes met, an ink-stained hand on your cheek, wiping away falling tears. " It is alright. " His soothing voice instantly pacified you, leaning your head into his calloused hand as you shut your eyes. His lips formed a soft smile as he pressed a prolonged kiss to your forehead. You choked back a sob, the key difference between this one and your previous cries being that this one was formed out of joy. The charming man you've been repeatedly playing this game for, the man you've been pinning for, was right here in front of you. You could see and touch him. You no longer have to imagine his appearance.

He did happen to look like you envisioned, though, with short black and gray hair, glasses, and rough yet kind eyes. You leaned forwards and nestled your face into the soft fabric of his turtleneck. You sucked in a deep inhale, melting at the intoxicating scent of the man holding you. Everything about The Narrator was comforting; you couldn't find a single thing you would alter about him. Well, except for the fact that you lived in two separate worlds. Just as you finished that thought, the Brit spoke, " Would you like to stay here, darling? I would thoroughly enjoy your company. "

Good lord, you completely turned into a puddle at his kind words. You nodded, not trusting you would sound put together if you spoke. The taller of the two of you grinned and once again lifted your gaze to meet his, " May I kiss you, my dear? " Fuck, you virtually turned into a ripe tomato at his words. It seemed to delight him quite a bit. You forgot to give him any sort of response, the inquiry seemingly having fried your brain. " Well? " He let out a soft chuckle, lifting a hand to tenderly caress your cheek.

You once again chased after the affectionate touch like a cat, almost purring like one as well. You gave out a faint murmur as a yes, eliciting a smile from the old man. He leaned down to place a loving kiss on your lips, and you happily reciprocated. He would've continued kissing you forever if you didn't need to breathe, reluctantly pulling away. He touched your foreheads together, pure fondness in his eyes. " Lord, I've only properly known you for but a few minutes and I'm already entirely captivated by you. " He smiled in amusement at how his words flustered you. " I suspect you've felt that way about me for much longer, hm? " You nodded and leaned up to kiss him, letting out an annoyed whine at being unable to reach his lips.

He chuckled and bent down to close the gap between you two, placing a gentle hand on the back of your head. " You are truly something irresistible. " He concluded his sentence with a quick peck on your lips. You beamed and wiggled closer to him, resting your head on his chest. He slowly stood up with a groan, carefully holding you in his arms. He strode back around to his desk, seating himself in his worn-out leather chair. He reclined with you in his arms, happier than he had been for a while.

" On second thought, that astral dome was not the sole thing that made me happy. I undoubtedly have that right here in my arms. " If your face could've flushed even more, it would have, you wiggling your legs in ecstatic joy. The Narrator continued, beginning to ramble. " Now that I'm really contemplating it, I suppose I've been infatuated with you since the very start. Ever since I had realized it was not Stanley that I was narrating, it was then I began falling for you. " 

This was exactly something you had been longing for since you initially heard The Narrator's lovely voice. Being comfortably held in his lap while being able to listen to him ramble on to his heart's content. Unfortunately, your ability to listen to him slowly dampened as his velvety voice lulled you to sleep. Once you're just about to cross into the land of dreams, you hear one last thing uttered to you, followed by a fond kiss.

" Rest well, my love. You're safe here in my arms. " The Narrator gave a soft smile as you closed your eyes.

[silentwhsprs]

━━━━━ marthas diner 3 , miles morales

miles and his family are dining in at your workplace, he embarrassed you infront of your entire class, remembering that miles has been missing out on a lot of spanish, so you're using that to your advantage.

this part may seemed rush for the lack of transitions, but im debating to start a enemies to lovers with miles but it would be a fast burn but not like a really fast burn, they’re hatred for eachother would be gone after a few chapters :((. just lmk if u would want me to write that!

“Miles?”

You felt multiple waves of emotion wash past you, you felt the world change colors. You debated whether you were happy, sad, shocked, surprised?

“Surprise?..” He chuckled nervously, his phone ringing abruptly is what killed the moment again. Before he could pull it out, you grabbed it and answered it.

“Hello!?” You shouted angrily at the culprit. “¿Con quién está hablando, señorita? ¡Mientras contesta el teléfono de mi hijo, te encontraré!” (Who are you talking to, miss? As long as you answer my son's phone, I will find you!) A voice shouted angrily back. You immediately knew it was Mrs. Morales. You handed the phone over to Miles scratching you neck.

Miles glanced at you before being scolded by his mother, he came up with a thousand excuses before she finally believed one. Where he said Gwen had answered it and with a reply of “(Y/N) is better, hijo.”

Little did she know, Gwen was far from picking up that phone.

“Now allow me to feel things Miles,” you started. “Look, I know what you’re feeling. I don’t even know how I’m feeling most of the time-“ Miles comforted.

“No you don’t. You are Spiderman. I’m just a basic civilian girl with no cool abilites to save Brooklyn, I never ever have the same opportunities as you. Plus, you have a police captain father running through your blood.” You ranted, Miles’s mask still laid on the floor. The fabric picking up debris that was chipping off the roof of the wall.

You walked toward your bed and sat down, he followed. He sat next to you and grabbed your hand. “You’re not basic. You never were.”

“Yeah-“ You began again, you were cut off by Miles bringing you in for another kiss. This one was different, as if he tried to calm you down. You put your hand on his cheek.

The creaking of the door didn’t stop the moment, the figure stopped in place and took surroundings of your room.

“Santo inferno! Nostra figlia esce con un uomo ragno!” (Holy Hell, Our daughter is dating a Spiderman!) A deep voice shouted, you two immediately pulled apart as Miles grabbed his mask and put in on!

You stood up to cover Miles, “No, papà. Questo non è quello che sembra! Non è l'uomo ragno. E non ci frequentiamo! Hai sbagliato tutto.” ( No, dad. This is not what it seems! It's not Spider-Man. And we don't date! You got it all wrong.)

“Créeme mamá!” (Believe me, Mom) You cried out, dying to protect Miles identity. Miles quickly stood by your side, except he had his mask on and deepens his voice. “I’m not Spiderman, Mr. (L/N). I’m just a cosplayer for ComicCon!” He tried.

“Vita mia, guarda questo pagliaccio che cerca di fingere di non essere Spider Guy!” (My life, look at this clown trying to pretend he's not Spider Guy!) Your father chuckled.

You grunted and rolled your eyes, this is not how you wanted your father to meet Miles. Your mother was leaning against the table addressing the Mail that was delivered today. She knew her daughter like the back of her hand.

She knew that her daughter had liked Miles, so she definitely knew that Miles was Spiderman. He needn’t to worry. His secret was perfectly save in The (L/N) Familia.

Miles stood froze doing the jazz hands positon, finally your mother spoke up. “Miles, quítate la máscara. todos sabemos que eres tú ahí abajo. Te prometo que no diremos tu identidad, pero mantente a salvo salvando a Brooklyn.” ( Miles, take off your mask. We all know it's you down there. I promise we won't reveal your identity, but stay safe by saving Brooklyn. ) She smiled, ripping open the paper that was addressed by Visions Academy.

“Mamma Mia.”(Oh Mamma!) You whispered. Miles slid off his mask and sat next to you. He put his hand over your shoulder. How could somebody else’s parents know about his identity but not even his own. Life was fucked up.

“You speak Italian?” He asked. You looked up at those honey eyes. “Yep, My dad was born in Italy then moved to America. My mom was born here except she was born and raised in a predominantly Puerto Rican area which is why my family and I know Spanish. I do have some Spanish descent though.” You explained. (idc if ur black, white, yellow, green, this is for the story.)

“Well, that’s funny. But what are we gonna call this?” He asked again, making circular finger motions around you two. “I want to get to know you better, then we can call it official if everything works out. Which I’m sure it will. And, as long as Gwendolyn Stacy stays out the picture completely. Because I’m not afraid to regañar a una chica blanca por meterse con mi hombre, especialmente cuando es mío.” (scold a white girl for messing with my man, especially when he's mine.) You smirked.

Your mom walked by the door frame and snapped a picture, “¡Le envío esto a Río para que me pague!” ( Im sending this to Rio so she can pay me! )

You and Miles looked at each other in shock, “Y’all betted on us?!” You both shouted in sync.

“Sabes que la hicimos.” (You know we did.) Your mom and Rio shouted in sync back giggling.

that’s it y’all! martha’s diner is wrapped up! remember to reread my top note about the enemies to lovers! lmk what y’all will and wont read! bye loves.

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / chapter IV : western wind that lulls the last spark

You don't have to drink tonight, why don't we just get some sleep? 'Cause I'm tired of crying in driveways As you slur the words you speak I know growing up has been an evil thing to you Makes you awful hard to love from a lover's point of view

And I'll never understand how you wound up in the shape you're in But I'll always be the fool who fell for you in your burning skin I'll be praying for you and pining for you And hoping you get some rest But from a lover's point of view it's all been hard to watch at best

•

'Cause from where I'm standing you got a long climb ahead I'll be there to wipe the vomit when you cannot lift your head 'Cause a lover doesn't leave when times like these get dark I'll be there to watch the sunrise when we reclaim your heart

And I'll pick you up downtown when you're grinning with a busted lip 'Cause you're not known for backing down And those boys are known for talking shit But now's about the time, look, you really got to decide Are you gonna be a good man to me or die the way your mother died?

•

notes : im weaponizing my writing, (/j) consider this a warning because this drove a stake to my heart.

🏜️•••••••••••••••••••🌾

5/27/23

1:48am

The stars shining through the window were like coke particles scattered on the dark black bedsheet stained with beer and sweat the first night they hooked up. All the dirty secrets they hid from their teammates were like the western wind that took them from the pool to the bedroom, and that took them away from their friends. The high beams burning down backroads, Jamie's tears and spit trickling down the cold window glass, and Trevor's perma-stoic and lifeless demeanor were all part of the high they chased. Or used to chase. Who knows anymore, because Trevor tried to stay sober but jamie couldn't even hold himself back? It was almost like the promises he made didn't matter at all, and like he was just a bluff; or a letdown. Jamie made it hard to love himself, even from Trevor's point of view. Through the boy's eyes who tolerated him and stuck with him through everything, even if he thought he didn't deserve it. But everyone deserves someone, right? Not in Jamie's case. His problem is whenever he thinks he doesn't deserve something, he goes and ruins it.

Trevor's problem is complicated. It isn't a problem in his eyes, but it should be. After every single slip-up and mistake, he goes running back to jamie. Running back to him, picking him up, and piecing him back together under the western starlight. Jamie is constantly on the porch swing of Trevor's mind; when he should be sitting on a porch swing watching the sun's final cresting, lying in his arms. Jamie didn't have any jagged edges other than his words. He was soft in all the right places until he turned it to stone. His jamie wasn't reckless. His jamie wasn't fake. His jamie wasn't trying to hurt him. Since he was so filled with rage it made it hard to tell the difference between his altered personality and what he really was.

Trevor wants him. He wants the old jamie back. People change, and they're supposed to but this time it wasn't for the better. When they were simple and taking things one day at a time, that was the better. He remembers sitting there, a rainy night in upstate new york in a well-used chair; telling him and reminiscing over the bullshit they used to pull as kids. The forest wind would call them home and make them feel like they did, and all the people who came to watch them fall didn't stand a chance. When they knew one was home by a certain creak in the floor that changed pitches from the weight of their step.

The kids back in Ontario would talk about jamie like some kind of legend when a thousand sunrises ago he was just as ambitious and wild as them. Damn well different, but still the same; just morphed into oblivion.

Trevor could write all he wanted and bleed his feelings out onto a page, but even if he cried until his little lungs turned blue; jamie would still be alone without the secure, subtle 130lbs next to him in his bed. He wasn't going anywhere. Even if he did, jamie would go a million and one miles to find him.

He knew he would need to eventually.

Nothing gold can stay, as they say.

Trevor picked up his ballpoint pen, ready to pour his thoughts out on a page; like his old therapist taught him to.

It started off empty. Just words. Keywords. Questions. All in the same form of 'Why' or 'he promised me' or 'I'm trying to get better.

Then he found it.

When you're brought into a burning relationship you think the whole world is on fire. It is. Your world is on fire. I wasn't brought into a burning relationship per se, but I was always told I was the one who brought it alight. When you're young, dumb, and easily influenced it can be a good learning experience. In my case, it's quite the opposite. Fucking damaging with a pretty exterior exoskeleton. So similar to a flame. This made me think I was the one who caused this relationship to go up in flames, and that it was never initially on fire, but rather I was the match. I cut and rip myself apart to find what it is inside me that made me into that burning match. But matches always need friction and oxygen to strike a flame. After what felt like being suffocated for who knows how long; there was still oxygen to light the match inside the relationship. But the match has always been me. We should've burnt it down and watched as the door slammed and we walk our separate ways. But you're my twin flame. But I'm just a lit match to your gasoline. I wish I would've let it burn.

These words wouldn't have made sense to jamie and his foggy, unclear conscious. But it would have to be Jamie with fire in his eyes. It was Jamie's name that made Trevor drink so much that he forgot his own. But he couldn't leave. If he left, he wouldn't have circular burns on his back from jamie snuffing his joints. He wouldn't have his forearms slashed into nothing but ruined flesh. Everyone always said Trevor was a cocky twentysomething-year-old, and he was lucky his front never showed what went on where they couldn't see. Jamie never explicitly said it was Trevor's fault, but he took unneeded responsibility anyway. He took false accountability for the fact he kept running back and feeding the flame. Jamie would have been lying face down in a bathroom stall with his depression medication empty now if it weren't for Trevor staying by his side through hell and back, albeit. Still, Trevor doesn't remember who he was before jamie. It's always been them or nothing. Jamie would hold him when he cried in his arms about other boys, cause even when he was young and bold he couldn't ever tell him he wanted more with him. How he had a fiery pining hunger for a future with Trevor.

This isn't the future he meant.

Jamie lay still and cold with his head leaning against the tear-streaked windows. He watched with soulless eyes as Trevor scratched and scribbled words in his messy handwriting in a spiral notebook, which he no longer recognized. Trevor used to write about his feelings around him. Not often anymore, but he would tell him about whatever he wrote when they woke up and weren't so hit-and-miss. They parked on the gravel driveway of their ranch home, where there was nothing but mountains in the distance rolling for miles. It was pitch black and the summer air was heavy and dry. Some crickets chirped; the sound is lost in the breeze. Trevor hung his arm out of the window, staring down at every thought he poured out that ate at his bones for the past hour. It was silent. It, as in his head. For one time in his life, he was numb. He used to feel; but now that he couldn't, he missed it peculiarly. Not that he missed wanting to die, but feeling the weight of his emotions and his stress being carried in his sinuses, making it hard to breathe. The raw thoughts on his page didn't mock him the way they used to. The weight was temporarily lifted off his shoulders, other than Jamie's obvious low-vibrational presence. Trevor could feel jamie eroding away next to him, just like goddamn Lake Missoula. He could sense the way jamie was clawing his way out of a hole, but he could feel the water drowning him. He wishes he could drain him out like the prehistoric lake, and let him breathe for once. Trevor's efforts were futile, for once; when his presence wasn't enough anymore. Jamie loved being around him, but it was almost like he was corroding from the inside; being eaten and burned from the inside out. The old Jamie would be grinning at him with a busted lip, cause he isn’t the type to back down; and that stupid fucker he fought is the type to talk shit.

