#for two years my life has felt like it was on pause and now that I am almost at the end of this fucking tunnel
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isolation caved in, i adore you; the sound of your skin
synopsis: you and minjeong get caught up in a dating scandal — all along, she realises she has been in love with you.
warnings: flufffff
w/c: 3k+
a/n: another short story…it’s 2:30am and i couldn’t really sleep.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the faint buzzing of your phone on the nightstand jolted you awake, the sound cutting through the quiet of your small apartment; the dim light from the screen cast shadows across the room as you reached for it, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
minjeong’s name lit up on display, accompanied by a string of missed calls that made your stomach twist with unease.
she never called like this, not unless something was wrong.
“hello?” your voice came out rough, still thick with sleep, as you pressed the phone to your ear.
there was silence for a moment, save for the faint sound of her breathing on the other end. you sat up straighter, the worry bubbling up in your chest.
“mindungie?” you tried again, softer this time. “what’s going on? are you okay?”
her reply was a shaky inhale, followed by a soft sniffle that made your heart drop. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “i didn’t want to bother you.”
“you’re crying,” you said, your voice laced with concern. “don’t apologise, i’m here.”
another pause, heavy and suffocating. then, in a voice so small it was almost inaudible, she said: “i’m in another dating scandal.”
your chest tightened at her words. she had faced scandals before — being in the public eye in one of the most popular girl groups in the world meant she was no stranger to baseless rumours and invasive speculation but hearing her cry over it was completely new.
“what’s sm doing about it this time?” you asked, already trying to piece together a plan in your head. “aren’t they handling it?”
“they want me to take a hiatus,” she said bitterly, her voice trembling. “alongside my recent surgery; they think it’s the best way to let things settle, but it’s not just about me this time. it’s affecting other people…people who don’t deserve this.”
your heart ached at the frustration in her voice and the way she sounded so defeated. you hated this; hated how the world wouldn’t leave her alone, wouldn’t let her live without dissecting every moment of her life.
“it’ll settle down,” you reassured gently, even though you weren’t sure if you believed it yourself. “it always does. people will move on to the next thing soon enough.”
“not this time,” she mumbled, her voice quieter now, tinged with something close to despair. “this one’s different.”
you frowned, the weight of her words sinking in. “what do you mean? who are they saying you’re with?”
there was a long pause, the kind that made your chest tighten with dread. you could hear her breathing, uneven and shallow, as if she was trying to muster the courage to answer.
finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “you.”
the word hung in the air and for a moment, you weren’t sure you’d heard her correctly.
“me?” you repeated, making sure you heard correctly.
“yeah,” she said, letting out a bitter, shaky laugh. “they’ve got all these photos…ones from when we were kids and some from the last time i visited busan. they’re saying we’ve been secretly dating for years.”
your mind raced as her words sank in. you thought of all the moments the two of you had shared, ones that were so innocent but now felt heavy under the weight of her confession.
the time she’d visited you at the restaurant, laughing as she stole bites of your food; the long walks along haeundae beach, where she’d tease you about how much slower you’d gotten since you were kids.
moments that had always felt like yours alone — twisted into something you hadn’t prepared for.
“that’s ridiculous,” you replied firmly, though your voice wavered just slightly. “they’re just making things up like they always do. anyone who knows us would know it’s not true.”
“it’s not about what’s true,” she added, her voice breaking again. “it’s about what they can make people believe. and they’ve done a good job. it looks…convincing.”
your stomach twisted at her words, the dread settling deep in your chest. “have you looked at it?”
“yeah,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “and it’s bad. really bad.”
you clenched your jaw, anger and protectiveness bubbling up inside you. “minjeong, you know none of this matters, right? the people who care about you, the people who know us, you — they won’t believe it.”
“but it’s not just about me,” her voice trembled. “it’s about you, too. they’re saying things — terrible things about you, digging into your life. our lives in busan. i didn’t want this for you.”
you’d always known the risks of being close to her, of staying a constant in her life even after she became a star but you never imagined being dragged into her world like this; exposed in a way that felt so violating.
“i don’t care what they say about me,” you insisted, though the knot in your stomach told a different story. “what matters is you. we’ll get through this. we always do.”
she let out a shaky breath, her voice softer now. “please don’t look it up,” she begged. “it’ll only hurt you, and i don’t want that. promise me, please.”
the curiosity was already gnawing at you, but the desperation in her voice was enough to make you falter.
“i’ll try,” you answered eventually, though you weren’t sure if you could keep that promise. “but you’re not alone in this, okay? you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. and you’ve done nothing wrong.”
she didn’t respond right away, but you could hear her breathing slow slightly, as if your words had brought her even the smallest bit of comfort.
“can i come over?” she asked after a moment, her voice small and tentative. “i’m back in busan for a week or two.”
“of course,” you said without hesitation. “you can stay as long as you need.”
“thank you,” she whispered and for the first time since the call started, her voice carried a faint trace of relief. “i’ll be there in a minute, see you, y/n.”
“okay,” you hummed with a smile. “be safe.”
when the call ended, you set your phone down and leaned back against the headboard, staring at the faint glow of the streetlights outside your window. your mind was a storm of thoughts — worry for her, anger at the situation…and a quiet, nagging fear about what this would mean for the fragile boundary you’d built between friendship and the feelings you harboured for years.
as much as you hated to admit it; a small selfish part of you felt the weight of her words differently. they thought she was in love with you. and no matter how false the rumour was, it struck a chord in you that you tried to bury a long time ago.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the small kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of the spoon against the teacup as you stirred the honey into the warm chamomile tea. the warm light above the stove cast a faint glow on the countertop, highlighting the steam rising from the mug.
on the side, you’d set out a small plate of chocolates — the mint chocolate ones she always liked. it wasn’t much, but it was all you could think of in the middle of the night, your hands moving on autopilot.
your mind drifted, as it often did when it came to her. minjeong. winter. her name alone carried a weight in your chest that you’d grown used to over the years but never quite knew how to handle.
you have loved her for as long as you could remember, though you’d never dared to say it out loud — not to her, not even to yourself most days.
it was easier to keep it buried, to cherish the friendship you had without risking everything by wanting more. but now, it felt like the fragile balance you’d built was falling apart.
this scandal, these rumours — they were forcing everything to the surface and it terrified you.
what if she believed it? what if she looked at you and saw the truth you’d been hiding all this time? worse, what if it ruined everything?
the thought of losing her was unbearable.
resting your hands on the counter to steady yourself, you heaved out a sigh. the fear clawed at you; relentless and unyielding. you didn’t want her to think there was any truth to the rumours or make her feel uncomfortable around you. all you wanted was to protect her.
your gaze drifted to your phone on the counter, the curiosity too strong to ignore. she’d begged you not to look, but your fingers moved before you could stop them, typing your name and hers into the search bar.
almost instantly, the top result caught your eye — a youtube link with over a million views. the title read: aespa winter and y/n: secret love through the years.
your stomach dropped as you hesitated, then tapped on the link. the video began playing, a soft piano melody accompanying a slideshow of photos.
the first few were ones you recognised: pictures from your childhood, back when you and minjeong were just kids running around the streets of busan; they were harmless, ones you’ve shared to the public.
then came the more recent ones and your breath hitched. you didn’t even know where the fans had found these photos, but they all told the same story.
the two of you, close and comfortable, looking at each other like no one else existed. in every frame, your gaze lingered on her like she held the universe in her hands.
and then came the details — the matching necklaces, the ones you’d ordered from japan for her 21st birthday, customised with her initials and a small star charm. the video even included clips of minjeong talking about you in interviews, her voice warm and full of affection as she called you her rock, her safe place.
it was overwhelming and your chest tightened with a mix of emotions — fear, longing, guilt. you hadn’t realised how obvious your feelings were, how much they’d been captured in fleeting moments you thought were private.
you closed the video quickly, the knot in your throat threatening to choke you. you couldn’t let her see the truth, not like this.
a sudden, soft knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. your heart jumped as you turned towards the sound. wiping your hands on your toy story pyjamas, you walked to the door and opened it slowly.
there she was.
minjeong stood in the hallway, her small frame wrapped in an oversized hoodie, the sleeves hanging past her hands. a black hat and mask covered most of her face, but her red and swollen eyes were unmistakable.
she looked utterly exhausted and before you could say a word, she stepped inside and crashed into you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she buried her face in your shoulder.
her body trembled as she started crying again, her muffled sobs breaking whatever composure you’d managed to hold onto.
“i’m so sorry,” she choked out between breaths, her voice cracking. “i’m so, so sorry.”
you froze for a moment, overwhelmed by her sudden closeness, but then your arms moved on instinct, holding her tightly.
“hey,” you whispered, your voice soft and steady, though your heart was racing. “it’s okay. you don’t have to apologise.”
“it’s not okay,” she sobbed, her words coming out in gasps. “you don’t deserve this and i don’t know how to fix it.”
you closed your eyes, resting your chin gently on the top of her head. “we’ll figure it out,” you reassured, your voice firm despite the storm inside you. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here.”
she clung to you like a lifeline, her sobs slowly quieting as you held her and closed the door behind you. the scent of her floral shampoo filled your senses, grounding you in the moment. you didn’t know how long you stood there but you didn’t care. all that mattered was her and the promise you’d made to be there, no matter what.
when she finally pulled back, her face was flushed, her eyes red and puffy. she wiped at them with her sleeve, looking small and vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.
“thank you,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “for everything.”
you shook your head, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “you don’t have to thank me, mindungie. just…come sit on the couch. i made us some tea.”
her lips twitched into the faintest of smiles; trailing behind you. her presence filled the space with a warmth that was both comforting and heart-wrenching.
as you handed her the cup of tea and watched her take a small sip, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep the truth hidden — how much further you could pretend you weren’t in love with her when every moment like this made it harder to breathe.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the cup, her favourite one; chipped and its colours fading, now sat on the coffee table as she curled up at the far end of your small couch; knees drawn to her chest, her oversized hoodie drowning her small frame. the moonlight streamed through the half-drawn curtains, bathing the room in a soft silver glow.
you just sat beside her, unsure how to navigate the weight of her silence.
finally, she broke it. “i don’t care what happens to me,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make your chest ache. “but you…i’m worried about you.”
you blinked, taken aback. “me?” you said, your voice quiet. “you don’t have to worry about me.”