''James.'' Trevor broke the silence, closing up his notebook. His voice was in the back of his throat, scratchy and tired.

No answer. Just the dreary beaten soul that occupied his body.

''Please Jim. Just say something. Anything at all and it would be enough.'' the older boy tried to coerce him.

''I'm not enough, I'm such a fuck up. And don't even give me the 'you're enough' bullshit, because I know you're just lying to me.'' the raven-haired boy choked as some lingering tears fell and disappeared in his untamed stubble around his jaw.

''You know I don't lie to you.''

''…''

Jamie didn't want to accept the truth. But he knew Trevor would lie to him, even if it meant being brutally honest and telling him the entire truth when it might not be what he wants to hear.

''Well.. With the shit, I pulled.. And the drinking, it damn sure feels like it.'' his self-deprecating words hurt Trevor more than they hurt jamie. He understands why jamie is saying this, but now the numb feeling was gone and he just felt a punch in the gut with every insult Jamie beats himself with, but the blow always was transferred to Trevor since that's what he was used to.

''Sobriety isn't easy, we both know that. '' Trevor had close to nothing left to give. But he would give pieces of himself to Jamie.

''I want you to leave.''

''What..?'' Trevor's voice broke. It was unexpected, a sudden kick to the throat. His whole world came crashing down at that moment.

''I said I don't- I can't have you around, Trevor. All I do is disappoint you and you give me so much just for me to fuck up and throw it in the trash. You can't keep doing this to yourself.'' Jamie was apathetic. He hardly ever cried when he was drunk, but his slurred words sounded like he was on the verge of breaking down. Sure, he was vodka-soaked; be that as it may, his words held truth.

''James..''

''It doesn't need to be right away. But it needs to happen. We can't heal like this. We can't even go on and function with each other.'' Jamie was right. Jamie fucking Drysdale was right. Trevor was stuck in an endless cycle, and if he wanted to get better, he had to recognize leaving might be the best choice right now.

''I don't want to. I can't, Jamie!'' He absolutely lost it. He wasn't calm and collected like on the drive home. Yet he wasn't cocky and loud either. He just shattered.

''I know. I know. I.. Don't want to either but we need to leave this behind. Leave this fucking trainwreck behind us..'' Jamie started to cry as he said this, holding back sobs. It was his turn to be strong for Trevor, after all that his best friend has given him. Or his boyfriend. Whatever they were.

''I'll always love you but, maybe it's not the time for that now.''

''At least… Have me one more time. Before we go. One last time. For real, now.''

Who knew words could hurt the same way being slowly burned and tortured could? Of course, they would still have each other because cutting the string that connects two souls is impossible; but maybe they have to make some decisions if they’re gonna help themselves. A lover doesn’t leave when times get dark, but a lover might have to stray so they can love each other the way they should.

Hopefully, it would be the last time. Maybe it was time to drown it in kerosene and chuck a Molotov at it. The final dance. It was gonna be a burn, a slow burn for that. Burning down the building they created from the ground up, watching each weak support beam crumble and collapse in front of them.

One.

Last.

Time.

[bratkook]

right now. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost , right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung​ for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3

The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day. 

“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!” 

Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily. 

The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really. 

Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me. 

He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs. 

By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again. 

A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place. 

Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping. 

With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub. 

“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”

“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you. 

“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.

“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”

He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”

With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food. 

“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are. 

The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container. 

It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops. 

You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too. 

That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt. 

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings. 

Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work. 

His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers. 

Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral. 

You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time. 

“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her. 

“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener. 

“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup. 

“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.

She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”

“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions. 

“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully. 

“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide. 

“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”

“Does he know?”

“That I like him?”

“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help. 

“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”

She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.” 

You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are. 

Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault. 

“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”

“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile. 

“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her. 

“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”

Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”

The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners. 

“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table. 

“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”

“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling. 

Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.  

When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”

“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal. 

“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”

He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“

Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“

“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”

“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”

“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”

Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”

Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound.  “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”

A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”

Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination. 

“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped. 

“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”

Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”

“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”

“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain. 

“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”

A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.” 

It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him. 

“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels. 

One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”

Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”

Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night. 

He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed  the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie. 

The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom. 

Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out. 

“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up. 

“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”

“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.” 

Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice. 

“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night. 

It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below. 

“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation. 

“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier. 

“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“

“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long. 

The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close. 

It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time. 

This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way. 

With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be. 

He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?

As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it. 

For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior. 

“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over. 

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically. 

“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened. 

When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it. 

“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up. 

He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom. 

You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life. 

She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best. 

Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow. 

However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I get the vibe that somethings off.”

He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”

The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”

A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”

“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator. 

The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected. 

The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying. 

With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely. 

Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.

Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you. 

Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?

You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response. 

Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie

Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake

The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages. 

It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them. 

“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away. 

“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal. 

“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you. 

“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”

Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand. 

“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way. 

“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself. 

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I���m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”

“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up. 

“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”

“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”

“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times. 

He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse. 

“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start. 

“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking. 

“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?” 

It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono. 

“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”

He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”

“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”

“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory. 

“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”

“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”

“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“

“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream. 

You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will. 

Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”

Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion. 

“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”

“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“

“It’s you.”

His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence. 

“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you. 

“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush. 

Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”

“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”

His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”

Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right. 

“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult. 

“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face. 

“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”

The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. 

“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it. 

“Mm, no you don’t.” 

His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss. 

With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck. 

He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.

“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.

“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him. 

“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you. 

Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”

Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this. 

“Say that again please.”

You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours. 

“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more. 

“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.

“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.

“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps. 

“No teasing.”

Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation. 

Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch. 

His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you. 

“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart. 

Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be. 

The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name. 

“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away. 

The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out. 

“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips. 

“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him. 

“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”

A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it. 

“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm. 

His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips. 

“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own. 

Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets. 

“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way. 

“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless. 

Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up. 

“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”

“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you. 

As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.

Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.

Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now. 

“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips. 

Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before. 

“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.

“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Anything.”

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”

Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.

“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.

Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.

If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized. 

His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his. 

Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.

“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.

“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.

“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”

You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached. 

Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.  

“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace. 

As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks. 

Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him. 

“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.

A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.

With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”

“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans. 

“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”

You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.

He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.

His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager. 

“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”

“What, why?”

Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”

The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”

He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”

Fuck.

“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it.  “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”

His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”

“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”

“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.

Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.  

“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.

“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too. 

Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”

The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop. 

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you. 

“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 

Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.

Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.

[freshmanyearhistoryteacher]

history male teacher X female student

at school, after class or in a free period

SFW, just some fluff, like a first hug or talking about books ? im desperate for something soft ^-^'

ALL CHARACTERS ARE OF AGE.

Warning, Contains: - spoilers for dead poet society - fluff (cuddling) - more teacher perspective but kinda both?

Word count: 1, 592

I’m sorry it’s so short it’s late and the last day before I start uni 💀 This is also my 40th story :)))))) epic

When she arrived at class that day, he had had to turn away before he blushed or smiled too wide. It wasn’t something he could explain nor was it a feeling he could pin down. She just had this… effect on him. Like when she walked in the room, his day would get better and the sun seemed to shine brighter. She would merely wear her hair in a different style and it sent butterflies through his stomach or derailed his entire lesson plan.

Today, she had clearly forgotten her jacket because her arms were snapped tight to her body, rubbing the smooth skin of her upper arm. Her face was flushed across her nose which crinkled as she laughed her way to her seat near the back of the room.

This was his favourite lesson. Four days of the week, they had a study period together and, in at least two of those classes… the other students would neglect to attend. He knew he should be mad because well, he was trying to run a class. But the way they talked and laughed made up for the disappointment in them ten fold. It was his favourite classroom too. The walls hadn’t yet been ripped down and replaced with blue plaster so, the boarding of dark wood still ran around the bottom half and around the chalk boards. Even the floor made more noise when you stepped on it, the wood creaked with ever shift you made in your chair. The paint had yellowed slightly from a blinding white to a beige, cream that softened the rays of sunlight that occasionally peaked through a slim window across the top of the furthest wall.

In an uneven voice he called;

“Good morning, miss.”

He sounded nervous even in his own ears but she was kind and smiled her usual smile anyway as she said goodbye to her friends and set out her books. It was obvious to everyone but him that she was shy in the same way he was. That she had also darted her eyes away when they nearly found him at the front of the room. That her friends also laughed at the way her steps became lighter as she walked to his classes.

“Hi,” she eventually said in an equally uneven tone that made his stomach swirl and twist.

“You must be cold,” was the only thing he could come up with, and his hand nearly smacked himself in the face. The weather? After nearly a year of conversations and hours spent together? She huffed a laugh through her nose and nodded, still shivering. “Here,” he said, making his way across the room without giving the idea any thought. His jacket wasn’t overly comfortable and was more for the formal dress code the staff room teachers always expected but, it was better than nothing. He gently placed it over her shoulders which were drowned in the fabric. It was at least 2 sizes too big and looked entirely too good on her for him to make any snide remarks.

For a second he swore the blush of her wind blown cheeks deepened but he looked away to avoid staring and found his place on a desk next to hers. It was silent and they both knew they were getting too comfortable but, she smiled with shining eyes and he didn’t seem to care.

“Uh thanks,” she all but whispered, “I’ve uh, nearly finished that book you mentioned.” She fished around her bag for the tiny copy of ‘dead poet society’ she had stored away and spent far too much of her other class time reading. “It’s good… really good. I watched the movie too- it just seems so….” She was at a loss, there was so much that the book seemed and had come to mean between them.

“It’s only of my favourites,” he meant back to lean on his hands, “sometimes working there seems better than here but I think an all boys school would be, in the nicest way, a VERY difficult situation to teach in.” He chuckled to himself shaking his head.

“No I can’t think of anything worse, but the characters-“ she pressed on, and they talked for the better part of twenty minutes. This poem was better or, the school was wrong and right or, the boys all deserved better than to be forced into a perfect image by their parents … it didn’t really matter what they said.

A knock at the door broke it all. The atmosphere of comfortable disagreement and bashful insults. The way her body had curled into the scent of his jacket and how much closer he had leaned throughout the period.

“Open,” he said jogging back to the front. The door swung open with a heavy thud and the face of a terrified first year appeared.

“Sir, mister, s- I mean.. so, miss Tr- miss Tracy wants to know if you have a um, a uh, spare whiteboard marker?” The poor kid babbled. But he was gone within seconds when the pen seemed to appear out of nowhere in his hands and the door swung softly closed.

“Is Miss T ever not losing her pens?” She questioned at the man standing shaking his head at the door. His tongue clicked in agreement and he made his way back, eyebrows slightly creased as if he was debating something life threatening.

“Are you o-“ she began with concern but was cut off.

“Come sit,” he motioned, throwing himself down on the never used couch against the back wall. Whoever had used this room years before had left it here and, the hassle of moving all the tables and chairs with the potential it wouldn’t fit through the door seemed too much. It was only a two seater but he waited to see her reaction. She seemed tense, her shoulder raising as soon as he asked. They had sat together before, with their hands awkwardly locked in their own laps and eyes glued to the ground while the class ran through random improve situations. This was different though. His arm was stretched across the back of the seat and, if she moved, she’d wind up tucked into his side… in his jacket…. Stealing his warmth … maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She pulled her lip into her teeth with hesitation, silently debating.

Would it make it awkward? She was cold so… would they keep talking normally? She really didn’t want that to end.

“It’s ok I promise, you’re cold and it’s more comfortable than the plastic chairs so- why not?” He smiled it off easily but inside his mind was sounding alarms with flashing sirens. This was a stupid, rash, unprofessional idea. But to his shock she nodded and picked up the book from her table, covered the few steps to the couch, and ever so slowly placed herself beside him. Without even meaning to, her head was nearly resting on his shoulder and her legs were bend beneath her, making her smaller in his hold. He wasn’t breathing, but nearly was she. Both of their hearts hammered and she cleared her throat too many times in a row. The red in her cheeks definitely deepened this time. The number of times she had dreamed of being this close, cuddling, holding each other…

She coughed. “Thanks,” she muttered, twisting to find a comfortable spot before leaning her back against him and using the arm of the couch to plant her book. She just began reading, and it blew his mind. She was acting like it was casual while his heart nearly ran out of his chest.

There was still an hour of the class left, with his head leant back against the rough pillowed fabric, staring up at the roof. His arm had long since slid to find its way around her waist and, without a word from either of them, she slowly turned back around and shifted into his side. Quietly they both prayed he had remembered to lock the door before they sat back down because there was no way to justify resuming this position.

He was sat frozen while her hot breath tickled the side of his neck and send goose bumps rippling across his skin. His fingers toyed with the ends of her hair and the buttons on the too big sleeves of his jacket.

“ if we shadows have offended, has to be one of the best written lines ever,” she huffed and broke the silence before it lapsed again. It wasn’t uncomfortable, more familiar and warm. It felt like a warm coffee in the middle of a winters day, like a hug from a friend you hadn’t seen in months or, a weighted blanket in front of a fire while it rained outside. He felt a spark light in his heart but he pushed it to the side and let his eyes slide closed.

Her head eventually rested entirely on his chest and her book slid from her hand to the floor as they slept in a feeling so hard to achieve. Complete peace, love, warmth, the feeling of home, friendship, something more and indescribably perfect. Students ran around outside, yelling, laughing, crying, making fun of each other. Teachers grumbled as they lugged too much paper to each new class, the top sheets covered in snow from the few journeys made between buildings. But they rested, holding onto each other in the small, two seater armchair in the back of some classroom.

[pufflocks]

omega bokuto ( change the character to whoever you wish too ) who's in heat and is surrounding himself in a 'nest' which consists of his boyfriend's clothing. he can't help but rub against your boxers as he imagines himself being fucked by you. he wants his big strong alpha to help him. he desires your touches, your kisses and your dic-

idk if this is how requests work i- im sorry if i did it wrong bby and i can change it to sfw or something else if you want

Summary: This is beautiful, hush up. I gotchu original gangster I gotchu. 🤝

Warnings: NSFW { omegaverse } • proof read

Cast: Alpha!M!Reader x Omega!Bokuto

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

When you left to pick up groceries for your omega, whom was by the way in his early heat. You've mated in the past, but somehow this particular week has already started off extreme.

Your inner gut was wary of leaving Bokuto home, but the house has been empty of food so now you are where you are.

Currently your omegen lover was in a huge cluster of laundry. His very old baby blanket, a stuffed animal specifically for these occasions – and last but not least, your clothes.

Some people would much rather wash any type of clothing that belongs to their significant other. He was a bit different. He likes the musky smell of your athletic wear and the ting of sweat from your hoodie that you wore in summer. You of course did that on purpose - your pheromones coming off more pungent and terrific if you did sweat. Wouldn't have another way if you asked him, since any cologne you wore throws him off completely.

Back to the restless omega himself however — more than restless. He was deathly slick in his shorts making it slip and glide down his very spent legs. Koutaro's legs honestly felt like a sore thumb along with his throbbing member. Doing the same damage just as his arse, leaking clear juices everywhere.

Raspy breathing could and would be heard if another soul stepped into your guys room as he bites his peach lips in earnest of letting go any type of call for his alpha. How he wanted you right here with him, though he knows you left just for him. It doesn't make it any better though.

"Mm‐ I want m' alpha." His mumbling is a near cry for help as the irritating pain is exquisite to his joints. He needs you now ! Rubbing himself is now very uncomfortable because the cloth of his boxers is making his dick feel raw as if there is no skin there to rub against anymore.

Thankfully you come through clutch a few 15-ish minutes later with extra necessities like small fruits and vegetables. Just in case, you bought some suppressants he may need after a nap. You make quick action to take off your jacket and close the door behind you. Then there it is. His scent. It had gotten thicker and more sour sweet once you had left. Which he smelt of nothing in particular. Just home-y and comfortable to your nose to lure you in. You, his mate particularly.

And it works with you following his smell to your shared room. Creaking the door open slightly to not scare him with your much bigger frame, since his senses were very high in his heat. Events have occurred where you had scared him and he looked like a fluff owl.

Walking towards the lump on the floor by the very edge of the bed you can see bits of his bi colored black and white hair. The sweat causing his usual high ends to stick to his forehead.

"Omega." You sing song to him as you kneel down to his slightly panting form. His response being of a small chirp and grunt, making you let out a throated chuckle. Your hand is out to brush his hair when he unexpectedly rises. Not fast, his stamina is still low, but fast enough to be a bit startled yourself.

In hushed tones you smile. "You needed me ? I see you're not doing too well this week, hm ?" He nods wearily. Your poor Koutaro was craving you and you had left him at home by himself untended to.

"Nest–" his request was paused as he felt a trickle of slick run down his legs for the umpteenth time. He cringed slightly squeezing his legs together a bit. "Alpha." He whines.

You understand as you take his weak arms and wrap them around your neck. He hums in approval when you start to blow on his slicked forehead. The cold air making him sigh but furrow his eyebrows.

Honestly who knows why omegas did this to themselves. They seem to want to be surrounded by heated areas like their nests - even if they are sweating by nature. It's alright though. You have no harm and problem with letting him sweat this all out. Since you are his lover and caretaker of certain times.

"'M gonna take your underwear off. Okay Kou ?" Koutaro nods his head on your shoulder. Good sign because you make quick movement to take all his clothes off in the process. His pleas of doing other was hushed when you did the same to yourself. Closing the space between one another – trying to bypass the small slick puddle with your legs. "Want my knot, babes ? Or do you want to rest and take your medicine when you wake up ?" You ask. Patiently waiting while idly rubbing circles on his lower waist and back. Heavy hands of yours feeling comforting to him.

Koutaro's pheromones get more pungent when you say that. The thought of a knot in his oh so wet hole sounds nice. More than nice since he gets hungry after heat sex, and you just went shopping so win win.

You noticed the eager smell of him and laughed to yourself as he runs his sweaty heady under your chin, for clarification. "Okay then. 'M gonna hump slowly because I know you ain't comfortable with goin' fast during your – times." He smiles at that. You always respected his boundaries and needs slash wants during his monthly cycles. The relationship you both had in general was a big notice of that.

And he's glad he has such a big alpha to protect him.

[jeonfiles]

once more to see you | kth 01

pairing: taehyung x reader ft. seokjin

genre: angst, fluff, unrequited love

synopsis: taehyung is the complete opposite of you, and you're so in love with him. he's not interested in you at all, but he's willing to pretend so he won't be known for breaking the sweetest girl in school's heart. he knows you'll end up hurt either way.

warnings: taehyung is an idiot, a lot of pining, y/n is annoyingly dependent on validation, y/n does a lot of silent prayers, y/n is a track star, childhood bsf seokjin (cute), mentions of deceased family member

music for this chap: she had the world , carry me out

a/n: taehyung will disappoint u in the beginning but hes cute i promise

"I get why you like him Y/N," Sohee swallowed the rest of her sandwich before finishing her sentence, "He's so hot. People say he's interested in you too, y'know?"

Sohee visibly tried to get food out from the back of her mouth using her tongue, and it made you chuckle at the sight. "I don't think he does." You sighed, resting your chin in your palm.

You were both situated at the table in the inner corner of the cafeteria, with a full view of who walks in the door, and sometimes you swore you could see Sohee drool when attractive guys walked in that exact door.

"Hello, of course, he does! Even his friend Jimin told Kang Seulgi from Class 1, who told Go Euntaek in class 3, who eventually told his girlfriend Baek Ho-rang who ran to me to tell me the great news." Sohee gasped for air after rambling, and you rolled your eyes,

"Stories change when that many links contribute." You scoffed, sitting back in your chair and reaching for your juice box on the table, taking a huge slurp, which you knew would annoy Sohee.

"You don't believe me? Guess we gotta ask a link closer to the source then." Sohee stood up from her chair, and you looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Park Jimin, get your ass over here will ya?" She nearly shouted across the cafeteria, and now all looks were pointed at you two, and you felt the urge to just slip down the cracks of the floor tiles and hide there forever grow stronger for each nanosecond.

You sunk further down on your tacky, orange chair, but you could still see Jimin's black locks sway a little over the crowd as he walked over to the table you were sitting at.

"What's up sugar?" Jimin smirked at Sohee, and Sohee didn't even budge, and you had no idea how she did it. He was stupidly attractive and could make any girl drop her pants with a comment like that.

"Jimin my dearest, a little birdie told me that Taehyung likes my sweet Y/N, could you confirm?" She batted her long lashes and smiled prettily at Jimin.

He looked to the left, sucked his teeth, and said, "I can't, I'm sorry." You realized you had grown a little too hopeful, and your heart sunk quite a bit when he spoke.

"Does he think I'm pretty at least?" You spoke up, eyes shining when you looked up towards the standing Jimin, the harsh lights in the cafeteria reflecting in them.

"He hasn't mentioned you much, to be quite honest." He shrugged, walking back to his table, where Taehyung and the rest of his friends sat.

Your heart thumped when he met your eyes, and you looked away in panic. The rest of lunch was just Sohee apologizing and you avoiding eye contact with any of the students at the nearby tables.

Jimin mentioned you and Sohee's name several times, he was a loud speaker, and you were so scared of what he was saying you could probably die right then and there.

Saved by the bell, you picked up your stuff and got ready to start running to your classroom, praying you wouldn't meet any of Taehyung's friends, and especially not Taehyung as you ran Usain Bolt style.

You looked down while running, not thinking twice about leaving your best friend behind, you suddenly fell to the ground with a thud. This was surely not one of your glory days.

When you looked up, you wanted to cry. It was none other than Kim Taehyung, and he didn't look pleased. You gathered your things and muttered "Sorry." under your breath probably about 10 times, and he just watched, disappointingly.

"You're a klutz. Why were you running?" He spoke, and your knees turned into jelly when you tried to stand up, you nearly fell and dropped all your stuff again, but he caught you by the arm, straightening you up like it was nothing.

"Uh... Uhm... Err..." you mumbled, and he rolled his eyes, and not in a joking manner. "Fuck that, why are you going around telling people I like you?"

Your breath hitched, and he stared at you coldly. "I didn't! Gosh, my friend Sohee told me someone had told her that you liked me, and- uh... We asked Jimin, and-" He put his hand over your mouth, making you shut up.

"I don't want you two to go around making up baseless rumors about me, it's incredibly annoying for me to go around correcting people who assume shit just because your little friend speaks louder than a bunch of hyenas at a tea party." Taehyung nearly spat, and you took a step back.

You noticed that people were listening in, their stares burning holes in your back. He was livid, and you didn't understand why, you just smiled, praying to god that this would end soon.

"I just thought you liked me-" You began, and he interrupted you, "You thought I was gonna like someone like you? Get over yourself and enter the real world."

The hallway went silent, your lips trembled as hot tears raced down your face, and like the track star you were, you fled the scene and passed the finish line into the bathrooms.

You stayed till the school day ended, not knowing what was unraveling outside the four walls of the stall.

Sohee 💜: 01:12 pm

Y/N, where are you? i heard what happened :( i hate taehyung im gonna chop his sausage off

Sohee 💜: 01:38 pm

taehyung is fighting w doyoung because doyoung decided to defend you this is hilarious

but fr where are you

Sohee 💜: 01:57 pm

doyoung gave taehyung a black eye damn

doyo is on the verge of tears when taehyung said you liked him and not doyo

taehyung cant not have feelings for you like there must be smth deeper going on

Sohee 💜: 03:39 pm

class just ended i'll wait out back

Sohee always knew when to leave you alone, so she did, partially. You usually shut off your phone when you're upset, but she still sends you texts to update you whenever you turn it back on.

This time, it was quite dramatic, and you rushed out of the icky stall and ran (again) to reach Sohee to get the full story, and as you expected, it was interesting.

"Basically, Doyoung punched Taehyung and Taehyung was a little too OP, so he failed to initiate a fight, so it just turned into Taehyung being an ass to Doyoung for defending you." She shrugged, adjusting the straps of her leather backpack as you walked home.

"Taehyung's rep is so tainted right now, I don't know how he's gonna fix this my dear Y/N, so I guess he got his karma. He's an idiot and I'm glad other people are starting to see."

You nodded yes, pushing out a fake chuckle, while silently you prayed that everything would soon be back to normal and that Taehyung would forgive you for the mess you caused.

Being in love with Taehyung for a year had taken a toll on you, and your best friend since freshman year had noticed too. You were different.

You used to be so independent and optimistic, but now you would strive for validation, and you had turned into one of the most insecure people Sohee had ever met.

Sohee tried to pull you away from him, but to her demise, it only got worse when you tried to meet other guys. She figured that the only way for you to disconnect from him was if you had your go with him, or if he treated you like a complete idiot.

You waved goodbye to Sohee as you entered your house, kicking off your shoes and throwing yourself down on the couch. You wanted to scream, but you saw your brother's and another guy's shoes in your hallway, so you kept it inside.

After having watched an episode of Seinfeld, you could hear the floorboards creak, and your gaze found its way to the hallway, where your brother, Yoongi stood, peeking out from his door.

"Ah, Y/N, you're the one who's home?" He smiled brightly, eyes turning into small crescents, which made you awe at the sight.

"Yuppers." You said and sat back again, pressing play to start the next episode. "Who's your guest?" And as you uttered your last word, another head peeked out from the door, and you couldn't help but feel the happiness brew inside you.

It was Kim Seokjin in all his glory, and this time, he looked even hotter. It had been about two years since you last saw him because he moved to Germany to study medicine.

Seokjin had been your neighbor since you were born, and you pretty much grew up with two older brothers who always took care of you.

No one dared to mess with you, because Seokjin and Yoongi always got to them first. That way, you grew up without a care in the world, protected from all evil.

You had no idea when you fell in love with him. It was somewhere during puberty, where your interest in Brad Pitt and Kim Soohyun from Dream High had grown stronger.

You remember Seokjin was scouted for modeling, acting, and even idol groups all through your childhood. He did a few ads, photoshoots, a popular teenage drama called Double Trouble, and even managed to get his own Wikipedia page.

There was no doubt that Seokjin was an attractive man, and in the two years he had been gone, his face fat was completely gone, and he had defined cheekbones, a slimmer and tighter figure, and you thought he couldn't be any more perfect.

"None other than God himself," Seokjin said smugly, opening his arms to greet you with a hug, and you threw your blanket you were covered into the side as you bolted into Seokjin's arms, legs wrapped around his waist.

He slowly put you down so your feet touched the parquet, and you felt a kind of euphoria as he smiled at you again, the same smile he had flashed you as long as you could remember.

Everything about Seokjin had matured and changed, but his smile remained the same. "What are you doing back?" You sniffled, holding back the happy tears that were forming in your eyes.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I love Germany, but it's a little bland. I miss ahjumnas complimenting me on the subway and the bomb ass food here in SK." Seokjin grinned as he wiped a tear that fell down your face.

Yoongi was leaning against the door frame, smiling at the grand reunion. You knew he liked seeing you two together, and you had a small suspicion about him shipping you guys.

"Please don't ever leave again." You gripped onto his shirt, digging your face down in his chest, and he said, "I swear to god if you're wearing makeup right now-"

You laughed as you pushed him away, placing your hands below your chin and batting your eyelashes dramatically, "I'm all-natural."

"Naturally pretty." Seokjin leaned forward and whispered in your ear, and your heart did a little somersault.

Seokjin's always been a charmer.

You woke up in your room, pink sheets draped over your half-naked body as tons of messages poured in on your phone, vibrating so much it nearly fell off the edge of your nightstand.

You grab it while rubbing your eyes, and you're shocked to see the messages that had exploded on your lock screen.

Unknown: 08:39 am

Hey, it's Kim Taehyung.

Look, I'm sorry for the shit I said to you and I would love to make it up to you in some kind of way.

Maybe I could take you out?

I get it if you don't want to, but I heard you were interested in me so...

What kinda food do you like? Activities, hobbies?

I really wanna make this right :)

You: 08:43 am

oh hey! I'd love to, you kinda owe me one. if it's your treat, I suppose we could get some sushi and boba...

btw I don't like u like that

Contact made, saved as "taehyung <3" at 08:44 am

taehyung <3: 08:47 am

Okay. Meet me at Nori Table at 6 pm. Don't make me wait.

Your heart was palpitating, and when you pressed your phone up to your chest, you could feel your body heat up from your scalp to your toes.

Maybe Kim Taehyung had no interest in you right now, but he sure would after tonight. You were gonna make him love you, soon enough,

Running to the shower a few hours of Seinfeld later, you scrubbed with all your might with your newest strawberry scrub, did your makeup, curled your hair, and sat down on the couch, outfit draped over the armrest of the chair.

It was an hour till you were leaving, so for the time being you sat with hair rollers in your hair, dressed in pink sweats. Seokjin and Yoongi had been awake all night, you had heard them laugh and play Mario Cart all night, it reminded you of old times.

Old times where you went to bed crying because Yoongi and Seokjin's bedtime was later than yours at sleepovers. Thinking back, your parents made a pretty rational decision, but you resented them for it.

When Seokjin left for school in Germany, during your Sophomore year you cried again. You thought it was so unfair that you had to be two years younger, why couldn't you come with him?

You were painfully in love with him, and you had been probably since you were. A few months after he moved, your feelings faded. You were love-free, only to fall stupidly in love again with Taehyung just a year later.

You were forced to snap out of your train of thought because you heard the floorboards creak again. When you looked over at the dark hallway, you saw a tired, yet familiar face smile at you.

Seokjin looked quite disoriented, hair ruffled and eyes puffy, yet he looked like a Greek god. Sculpted to perfection, he smiled at you like he did yesterday and all the times before.

"Morning." He grunted out, his morning voice prominent. You chuckled when you looked at the time, feeling kind of bad for Seokjin who had slept away the majority of his day, which you knew he didn't like.

"It's 5 pm, cutie. Mom said you guys could order takeout, cause she's working late." You stood up, and Seokjin gave you a good look up and down, and then diverted his gaze to the lavender ruffle skirt and white long-sleeve blouse you had neatly hung over the armchair.

"What's the occasion?" He nodded over at the clothes and then your hair rollers and full-face makeup-covered face. He threw a few walnuts from the little bowl on the coffee table into his mouth.

"It's none of your business, but I have a date tonight," you said smugly, and a walnut flew out of Seokjin's mouth in shock.

"A date? Like a real one?" He frantically asked, and you nodded as you walked away with your outfit in hand.

You came back out minutes later, and Seokjin had to hold his mouth shut so it wouldn't drop to the floor. You had matured so well, a white blouse adorning your waist, and the lavender skirt hugged your curves nicely.