“how can i not?” she replied, her eyes locking with yours, wide and filled with worry. “they’re going to dig into your life, say horrible things about you. i can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because of me.”
you sighed, leaning back against the couch. her concern was touching, but unnecessary. “minjeong, i’ve lived my whole life being just another face in the crowd. no one’s ever cared enough about me to say anything, let alone horrible things. i can handle it.”
“you don’t know what it’s like,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t know how cruel people can be when they think they know your story.”
“maybe i don’t, but i know this much: i can handle petty comments from strangers. what i can’t handle is seeing you like this. so don’t waste your energy worrying about me, okay?”
her lips trembled and for a moment, you thought she was going to cry again. instead, she looked away, her blonde hair falling messily into her face.
“you’re too kind, you know that?” she began softly. “sometimes i think you’re too good for me.”
you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her words, but the vulnerability in her voice stopped you. before you could respond, she turned back to you, her gaze hesitant. “can you…can you hold me?” she asked shyly, her voice almost timid. “just for a while?”
your breath got caught in your throat, but you nodded, shifting closer to her on the couch. she leaned into you, her head resting against your shoulder as her body relaxed against yours. you wrapped your arms around her gently, feeling the warmth of her against you and the steady rise and fall of her chest.
the moonlight caught her features, highlighting the soft curve of her jaw, the delicate slope of her nose, the way her messy blonde hair framed her face.
even like this — tired, vulnerable, with tear-streaked cheeks and swollen eyes, she was breathtaking.
your fingers found their way to her hair, running through the strands gently and you felt her sigh against you, a soft, contented sound that made your heart ache.
“sometimes,” she murmured, her voice muffled against your hoodie, “i wish i wasn’t famous. i wish i’d chosen a normal life, stayed here in busan. with you.”
your heart squeezed at her words, but you forced yourself to keep your tone steady. “you were meant to be a star, minjeong,” you said softly. “you’ve always been destined for it. even when we were kids, you had this…this light about you. people were always going to notice.”
“but i didn’t want them to notice this,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness. “i didn’t want them to hurt you.”
you didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet, your fingers continuing their soothing rhythm through her hair. her words, though, lingered in your mind, intertwining with thoughts you’d been trying to suppress all night.
what would it be like, you wondered, if she truly felt the same way about you? if the rumours weren’t just rumours but a glimpse into something real?
you’d spent so long convincing yourself that she was out of reach — that her world was too far removed from yours for anything more than friendship.
what could you even possibly offer her? your simple life, a tiny apartment and a small restaurant?
there was nothing about you that could ever impress her, nothing that could compare to the glitz and glamour of her world.
and yet, here she was, leaning against you, seeking comfort in your arms. it felt too good to be true and you hated the way your heart clung to the moment, desperate to believe it meant something more.
“what are you thinking about?” her voice broke through your thoughts, soft but curious.
you froze for a moment, your hand stilling in her hair. “nothing.”
she pulled back just enough to look up at you, her face still close enough that you could see the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes. “don’t lie to me,” she muttered, her tone gentle but insistent. “you’ve got that look on your face, like you’re a million miles away.”
you hesitated, unsure how much to tell her. your mind raced for an excuse, something lighthearted to distract her, but the weight of her gaze made it impossible to lie.
“i was just…thinking about us,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “about how different our lives are. and how…how lucky i am to still have you in mine even though you’re a big star now.”
her expression softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in her eyes; something you couldn’t quite place. before you could dwell on it, she leaned back into you, resting her head against your chest this time.
“you’re not lucky,” she smiled. “i am.”
her words settled over you like a blanket, warm and comforting, yet heavy with meaning. you didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent, holding her with your eyes closed as the moonlight bathed the room in its quiet glow.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the soft chirping of birds filtered through the open window, mingling alongside the morning sun spilling into the room. the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake was warmth — minjeong’s warmth, her body pressed close to yours, her head nestled against your shoulder, an arm draped across your waist and her soft breaths tickled your neck.
you froze, your heart immediately racing as the situation fully sank in. it had been years since you’d been this close to her — the space you’d carefully maintained between you was gone and the intimacy of the moment made your chest tighten with equal parts longing and fear.
as your eyes fluttered open, her blonde hair was the first thing to greet you, falling into her face in strands that glowed golden in the morning light. her cheeks were slightly flushed, lips parted ever so slightly as she remained lost in sleep. she looked peaceful, so beautiful.
for a second, you let yourself admire her.
then reality hit and panic crept in. this was too close, too much. you couldn’t risk her realising your true feelings as you carefully shifted, trying not to wake her, but your movements caused her to stir.
her eyes opened slowly, blinking as they adjusted to the light. when they focused on you, a soft smile tugged at her lips.
“good morning,” she mumbled, her voice still laced with sleep.
“morning,” you replied, your voice awkward and stiff as you immediately shifted away, creating a small but noticeable gap between you. “sorry. i didn’t mean to, uh, get so close.”
her smile faltered slightly, her brows knitting together in a small frown. “why are you apologising?” she asked, her tone soft but tinged with confusion.
“i just…i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you sat up, rubbing the back of your neck; heart still racing. “i’ll make us some breakfast.”
before she could respond, you were already on your feet, making your way to the kitchen. she sat up slowly, watching you with a look you couldn’t decipher.
“let me help,” she offered, already starting to move.
“no, no,” you said, turning back to wave her off. “just sit on the couch, okay? i’ve got this.”
she hesitated but eventually relented, settling back onto the couch with a small sigh. pulling out her phone, she began to tap at the screen, though her gaze kept drifting back to you as you moved around the kitchen.
she wasn’t texting anyone, though — not really. instead, she found herself scrolling through the same photos and videos she’d seen the night before, the so-called “evidence” of your supposed relationship. each image showed the two of you at different points in your lives, some familiar, some she didn’t even know existed. but it wasn’t the photos themselves that caught her attention — it was you.
the way you looked at her in every single one of them. it was so obvious now, in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to notice before.
your gaze was always soft, filled with something she couldn’t quite name but felt deeply in her chest. she stared at one photo in particular, a candid shot of you smiling at her during one of her almost weekly visits to busan. the look in your eyes made her heart flutter.
it can’t be, she thought, her heart beating faster as she lowered her phone — but the thought lingered, refusing to leave. she glanced at you, watching as you moved around the kitchen with practised ease, cracking eggs into a bowl and chopping green onions with quick motions.
the smell of something sizzling in a pan soon filled the room and she couldn’t help but think about how natural this felt; waking up to you, watching you prepare breakfast as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
you were so focused, so determined to make everything perfect for her and the thought made her chest tighten.
her phone buzzed in her hand, a message from jimin lighting up the screen.
‘are you sure you and y/n aren’t dating?’
she ignored it, setting the device aside as her attention drifted back to you. her thoughts were a mess, swirling with confusion and a strange kind of hope she wasn’t sure how to name.
you turned then, catching her gaze, and the world seemed to still. her heart skipped a beat as you smiled, holding up a plate.
“breakfast’s nearly ready,” you smiled, the warmth of your voice spreading all the way to her chest. “hope you’re hungry.”
she nodded, her throat feeling tight as she tried to push down the growing emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
“i am,” she managed to say, her voice softer than she intended. “also sleepy.”
and as she watched you turn back to the stove, the realisation hit her all at once, unrelenting and undeniable.
i’m in love with her.
the two of you sat at the small dining table, plates of warm, steaming food in front of you. you made made simple dishes — scrambled eggs, leftover rice and grilled mackerel with a side of kimchi.
it wasn’t extravagant, but she ate it like it was a gourmet meal, a soft hum of satisfaction escaping her as she took her first bite.
“i missed this,” she said, her voice muffled slightly as she chewed. “your cooking, i mean. it’s so much better than anything i get in seoul.”
“don’t let your manager hear you say that,” you teased, grinning as you poured her a glass of water. “they’ll think you’re living off convenience store meals.”
“i practically am,” she admitted with a laugh, her nose scrunching in that way it always did when she found something genuinely funny. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed this.”
the conversation drifted into easy territory, the kind of nostalgic reminiscing that always seemed to happen when you were together. you found yourself laughing as she recounted a time in middle school when she’d gotten detention for climbing onto the school roof to retrieve a kite you’d accidentally let go of.
you shook your head. “you were always such a shy troublemaker, how you ended up as an idol, i’ll never know.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” she shot back, mock-offended. “i’m responsible now. mostly.”
“sure you are,” you said, smirking. “remember your first boyfriend? what was his name again? jonghoon? jinhoon?”
“it was junghoon,” she corrected, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “and we were, like, twelve. it doesn’t even count.”
“oh, it counts,” you said, leaning back in your chair with a grin. “you were so serious about him. always writing him those sappy little notes.”
“don’t remind me,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “i can’t believe i ever thought that was romantic.”
“hey, at least you had a boyfriend,” you said, unable to resist teasing her. “i’ve got nothing to compare to.”
she dropped her hands, her expression shifting into something more curious. “why is that, anyway? is there no one special in your life? i’ve been meaning to ask.”
the question caught you off guard, your smile faltering for just a moment before you quickly recovered.
“if there was, you’d be the first to know,” you said, nudging her foot under the table. “don’t be stupid.”
her expression softened at your words, a small smile playing on her lips, but you weren’t sure why.
trying to lighten the mood, you added with a grin, “though, if you give me jimin’s number, maybe i’ll reconsider.”
her reaction was immediate. her brows furrowed, and her smile disappeared as she stabbed at her rice with her chopsticks.
“you’re kidding, right?” she said, her tone sharper than you expected.
you blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. “obviously,” you chuckled, but she frowned deeper. “come on, winter. it was a joke.”
“well, it’s not funny,” she muttered, her gaze fixed on her plate.