You had decorated your neck and ears with golden jewelry, and you had a pair of Air forces dangling from your left hand. You were beautiful, hair let free from the hair rollers, curls swaying as you did a twirl.

"It's alright, I guess." He pretended not to care, and your proud grin morphed into a frown pretty quickly, and he noticed.

He stood up and walked towards you, standing very close. His tall figure was hovering over you. Seokjin leaned forward towards your ear, not whispering this time,

"You're gorgeous." He pushed your curls behind your shoulder, adjusting your golden necklace as he returned to Yoongi's bedroom.

You were screwed.

The time on your phone showed 6:06 pm. You recall him saying ‘don’t be late’. What a hypocrite. It had started to pour down, so you were squeezed up against the brick wall of the restaurant so the ledge above you would shield you from the rain.

You were shaking from the cold, legs exposed because of your skirt. Sighing deeply, you reached down into your purse to text Taehyung, but when you looked up, you saw him running over to you.

He was holding a bouquet of pink delphinium and peonies. You’d always been interested in flowers, and this small gesture made you all fuzzy inside.

“I apologize for my late arrival m’lady. The flower shop was about to close down for the day, and I had to beg the cashier to let me in, promising to buy a huge bouquet if she did.” He smiled as he stood in front of you.

“No worries sir, I haven’t been waiting for long.” You chuckled, as you accepted the bouquet. His eyes scanned every inch of your body, and he said, “You’re shivering. Let’s go inside.”

This was a side of Taehyung you had barely seen before, caring and warm. This was also the side of him that initially made you fall for him.

The memories of him reading stories for children at the hospital was heartwarming. Whenever you went to visit your brother, who has now passed, you would see him read stories for all the unlucky kids.

Your brother, who was only 7 years old talked about Taehyung like a superhero, and it seemed as if Taehyung’s stories were the highlight of his days at the hospital.

Daejung wasn’t a kid you would pity. In his last months in the hospital he never once cried. You believed that Taehyung was a big part of the reason.

That’s why you fell in love with him. He hadn’t been a superhero in the form of saving lives, but he definitely made a whole lot of sick kids happier.

How could you ever repay him?

Taehyung rested a hand on your shoulder and lead you inside the door, and there stood a beautiful tall woman, black hair to her waist, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips.

She was beautiful. You looked up to see Taehyung’s reaction, and he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at you. His eyes met yours, and you could’ve sword the whole world stopped.

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and it kicked you right back into reality. It was the pretty woman speaking, an even prettier voice to match her.

“Do you have a reservation?” She questioned, smiling so genuinely from ear to ear. “Yes. It’s on Kim.” Taehyung spoke so confidently.

“Ah, for two. I’ll be your server tonight.” She waved for you to follow her, and before she turned around, you saw her name tag.

Bae Eunmi. A pretty name for a pretty person. Of course, she had to be pretty. Your confidence sunk even lower, and your insecurities grew.

“I’m not interested in her, by the way. I’ve talked to her before. She’s all beauty and no brains. Not for me.” Taehyung whispered into your ear, possibly to reassure you.

You sat down at the table and ordered a huge plate of different types of sushi, maki, nigiri, uramaki, and even sashimi.

This restaurant was fancy, nearly too fancy for your liking. It was huge and flashy, and it made you doubt your outfit choice completely.

The restaurant fell silent since there weren’t many guests here this early. The silence wasn’t awkward between you guys. It was just, too silent, and you decided to break it.

“Do you still write stories?” Taehyung’s face froze. How did you know about the stories he wrote? Had you been stalking him? Was this when everyone would find out how weak he truly is?

“How did you find out... About them?” He asked hesitantly, fidgeting with a small woven basket with bread placed on your table.

“When sun and moon met, moon felt bad. When the moon was alone at night, he cried, because he wanted to shine just like the sun.” You quote his story word by word, it was your favorite paragraph.

He looked at you with a confused look and his eyes told you that he wondered why you knew the story so well.

Before he could speak up, you said, “My brother's name was Daejung. He looked up to you and constantly told me about how he wanted to be like you when he grew up.” You placed your hands on top of his over the table.

Taehyung was speechless. He sat there, body completely frozen as he processed what you just said. The little boy he had mourned for many months was the same flesh and blood as you.

“Daejung told me how he wanted me to marry you because he thought no one else deserved me.” Letting go of his hands, he continued sitting completely still.

First, he felt disappointed in himself. Disappointed of the way he had treated you, how sad Daejung would be if he knew.

Second, he could see him in your traits. Your button nose matched his completely, and your eyes sparkled just the way his eyes did.

Third, he realized he had to take care of you. Fall in love with you, for Daejung. Taehyung had promised the little boy to take care of his friends and family when he has at his worst.

His expression completely changed. It softened, and his eyes looked at you like you were godsent. He believed you were too. It was fate.

join the “once more to see you” taglist

a/n: u guys know the angst isn't over lol u guys r never gonna see the light at the end of the tunnel ! this chapter was originally a bit longer but i have to test the waters and seeing how u guys like it !! pls reblog <3

[dokifluffs]

Pregnant | Osamu, Kenma, Akaashi, Sakusa

Pairings: Osamu X Reader (female), Kenma X Reader (female), Akaashi X Reader (female), and Sakusa X Reader (female)

Genre: fluff!!! Pregnant reader!!

Author’s Note: im having some v domestic vibes and baby fever so might as well share it with you all too! Happy reading~ 

Warning: all post time skip! Pregnancy (duh)

Pregnant | Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Atsumu

Osamu: 

Crickets chirped into the darkness of the clear summer sky, stars twinkling as far as the eye could see as his keys jingled in the door, the cool air conditioning greeting him as he stepped in

The plastic bag of steaming hot onigiris rustled with every step and move he made

You sent him a text asking if he could bring home some onigiris, craving for some especially since you had been home all day while he was at work before he would have to take off on maternal leave when your arriving son would be brought into the world

The kitchen lights were off but the living room lights and tv were still on playing a random house hunting show

He approached your sleeping body, laid on you side with a pillow in between your legs, your arm draped over the side of your belly, the other acting as your pillow  

He set the bag gently on the table and knelt down in the space between the table and the couch right in front of you

“Y/N, honey,” Osamu’s voice was as gentle as a summer evening breeze, the kind that just made anyone feel good as they relaxed on a grassy hill, taking in view of the colorful sky as the sun set in the distance

“I’m home,” he leaned close and pressed a kiss to your forehead

Seeing you after being away all day, it made him wonder what you did at home all day, how bored you must be, how tired you must be

He caressed your cheek, tilting his head to take your sleeping face at a better angle

“Y/N,” his voice was silky and light in a quiet singsong way, almost humming your name while speaking it as he grazed the back of his fingers over your plush, smooth cheek

You reached your hand from your belly to his, a small smile pulling at your lips as you brought in close to your nose and took a deep breath

What he did not expect was you biting into his hand

“Y/N, honey, wake up.,” he laughed as he carefully shook you awake, trying to pull his hand back

It didn’t hurt, more like you were nibbling on him but this was one, if not most, bizarre thing you had done in all of your pregnancy

“‘Samu~ welcome home,” you woke and smiled sleepily, reaching your arms up as he leaned in to meet you halfway

He helped you sit up and opened the bag of onigiris, some new and not even on the menu yet, before you could even ask about them

You sat close, leaning into his side as the two of you ate, the tv on more of a background sound before he turned it off, giving his undivided attention

“This is so good,” you spoke, mouth partially full with one of the new onigiris, your craving being satiated as always provided by your loving husband, Osamu

“Are ya sure?” He asked, a little serious but mostly joking. “It didn’t feel that way when you were chompin’ on me earlier.” He stuck his hand out with the lightest marks made by your teeth moments ago. “Were ya that hungry?” He rubbed your shoulder with his hand, taking another bite of his own onigiri

Your eating came to a cease, laughter coming out as you set your onigiri down in your lap to take Osamu’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” you said totally unbelievable with all the laughter and giggles erupting from you, it could only make Osamu smile himself hearing your laughter

He didn’t even realize how long he had heard it but it felt so good, it felt nostalgic that made him love you even more

“Did it hurt?” You traced your finger over his skin, looking up to him

“Nah, I’m jokin’, eat.” He traded his onirigi to his other hand so he could hand you yours from your lap

It was your craving after all

The two of you ate one after the other, sitting comfortably side by side as if time didn’t exist

It didn’t take long at all before the bag was empty but the two of you stayed put in the living room with both hungers satiated

The room filled with a comfortable silence as as your bodies melted together

Your hand rest over Osamu’s as he rubbed your belly, reality setting in for him, and even you, for the nth time since you announced your pregnancy

This was really happening

You were his wife, you were going to have his child, both your love for each other in a new life

He was going to have you by his side just like this and you were going to have him, just like this

And one day, there will be a tiny pair of feet in between and he couldn’t wait

Kenma: 

Your steps sounded louder and louder as you went down the stairs, feeding the insecurity of your looks now that your belly was swelling bigger as time went on, days and weeks, months passing to your due date to the newest addition of your family with Kenma

A new Kozume brought to the world :)

Time was ticking

The hem of your oversized t-shirt tickled your thighs as you walked waddled toward Kenma in the living room, the wooden floors creaking with every step, it just poked and prodded at your insecurities

You paused right in the middle, the couches a few strides away but you couldn’t move another step

The sight of your body in the tv was the cherry on top- your plumped up body, the clear weight gain, especially your stomach although you were pregnant

But still

You felt so much bigger, you even stayed off of social medias seeing your old pictures and your recent ones families had taken, posting them

The difference was so great, it made your heart race, a chilling panic ghosting through your body, raising goosebumps over your arms

“Y/N?” Kenma’s voice pulled your mind out of the clouded thoughts of your mind. “What’s wrong?” He paused his game, standing to his feet, over to you in his comfortable sweats and kodzuken shirt with a simple white aesthetic that was eye catching but not overbearing

“I’m so much bigger,” you looked to him with glistening eyes, visually upset over your weight gain from pregnancy but it was bound to happen to everyone who got pregnant. “I’m so ugly,” you felt disgusted, your voice cutting off at the end and you wanted to turn away, head back upstairs, and hide under the covers until tomorrow

“I guarantee you that you are not ugly,” he rubbed his finger to the back of your hand on your belly, a little thing he did as he asked “permission” to hold your hand before he took it into his own

“Come with me,” he led you over to the couch he sat at earlier, the gray leather couch

He sat leaning onto the arm rest and some pillows, his legs spread open and patted the open space between

“I won’t fit,” you shook your head, completely sure you were way too wide to fit in between Kenma’s legs

Kenma was very much a stick, pretty thin, not too much taller than you but this just seemed impossible for you, especially since it felt like you were double his weight and width despite it being not true at all

“You will,” he reassured

You hesitated before sitting down, biting back all your thoughts and reasons as to why you should sit somewhere else or you needed to be anywhere else so you didn’t have to feel this way

But Kenma was right

His legs were own both sides of you and he eased your back to his chest

“Wait, Kenma, no-“ you tried to sit up, only to unable to because of your belly

“I’m too heavy.” Heat rushed up to your head, your want, no, need to leave eating you from the inside

“You’re not. Relax with me tonight.” He brought his arms around your body, handing you his personalized switch with animal crossing opened knowing this was one of your favorites

“Just play,” his voice was soothing to your ears, calming your heart

As you ran his character around his island, the more Kenma gave you tips, making light fun of the way you played, your thoughts and fears about your body slowly began to dissipate

With your mind wrapped up in the game, the more you let everything go

He was always able to read others and analyze things well, encased in his shell from a young age of being an introvert

But there was something about you, along with Kuroo and Hinata and others, who were able to coax him out of his shell

You were so wrapped up in the game, you hadn’t even realized Kenma’s hands resting on your belly behind yours holding up the switch, occasionally rubbing it as he let out a gleeful hum with his chin resting on your shoulder, watching you play, pointing out things you may have missed or advice on what you could do to maximize profits

Akaashi: *S/N* = Story Name 

Akaashi’s hand was soft in yours as you excitedly led him up the stairs toward the finally finished nursery

He, along with the help of your father, painted the room a light beige color and when the paint finally dried, brought in all the furniture like the cribs, changing station

All that was left was for you to decorate it as much as you wanted and you absolutely made sure he saw none of it until now

You opened the door revealing a complete nursery, he didn’t know where to look first but most notable was the mobile above the crib- little owls hung and when turned on, they rotated in a circle that made it seem like they were flying

“Push that button,” you stood right beside him, holding his arm, your heart pounding in your chest out of excitement

And that was when he heard it- the lullaby from a music box he had gotten you when he proposed to you a couple years back. And here it was, a tune that you two’s child will be growing up hearing

The sound of the device was so soothing, it made akaashi feel like he was just meeting you last week and getting down on one knee to propose to you yesterday

“It’s our song, Keiji,” you rest your head on his shoulder. “And it’s going to be theirs.” You brought his hand up to your belly as he turned to you, his gaze never leaving you, his eyes trained to your smile as you looked down to your bump and the feel of his touch on you

The way your eyes shimmered when you looked up, the same smile he could never get tired of in his life, it made his heart swell so big in his chest

He leaned his head close and cupped your face, bringing his lips to yours. He had to show his love for you, to thank you for being with him in this life, thanking whoever or whatever brought you to his life

You certainly changed it and he wouldn’t do anything to change that

“What was that for?” You laughed, stealing another small kiss from his lips as he pulled away, his sea green eyes as enchanting as always when he opened them

“The song reminded me how much you truly mean to me, my love.”

It felt like you were in high school/ university all over again- his simple, straight-forward words that were always able to reduce you to a blushing mess

“What should we read them tonight?” Akaashi smiled as he knelt down in front of the little shelf filled with children books, mostly gifts from his and your mother, as you sat back on a small couch adjacent to the crib

“Anything,” you chimed from behind

With that, Akaashi chose S/N and took his seat beside you. You draped your legs over his and rest your head on his arm as he opened the book and began to read the story

It was as clear as you remembered from your own memory, the images and scenes from your own childhood playing so vividly in your mind

Akaash’s voice was so smooth as he read aloud, voicing the character(s) with ease, it naturally made you a bit lethargic yourself hearing this story

Guess bedtime stories still worked even tens of years later

As the story came to an end, as Akaashi read over the happy ending, his story came to a stop as you raised your head, gasping

“What, what is it?” He suddenly set the book to the table beside it as he sat on the edge of couch, turning to you as you stared down to your belly. “Are you hurt?” He began to grow a bit frantic, his panic growing when you didn’t respond

“No, no, no, Keiji, the baby moved,” you looked up to him, your smile slowly spreading on your face, melting away his fears as relief washed over him

“Look feel!” You snatched his hand and placed it on your belly and it was true

The little baby moved inside of your belly, kicking the side of your tummy right into Akaashi’s hands

The doctor suggested to begin doing activities with the baby such as well as movement being something that was going to happen soon

But neither of you thought so soon

You were wide awake at this point as you felt your child move inside, a sensation you’ve never felt before, only seen in videos

“Hi, baby,” you spoke to you belly, a tear escaping from your eye as you looked up to Akaashi, your love for him and the two of you overflowing. “We’re your parents,” your voice quieted down to a mere whisper

The two of you sat astonished watching the little movements that lasted for about a minute, your hands never leaving each other, staying on your belly

This was real, this was your reality, your life with the one you loved so much

And he loved you with every bit of him, he couldn’t imagine what he would do in another life without you

Sakusa: 

It felt like your nausea combined with your cold was going to be the end of you if not the constant kicking from your daughter in your belly at your organs and even your ribs some times

You winced in your seat on the couch, hand over your belly as you took deep breaths through your stuffed nose through pain on top of all the things that was going through your body

Sakusa felt his heart drop beside you, wearing double masks over his face to make extra sure he wouldn’t catch any of your germs from your cold and morning sickness

“Another kick?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded your head, pushing though it. “I feel cold…” you closed your hands around the extended sleeves of the oversize sweater you wore, leaning closer to Sakusa

He tried not to mind this too much but it was like an irritating itch that wouldn’t go away, the fact how you hadn’t showered or anything today yet making it execrable for him

“How about a bath then?” He hesitantly rubbed his hand over your clothed shoulder but got over his lifelong phobia for a second

You were going to be by his side for the rest of his life. He had already seen and touched every bit of your body

You were bearing your guy’s child. This couldn’t go on forever

His touch was so simple, so light, it fed a hunger for him you didn’t realize you had deep inside but at the same time, it took you by surprise

The Sakusa you met years ago wouldn’t even sit or stand, let alone breathe, within two to three feet to anyone and years later, after marriage, and now with the start of a family, he was climbing the obstacle of his fears step by step

He knew, he told you with his own words he was never one to share a loving touch or caring words. He wanted to, god he wanted to so badly to let go of his cares and worries and fears but he couldn’t. It was etched into his skin and body, imprinted for his eyes and mind to constantly see and think about

But he wanted this to change. He wanted to do and say so many things to you to show his love that he deeply felt for you, it moved him and tore him on the inside

“Yes please,” you nodded

Sakusa had you walk in front of him, making sure you didn’t lose your balance going up

He took care of everything, adding soaps to the bath at the perfect heated temperature that would be perfect to soothe you as well as take care of some germs

Steam arose from the bubbly water

The two of you took off your clothes and he was the first to get in, his muscles instantly relaxing with the therapeutic temperature

You followed suit, feeling the subtle creeps of awkwardness

Again to your surprise, Sakusa took hold of your shoulders and carefully leaned you back into his chest with his legs crossed loosely beneath your legs

He brought his arms under the water, his hands looped around your abdomen and found their place on your belly

As soon as his touch was on you, you took in a sharp inhale, jolting in the water that created a little wave among the bubbles floating

“She’s been so active today,” Sakusa commented as he rubbed his hand in a circle on your belly, the other holding your hand as you gripped onto him through the pain

“Mmhm,” you gave a pained hum, eyes shut as you continued to breathe deeply

Sakusa could see the clear pain you were in, all the nausea and emotions that were all pent up in your body, it made guilt prick at his heart as he imagined all the times you probably wanted to reach out to him so he could hold you to help you though this but refrained

He could see your figure so clearly in his mind, reaching out but pulling back

Enough was enough

He pulled his arm from the water with a prominent splash and took off his masks, setting them neatly to the side

“I’m sorry you’re going through all this pain, Y/N.” Sakusa leaned close and pressed a kiss to your cheek, stifling his obsessive phobia internally. “Please never hesitate to reach out to me… I want to be a better husband for you…” He admitted

It felt so good to say this- it felt better than washing his hands or putting on a new mask

“I’ll be better,” he vowed more to himself than you

“Omi, it’s okay but thank you. I won’t.” You rubbed your hand over his forearms under the water, your chills from earlier long gone now  

It was like magic

With Sakusa’a hands rubbing your belly, it was like your daughter sensed this and her kickings finally ceased for the rest of the bath

“She’s not even born yet but she’s already daddy’s girl,” you leaned your head back to his shoulder, smiling tiredly to Sakusa as his lips mirrored yours

“You’re my girl now and forever, though. She’ll just be my little one,” he leaned close and pressed his lips to your forehead

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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[soothinglee]

GOODBYE V|

w/c:: 2229

waring:: yelling, caps, abuse?, blood mentioned

summary:: Ranboo, Tubbo and Michael go to the prison. Tommy babysits, Techno and y/n get visitors...

a/n::im not sure how I like this one, its kind of all over the place. To make it make more sense after the line under the prison thing is what happened the day before their visit to the prison if that makes sense... 😭

previous - next

Lava cascades down heavily as Tubbo clutches onto a half sleep Michael in fear. Ranboos' malicious grin widens as he watches Sam give a weary look towards Tubbo and hits several buttons in a chronological order. A creaking followed by a tremendous rumble echos throughout the prison, Tubbo grabs onto the wall tightly to regain his balance as he started to tip over due to the shake.

Ranboo looks over in disgust and grabs the top of his tie to tighten it. He takes his hands and brushes off the dust and ash that came from above.

"Sorry about that." Sam says going over the the levers on the opposite side of the wall. "Ive been meaning to fix that but I always forget."

Ranboo shakes his head and sighs "its alright sam, the rumbling isn't the reason why we're here."

Sam says nothing but nods his head.

They get to the last stepping point, sam walks over to the other side of the wall, levers titled with different names coat the obsidian surface like a puzzle. one that shouldn't ever be solved.

"stand on the platform," he calls over the sounds of lava, "dont move."

Tubbo gulps lightly as he blinks uneasily at the blanket of lava separating him and Michael from the monster that was locked away deep inside. He walks over to ranboo -who looked deep in thought- and yanked at his beige vest. Ranboo doesn't seem to acknowledge that the boy is there though, it seems like he wants to. His eyes flicker from a dark purple to his natural heterochromia green and red ones. To Tubbo it looked like he was fighting with himself internally.

"Ranboo?" he cry out softly yanking once more, "we dont have to do this! we-we can always ask dream for more time! I promise you I'll try again tomorrow to talk to y/n! We just need- I just need time."

Ranboos head snaps up from its place towards the floor. The flickering was long gone now and the purple made a home. He removes Tubbos hand roughly from his arms and glares at him through pointed eyes.

"do not touch me," he seethe taking a step forward towards the lava. "you had your chance to talk to y/n earlier and you ruined it. Y'know that dream doesn't believe in second chances so why bother."

Tubbo scoffs and puts Michael down but walk towards Ranboo slowly. "You yourself saw what happened at Technos! I have the scar to prove it! They dont want to talk! Y/n wants nothing to do with us and it shows." lie.

Ranboo looks back at Tubbo tightly. His hands now rest behind his back, fingers laced together. "and whose fault is that? Hm? I'm not the one that lashed out!"

Tubbo raises a pointed finger and shoves it into Ranboos back "YES YOU WERE! YOU WERE THE REASON I GOT ATTACKED IN THE FIRST PLACE! I wouldn't have gotten shoved if you would've learned to control your anger"

Micheals whimpers and places his hands over his ears. He never liked loud noises especially when it involved his fathers yelling at one another. The hybrid back up farther from the pair but instead ends up backing into something hard and tall. With hands still wrapped around his ears he slowly looks up to see sam looking down at him in pity. A solemn look replaces his usually hard prison guard glare.

"Im sorry Michael," he whispers lightly. Michael looks up at him in confusion and grunts.

Sam clears his throat loudly to get the attention of the still fighting pair. "I'm ready when you are."

Ranboo looks up from Tubbo and grins the same devilish grin from before, "let the fun begin."

Prior to this altercation at the place where hell is soon to be set loose. Tubbo read Tommy a written list of everything Michael needed while they were gone. Tommy-who had been half listening- rocks back and forth in the decades old rocking chair while loudly sucking nothing out of his mouth with a tooth pick.

"-and he also needs to be put in bed by 8-" Tubbo looks up from his list to see that Tommy was on the cusp of dozing off, he rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers in front of Tommys face "HELLOOO??? IS ANYBODY HOME?"

Tommy give out a screech and falls out of the chair, from the corner of the room where Michael was watching he starts to giggle watching as his clumsy uncle hit the floor.

"what is wrong with you?" Tommy groans rubbing the top go his head. "I was listening! That was rude, uncalled for and mean." He huffs and sits back down softly.

Tubbo rolls his eyes again and scoffs "Rude and mean are practically the same thing and repeat to me at least one thing I just said just now."

Tommys eyes drifts over to the other side of the room as he tries and recall what tubbo had said to him. Multiple stampers and stutters fly out of the boys mouth reeking incoherent thoughts. He looks back to tubbo who had a pointed look on his face. Arms crossed and foot tapping, he waits for the blonde haired boy to come up with something.

Minutes passed and nothing is said. Tubbo groans and drops the paper into Tommys lap.

"Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable," He walks into the kitchen with Tommy right on his tail, Micheals ears perk up.

"Tubbo man listen! I promise nothing bad is going to happen! I'm a amazing babysitter! Even ask Michael! he'll tell you." The two male look over to Michael who was lurking in the corner, his stuffed pig in hand. He looks up feeling the attention shift to him and grunts. He looks at Tubbo and then to Tommy. After a few moments he nods his head lightly and goes back to playing.

Tommy lets out a cheer, throwing his arms up into the air. "SEE! I told you! Big M knows the truth."

Tubbo shakes his head but smiles, "yeah yeah whatever, we should be back no later than 9:30" he walks over the door where Ranboo stood waiting, a disturbed look etches his faces as he fiddles with his sleeves, "be safe, Michael remember, dinner first then desert. See you soon" and with that, he closes the door with Ranboo in tow.

Once entering the cold forest, tubbo shutters and grasps his thin wool sweater tighter. The freezing weather isn't one made for a half goat. Ranboo on the other hand looked completely fine. He was quite used to the ankle deep snow and frigid winters.

Ranboo notices that Tubbo is slowing down slightly, “you good tubbo?”

Tubbo turns around for the first time in 30 minutes, his lips are a purplish blue and his nose started to bruise. “Ranboo, look at me. Does it look like I'm good? I’m freezing my tail off and i almost ran into a tree trunk”

Ranboo makes a pained face and looks around. After moments of not spotting anything useful he remembers that he brought an extra scarf in case he accidently forgot his original one.

He gasps lightly and pulls the cotton scarf out of his pocket and walks towards Tubbo. Opening it a little, he slips it over his head and wraps it around 2 times before nodding his head.

“There you go,” Ranboo smiles and Tubbo gives him a skeptical look.

“Thanks…” he says, turning slowly as Ranboo kept walking to Technoblades house.

Upon arriving Steve, technoblades’ 'bodyguard' made a noise of acknowledgement and stepped aside to allow the two boys to step on the porch.

"much appreciated Steve," Tubbo says moving beside him but Steve doesn't give him not even a blink. Tubbo turns around to Ranboo already looking at him in expectancy. "dont do anything," - he takes his hand out of his glove and shoves it into his pocket-" just stand back there and let me do all the talking."

Ranboo gives him a weak nod and steps back farther from Tubbo and the door, "m'kay."

Tubbo takes a deep breath and nods his head, "okay," he turn back around and faces the door he last saw all those months ago. Memories flash in his eyes, the yelling, the crying, the regret, the neglect. He brushes them off his shoulders like a pesky bug and give three simple knocks,

Clunk

Clunk

Clunk

After the last knock there's silence, no noise coming from inside or outside the house aside from the nervous, heavy breathing from Tubbo and the occasional crunch coming from Steve as he ate.

"Knock again," Ranboo suggest getting impatient, "They may have not heard you the first time?"

Tubbo nods again, "yeah," and knocks. This time hard and long.

Clunk....

Clunk...

Clun-

Before Tubbo can knock again the door swings wide open. Technoblade stands there with his sword in hand, a head peeps out from behind him. A noise of what seemed to be disgust was heard and the person that was behind his back rolled their eyes.

y/n

"y/n" Tubbo gasps stepping forward but was quick to step back when Technoblade thrust his sword forward.

"why are you here." he grumbles, the deepness of his voice sent vibrations through the air causing the crows in the area to scatter. "I thought I told you guys to stay away."

Tubbo shakes his head and puts his hands out in front of him in defense. "we know- I know but we just wanted to spend some time with our child, you know how long its been," -he looks over to Ranboo and then to y/n who had stepped out of hiding- "we missed you and we want you to come home to us. we realized our mistakes and we want a change."

y/n steps forward but not all the way since techno was blocking their path and lets out a unhumorous laugh, "yeah okay, im not coming back, me, techno and Philza are content."

Tubbo starts to get restless "y/n please."

y/n uncrosses their arms and closes their eyes, "what do you not understand? why do you not want me to be happy? I said no"

Ranboo starts getting agitated his eyes shine a brighter purple, and rushes forward and comes face to face with Technoblade "You will let us see them and thats FINAL. I will no longer agrue with you, if you have a problem then you're going to have to go through me because you will not allow us to see our child."

Techno lets out a disdain huff, "do you know who you're talking to? I was the one that took you in, I know all your weaknesses ranboo, dont test it."

Ranboo looks down and sucks his teeth, "y'know what? Im tired of talking" he charges forward and lands on techno. Screams fill the air as the two rustle with one another.

"TECHNO STOP!" y/n screams trying to break them up but failing horribly.

"RANBOO LET GO! I TOLD YOU I HAD IT!" Tubbo tries to grab Ranboo on the shoulder to separate them but instead he accidentally grabs Technoblade.

"dont tOUCH ME!" techno roars and shoves Tubbo backwards.

Everything goes in slow-motion. One moment Tubbo is having a conversation and the next he's being thrown into the sky and landing on his face.

"d..d-DAD!" y/n screams and rushes over to Tubbo who was laying on the floor in pain. where once was his silky smooth skin was a scar that went from his forehead to the corner of his lips. "are you okay?"

Tubbo groans and goes to reach for the wound but y/n slaps his hand away before he could "yeah im fine."

By this time the two other hybrids stop fighting and Ranboo rolls his eyes and sighs, "get up tubbo, you'll suffice," when Tubbo stays on the floor he titters and teleports over to y/n and tubbo.

He grabs tubbo by the collar and hoists him onto his feet. Tubbo lets out a cry and y/n takes out a tissue they had stored in their pocket and handed it to Tubbo.

"thank you," he says quietly and watches as y/n gives him a worried look.

"this is not over," ranboo shouts at Technoblade "we will be back! and we will have y/n." he drops tubbo on his feet and slings his arm over his shoulder, under his breath he then says "even if we have to use force."

On the way home Tubbo slips in and out of consciousness, the blood on his face had dried up by now. He remembers the tissue y/n gave him and takes it out of his breast pocket to clean himself off. As he unravels it his notices some ink in the inside.

'strange' he thinks opening it up more. The more he opened the more ink showed up. Tubbo looked up to see if Ranboo was around but he was too busy up ahead talking to himself. Tubbo flattened out the tissue on his chest

'I would like to have a talk,' it read ' just me and you. no one else. I'll sneak out when you give me a confirmation.Just dont tell Ranboo '

...

bingo.

thank you so much for the support and thank you for reading!<3

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[oddaodd]

can you make one where the reader is the youngest maid in Tommy's house and she's helping serve the dinner for christmas and taking care of the kids and in some point Finn gets closer to her and try to flirt with her (she's just a few years older than him) and the reader don't know how to react but Tommy comes and help her (because he already likes the reader but don't get too close because she's too young for him) and by the end of the night when everybody is sleeping and they have sex

· A Whimsical Tale · 

Author’s note: I know we are no longer near Christmas but I love living a dangerous life so I’m just going to post this now.  