“why are you getting so worked up?” you asked, tilting your head to study her. “what’s it to you if i joke about jimin?”
she didn’t answer right away, her jaw tightening as she shoved a piece of mackerel into her mouth.
when she finally spoke, her tone was clipped. “it’s just…weird, okay? she’s not even your type.”
“oh, and you know my type now?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “you haven’t even see me with any girl.”
she looked up at you then, her eyes narrowing slightly. “yeah, i do.”
the tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. you weren’t sure what to make of her reaction — it was so unlike her to get upset over something so small. but then, as you watched her, the realisation began to dawn on you.
she’s jealous, you thought, the idea almost too absurd to entertain.
you decided to test the waters, leaning forward with a small, teasing smile. “minjeong,” you said, your voice light. “are you jealous?”
her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked it, looking away with a scoff. “don’t be ridiculous.”
“you’re jealous,” you said, your grin widening. “oh my god, you’re actually jealous.”
“i’m not!” she insisted, her cheeks flushing as she crossed her arms defensively. “it’s just—ugh, forget it.”
her reaction only made you laugh, the tension between you dissolving as quickly as it had appeared. she glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it, and eventually, she let out a small, begrudging laugh of her own.
“you’re impossible,” she said, shaking her head as she picked up her chopsticks again.
“and you’re adorable when you’re mad,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
she froze for a moment, her cheeks reddening further and you felt your own face heat up as you realised what you’d said.
but instead of snapping at you, she simply looked at you, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged again, heavy with something unspoken.
“just eat your breakfast,” she said finally, her voice softer now and you nodded, your heart still racing as you focused on your plate, wondering what, exactly, had just happened.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the next few days passed in a quiet rhythm that felt almost too perfect to last. mornings were slow and easy, filled with soft conversations over coffee and the occasional sound of minjeong humming to herself as she wandered around your small apartment.
afternoons were spent watching movies, cooking together, or simply lying on the couch; tangled up in blankets and each other.
it felt normal in a way that was disarming, like the two of you had slipped into a version of life where nothing else existed — no dating scandals and pressure, just the comfort of being together.
it scared you how easily you’d fallen into this routine, how much it felt like home. every small touch, laugh, every shared glance seemed to chip away at the walls you’d spent years building around your heart.
and with each passing day, it became harder to ignore the truth you’d buried for so long — you were still in love with her and being this close to her now was both a blessing and a curse.
for her part, she seemed quieter than usual, her gaze lingering on you a little too often, her smiles softer, more hesitant. she hadn’t brought up the scandal again, but you could feel the weight of it hanging over her, a tension that never quite left her shoulders.
one night, you decided to close things out with one of her favourite movies, tenet. she was practically giddy as she set it up, her excitement a stark contrast to the more subdued moments of the past few days.
“you’re going to love this,” she geeked out, her eyes lighting up as she settled onto the couch beside you. “it’s so clever. you have to pay attention, though.”
“you realise you say that about every confusing movie,” you teased, earning a playful shove from her.
two and a half hours later, the credits rolled, and you found yourself lying on your side, facing her. your arm was wrapped loosely around her waist, her head resting against your shoulder. the movie had been a blur of time loops and action sequences, none of which had made any sense to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
your attention had been more on her than anything else — the way her lips twitched into a small smile during her favourite scenes, the way she unconsciously leaned closer to you as the story unfolded.
“so,” she began, her voice soft and teasing, “what did you think?”
you groaned dramatically, tightening your arm around her waist. “i think i have no idea what just happened.”
her jaw dropped in mock offense and she pushed at your chest. “you’re kidding! how could you not get it? it’s brilliant!”
“oh, i got it,” you grinned. “something about going backwards in time, saving the world and…i don’t know, doing a little dance?”
“you’re impossible,” she muttered, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.
“you’re adorable when you’re frustrated,” you replied without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them as you laughed.
her smile faltered, her cheeks flushing slightly as she stared at you, her expression suddenly turning serious.
the laughter that came so easily from you, the warmth of your skin pressed against hers — it all felt too much and not enough at the same time.
she didn’t know when it started. maybe it had been years ago, back when the two of you were just kids, chasing the tide and dreaming of futures that felt so far away. or maybe it was more recent, in the stolen moments when she would visit you between schedules, sitting in your tiny apartment and making her favourite dishes and feeling more at home than she ever did in her dorm.
but tonight, as the credits rolled and your soft laughter filled the quiet, it clicked.
it was you. it had always been you.
the realisation settled over her like a wave, overwhelming and undeniable. you were the missing piece, the thing she had been searching for without even realising it.
the void she’d felt for so long, the ache that no amount of fame or success could fill — it was simply you.
“y/n,” she said softly, her voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “what are we doing?”
your heart skipped a beat, her question pulling you sharply out of the playful banter. “what do you mean?”
“this,” she said, gesturing between the two of you. “us. spending all this time together, acting like…” she trailed off, her gaze dropping to where your arm was still wrapped around her. “acting like we’re more than just friends.”
you swallowed hard, your chest tightening as her words settled over you. “i don’t know,” you admitted. “but i know that i don’t want it to end.”
her eyes flicked back up to yours, wide and searching. “but what about everything else? what happens when i go back to seoul? what happens if people find out about this and they…they ruin your life?”
“minjeong,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “my life isn’t perfect, but it’s mine. and if being with you means dealing with a little chaos, then so be it. i’ve handled worse.”
“you don’t understand,” she said, her voice faltering. “it’s not just a little chaos. it’s people prying into your life, twisting your every word, making you out to be something you’re not. you have a normal life, y/n. i don’t want to be the reason you lose that.”
you reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “you’re not going to ruin anything and my life stopped being normal the second you walked into it. and there’s nothing in this world i’d trade you for.”
her breath hitched at your words, her gaze searching yours as if trying to find some hint of doubt. “but what if it’s not enough? what if i’m not enough?”
“you’re everything,” you said without hesitation, your words filled with a sincerity that left no room for doubt. “you always have been.”
her lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. instead, she watched you with so much adoration in her eyes and closed the small distance between you, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as hesitant as it was certain.
it was soft and gentle, like the answer to a question neither of you had dared to ask.
you responded instinctively, your hand moving to the back of her neck as you deepened the kiss, pouring years of unspoken feelings into the moment. her fingers tangled in your hair and her body melted against yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
when you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, you could feel her breath against your lips, warm and shaky.
“i think…” she started, her voice trembling, “i think i’ve been in love with you for a long time.”
your heart swelled at her words, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “you’re not the only one,” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. “i’ve hid how i felt for too long.”
“but we’re here now, aren’t we?”
a soft, watery laugh escaped her as she leaned in again, her lips finding yours in another kiss — this one deeper, more certain, like the beginning of something neither of you had dared to hope for.
and in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt like the rest of the world could wait.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the end.
#kpop x reader#kpop gg#aespa x reader#kpop imagines#winter x reader#minjeong x reader#winter#heliooosss#aespa imagines
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gave you all my best me's (i)
Description: Aemond needs a fake-girlfriend. It's a good thing that he has leverage over his nephew's ex-girlfriend.
Pairing: (past! jacaerys velaryon/reader), aemond targaryen/reader
Notes: I wanted to rewrite this fanfic before writing a bonus chapter. I'm not a big fan of the old version of this: you're losing me. TWO PARTS SO COMMENT TO GET TAGGED.
It is a beautiful thing to be admired for your talents, but when the media begins digging into your personal life - it is difficult to decipher where one draws a line. "When are you getting married?" The late-night host asks.
You answer him with an awkward chuckle.
Despite your social media branding - you longed for marriage, a white picket fence, and children. "There's so much more to life than getting married," you pursed your lips into a thin line. You could already see yourself in tomorrow morning's tabloids - trending on Twitter AND Tiktok with a witty hashtag.
"I agree, but for other people, it's a milestone moment for them. Is it not in your plans to get married in the future? Or is it an if it happens, it happens kind of thing?" The man continues to inquire.
You forced a smile on your face.
You did want to get married, but it's not in Jace's plans. He's the type of man who goes from hotel to hotel - the type of man who doesn't have his own apartment because he likes to act like a cowboy. Jace is the type of man who'd wear speedos with Birkenstocks. He does not ever see himself getting married, but he sees himself staying with you forever.
"I, unfortunately, don't see myself getting married. I mean respect for the people who are married, but for me, it's not really a necessity because I already see myself staying with this one person my entire life, and for me, I don't feel the need to get married." You explained, echoing the words that Jace whispered to you last night.
"- but yeah, if it happens, it happens." You rolled your eyes.
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You placed your Le Smoking YSL Jacket loudly on the table, hoping that Jacaerys would take a hint and know that you've finally arrived. It has already been three-weeks after the viral interview, and he didn't seem bothered by the attention.
"I missed you," you smiled at him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He always smells like vanilla. "- did you watch the interview?" You asked, pulling away from the embrace. He returns back to typing on his 3-year-old Macbook. "I watched it," he confirms.
You took a deep breath, which probably means that his family has already watched it. "I'm sorry my PR manager forgot to warn me. I seriously felt like a deer caught in headlights," you complained, pausing to see if he was mad.
Jacaerys is the oldest son of Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen. He is the scion of the two oldest families in America. His great-great-great something on both sides came to this country on the Mayflower - and thus, they took extreme precautions when it came to safeguarding their privacy. Rhaenyra was already adamant about allowing her son to write his little books, and now that you were in the picture...
"It's fine, I hope they stop asking about that marriage thing." A sigh escapes his mouth, and you can hear him clacking on his keyboard - typing without an end. "Maybe it's a sign for us to talk seriously about the topic." You begin.
"Marriage is for people-pleasers. We spend a lot of money on this one celebration where everyone gets to eat and dance, but marriage doesn't mean being with someone forever." He articulates, unable to say, that he doesn't want to repeat his parents' mistakes and that he doesn't want to live in a bickering home.
"I want to get married," you blurted out.