 Anddd I loved writing this story so thanks for requesting! and as always, I hope everyone has a lovely day. ❤️

Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol and a drunken Finn. 

·

Christmas Day was a heavy day on Arrow House and despite the numerous staff, there was always something to be done. Y/n was one of the youngest maids so she was never the one in charge of cooking and preparing dinner, instead she helped pour drinks and look over the children, which Y/n was thankful for since it didn’t require as much elbow grease as cooking for an abundance of people.  

“More wine Tomm...” she caught her mistake and made it up clearing her throat “Mr. Shelby?”

“Thank you, Y/n” He politely answered pretending he hadn’t heard her almost call him Tommy.

Y/n poured the wine with shaky hands hoping that nobody  had noticed her mistake and blushing cheeks. She knew Tommy didn’t mind her calling him by his name when they were alone, but she wasn’t sure if he would still be as lax on the topic if there were other people present.

As she poured some for Ada, Polly gave her nephew a knowing stare that indicated she had noticed and knew what it implied, which triggered complex emotions in Tommy.

He enjoyed Y/n’s company when she served him breakfast and lit the chimney in his office and when sometimes she engaged in conversation with him. She told him everything about her life, whimsical tales of mundane occurrences that sounded worthy of a novel. He wondered what kind of character he played in it.

He would be lying if he were to say that he only enjoyed having her around because she was good at her job. Truth was, Tommy felt infatuated with her and her bubbly smile and occasional kind words when he was feeling the world closing in, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it because she was much younger than him.

Y/n threw occasional smiles at Tommy through the night. She helped entertain the children while the other adults drank and enjoyed the evening. As the night progressed the alcohol began taking tolls, calling some to bed and inciting some others to questionable actions.

“Do you maybe want to go out sometime? Came Finn’s voice while Y/n tidied up around the kitchen.  

“Excuse me?” She asked even though she had heard him loud and clear.

“We should go out sometime” Finn spoke again in boozy confidence

“Um...” she began with an amused smile that disguised her discomfort for she wished the one asking were a different Shelby.

As if summoned by mention in a passing thought,  Tommy’s deep voice interrupted whatever excuse she was  machinating.

“Leave her be, Finn”

“But I’m not doing anything, Tom” he complained in a slur.

“You’re making a fool of yourself Finn” interrupted Arthur before dragging Finn away and out of the kitchen.

She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s eyes lingered on her figure before he left the room after his brothers.

After a while everybody including all the maids had gone to bed, Y/n stayed behind to have a cup of tea in the kitchen so she could mull over her feelings for Tommy in peace.

She had been attracted to him since her arrival to arrow house, but what began like a stupid crush soon turned into more complex feelings. She was always looking forward to seeing him and talking to him at late hours of the night at his office when he couldn’t sleep. She had tried not to think too much into his stares and considerate actions, but her infatuation with him had reached a point in which she couldn’t pretend not to notice.

She wanted his actions to hide a deeper meaning and she believed they did, but she felt her reasoning was tainted by her own wants. Tommy was significantly older than her and she felt immature in comparison.

“I knew you’d still be here”

She knew he would come.

She looked up from her teacup to the kitchen door to see Tommy strolling in. She forced a smile and shoved all her thoughts about him aside.

“Want a cup?” She signaled to the teapot as Tommy leaned against a cupboard.

“Alright” he said and Yn poured him a cup. His eyes following her every move. Her features seemed to be highlighted by the moonlight flowing in through the window making her look more divine than ever despite the tiredness hiding in her movements.

She felt an old wave of nerves creeping up her spine, making her heart beat faster and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t the first time Tommy and her were alone together, but that night’s air weighed differently.  

“Im sorry about Finn” he commented while she poured the tea.

“Its alright” she spoke softly walking towards him “Thanks for coming to my rescue”

Tommy’s mouth curved into a small smile, the way it did whenever she was around.

“Anytime” he said

“You are staring” she commented when she handed him the cup, noticing his gaze.

Tommy hummed taking a sip of his tea before placing it on the counter behind him, not even attempting to deny her accusation. “You look beautiful”

Her cheeks turned a soft shade of scarlet and her heartbeat quickened at his words. She wasn’t expecting him to say that. Still, she couldn’t help but smile at his honest complement.

Feeling comforted by the intimacy that the kitchen late at night provided, he cupped her face as leaned close to her lips. Y/n  did the same in a heartbeat and when their lips came together she felt a thousand matches lighting up inside her body.

She melted into the kiss as it turned more passionate, Tommy’s hands went to her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“Tell me to stop” he murmured against her lips.

“God no” she murmured back.

Tommy felt reassured knowing that she had wanted this just as badly as him and let himself get lost in the  soft moans and blissful sighs he coaxed from her with his wandering tongue and expert hands.  

Y/N hadn’t noticed Tommy began leading her to the table until she felt the cold surface against her lower back. Tommy prompted her up on it and smoothly hitched up her skirt. He ran his index finger teasingly along her clothed folds earning a whine from her pretty lips.

“Take them off Tommy” she pleaded.

Tommy complied and slid her underwear off her legs, his mind clouding at the sight of her, needy and wet in front of him. He kneeled in front of her and spread her legs open with his hands sending shivers through her body. Y/n felt her stomach drop in expectation at the sight of his handsome face close to her cunt.

“Tommy, ple..” Her place came short at the feeling of warm tongue on her sex. A teasing lick first that soon developed into passionate wet strokes and kisses  lapping against her folds and teasing at her entrance.

Her fingers tangled on his dark hair as she became a withering mess, submissive to Tommys experienced tongue. she felt her arousal building up, bringing her closer and close to the edge with each lick. She couldn’t get enough of him but she was eager to have him in her so bad.

“I need you inside me”

Tommy looked up at her with teasing eyes, her juices glistering on his chin and lips and when she felt the absence of his tongue on her she almost regretted being so impatient. But Tommy didn’t give her time to dwell on that regret when he went to passionately kiss her again and she felt his bulge through his trousers against her bare entrance.

Her impatient hands went to fumble with the buttons that held the basted trousers in place and Tommys went to assist her moments after, never breaking apart from the searing kiss, Y/n got a glimpse of Tommy’s cock and she felt like gasping when she felt Tommy guiding his head to tease at her entrance.

She moaned at the feeling and gasped when he pushed into her.

“So fucking tight” he whispered to her ear.

She sighed lewdly at his sinful praise and when he was fully inside her she felt so sinfully full she wondered how she could have lived for so long without this feeling.

She held onto his broad shoulders as he started pumping in and out of her, teasingly slow at first and speeding up deliciously with each thrust.

The table started creaking under her and the teacup and cup she had put there earlier fell off at their movements, loudly crashing onto the floor. She felt a twinge of concern about the noise, trying to break through the dense cloud of pleasure Tommy had summoned around her. However, Said concern became less and less concerning with each thrust of Tommy’s. It was the stuff of dreams.

He felt her clenching around his cock telling her that she was close. He wanted to make her cum, he needed to make her cum.  

He began rubbing circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves and soon after she came beautifully. Her legs tightened around his waist wanting to keep him close, still reeling in the aftershock of her orgasm as Tommy chased his own, which came not long after with a groan of her name. The expression of his face as he came into her was one Y/n knew would never leave her mind.

“What if somebody heard us?” She whispered as she collected her discarded garments with a smile.

“I hope they heard. Maybe that way Finn will know better next time”

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz

[someonestolemyshoes]

Hi! Have u done any pregnant Hanji and overprotective daddy Levi already?? Yep i think im craving for more domestic levihan family, im sorry 😭

Im a bit new here in the community, and when i read ur works, i fell in love with it already, thank you for existing!!! 💖💖💖

Hello anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed my other fics :3 Sorry for the very long wait for this one, I've been struggling to find the time/motivation to write lately, but I'm feeling a little better and I figured I'd get to work on some of my prompts. Starting here!!

It ended up a little less domestic and a touch more angsty than I had originally planned, but only for a moment--happy endings all round! 

Warning: this does start off with non-graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting, I hope that doesn't bother you!

Hange had been feeling unwell for days.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—Hange tended to wake up feeling nauseous some days, most often when she'd neglected to eat a decent meal the evening before—but this was the fourth morning in a row now, that Hange found herself bent over the toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning, heaving up nothing but acid and empty air. 

She retched until her stomach ached. There was nothing left to bring up, but her gut still rolled unpleasantly and there was a telling tremor under her tongue that warned her it might be best to stay in the bathroom a little while longer. She settled heavily against the wall to catch her breath.

It didn't make any sense. For most of the day, Hange felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but that was only to be expected after spending half the night every night on the bathroom floor. Tonight, no doubt, would follow the uncomfortably familiar routine: Hange would dry-heave a little longer, until the queasiness abated enough for Levi to convince her to come back to bed, and then she would toss and turn, too warm beneath the bed clothes, until she could fall into a restless sleep. She'd wake up feeling a little groggy, a little bleary, unreasonably hungry, but after a coffee and some breakfast she would feel well again. Perfectly normal.

Like clockwork, Levi appeared in the doorway just as Hange had flopped herself back over the toilet. She felt his palm, cool and soft, press against the back of her neck. Hange gathered her hair back from her face with both hands, braced her elbows on the toilet bowl, letting out a groan of discomfort as her stomach twisted, threatened to revolt again. Levi's thumb rubbed soothingly against her neck.

Sure enough, she brought up nothing more, but she gagged plenty, and found herself gasping for breath by the time she leaned back against Levi, aching and exhausted. His lips pressed into her damp hair.

Levi was as silent as always. His touch was pleasant, his presence welcome. Hange needed the hand he offered to pull her to her feet, needed his reassuring grip at her hips as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth out. Her quaking knees felt unstable beneath her. 

He lay facing her after they got into bed. Hange was sprawled out atop the covers, shifting restlessly to find the coolest patches on the bed. Levi watched her for a moment, then said, "This isn't normal."

Hange only grumbled.

"You said you'd book an appointment with the doctor."

Hange grumbled again. Levi ticked his tongue and rolled to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Call tomorrow."

"If I didn't know better," Hange said sluggishly, "I'd say you were worried about me."

He scowled and rolled onto his other side, his back to her now.

"No, just sick of waking up at half four every morning to drag you back to bed."

Hange managed a small, wicked snicker, but shuffled across the space between them and pressed an apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.

"Must be dreadful," she said. Her voice sounded raw, hoarse. She buried her nose into his hair and took a long, deep breath. Levi grunted, but reached back and pulled her arm loosely over his hip. He knotted their fingers together loosely.

"Call them, Hange."

Hange gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I will."

**

Hange prided herself on being a reasonably intelligent person. She had two degrees, was working towards her doctorate, and already had her name on a small handful of peer-reviewed research papers. She spoke multiple languages, read dissertations for fun, kept a (in Levi’s words) disgustingly realistic human skeleton in a box under the bed for study purposes, and had spent the better part of the last 26 years of her life studying human biology and physiology.  

How she had not predicted that she might be pregnant was almost unfathomable. 

She left the doctors office in a daze with an appointment card and several pamphlets in hand. She had been referred hastily to a midwife and the hospital would soon be sending out a date for an ultrasound—“As soon as possible,” the doctor had said, “since you’re not sure how far along you are.” 

The thing is, Hange had been on the same birth control pill for years now. Forgetful as she may be about many, many things (like eating, and bathing, and washing the dishes and taking out the garbage and and and), Hange was religious in taking that damn pill at the same time every single day. She had never missed it, not even once. Without a regular cycle, Hange had no way of predicting when they had conceived, and the doctor was eager to make sure no essential landmarks in her antenatal care were missed, if they could possibly help it.

The thought had never even crossed her mind. It seemed ridiculous now, in hindsight. The sickness was one thing, but now that she thought about it, there were a whole host of small oddities that Hange could easily attribute to pregnancy. Lethargy, and bloating, heartburn, and she had been peeing more than usual—Hange groaned, and scrubbed her hands over her face. She should have suspected, at least. Should have put the pieces together sooner. 

But, stupid and naive as it may be, she hadn’t thought it possible. Why worry about it, when Hange had taken consistent precautions to avoid it? 

She felt queasy the entire bus ride home. 

It wasn’t that she was against the idea of having children. One day, maybe. When she had finished her doctorate, got herself a steady, well-paid job. When she and Levi had moved out of their tiny, cramped apartment into somewhere bigger, somewhere more suited for a family. 

And god. Levi. 

This was something they’d never really talked about. For his part, Levi never seemed all that interested. He was good with Hange’s nieces and nephews, and Erwin’s son adored him, and he hadn’t showed any express dislike for children, but—well, tolerating other peoples little brats and raising your own are two very different things. 

What if Levi didn’t want the baby? What if he did? Hange wasn’t even sure herself what she wanted to do about the whole situation—what if she didn’t want it? What if, after some reflection, Hange decided now wasn’t a good time? Could they even afford a baby right now? Hange’s money was tied up in her education, while Levi was just making ends meet at the office. They got by well enough with just the two of them, but add in a baby? A whole other person, entirely dependant on them for support? Hange could barely feed and bathe herself, some days, never mind responsibly care for a child. 

By the time the bus pulled up near the house, Hange felt more distressed than ever. Levi, at least, was at work until the evening, so she had a few more hours to herself to mull everything over, but the entire situation made her stomach clench and churn unpleasantly with every new thought. 

The prospect of having a child was terrifying. The prospect of not having this child was nauseating. 

Levi had left the flat in pristine condition when he had left for work, but Hange barely had the energy to feel even a little guilty as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving both strewn about the floor. She dumped her bag and made her way sluggishly through to the bedroom. 

Levi had made the bed. The sheet was stretched flat over the mattress, the pillows perfectly fluffed and set against the headboard. Hange’s nightshirt, one of Levi’s old, baggy shirts, too stretched and threadbare for him to wear, had been folded neatly and left on her side of the bed, her slippers lined up smartly with the bed frame. For some reason—hormones, she told herself—her eyes watered, and a lump swelled in her throat. She sniffled pitifully as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the shirt, clambering into the bed and tugging the sheets until the cocooned around her. 

Hange passed the rest of the day tossing and turning in bed. She tried to nap, but her mind was too restless, occupied with thoughts of the baby, with the concept of having to tell Levi when he came home. She could try to lie, say the doctors had done some blood work, that she was waiting on the results of some test or other, but Levi knew her too well. She could never lie to him, and her despondent state would give her away before she had the chance to say anything. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard Levi’s keys in the door. She felt exhausted, head aching with all the thinking, considering, weighing up her options; with running over every possible outcome she could imagine. Keeping the baby, getting rid of the baby, Levi not wanting the baby, Levi leaving over the baby—every scenario she could imagine was worse than the last. There was only one idea that she had hardly dared entertain, in fear of disappointment if things didn’t work out. 

She heard Levi call out for her, but gave no answer. She listened, curled up in a ball on her side, as he shuffled around, no doubt picking up her coat and shoes from where she had abandoned them. And then he made his way towards the bedroom, steps soft on the plush carpet. The bedroom door creaked open. 

“Hange?” 

She made a small, warbled noise under the bedclothes. Levi came to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand found the curve of Hange’s hip. 

“How was it?” 

Hange made another noncommittal sound. She wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, but didn’t dare show her face just yet. She wasn’t ready. She had never prepared for this conversation, never even imagined it before today. It was too soon. Not enough time to rehearse. 