He responds with silence. It is obvious that he is thinking of an appropriate response - but you know that the answer is no. "I have everything that I could ever want in the world, a perfect career, a perfect boyfriend, a perfect house. The only things that I want now are marriage and babies, Jace." You continued to explain, and his face dropped to the floor.
You reach for his hands, entwining them with yours. He gazes up from his laptop, and he stares right into your eyes. "We're not going to be like your parents." You promised.
"We aren't a hundred percent sure of that. I can't even promise you everlasting love, I can't even promise you that I can love you with the same strength every day." He tilts his head. Which leads you to believe that the only reason he hasn't married you yet - is because he doesn't love you at all.
"I know, but you choose me every day. You choose us every day, and that is the same thing as love." You persuaded.
You could sense the reluctance in his movements. "We're fighting all the time. I haven't seen you in almost a month. Getting married is not going to fix our problems." His voice softens. He loves you with all of his heart, but he doesn't know how to show that love without first ruining it.
"Let's break up," he proposed.
He was expecting you to say no, like all the other times before, but this time - you retreat silently. You grab your things and you leave his hotel room.
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archiebald22: OMG WHY?? DIDN'T SHE JUST HAVE AN INTERVIEW WITH JIMMY FALLON 😭
pussydaposi: This is my roman empire
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(ONE YEAR LATER)
nameofficial: I Love You, I'm Sorry OUT NOW!
liked 1,293,012 others
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sacramentoLove: When are you gonna pay ur taxes 🇪🇸
Destination12: Shakira x Y/N Collab cuz they both don't pay taxes to the Spanish government
oompaloompa: Y/N singing bella ciao link in bio 😭
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"Who's the guy?" You whispered in Lucie's ears, and she turned around to look at the man who had been staring at you for the past five minutes. "Holy fuck, that's Aemond Targaryen. His family literally owns half of Texas." She whisper-shouted.
It didn't help with the fact that the man was smoking hot. Lucie stares at her phone for half a minute. "Wait, can I leave alone for just a second? Cecil forgot to bring his polo, and the receptionist is not letting him in." She groaned. "I'll be fine," you gave her a slight smile.
Lucie leaves your side, and Aemond begins walking towards you. "(Your Name)," you introduced yourself with a smile. "Aemond Targaryen," he shakes your hand.
This could be the beginning of something new...something different. "You don't look like the type of person who'd spend her weekends in old country clubs," he smiles charmingly. "I came here with my friend, Lucie. She's supposed to have a date with this guy, but he seems to have forgotten the rule of the country club." You chuckled.
Aemond tilts his head softly, and he whispers. "Always wear a shirt with a collar." He laughs.
"It's such a preposterous rule, I bet you that I'll have to hear about her boyfriend's expensive suit and how it is preposterous that he wasn't allowed inside." You giggled.
"I bet you that the staff doesn't get paid enough to deal with people like them," he led you to another part of the gardens. This part was exclusive only to esteemed members of the club, which probably means that this Aemond fellow is important. "I heard that a beautiful singer was going to be here. I had to my brother's golfcart to make it in the Clubhouse in time," his eyes narrowed.
Of course, the people that he heard those sentiments from weren't exactly appreciative of your presence. It was one of his mother's cousins who said something about these idiotic celebrities eating in the place where they were eating. "Oh please, you don't need to sugarcoat their words. I bet you that Lucie is scandalized for bringing me," you snorted.
You hate spending time around these old money folks. In your eyes, they've spent the majority of their wealth, and the only thing that they have left is their snootyness. "They're all idiots anyways," Aemond rolls his eyes, pleased that you weren't one of those cunts who'd kiss ass to the wealthy.
His phone rings, and he reaches for the call card inside of his wallet. "I'd love to take you out on dinner sometimes, not here, but you choose where to eat. Please call me as soon as possible," he placed a hand on your shoulder.
He bids farewell, realizing that his business partners were calling him already.
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It was a surprise to see that Aemond had a follow-through; the next day, he had already arranged a dinner with you. "I honestly had no idea where you'd want to eat. I mean, I'm sorry for bringing you to this small diner." You chuckled.
Rich people can be so banal sometimes, they eat at the same five restaurants, they wear the same clothes from the same five ateliers, and they all go to the same yoga studio, for goodness sake. You knew that if you wanted Aemond to consider you worthy of his attention - you needed to stick out. Which leads you to this diner, the real heart of NYC.
"It's beautiful. I've never been here before." He looks around with an appreciative smile. "I used to eat here a lot when I was a college student, I couldn't afford anything else - and the food here seriously tastes better than some Michelin restaurants. It's nice here, it feels so ... raw." You struggled to find the words.
The food was amazing, but the community that this diner constantly fed - it's a thing for the books. The cab drivers, the hotdog stand sellers, and the college students. It is home. "It must be hard being famous," he shoves a piece of pizza inside of his mouth.
You licked your lips.
"I've been famous for as long as I can remember. I don't know how to live without all of the cameras." You pierced the pancake with your fork, bringing it to your mouth. "I need your help." He places both of his hands on the table.
"Where?" Your eyebrows merged together.
"My father is dying. He says that he'll leave his entire inheritance to the first person who gets married in our family. My siblings and my nephews are fighting for that spot, seeing that my older sister doesn't want any ties with us. Now, I know that there are cases against you by the Spanish government, and I can make all of that go away," Aemond offers.
"I'd love to help you but I'm really good at making mistakes," your eyes narrowed, weighting in your choices.
His eyes softened.
"The only mistake that you've made is allowing your father to control your finances. He's in jail now, and if you're not going to fix yourself, you're going to end up there too." He says.
You play with the rings on your finger, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. "So, I marry you, and you clear up all my charges?" You inquired.
"I fake our marriage, clear up your name, and give you $10 million to start again." He corrects.
"Alright then," you hummed. "Do we have a deal?" You smile.
He shakes your hand.
"We have a deal," he confirms.
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Being in a pretend relationship with Aemond was honestly one of the easiest things that you've ever done. He makes it really hard not to fall in love with him. The way that he places his hands inside of his pockets, the way that he gives you the sweetest smile - it almost makes you think that his feelings are genuine. It is not, you remind yourself.
You flick through the rack of dresses in front of you. "What are your parents like? Are they traditional, or are they as laid back as you?" You questioned. He pauses for a while, trying to find the words that would properly describe his parents.
"My dad is a traditional man. He likes guns, and he believes in the Second Amendment. He's a senile old man. My mother, however, is trendy, and she's warm up to you." He informs.
"Tell me more about your family," you pressed.
You needed to be prepared for this battle.
"My older brother is an armchair socialist. He's always complaining to our mother about some animals dying. He's a vegetarian, although he always orders Chipotle on Fridays. His morality is a grey compass," Aemond snorts.
You giggle too.
"Helaena, my older sister. She's my second older sister. I think she's the person that Aegon thinks he is. She's too busy running this non-profit for refugees, but you don't need to worry about her, she's kind." He comforts.
"Then, I have a little brother, Daeron. He doesn't like us. He'd much rather spend time with our uncle." He turns to look away. Your eyes land on the vintage white dress you've seen in Lucie's wardrobe, it's a dress that Chanel never showed the general populace. An iconic piece, but not famous enough that it would seem tacky.
His hands snake around your waist. "What?" Your eyebrows merged together, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, subtly pointing at the paparazzi that were standing outside of the boutique door. "Kiss me," he says, pulling your body closer - until you could smell his cologne.
"You are so demanding," you teased, reaching to cup his cheeks. Standing on your tiptoes as you pressed your lips together. The paparazzi outside of the door were caught in a frenzy, flashing lights of all colors greeted you.
He tastes like cherries and diet coke. It's intoxicating. A taste that is so different on your tongue. You pull away from the kiss - and he pretends to gasp at the sight of the paps outside of the door. "Let's go," he mouthed - pulling you into a deeper part of the store, where the media couldn't see.
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ynkittens: (fan sent the picture) Y/N L/N with mystery man in NYC. Who is this man???
liked by 92,239 others
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DoodleCop: OH MY GOD I miss her and Jace 🥺
YNNationSupport9: Stop, you're losing me
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Aemond stares at his phone, an indescribable frown on his face as it continues to vibrate due to the number of notifications sent to his personal account. "I didn't expect your fans to be this crazy," he mumbled, seeing his face shared all around Instagram.
"You did tell me that our relationship needed to be public to be believable," your eyes narrowed. "Yeah but now they're calling my personal number," he shows you his phone.
An amused chuckle exits your mouth.
"If you can't handle the smoke, don't start the fire." You shoved a piece of pastry inside of your mouth. Aemond slumps on the blue cloud couch and turns his phone off. He has been staying in your apartment for the past month now, after the whole scenario with the paparazzi the studio apartment that he was renting was no longer safe.
"Helaena has been blasting my other phone since yesterday. She's a really big fan of you," he smiles, pulling you closer to him until you are laying on his lap. "She sounds amazing, when are we going to meet?" You inquired, reaching for a book on the coffee table.
His fingers comb through your hair, untangling the knots that your hairbrush couldn't fix. "Maybe tomorrow during the family reunion? She kind of just shows up," he says.
He couldn't deny your beauty. As time grows, he slowly finds himself loving everything about you...from your gentleness to your fickle mindedness. You weren't satisfied with making a decision without first looking at every possible perspective. When someone does a bad deed, you say well, maybe it isn't their fault, maybe it's the way that society has treated them.
Even when the situation proves to be difficult, you still choose to be kind. It's just a summer thing, he tells himself because nothing beautiful ever chooses him. All the good things wilt in his hands.
He flicks a strand of your hair away from your face. "I'm a little nervous about tomorrow," you admit. "- I've never felt like I belonged, you know what I mean?" You scrunched up your nose, and he continued to massage your scalp.
"I'm so hesitant when it comes to attending these parties because when I was a kid, my dad took us to one of his black tie parties, and my mom let me wear this beautiful unicorn dress, but apparently, the black-tie rule was for everyone, regardless of age. The host didn't want me to go inside the halls with my pink glittery dress because it didn't reach past my ankles...one of my cousins pitied me so much. She let me borrow her dress, but it was too big on me." You flinched at the faint memory.
"I had to sit beside my mom the entire time, and all of the kids were staring at me like I had a third leg." Your teeth burrowed into your lower lips. "That sounds horrible," he frowns. "Which is why I promised to never look unfashionable ever again..." You say.
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nameofficial: our secret moments, in a crowded room. @aemondtargaryensapphires
liked by 1,293,012 others
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MaybeThisTime3: Rue, when was this?
aemondtargaryensapphires: ❤️🔥👸🏻 - nameofficial: ❤️
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Lucerys stuffs a large amount of vanilla ice cream inside of his mouth. "Did you check Instagram?" He teases his brother, continuing to play on his Nintendo Switch - almost smearing an entire spoonful of vanilla on the screen.
"Can you stop being annoying for five seconds?" Jacaerys rolled his eyes.
"He is so bothered," Joffrey giggled while scrolling on his phone. "I am not bothered," Jacaerys gritted his teeth.
"He's not bothered, but he's turning red!" Lucerys piped in once again. "I wonder if he'll take her to the reunion." Joffrey ponders, and a sigh escapes the oldest brother's mouth. Give you my wild. Give you a child. Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. Now, the only thing he's answered with is a different type of silence.
It's neither of your fault that the relationship ended. It was just too much of a chasm, your personalities were too different. You were the type of person to fight for the relationship, the type of person who disobeyed fate, and he is the opposite of that.
Because if something is meant to be, then the whole universe conspires for you to have it by your side. If it is meant to be - you wouldn't need to fight for it.
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You were wearing a white-satin dress that reached past your knees, it was embroidered with Swarovski crystals, truly a miracle that the dress ever held up. "Remember the story, I proposed on the beach, we didn't bring any cameras." He whispered, and you could sense his nervousness.
The car continues to drive inside a long entryway that curves to the side, you are greeted with tall bushes that cover the facade of the mansion. As you reach the third turn, the beautiful mansion is made known to you.
It was truly a sight to behold.
A mixture of French and Italian architecture was made even richer by the aged bricks that were used in constructing the estate. The mansion was about the same size as Central Park. It was clear that Aemond Targaryen was richer than God.
"You said family reunion," your lips pursed into a thin line. He gives you a stare, telling you that he didn't expect this many guests either. "My father must've invited his golfing buddies," he explains, regaining his composure.
He reaches for a box inside of his pockets. He opens it, showing you a beautiful emerald oval ring, a ring that is simple and elegant - a ring like you. "Are you ready to meet the vipers?" He smirks, placing the ring on your ring finger.
A doorman begins to open the doors to the car.
"If we wait until I'm ready, we'll be waiting forever." You plastered a smile on your face, straightening your posture, and exiting the car - making sure that everyone's eyes were on you.
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Jace freezes as he sees the faint silhouette of your body. His relationship with you ended on good terms; he was happy with the outcome, but seeing you a year later - brings him back to pleasant and unpleasant memories. He partly wishes that he was stupid enough to his ex-girlfriend, but he is smarter than that.
He knows that the only time that he was ever truly happy was when he was with you, and now you've left him. Now, the only thing that brings him back to those pleasant memories are the songs that you've written about him.
What a horrible day to be alive.
His jaw clenches, watching as his uncle's hands snake around your waist, the very same waist that his hand used to fit like a perfect puzzle in. He watches as Aemond leans to whisper something in your ear, and you giggle. He bets that the joke isn't funny at all.
"Isn't that (Your Name)?" Rhaenyra inquires, and suddenly, Jacaerys' hand feels clammy around the champagne flute. He desperately wants to puke. Rhaenyra's eyes softened instantly, heart heaving for her oldest son. "Oh Jace," she cooed and he forced a smile on his face - he took a lazy sip of his champagne, and the drink bubbles in his stomach.
"I'm alright, mom." He insists.
Jace still cannot understand why his heart longs for you. He has everything he wants - he has everything that you prevented him from achieving because you dreamed of marriage. Why is he missing the shackles that he allowed destiny to remove?
Aemond begins to march in his direction, a satisfied grin on the other man's face. Could he have known? Jace asks himself. "Jacey," the man teased, one hand wrapped around you, and the other hand on a glass of merlot. Aemond was absolutely glowing.
"Uncle Aemond," Jace answered.
"Have you met this lovely lady?" Aemond tilted his head, half-expecting you to smile warmly at his nephew, as you have done to all of his relatives, but he was greeted with silence. Your eyes trailed back and forth between Aemond and his nephew. "Uncle?" your eyebrows merged together.
"I'm too young to be an uncle. My sister had him early." He informs. "I didn't expect you to be here," Jace says plainly as if Aemond was not standing right beside you. "I could say the same thing," you replied, your grip on Aemond tightens.
Something shimmery on your fingers catches Jacaerys' eyes. An engagement ring. An oval emerald engagement ring - like the color that the other side of his family proudly wore. "Congratulations on the engagement," he greets, forcing himself to be happy. Marriage is the only thing that you didn't agree on with him - he found it useless, you found it monumental.
"Thank you," you and Aemond say in unison.
"When she's the one wrapped around your fingers, you have to make a fist." Aemond stares at your face. Jace could only hum in return, his throat felt dry again. "I know the feeling," he takes a sip of his champagne.
He curses himself for still having these feelings for you. He should have fought against the world to have you beside him. He should have taken you dancing, bowling, skating, singing - but he didn't, because he was too engrossed in his own little world, unaware that everything was unfolding outside of his bedroom window.
He takes another deep breath, the world is bigger than the stories inside of his laptop. He can't believe that it has taken him this long to figure that out.
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"Can you please sing something?" Helaena requests, flashing you her puppy eyes. You turned to look around you, and everyone was looking in your direction. Viserys raises an eyebrow as if asking for you to sing.
Daeron hands you one of his acoustic guitars.
"Do you have any song in mind?" You inquired, prepared to sing one of your love songs. "How did it end!" Helaena cheers, pulling Morghul (her dog) on her lap.
"That's a nice song that you've chosen," you forced a smile on your face. Of course, she chooses the one song about your breakup with Jace.
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aemondtargaryensapphires: beautiful ❤️
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helaenatargaryen: YOU ARE SO FAST WITH THESE HAHA
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Jace watches as the waiters begin to serve their food. It was a gourmet meal provided by his step-father's fine dining restaurant, the food was beautiful, and it had the right color. You couldn't help but feel out of place - like the girl who wore a unicorn dress to a black-tie event.
"I'm allergic, I can't eat this." You whispered, flashing Aemond a concerned look. "Sorry, Aemond was the one who confirmed the samples." Rhaenyra's voice sounded apologetic, and sad because she was the one who planned the entire event. "Oh, it's okay." You smiled.
"How long have you known each other?" Jace blurts out, swirling the champagne in his glass. The first thing that couples do while knowing each other - is going on a date, and if you've been on a date with him thousands of times, wouldn't Aemond know about your likes and dislikes?
"Nine months, and it's alright, you can have Aegon's salad. He only pretends to be vegan." Aemond switches your place with Aegon's who is currently occupied in the bathroom. "Thank you," you mumbled.
"Your brother is going to throw a fit once he sees that," Alicent interrupts. "Mom he won't even notice," Helaena looks at you with hearts on her eyes.
Jace could only raise his eyebrows. Nine months and, his uncle wasn't aware that you're allergic to lamb sauce. He bets that Aemond doesn't even know that your eyebrows merge together when you're angry. He bets that the other man doesn't even know that your favorite game is Overcooked, and you refuse to move to the next stage when you fail to reach all three stars.
He's losing you to a man that hardly knows you.
"Where did you meet?" Lucerys pipes in, taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake. "In the country club," Aemond smiles. He looks at you like you are the earth, and he is nothing but a moon that rotates around you. "Her friend Lucie Churchill, she introduced us to each other," Aemond lies.
Alicent smiles, a look of adoration on her face. Aemond has chosen the best possible woman to fall in love with, a woman who's mantle is heavy with her own achievements. "When are you getting married?" She chimes in, happy with the idea of having grandbabies.
"Soon, I've always wanted a summer wedding." You answered coyly. You glanced at him, and suddenly, this summer thing was beginning to look real. "The good ones never wait," Aemond smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
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Jace enters the balcony, seeing that you are sipping wine on your own and staring at the French skyline. The dress that you were wearing was now slightly wrinkled, and the ring on your finger was slightly loose.
"Are you sure?" he asks.
"Sure about what?" You asked with a rough voice.
"My uncle," his lips are pursed into a thin line. He looks for a glimmer of hope behind your eyes, but it is too far.
He is too late to bring this love back to life.
"He's the only thing that I'm sure of," you answered.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and your eyebrows merge together. "Sorry for what?" You scoffed.
"I'm sorry that I didn't fight for us." He continues. "- it was always doomed from the beginning. I could never have asked you to make that sacrifice for me. I didn't accept it at first, but that just wasn't the life for you." You finished.
"But if I asked you back then, you would have made that sacrifice for me, so I'm sorry for not being what you needed." He says, slowly walking out of the balcony, completely oblivious of the man leaning on the door and eavesdropping on your conversation.
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nameofficial: I can't help falling in love with you... ❤️ This is the beginning of forever baby 💍
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ynkittens: wait did u get married? - nameofficial: Engaged. I'm sorry for not making it clear in the caption haha 😭
JacintaRobin: "I wanna teach you how forever feels like" aint for JACK IN A BOX bcs it's for mr aemond - Bananashake44: Aemond the literal alpha male??? THE SIGMA GIGA CHAD ??? THE ULTIMATE RIZZLER
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PART TWO
@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @hotchnerswife @mxxny-lupin @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore@sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd @kemillyfreitas
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See you again
Male!Yandere!Vampire x Fem!Reader
Bunni’s Monstertober Event
Oct 8th
Oct 7th
Oct 9th
summary: when a rich vampire suspects you are a reincarnation of his lover, you have no choice but to return with him to his manor and become his wife.
warnings: yandere behavior, breeding, dubcon, aphrodisiac venom
a/n: sorry this is so late I’ve had horrible writers block lately ><
Moonlight flickered through the stained glass window, casting a multicolored light across your plump frame.