Levi’s hand moved to her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine, before dropping to the mattress behind her. He leaned over her, and she felt his lips press warm and gentle to the point of her shoulder. A fresh wave of tears poured over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face. 

She tried to be quiet, but something—the shake of her shoulder, perhaps, or the shudder of air as she tried to take a steadying breath in—gave way to her crying. Levi moved off the bed, but Hange felt his fingers prying lightly at the sheets, pulling them down until he could get a good look at her face. He was kneeling by the bed now, face level with her, and he looked at her with worry pinching deep creases between his brows. 

“Oi, what’d they say?” 

Hange bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her damp cheek on the pillow. If Levi was bothered by her using their bedding as a tissue, he didn’t show it. He simply looked at her, eyes darting over her face, searching. It occurred to Hange then how this must look to him. She had gone to the doctors due to unexplained, violent sickness, and now she is in bed, hours later, still crying about whatever news she had received. 

“I’m fine,” she said. Levi’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his face remained pinched, frowning and concerned. Hange wanted to tell him quickly, simply, like ripping off a plaster, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth, but her throat constricted painfully. 

Eventually, she said, “my bag. There’s some stuff in my bag. Have a look.” 

Levi gave her a somewhat quizzical look, but stood, dropping a quick kiss to her temple before going to fetch the bag, and dipping his hand in to fish out the contents inside. 

Hange watched with her breath held and her stomach clenched as Levi pulled out the handful of leaflets and turned them over, looking at each one in turn. His eyes widened fractionally as comprehension dawned on him. His lips pressed into a thin line. Leaden weight settled in Hange’s gut. She curled into a tighter ball, pressing the bedsheets over her mouth and nose, waiting for him to gather himself enough to say something. 

After a moment, he spoke. 

“That’s all?” 

Huh? “Huh?!” 

Hange disentangled her arms from the sheets and sat up, staring at him. Levi moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, a scowl back on his face, though there was an intriguing flush high on his cheeks as he whacked her lightly on the top of the head with the leaflets. 

“Stupid four-eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Crying like that. I thought you were dying.”  

“I’m pregnant.” Hange said the word slowly, carefully, in case Levi had somehow misunderstood. He had the audacity to look at her like she was stupid.

“I can see that.” 

“And you have nothing more to say about it? That’s all?” 

Levi shrugged a little at her. Aside from the small patches of colour in his cheeks, Levi seemed wholly unfazed by the revelation. 

“It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby.” 

“That doesn’t terrify you?” 

Levi scrutinised her for a moment, before he said, “are you scared?” 

“Yes? Yes! How are you so calm? We can’t afford a baby—we don’t have the time for a baby? Where will they going to sleep? We don’t have a spare room. Can we get time off work to take care of a baby? How will we pay for childcare when we can’t be around?” 

“Hange,” Levi said, putting a stop to her rambling. He watched her with a pinched stare. “Do you not want it?” 

Hange had spent the majority of the day mulling over this same question. Staring a family was a huge, life-changing commitment, something that required  careful forethought and planning. They had not had that luxury. Hange was pregnant now. She had doubts and fears, more than she could ever express, but the idea of simply having a baby—of having this baby—wasn’t upsetting. In the small, brief moments she had allowed herself to imagine a future where she and Levi were parents, where they weren’t wanting for money or time, where things were well, she felt happy. Giddy. The prospect was almost exciting. 

“It’s not that,” Hange said earnestly. “I do—I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I—I do want it. But I just—we had no time to prepare. We have no savings, we have no space, I’m a mess. How are we supposed to take care of a tiny person? Babies are hard work, Levi.”

“You’re already hard work.” 

Hange laughed weakly, and wiped at her face again. Levi pressed a kiss to her raw cheek. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

Hange leaned into him, sighing quietly. 

“Is this the kind of thing we can just figure out?” 

Levi hummed, shrugging his shoulder. His fingers skimmed up beneath Hange’s shirt, splaying over the small of her back and pulling her closer. 

“Why not? We’ve done a good job bullshitting our way through everything else.”  

Hange laughed lightly and bumped the side of her head against Levi’s.  

“This is different, Levi. This is a person. A tiny little person who is going to need me and you to do everything for them. What if we can’t do it? What if we mess up?” 

“Hange.” Levi pulled back a little and his hands came up to grip either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. I know all that. But if you want the brat, and I want the brat, we’ve got no choice but to get on with it.” 

“I know, I know, but—wait, you want the baby?” 

Levi maintained eye contact with her, but it seemed to take a concentrated effort to do so. The flush of his cheeks deepened a little and his lips quirked at the corners. No doubt to compensate for the show of emotion, he pulled his face into his customary frown. 

“It’s fine,” he said. Hange fought the urge to roll her eyes and caught his hands as he lowered them from her face, pulling them into her lap. 

“Are you saying that because it’s already too late, or do you want to keep it?” 

Levi’s face took on a look of constipated strain. He curled his lip as though in distaste, then hooked a hand around the back of Hange’s neck and pulled her face to his abruptly, smacking a kiss to her lips. He let his forehead settle against hers and stroked his thumb over the hinge of her jaw. 

He fought to keep his tone neutral, but Hange could hear the happy tremor in his voice as he said again, “It’s fine.”

For the first time since hearing the news that day, Hange allowed herself to feel excited. To accept the idea that she and Levi were about to start their own bizarre little family. That Levi was still with her felt incredible enough, but to know that he was pleased—it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hange gave a wet laugh and kissed him again. 

“Are you allergic to looking happy?” Hange asked as they broke apart. Levi clicked his tongue and pulled back to flick her square between the eyebrows. She laughed a little louder and leaned to wipe her runny nose on his shoulder. Levi muttered under his breath, but didn’t push her away.  

“Okay,” Hange said, after a moment. She sat back and pushed her hair back from her face. “Okay. We’re having a baby, then.” 

Levi’s rubbed the smile from his lips with the back of his hand, nodding. “We’re having a baby.” 

Hange sunk down to flop back over the pillows. Levi looked down at her, head tilted, chewing the inside of his lip. Hange reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead, warmth spilling in her chest when he held her hand close and turned to kiss her palm. 

She smiled a little playfully, and freed a leg from the sheets to dig her toes into his ribs. 

“If I’d known you wanted kids I would have been significantly less stressed, you know.” 

Levi quirked a brow at her. 

“I’ve told you that before.” 

“No, you haven’t.” 

“I have. At your sisters wedding.” 

Hange racked her brain, searching for the conversation. She remembered the occasion, and she remembered that she and Levi had somehow ended up babysitting Hange’s family brood. She remembered Levi, wrestling to keep her youngest nephew on his lap while the eldest, still only five or six at the time, was clambering up the back of his chair, sticky hands tugging at Levi’s collar. Hange fought hard to recall more of what was said, but could remember nothing at all of Levi announcing that he had wanted one of his own. 

“You said these brats aren’t so bad,” Hange said slowly. 

Levi nodded at her. Hange waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, only looked at her like there was nothing more he needed to say. 

“That’s it? That’s your idea of telling me you want kids?” 

“The hell else could I have meant?” 

Hange dug her toe at him again but Levi caught her foot this time, pushing it firmly down onto the mattress. Hange reached for him with both arms instead, curling them around the back of his neck and tugging him down quickly. He toppled over her with a quiet oof, and Hange rolled them quickly, straddling his waist and dropping her weight down onto him. 

“That is the kind of thing you say clearly, Levi! These brats aren’t so bad—you’re ridiculous!” 

Levi wrestled with her arms a little longer before giving up and bringing his hands instead to rest low on her hips. He watched her with a curious expression on his face, something open and soft, and then his eyes roved down to her abdomen and his thumbs brushed inwards, beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her lower belly. 

This time, he didn’t fight his smile. 

He reached up and pulled her down by the neck, and kissed her soundly. Hange melted against him, welcomed the press of his tongue between her lips, shuddered pleasantly when he nipped at her bottom lip. She went with him willingly as he rolled them both over, nudging a knee between her legs and settling his weight against her. 

She was spreading her legs to make space for him, when he paused suddenly, and pulled back, leaning over the bed and scooping through the discarded back of leaflets. Hange, winded and dishevelled, watched him incredulously as he flicked through the contents of one, then tossed it aside and opened another. 

“What are you doing?” 

Without looking up, Levi replied, “Checking.” 

“Checking what?” 

“I wanna know if we can still—” he waved a hand between them, and went back to searching. 

“We’ve been—” Hange mimicked his gesture, “—up until now anyway.” 

Levi looked up at her, looking mildly horrified. He held up one his open leaflet and said, “You’ve been drinking alcohol, too. You’re not supposed to do that. And look, here—you’re not supposed to overwork. You’ll have to take on less hours at the university. And you’ll eat. Proper damn meals. Every day.” 

Hange flopped back against the pillows, eyes rolling, watching as Levi picked up each new leaflet in turn, pointing out every little adjustment that Hange would have to make. 

“This one says you should get eight to ten hours sleep per night. Every night. And not so much coffee, the caffeine’s bad for the baby.” 

The baby. It sounded surreal. It sounded ridiculous. Levi shifted to sit against the headboard beside her after opening the chunky little What to Expect While Expecting volume Hange had been handed while leaving the doctors. He seemed thoroughly engrossed, and seemingly unaware when one of his hands reached out to pull Hange’s hair free of its ponytail and sink into her hair. She hummed happily as his nails scraped over her scalp. 

Things were still scary, and Hange was still uncertain about how this whole adventure might turn out. But Levi was still with her, and Levi was happy, and that—

—Well, that was good enough. 

[luvholicz]

pairing. skz’s yang jeongin (i.n) x gn! reader

genre + wc. best friend’s brother au, fluff +1.3k

warnings. none

notes. LOOK AT AYENS SIDE PROFILE ok thanks </3 alsooo this might be familiar cos im reposting this from my old blog teehee

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

wandering the empty hallway of your best friend's insanely large house in the middle of the night was not a good idea. it didn't matter that you used to spend your free time as a child running down these halls, finding every nook and cranny and squeezing youself in it just to win another round of hide and seek; the house felt completely different at night. doors creaked as if they hadn't been oiled in centuries, floorboards squeaked beneath your feet, and strange shadows kept creeping up in the corner of your eye.

shuddering, you pull your cardigan tighter around you. despite being dressed in your warmest pajamas and thickest wool socks, the cold winter air still breezed past your garments and settled as a unshakeable chill deep in your bones. you'd think a house as fancy as this would at least have proper heating.

you squint as you navigate your way to the kitchen, your path being illuminated only by the twinkling christmas lights and dull streetlamps outside. one thing you had never gotten used to, even as a kid, was that the lights in the house were to be turned off by 9 o'clock, the only exceptions being if you were using the room. it was always a little silly in your opinion, but you respected the rule nonetheless. still, that didn't mean you hated it any less.

relief floods your being when you round the corner and see that the kitchen lights are on. good, someone else is awake too. you hurriedly scuttle towards the room, gasping when your sock clad feet glide against the polished hardwood floors and almost make you trip.

before you can fall, a hand shoots out and catches your wrist. "woah!" a familiar voice exclaims. "you okay there?"

embarrassment crawls through your being. "yes, thank you." you reply timidly, avoiding eye contact with the other person. slowly, you steady yourself with their assistance, shooting them a small, grimace-like smile when they ask you if you're sure you're okay. "i am, really. thank you."

"alright, just checking." he says, letting your wrist go. it isn't until he turns around that you allow yourself to look at him.

jeongin looks awfully different from the last time you saw him. maybe it was the fact that he recently just came back from college to visit home for the holidays, and he now he exudes an air of maturity that was foreign, yet befitting of him. or maybe it was because his hair is longer now, messy and disheveled and sticking up in different directions like arrowheads that can't decide where they wanna point. or maybe, you realize as jeongin now turns to face you, he just grew up.

long gone is the jeongin with cheeks filled of baby fat, the jeongin with a gummy smile and wobbly teeth. the boy who used to chase you and his sister around with snails and worms in hand and laughed when you would squeal in disgust. the boy who would talk endlessly about dinosuars and robots, and how he wanted to be an astronaut so that he could take an alien from mars and keep him as a best friend. the boy who cried a river when he skinned his knee during a game of tag, and whose cries would only quieten if his mother bought him a character popsicle from the passing ice cream truck.

long gone was the boy.

instead, a man stood in front of you. a man who looked so familiar yet foreign at the same time. he was taller than you now, tall enough that you'd have to tilt your head up if you wanted to look him in the eye. his smile was more reserved, devoid of that childish glee it used to hold. he seemed to have gained confidence too: he no longer stood slouched, unsure of how to adjust to his sudden growth in height. jeongin was handsome now, and maybe he always had been, but you had never noticed because he was your best friend's brother.

maybe this change in him was the reason your heart was beating rapidly against your chest.

when jeongin notices you staring, he smirks, the corners of  his lips tugging upwards as dimples dig in to the soft flesh of his cheeks. fortunately, he says nothing about it. "so," he says instead. "why are you up so late?"

"c-could ask you the same thing." your throat feels unnaturally dry, so you grab a clean glass from the counter and fill it with water. jeongin chuckles at your reply.

"never lost your wit, have you?" he asks, shooting you an amused smile from over his shoulder. it's then that you notice the twinkle in his eye. it's the same twinkle you used to see every time jeongin would receive a gift, like candy or toys. it comforts you to see that it hasn't diminished, that not everything about him has changed.

"suppose not." you respond dryly. inwardly cringing, you distract yourself by pouring yourself a cup of ice cold water, the exact opposite of what you wanted. (you'd go heat some water, but the kettle is beside jeongin, and you're afraid to get too close to him.) swallowing thickly, you manage to ask, "uh, what about you? why are you awake?"

"me?" he hums, almost as if he wasn't expecting you to ask him. "ah well," he breathes out. "can't sleep. also, i remembered we still had cereal, and well, you know i could never resist." he adds, chuckling softly as he runs a hand through his hair.

you stifle a snort at his response by bringing the glass up to your lips. he seems tired, you realize. his movements are more sluggish and there's a slight drawl to his words. it's attractive on him.

silence fills the air as you take a long gulp of water. you wince when the cold surface of the glass comes in contact with your lips, goosebumps rising on your arm when you swallow the cold liquid. from the corner of your eye, you can see jeongin staring at you with a thoughtful expression.

"you know," he says when you place your cup on the counter. "you haven't answered my question. why are you still awake?"

"uhm," you swallow thickly. "same reason as you, i guess. i couldn't sleep either."

"how come?" jeongin asks, stepping closer to you. the kitchen feels like it's getting smaller with each step he takes.

jeongin has never been shy, at least towards you. that fact is made apparent with how he keeps eye contact with you. it's the kind of eye contact that's uncomfortable, but you can't look away either.

"i-i've just had a lot on my mind," comes your breathless reply. he's closer to you now, close enough that if you wanted to, you could lean up and kiss his insanely soft-looking lips. but you don't.

the older boy hums, lips quirking up into a small smirk. "like what?"

warmth spreads across your cheeks. "things. l-like school, and stuff." you mentally curse yourself for your lame reply.

"really?" he leans down slightly, his face hovering just above yours. the warmth that radiates from him is comforting and intoxicating, and you want nothing more than to slam your lips against his.