You almost glowed, looking like an angel sent from above.
He had spotted you across the ballroom an hour ago.
The vampire usually never came to such things, but it was a particularly lonely night for him. About 20 years ago, his human lover died in his arms. A plague had swept across the town she lived, and he hadn’t been there quick enough to turn her before the illness took her life.
He had spent all that time in agony, drifting between thoughts of suicide and loathing, to moments of bliss when he’d remember how much he loved her… and she loved him.
Tonight was the anniversary of her death, and he figured he’d drown his sorrows in the blood of the rich and expensive alcohol.
Instead, he found you.
You were sitting at a table, your elegant gown ill fired on your plump frame. Your breasts were absolutely squished by the tight fabric, and his eyes were drab to your fat belly.
If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought you were her, his love, his everything. You had the same plump frame, eye color, hair the same texture and style…
God you were gorgeous… his pants tightened as he caught a whiff of your perfume.
The same scent she used to use.
He took in a deep breath before approaching you. Maybe a night of fun could… make him feel just a little bit better.
“Hello, beautiful…”
You didn’t look up, assuming he was talking to someone else. This made him pause for a moment before he walked closer and cleared his throat. “My lady, may I have a word with you?”
When your eyes met his, he nearly teared up. He felt an instant spark, his undead heart soaring. You had to be her, no one else had ever made him feel this way before!
“What is it you’d like to speak about?”
He sat down across from you, smiling. “How about you tell me your name?”
The two of you spent the next hour making idle small talk, with him leading most of it. You were shy and soft spoken, much like you had been in your previous life.
You had borrowed a dress from your cousin to attend this party in hopes of finding a decently wealthy husband, an order given to you by your father. That explained why your gown was ill fitting. The man frowned deeply, his fangs threatening to peek out from his lip.
He would be making sure you wore only the finest of fabrics from now on, each dress and outfit custom made to suit your figure. Gods, he wanted to undress you right now more than anything…
But things like this were a process. He didn’t want to hurt or scare you so badly that you tried to flee, and he would rather you home with him willingly. Scaring you would have to wait until you were reliant on him…
So instead he listened to your woes and leaned forward. As long as he could get close enough to your neck to deliver a bite, he could bring you home with him…
“So your father’s business isn’t doing well, I assume?”
You nodded shyly, playing with a bit of lace on your dress. “That’s why he wants me to marry quickly while he still has his status… he hopes that my future husband will support him financially enough to keep the business afloat.”
“How troublesome, being stuck in the middle of this…”
He reached out to caress your cheek, shivering when he made contact with your soft skin. “Mmm… wouldn’t it be nice to get away from it all?”
You were about to say something, but he spoke over you. “Come with me, my love… perhaps I can do something to help.”
Your eyes lit up. He was dressed well, and people seemed to respect him enough to make way for him while you walked through the crowded ballroom to somewhere private! Maybe he could help your father…
But as he closed the door, something shifted. His eyes that had previously been a rich brown in color suddenly changed to be a startling ruby red.
“Oh, how I have yearned for you…”
He was on you in seconds, pinning you to the wall. You couldn’t even scream before his teeth were sinking into your neck, something thick and warm coursing through your veins.
“My venom will help this be a pleasant experience for you, my princess… gods…”
He shivered in pleasure, his bulge pressing into your thigh as he lapped up your blood. “Fuck, I missed you, I missed you so damn much…”
Tears fell down his face, his lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss. His fangs nipped at your tongue, but he didn’t seem to care. The man needed you more than anything.
He held onto you so tightly that your skin began to bruise. It had been decades since he had seen his lover, and going so long without you had been agony. Every night he lay awake, unable to sleep or even exist in peace without you by his side.
And now that he had you back… he wasn’t going to let you go.
It took only a moment for the aphrodisiac in his venom to kick in. Your body grew hot and weak, your pussy drenched within seconds. When he pulled down the zipper of your stress, you wiggled out of it and willingly clung to him.
“S-so warm… p-please… make it better…”
Your soaked panties against his bulge made him hiss. In his twisted, lovesick mind this proved to him that you were her. You wanted him, you loved him!
“Of course…” he purred, stroking your clit through the wet fabric. “Anything for you, I’d gather the stars and lay them at your feet if it meant you’d be happy, my love…”
Seeing your fat pussy for the first time in years was enough to have him rock hard.
Back before you died, you had always wished for children, but he was too stubborn, not wanting it. When he was ready, it was too late and you were gone.
He had regretted it ever since. How he yearned to see your belly swell with his baby, to fill you up with cum and make you a happy mother…
“My pretty girl…”
He rubbed his tip against your entrance. It was flushed an angry red, desperate to feel your gummy insides. “I love you… I love you so much…”
He pushed in, capturing your lips in a kiss as he fucked into your warm cunt. All he wanted now was to cherish and protect you, to lock you away and make sure no one but him got to even look at his beautiful girl.
They didn’t deserve you, didn’t have the honor of laying their eyes on you. Only he did.
He lost count of how many times he came inside of you. The aphrodisiac in his venom had you crying out and blubbering for more, desperate for his touch. It ands his chest will with bride to watch your belly bulge with his cum.
As he road home in his carriage with your exhausted body in his lap, he couldn’t help but rub your fat belly, a fond look in his eyes.
He was getting a redo, and this time he’d give you everything you wanted, treasure you even more than he had before.
And there was nothing you could do to convince him otherwise. You were his, bound to him by fate. Even if you had no memory of this man… it was no use.
You would be with him until the day you died… if he let you.
want more? I thought about expanding on this and making it more of a thought out story… I’ll do it if you send me a kofi! ><
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Flames in snow.
Cregan Stark x Velaryon!reader
Summary: the reader and Jace go to Winterfell to gain the support of the North. Cregan is not the same little boy they met all those years ago. But his son is quite similar to his father: his hair, his eyes, his love for the reader.
A/n: based on an ask! also... part 2 in the future?
Masterlist
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"Prince, Princess," Cregan acknowledged as the Valeryon siblings entered the Hall.
Jace grinned, his sister trailing behind him.
Cregan had not seen the family in what felt like eons, when they were small children. Now, they were adults.
Though life had been cruel to them, it did not show.
"Lord Stark," Jace said in a cheery notion. "I thank you for your hospitality. We are most grateful that you have housed our dragons."
Cregan nodded, stepping to them. "The honor is mine. It is not often that the future of the realm steps through Winterfell's threshold."
Cregan didn't miss the way the young woman's brow quirked up at his choice of words.
"We come in the name of Queen Rhaenyra," Jace clarified, not bothering with small talk again. "The rightful heir to the Iron Throne."
Cregan looked confused, and Y/n finally spoke up.
"Prince Aegon Targaryen II has usurped our mother's throne."
"And you are asking me if I will help fight your war, Princess?" Cregan quirked.
She nodded.
"Let us not discuss such heavy matters while the dragon riders remain weary. Rest, and we will discuss further on the morrow."
…
The Princess walked the long halls of Winterfell, exploring it herself as the sun began to set.
She paused her steps when she heard a small cry.
Though she was no mother, instinct kicked in, and she began to locate where it was coming from.
And she found it.
On the floor of the corridor was a young boy, not older than four. He sat and cried, the smallest bit of blood running from his knee.
She moved to him, lowering herself to the ground, "Let me see."
The boy looked up with puffy eyes, letting the woman help.
A servant rounded the corner, her eyes widening at the sight, "Princess, please… allow me-"
"-That is quite alright. I have it handled." She declined politely. She turned back to the boy, "And what is your name?"
The boy sniffled, "R…Rickon."
Rickon.
She'd heard that name before.
In her studies from childhood.
Rickon Stark, the past Lord of Winterfell.
This was Cregan's son.
She let out a breath, "Oh… that's… that's a lovely name. My name is Y/n."
She helped the boy stand and the two walked slowly to the boy's chambers.
"Am I going to lose my leg?" He asked with a sniffle.
"Heavens, no. It takes much worse to best a Stark. Do you believe a mere scrape would take down your father?"
He shook his head, "Papa is strong." He gained a sudden enthusiasm, "One time, he fought a wolf! And… and he took his sword," he mimicked the motion, "and he drove it through its heart!" He looked back up to her. "Have you ever done that?"
She shook her head, "I can't say I have. I don't have a sword."
"Oh, yeah." He said glumly. "You're a girl."
She tilted her head, "Well… I may not have a sword, but I have my own weapon." She paused dramatically, "I have a dragon!"
The boy's eyes lit up, "A dragon?! Papa does not have a dragon."
"Only children with dragon blood get a dragon. You, young Stark, have wolf blood in you. That's something of importance as well."
Finally at his chambers, he slumped in one of the chairs, "But it's not like a dragon."
"No," she countered. "But if everyone had the same blood, what would make each of us special?" She grinned as she kneeled in front of his chair. "You know, dragon blood gets quite cold up here. Do you get cold, Little Lord Stark?"
He frowned and shook his head.
"Exactly. Wolf blood does not get as chilled."
"Is your dragon here?"
She nodded.
"Can I meet him?"
"Her, sweet boy. Silverwing is a girl."
"Can I meet her?"
She tilted her head, "Maybe before I leave. Until then, let me clean you up and put you to bed."
So caught up in the conversation, he had forgotten his little scrape entirely.
…
"Might I be curious enough to ask why the Princess is roaming the castle at so late of an hour?" Came a voice.
She jumped, turning to see Lord Stark standing with a small grin on his face. "Pardon me. It's not my place to wander."
"It's quite alright. My home is yours for as long as you'll have it."
She nodded, unsure of what to say to the man.
"You've grown," he finally said.
A soft giggle escaped her throat. "We are not children anymore, my lord. I'm afraid we'll never be."
"Aye. But I dare say that is not a bad thing." He tried to hide the way his eyes flit over her frame. His body naturally stepped towards her.
"I… I was quite saddened to hear of the loss of your wife."
Cregan nodded, taking another step. "I know. You wrote me. Remember?"
A warm smile came across her face. "I'm starting to. I do not remember what I said-"
"- 'May there be warmth in the cold, and flames in snow. May you be bundled in comfort anywhere you go. If not, I will ride with my dragon high, to bring it myself when the time is nigh.' "
Her smile faltered a bit, "You remember that so clearly?"
Cregan's felt his heart jolt. "I've always remembered you clearly."
An involuntary breath left her throat.
The two stared at one another, an obvious tension coming over them.
"I… I shall return to my chambers," she finally whispered.
Cregan snapped from his trance and nodded, backing away from her, "Aye. Sleep well, Princess."
"Good night."
…
Things seemed to repeat themselves, because she found Rickon again in that same hall as before.
"Lord Rickon?"
Rickon's head turned and his face lit up.
Y/n sat next to him, looking at what he had to play with.
It was wooden horses, through beaten from its time in the little boy's hands, they were carefully carved.
Someone made them with care.
"Might I play with you?" She asked nicely.
A horse was thrusted into her hand.
"Papa does not play with me. He does not want to," Rickon finally said.
"That's not true, boy," she tried to reason. "Your father is just… needed by many people."
"I need him."
She felt a pain in her chest at the boy's honesty.
She understood the feeling very well.
"One day, little lord, you will be just as needed as him, and you will understand. Until then, I'm afraid there's little to help ease the pain."
"You help."
A noise almost escaped her throat. "Yes, but… I am not here forever."
The young boy sighed.
"I wish you could be."
…
The three stood around a table, trying to come to an agreement on an alliance.
"I have troubles of the other side of the Wall to consider, my prince. I cannot afford to turn my back to it with winter approaching."
Jace sighed, "What good would guarding the Wall do if there is nothing to protect?"
"Jace," Y/n butted in, "Be reasonable."
Jace turned to her, "Sister, the queen needs an army."
"So does the Warden. He knows his people's needs better than us."
"Thank you, Princess," Cregan offers. His gaze stays on her for a second too long. "I have 2,000 graybeards at your disposal. They've seen far too many winters."
"And you'll not march with them?" Jace asked in frustration.
"I will stay until the time is right," Cregan countered.
"Stay with Rickon, you mean?" Y/n asked softly. "You're staying behind for him, yes?"
Cregan's eyes mixed with confusion and surprise. "You…"
She flushed. "Perhaps that was too forward of me, my lord. Forgive me."
"No, you…" his eyes softened, as well as his voice. "You are the one he has been discussing so gleefully?"
The confusion shifts to her, "I'm sorry?"
"Rickon, he," Cregan lets out a soft scoff. "He has been completely enamored with someone. I didn't know who it was, I assumed a servant."
Jace turns to her, "What is he speaking of?"
"I have indeed interacted with the boy, but it has not been that life changing for him surely-"
"-My Princess, Rickon speaks of no one but you."
Rickon ran through the doors, going straight to Cregan.
Cregan abandoned the table to catch his son, raising him up in the air, "Good morning, my boy."
Rickon giggled and squirmed in his father's hold.
Cregan let him down and ruffled his hair, "Go on, Rickon. Your papa has business he must discuss."
"You will not play with me?" Rickon pouted.
The tough lord of Winterfell let out a soft breath. "Forgive me, son. Not this morning."
Rickon's eyes flit to her, and they brighten, "Will you play with me?"
"Son, that is the princess you speak to. She has little time for such things."
"No, my lord," she interrupted. "I'd… I'd quite like the change of scenery. This talk to war is getting to my head. Perhaps chats of horses will be better."
Rickon's eyes light up, and he quickly grabs her hand and drags her from the room to play.
Jace is left in bewilderment. "I had no idea."
"Neither did I."
…
A few hours later, Cregan came to collect the two.
He found them in the courtyard.
"Rickon!" He called out.
The boy's head shot up and he gathered his things and ran to his father.
Cregan ran a hand through Rickon's hair, noting the way the princess watched the interaction from afar. "Go wash up."
Rickon went to move, then paused.
"Can princesses live in Winterfell, Papa?"
Cregan froze. "Why do you ask, boy?"
"The princess should live here."
Cregan smiled, "You like to play with her that much?"
"She's my favorite." And with that, Rickon went into the castle.
The princess stood, seeing Rickon leave and Cregan approach. "My lord."
"Please, princess. I would prefer you call me by my name."
"Yes, my lord."
He tilted his head.
"Cregan."
He grinned at her correction, "Much better."
Her gaze moved downwards towards the object in her hand.
Cregan followed and his breath hitched.
One of Rickon's horses.
"He ran off before I could return it," she admitted.
Her fingers ran over the mane of it, and Cregan felt a fire ignite within him, but he pushed it down to speak. "There is time to return it."
"You carved it."
Cregan's head tilted, "What?"
She held it up, "You carved this. Surely you did."
He reached up and took it from her, sucking in a breath with their fingers brushed. He studied the beat up toy, as if recalling a memory. "Aye. I did."
"It's beautiful work," she commented. "You've always… been gifted."
He felt his ears turn a shade of pink. "I thank you, Princess."
When silence fell over the two, Cregan continued. "When I leave Rickon, and I journey to the Wall, I whittle these little things. It gives me something to do, and in turn, gives him a reason to want me home."
"He wants you home regardless."
Something in him broke.
"I know."
She placed her hand over his. "You're doing the right thing."
"Then why is it so damn difficult?"
She wasn't sure what to say to that.
But she didn't miss the way his fingers shook under hers, and his eyes taking her in as if something had dawned on him.
…
The two had avoided one another after that, only speaking when necessary.
But it all came to a close on their last day in Winterfell.
"I have a final proposition, Prince Jacaerys."
Jace's head shot up, "Name it."
"I remain Warden, the North keeps its independence as is…"
Jace was on the edge of his seat. "And?"
Cregan smiled. "I have the princess's hand."
Y/n's shoulders stiffened from beside her brother. "W…What?"
"I want your hand, Princess."
Jace was just as confused. "You… You've not stated these intentions before."
"I understand that, but that does not mean they were not there. She would make a beautiful Lady Stark."
"Cregan," she reasoned. "I could not possibly-"
"-These are my conditions." He said it persistently.
"Cregan, this is my sister we speak of, do not-"
"-Jace. Let me speak with Lord Stark."
Jace looked between the two, then excused himself.
When the door was closed, she began to speak. "What are you doing?"
"I am being sincere, my princess. I want you as my wife."
And sincere he was. Hope shone in his eyes as he looked to her. She gave a hinted smile, "And you're sure?"
His eyes shone brightly. "I've never been more sure of something in my life. You bring a light to my boy, and you're a light to me."
"Cregan, this war-"
"-You will fight with your mother, as you wish, and return to me in Winterfell when the time is right."
She studied him for a while, making him sweat despite the constant chill of his home.
"I'm happy to marry you, Cregan. For our houses. For your son," she paused to take a breath. "For you."
A wide smile spread across his face. "You've done me a great service."
"It is not service to me," she smiled. "It is not a duty or sacrifice. It is what I want."
"Rickon shall be overjoyed."
"I'd rather you be the overjoyed one in this moment."
Cregan grinned again and moved to her, wrapping his arms around her. His voice lowered, "Trust me, I am." He paused, "You've come through on your promise, you know."
She tilted her head to look at him, "And what is that?"
" 'Flames in snow,' " he grinned as his lips brushed against hers, "You've brought me comfort in multitudes."
......................................
A/n: I have some good ideas for part 2
Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver
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silver.
aaron hotchner x reader.
summary: hotch really doesn't think getting old is sexy. tags: fluff. a suggestive line here or there but nothing crazy. age gap (reader in their 30s, hotch is 57). jack mentioned. i think this could be read as gn!reader but i could be wrong. just short and cute. word count: 1.0k a/n: last fics rules still apply. be nice to me! when i look up photos of hair dying on pinterest i get rainbow haired e-boys so accept this haircut photo <3 divider creds to @/cafekitsune
Your name echoes across the house when Aaron yells for you from the bathroom. Once you enter the space you're greeted by his hair spiked in every which way, covered in a brownish-black goop. His thick hands are gloved and hold a small black toothbrush-like applicator.
"Sweetheart, can you check if I missed a spot?" Aaron hands you the brush and tray of inky black dye. You make a show of rolling your eyes and pouting back at him in the mirror and you take the items from him.
"I forgot it was that time of month that you decided to cover up all your sexy.." you sigh.
"Really," he scoffs, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, "I thought all the sexy was gone when I shaved.'
You almost teared up remembering the loss of his beard. A case off the grid forced him to grow one out for a few weeks. You understandably jumped his bones upon seeing the new look when he returned. The extra hair provided some out-of-this-world sensations for your softest parts that you would never forget. Only for the wicked man to shave all of it after two days, citing the "professional dress code" of the FBI as the culprit.
You snap a latex glove onto your hand, "Shush and bend over, big guy."
He smiles and kneels to face you, his rough hands gripping the fat of your thighs. You slowly worked around his head, dabbing bits of dye in bare spots. Your fingers rake through the inky black mass on his head, gently massaging his scalp. Aaron hums and thanks you under his breath.
"Do you know why I started dying my hair so consistently?"
"To torture me?"
"No," he huffs," when Jack was about... eight? I had taken him on this trip with a couple of his friends and their fathers, it was fun, but at the end of the whole thing Jack pointed at the grays starting to grow out on my hairline and turned to his friends and said-"
"Baby no...."
"'Guys look! My daddy is sooo old!'"
You clamp your lips shut to hold in your laughter. You didn't want to embarrass him further, especially with the deep red flush rising up the nape of his neck.
"Oh honey Jack was still a baby then... kids are insane you know that"
" I do, and I know. I laughed it off. I know he didn't really mean anything by it, but I didn't know if he felt like the odd one out for having an old dad.." Aaron runs his hands up and down your legs mindlessly. "And now I don't want you to feel out of place either."