"are you sure you haven't been thinking about someone?" his smirk widens into a knowing grin. it seems that your misfortune was the cause happiness.

before you can reply, jeongin pulls on the drawer just next to your thigh and pulls out a piece of silverware.

"heh," jeongin chuckles when he sees your mortified expression. "just needed a spoon." he smiles innocently, as if he didn't just try to make your heart combust.

you watch, stunned to silence, as jeongin navigates his way through the kitchen and picks up his bowl of cereal.

"i'll see you around, (name). goodnight!" the boy waves his spoon at you. he doesn't even wait for you to register his words before he skips away gleefully.

when you come back to your senses, you slap your hand against your forehead. crap, you think to youself, feeling the erratic beating of your heart against your rib cage.

yang jeongin left you feeling warmer than you've felt since summer that evening.

[siriusmydeer]

HI OMG IM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS REQUEST 🌗 Sirius with fluff prompts 26 and 29? You don’t have to, of course, but I thought it was a very cute and emotional idea!

the floor was cold

sirius black x fem!reader

summary: sirius needs you, and you’re always there.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: mentions of child abuse, mentions of crying, mentions of arranged marriage, angst-fluff?

a/n: dude i wrote this in math class

the deep tiles of the floor were cold— atleast sirius knew how cold the floor could be. from being laid upon it myriads of times at the hands of his very mother, the person who was suppose to kiss away your cuts, sew the patches of your clothes and wipe away your tears away, could only inflict pain on the vanquished boy. so, he knew how tremendously frigid his tiled floors were.

he knew stained paper, exceedingly smudged ink roaming the parchment from tears that fell upon his waterline and seeped deeply into the ivory-parchment with the black-family crest. deep snakes with a ‘B’ right in the middle, never-without the signature emerald-green ink.

some would say it was a crest of power, maybe envy. but to him— it was the crest of evil.

he knew pain, he knew guilt, he knew remorse— but there was one emotion that he was infact capable of, one that he barely knew due to the unstable bridges built in his household; the childhood emotion that was normally felt upon anyone, happiness. the boy could barely distinguish the feeling of happiness.

until the ripe age of eleven he knew dread, and breath-shaking fear, the next heir was all he was in the eyes of his family. till he was coated in the colours red and gold, directed from the sorting hat, and across the room he layed eyes upon you.

he couldn’t believe someone at the age of eleven was so beautiful, then he knew that you were kind from all the ‘hellos’ you had sent his way, that you were intelligent from every time in potions you would fix his notes without even asking, and then he knew that he didn’t just want you to be his friend.

he classified his three gryffindor mates as his family, his brothers. but you, you were different, he didn’t want sisterly love— he didn’t want platonic love that’s shared between close friends. the big realization that struck him at the blossoming age of thirteen, gaping at you writing your charms notes for him because of how intolerable his scrawny handwriting was.

the only sound to be heard the comfortable silence being the scratching of your quill against the parchment, a parchment that wasn’t stained with tears but still his to keep. over the holidays of third year he received a letter, from you, and for once when he received a letter— he didn’t have the urge to stain it with his despondent tears.

you were important, no, you were everything to him. so you could imagine his freight at the fact he could loose you, his person, with his heaps of feelings just ready to pour out to you without fault. so he waited, he waited for a long while.

he waited till evan rosier asked you on a date, he didn’t think he could have such feelings of spite and bitterness till it was displayed right in front of his demoralized eyes. then in one moment, he told you quite literally everything. but sirius was suddenly no longer frightful, he was beaming— because you his past best friend, was now his present girlfriend.

he was radiant, purely joyful with you on his arm. one to love, one to care, and one to be there through the thickness that he couldn’t endure alone. he was euphoric until one day he saw the same crest— and suddenly, the ink was smudged with the same sorrowful tears.

he sat in the same place upon his bed, the same designated bed he had for the past several years at hogwarts. thin ivory parchment clutched into his right hand, one singular sentence slithering through every nook and cranny in his mind like that same snake that was labeled upon the black-family crest.

‘we are setting you up for an arranged marriage.’

it was barely perceptible due to the crinkles in the paper and the amount of stygian ink smeared onto the thin paper that he had the urge to burn too ashes and just toss in his parents faces.

the room was dead silent, the window slightly creaked open to allow the gusts of cool air to formulate in the empty room; just the solemn boy sitting in his bed— receiving the worst news that could’ve ever been said to him. goosebumps were arising on his forearms like he was back to when he was the small boy when he was eleven, left frigid and terror-stricken on the black tiled floor.

he missed the sound of the creaking door and the murmured footsteps of your soft shoes against the hardwood floor of his dormitory. suddenly flinching at the touch of your hand on your shoulder, instantaneously gaping at your dismayed face.

he layed his hand upon yours, suddenly slotting his digits between your fingers. showing his remorse through his actions— his own exertion speaking louder than words ever could. you caught sight of the wrinkled sheet grasped in his opposite hand. you went to grab it seeing as to how much pain one piece of paper could cause a boy, your boy, sirius opting to push it away behind him.

“you are my family.” he first spoke in sincerity, not even a small amount of dishonesty in his tone. he grasped at your other hand, pulling you to sit right in front of his slouched form.

you saw the dilation in his pupil at his pearl-coloured irises. the gaze was strong, showing the bond you had both built over several years. the flecks of cerulean spotted in his irises, the outline of grey around his pupils. the shades of the ridden black-family now in the purest form.

“sirius... you’re not your family.” you had suspected that is what the streaked parchment had regarded, most likely another foul request of his family or unkind words directly from his mother.

“you are sirius black, my gryffindor keeper, the boy who turned into an animagus for his best friend. you’re not malicious, your compassionate and thoughtful.” you crooned directly to him, seeing him sit up a bit rather than a slouched and dejected form more-so hopeful and waiting in anticipation for your next words.

you were both silent for a moment, stroking his hand while he basked in your small affections. you were there— and boy did you care for him.

“i didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much.” he chucked, small sniffs lingering as he let the words carve into his mind that now he only started to believe. feeling your small strokes pause for a moment, he took it upon himself to press a small kiss to the palm of your hand, remaining the eye contact. the adoration in his eyes prominent as he looked at you.

he wasn’t evil, he was compassionate. and only now was he starting to believe it; because you of you.

taglist: @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul

[highqueenofelfhame]

no tag list bc im posting this from my phone and am too lazy so pls reblog so this gets traction! thank you for reading and follow @highqueenofelfhamewrites for better and more frequent updates and turn on post notifications! i might do away with tag lists soon idk. the whitethorn kids are headcanons from @musicmaam and i so i hope you love the babies we love them very much and becca is a mastermind

masterlist

Outside, it was a still and quiet morning. Despite the sun having risen hours ago, the sky remained a murky gray. Dew clung to the grass and a light fog remained settled over the landscape. It looked cold and like the kind of day that would usually have Aelin curled up in the study, a roaring fire warming the room while she sat in one of the oversized leather chairs and reread a favorite book. Rowan knew that once outside, the cool air would be a sharp bite at his skin. It’s how Terrasen always was in early November.

Instead of reading, though, Aelin was staring at her side of the closet. Her fingers nervously tapped above her elbow while she surveyed dresses and pantsuits, jackets and turtlenecks. More than once she had murmured that she never knew what to wear, and more than once he had told her that it really didn’t matter and she would look beautiful all the same.

A level below, Rowan heard the front door open and close, followed by their oldest son, Arden shouting up the stairs that they were home. They referred to him and his boyfriend, Jamie, and Aelin and Rowan’s oldest, Evalin. The three had driven from the University of Orynth on the other side of the city to the family’s house on the outskirts of town.

Genevieve, Declan, and Endymion, the younger half of the Whitethorn kids, were all getting ready. Genny had been up with the sun to make breakfast for everyone, her hands sticky with cream cheese frosting and cinnamon by the time she had finished. Declan and Endy were down the hall, fighting for counter space in their shared bathroom while Genevieve finished up at the vanity Rowan had built her last year in her bedroom.

More noise followed the voices downstairs turned to a quiet murmur as Rowan approached his wife and rested his hand on her lower back. Aelin leaned back on her heels and into his touch, turning her head slightly. Rowan pressed a kiss to her temple and she shivered, reaching out for the dress that he knew she’d end up picking. It was his favorite.

“Perfect choice, fireheart,” he murmured, rubbing his hand across her middle back as she sighed and pulled it off the hanger that she dropped to the floor. Rowan chuckled to himself, nudging it toward her pile of shoes as he followed her back out into their bedroom.

Rowan was already showered and dressed. He wore a simple black suit with Aelin’s favorite dark green tie— one that she claimed brought out his eyes, though Rowan hadn’t noticed a single difference as he tied it around his neck.

“You are worrying about nothing,” he murmured into her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. Aelin shuddered a sigh, licking her lips as she turned to look at Rowan over her shoulder. Their eyes met for a single heartbeat before moving to the door.

“I hope Arden and Evie remembered to pick everything up this morning.”

“I’ll go check,” he promised, squeezing her shoulder before walking away. Rowan paused in the doorway, turning to look at his anxious wife. She stood in front of the window, dress draped over one arm while she twisted her wedding band around her finger. It made his heart squeeze in the most painful way, but he left her and jogged down the stairs to where the rest of his family mingled in the kitchen.

Entirely typical of his children, none of them looked up when he entered. Gen was dressed in leggings and an oversized sweater, manning the stove to make everyone else eggs. Endy and Declan were arguing over who got the cinnamon roll in the center of the pan: it was the most gooey and beheld more icing than the others. Declan won out in the end, but only because Genevieve pointed a spatula at Endymion to remind him of a petty crime he’d committed against her the day before.

“You don’t deserve that cinnamon roll. You know what you did.” Endy snorted, but relented, allowing Declan to eagerly swoop in for the golden treat. A large dollop of icing slipped off the side, barely making it onto his plate as he did. Endymion sighed wistfully, likely dreaming of how good that would have been in his stomach instead of his brothers. Rowan laughed to himself, ruffling Endy’s hair as he walked by. His youngest shrugged him off with a shiver, lips pulling down into a frown while he looked over at his father, then to his older sister as she walked into the room.

“Has mom been down yet?”

“She’s still upstairs,” Rowan said, while the other kids mumbled that she’d yet to come down. Arden and Jamie slid into the empty barstools at the counter, accepting plates of bacon and eggs from Genevieve. “Can someone go check on her?”

“I’ll go,” Evie decided, heading up toward Rowan and Aelin’s bedroom, stairs creaking with every step.

Genevieve was watching Evalin up until she disappeared at the top of the landing, her lips twisting to the side as she shifted to turn the stove off. The kitchen settled into a comfortable silence, the scraping of forks the only disruption. Genny poked at the cinnamon roll she’d chosen for herself before pushing it away, toward Endy.

“I can’t eat,” she said quietly, tapping her phone screen, the time blinking up at her before it went dark again. It seemed that Endy could eat, however, because he pulled her plate over and dove into her cinnamon roll immediately after finishing his. It was almost enough to make her smile but she seemed to be fighting it off. Rowan moved to wrap his arm around his daughter, but she shrugged out of his embrace and disappeared up the stairs. If he had to guess, she was joining Aelin and Evalin.

“I’m worried about her,” Rowan and Arden said at the same time, the former cracking a half smile.

“Me too,” Endymion agreed, fingernail tapping against the counter while he looked over his shoulder. Rowan opened his mouth to speak, but the soft closing of a door followed by the squeak of the top stair silenced him. A moment later, his three girls were filing into the kitchen. Aelin hugged each of her babies, pressing kisses to their cheeks that they didn’t shy away from.

“We ready?” Arden asked, picking up the bag he’d brought in with him. Aelin nodded and rubbed her hand over Genny’s upper back.

Genevieve had always been the most anxious of their kids in the worst way. Over the last year, her panic attacks had only gotten worse and nobody really knew how to help her. A few months ago, she had finally caved and agreed to start taking medicine for it when she needed to. Judging by the way she stood, worrying her lip and twining the ends of her silver hair into tiny braids, Rowan wondered if she was already debating taking one of those pills to keep the monsters of the day at bay.

The ride was quiet. The only conversation consisted of Aelin and Rowan asking Evalin, Jamie, and Arden about their college courses. The youngest three Whitethorns stayed quiet and listened while looking out the windows and tapping on their phones. No music filled the empty silences— the last five minutes was nothing but garbled road noise and turn signals, the occasional sniffle of a nose, or a small sigh.

When the car was put in park, nobody moved immediately. Aelin stared through the windshield, fingers drumming on the gear shift. Rowan lay his on top of hers, but she didn’t look over at him. Instead, she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and, after several heartbeats, nodded. Only then did the kids file out of the back seats, Genevieve going to take her mother’s left hand while Arden took her right. Rowan walked beside Endymion and attempted to steady his son when he stumbled over a rock that was hidden in the grass.

They walked through the cemetery, moving by headstone after headstone. Some of them were large and ornate weeping angels, others were crosses jutting out of the ground. A fair few were simple concrete rectangles in the ground with a vase for flowers. The one they came to stop at was something in between.

It was about two feet high in the middle of the graveyard, simple text embedded into the shiny quartzite stone. A large hawk had been carved into its surface, wings spread wide mid-flight, beak parted as though it were releasing a fierce battle-cry. There was no vase for flowers anywhere near it. Instead, piles of stones were left all around it. They were in all shapes, sizes, and colors. One had a painted hawk on the surface that he knew Genevieve’s boyfriend had left behind at the funeral last year.

Arden placed the bag he carried on the ground and they let Aelin be the first to pick her stone. She picked a large smooth one, a paler gray than the headstone itself that fit perfectly in her palm. She folded her legs beneath her body as she knelt before it, trembling fingers tracing over the name.

ROWAN M. WHITETHORN

JULY 16, 1970 - NOVEMBER 11, 2020

HUSBAND. FATHER. HERO.

TO WHATEVER END.

A breeze shifted through the air, moving Aelin’s hair across her face and she could have sworn it was warm. She could have sworn she smelled the familiar pine and snow scent that she would always and forever associate with her husband. Aelin could have sworn it felt like a lover’s caress, like fingers brushing away the tear that slipped down her cheek.

Aelin wasn’t sure how long she sat there, surrounded by their children. Each of them swapped their favorite stories about their late father, about what they missed most. All of them cried enough tears that Terrasen could hit a rare drought but the patch of grass they held each other in would still be green as ever.

When they finally stood, the air had dropped a few more degrees because the sun had never come out to keep them warm. It made that fleeting warm breeze even more bizarre, the one that smelled like him, considering the one that rustled the leaves on the nearby tree was cold enough to bite.

Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw him. She swore she saw a head of silver hair sock his head in her direction, but she blinked and he was gone, her oldest son stepping up in the place she thought she saw him, felt him, smelled him. Silver hair faded into a golden blonde that matched her own, but the eyes that peered down at her were as bright green as his father’s. Aelin felt her face crumple as she leaned into him, resting her temple against his shoulder. She inhaled hard, desperate for that pine scent to feel her lungs, desperate to erase the last year of her life without him. Desperate to pretend that he was still alive and it was his shoulder that she put her weight on.

But it wasn’t. And it wouldn’t be.

Still, as she looped her arm through his and started to walk back toward the car with their kids, she spared a last glance over her shoulder, projecting their vows into the void of the world: to whatever end.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but Aelin was almost positive she heard his voice whisper it back as another strange, warm breeze wrapped around her and left her completely breathless.