You pause at that. In the few years you and Hotch have been together, never has he shown any insecurity about the difference in age between you. And he sure as hell wasn't about to start now if you had anything to do with it. You slicked his hair back with your hands and placed the clear complimentary shower cap in the box on his head, snickering at how silly he looked. Once you slide the slimy gloves off you set the timer on your phone and grasp the face of the man you loved so dearly, forcing him to rest his chin on your stomach and look into your eyes.
"You have less than thirty minutes to explain to me why you think I'd care about you looking old"
"you're young-"
"I'm in my thirties-"
"you're younger," he corrects "than me by quite a bit. All your friends have other young people to share their life and first experiences with. Meanwhile, you're stuck with a sixty-year-old-"
"You're fifty-seven-" Your eyes roll.
"a fifty-seven-year-old with a sassy kid turned angsty teenager for a child." he sighs, "Sweetheart I just don't want you to ever look at me and feel a loss."
You take a moment to scan his face. Despite the stupid shower cap mushrooming around his head, his face showed no amusement when he spoke. The sweet, shy smile he always sported around you was gone, replaced with a grimace and furrowed brow.
"Aaron I have never felt more loved, accepted, and safe than I have with you. I know you know that," you say.
He nods, pressing a quick peck to your belly button before looking at you. His eyes search yours for a moment of hesitation or change in resolve. but you stand your ground.
"The only thing I worry about with you on my arm is fighting off all the homewreckers."
He wheezes a laugh at this. Eventually having to stand up before he smears the dark dye all over you. He always does this. Laughs and acts like he wouldn't have crowds of people stop to fawn over his beauty if he let them.
"Remember that neighbor at the old apartment who would only stop by with cookies when she knew you were home?"
"Or the time Jack's classmate profiled their teacher's crush on you?"
"Don't even get me started on that detective JJ keeps telling me about from years ago in New Mexico. The male detective."
He smiles at you sheepishly, "You've made your point."
"If you want to dye your hair or shave to make yourself happy I think you should," you whisper, "but Aar I love every version of you possible"
You press your lips to his cheek before you continue, "You are the most beautiful, devastatingly sexy old man out. And I will still throw myself at you in public if you decide to finally ditch the box dye."
He smiles at you fully now, eyes shining as he looks down at you. He slides his lips against yours, grinning into the kiss before he pulls away to thank you.
"Maybe after this starts to grow out I'll see how I feel about the silver again." He looks back at his reflection in the mirror. He turns his head every which way to peek at the processing strands under the shower cap.
"Think about the beard too damn it.." you mumble. You begin to wander out of the bathroom when he yells for you again.
"Oh and sweetheart one more thing," you turn to look at him, confused when he stifles a laugh, "will you still think I'm sexy if I start balding like my father?"
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch#aaron hotch x reader#mine
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JJ MAYBANK x READER
Summary: JJ has loved you for years, but only now do you realize it
We had just got back to the island from Charleston. John B and Sarah were back home, safe. We had the night, one night where everything felt normal, or at least our normal. John B was still wanted for a murder he didn't commit. We all decided that would be a tomorrow problem, tonight though, was for us.
We were all hanging in the backyard, JJ, Pope, and I all in the hot tub. It was more just a small pool now as the hot tub part didn't work anymore. Kie and Sarah were sitting by the fire; Kie playing the ukulele and Sarah fiddling with the small bandana around her neck. John B was looking at the tribute we made for him, realizing how real it was for us. I made my way out of the 'hot tub' and over to my brother.
I stood beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. "I thought you were dead, I thought I lost my brother and best friend all in one go. After Dad," I choked up, "I couldn't bear the thought of you being gone too."
"Hey," he turned towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders, "I'm here. You can't get rid of me that easily sis." He pulls me in for a hug, one I knew we both desperately needed. We stay like that for a while before we hear rustling behind us. We turn around and see JJ walking over. “I’ll talk to you later,” I tell my brother, knowing him and JJ needed some time to talk.
I walk and sit next to Sarah, her glancing over at me. Sarah and I had always been friends, even before she met John B. She was always nice to me and knew that being a Kook didn’t make her any better than the rest of us; a concept I wish the other Kook’s would understand.
“I need to tell you something,” she blurted out, facing me now. I turned towards her and she went on, “ John B and I kind of got married.”
“What!?!” I yell out. “Shhh- don’t be so damn loud,” she shushed me. “Sorry, but you can’t expect me to not react that way when he’s my brother and you’re, well you.” I chuckle at her, noticing she’s looking over at John B now. I can see it in her eyes, she loves him; and more than just a high school type of love, a forever love. They’re endgame. “Sarah, I’m so happy for you,” I reach over and grab her hands, “and now I have a sister-in-law! Tell me everything! How exactly do two presumed dead teens get married in a foreign country?”
“Well, it was technically in the middle of the ocean, so legal, not likely, but it is to us,” she told me causing me to let out a slight chuckle. “We’re gonna get a dog,” she said the last part louder. I looked over and saw John B walking towards us, shaking his head at her. “Sarah, not anytime soon. We have to get the gold from Ward first,” he said very matter of fact, “and then full Kook!”
“So, Kie, what’s happening with you and Pope?” Sarah asks pointing over to Pope looking at her. “I don’t know honestly, but I think it might be something.”
“That’s,” I pause trying to find the right word, “vague as fuck, Kie.” We all chuckle knowing that she’ll tell us when she’s up to it and when she knows more about her feelings. She flips me off before getting up and putting on some music.
Sarah and I stood up and went over to Kie, the boys taking our spots we were just at. The three of us started dancing to the rhythm of the music, just enjoying life. I can’t dance, but it doesn’t matter because tonight is just about us all being together. After about three songs, Kie comes over and nudges my shoulder, “look who can’t keep their eyes off of you,” she says looking over to JJ.
I look over at him and see him staring at me. Once he sees me looking at him, he gets the smallest smile on his face and shakes his head at me causing me to blush. “He’s just happy we’re all together again,” I tell Kie, “ don’t read into it. He doesn’t like me like that.” I look down, wanting Kie to be right but knowing he probably just sees me as John B’s little sister.
“Trust me on this one, friends don’t look at each other like that,” she whispers to me before dancing over to Sarah. I glance over at JJ and see him looking at me again. The next song that comes on from Kie’s playlist is a slower song. I see Sarah walk over to John B, hands outstretched, as he stands to grab her arms and pulls her into a hug. Sarah puts her arms around John B’s neck and he places his hands around her waist. She rests her head on his chest and I can see all the trouble and fear just melt away from my brother’s face.
I was about to walk over to grab another beer from the cooler when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turn around and see JJ, “Care to dance with me malady?” He reaches his hand out and bends down slowly. “I thought you’d never ask,” I reply taking his hand and curtsying. We both chuckle and walk hand in hand to where I was just at. I repeat Sarah’s actions and place my arms around his neck and he places his hands on my sides.
“I can’t believe they’re back,” he says looking down at me. JJ had been having a really hard time with John B being missing. He got himself fired after arguing with one of the Kooks about John B being innocent. He didn’t tell anybody else, but he started having small panic attacks. He wasn’t staying at his place anymore, not wanting to be alone so he would often sleep on the couch at the Chateau. “Me either, I’m so fucking overjoyed they’re back. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do if we hadn’t gotten that text from them.”
“I didn’t either,” he says looking down at me, “I’m just happy I had you.” I could feel the heat rise to my face, maybe Kie was right. “Can I tell you something?” I looked up at him and nod my head. “I don’t want what I’m about to say change anything, but with what’s all happened, I can’t just keep quiet. I love you. I need you to know that in case everything goes to shit and I never get the chance to tell you.” I’m taken aback by his sudden outburst of honesty. We are both now just standing there, not realizing that the rest of the group had taken notice to what was happening.
I didn’t reply right away, not being prepared for this. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said before turning away from me and running his fingers through his hair. “JJ-“ I grab his shoulder to make him turn back towards me. I did the only thing that felt right in the moment, I kissed him. He questioned it for the slightest second before kissing me back. I heard the hoots and hollers from the rest of the group, but all I could focus on was him. This was all that mattered to me in this moment. I pulled away, placing my hand in his, “I love you too.” He pulled me into the biggest and warmest bear hug.
“But what about the no pogue on pogue rule,” I say, still hugging him. He lets out a low chuckle before pulling apart and looking to John B. “He’s actually okay with this,” I look over at my brother, completely surprised at this statement. “What do you think we were talking about before sis?” John B says to me, “I couldn’t bear to watch you two miss your opportunity to be together all because of a stupid rule we made up.” I give him a smile before resting my head on JJ’s chest.
“Told you,” Kie said to me before grabbing another beer and tossing it to me. I stuck my tongue out at her and caught the beer, opening it and taking a sip.
We spent the rest of the night drinking and dancing. Kie and Pope left us. It wasn’t long before our whole world came crashing down around us as two people came looking for John B and Sarah; non other than Barry and Rafe Cameron himself. Maybe we won’t get one night, but we got a few moments, the best moments I would say.
Tomorrow: clearing John B’s name and figuring out what JJ and my first date is going to be. The former is obviously more important, but I can dream.
#fanfic#masterlist#request#requests open#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj x reader#outer banks#outerbanks jj#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#obx
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A prompt came into mind.. up to you if you're interested.
So, character and reader got married but character cheated because he said he doesn't love the reader anymore. They're technically done, but haven't finished doing the divorce files (because it's expensive and takes a long long time). But.. character got into an accident.. which made him forget everything that happened recently, and only remember the days he loved the reader. Reader's conflicted, the mistress that character has doesn't know what to do either. Character was confused on why he would marry anyone else when he has the reader fo begin with.
I think this fits your styles.
Btw, I LOVE ALL YOUR STORIES! I RE-READ THEM EVERYDAY-
Someone Better
Childe x Fem!Reader
Summary: Childe was a wild spirit, so when he got bored of your relationship, he sought the excitement of another woman. You were heartbroken, ultimately asking for a divorce. But just as your connection was almost severed, he got into an accident, losing every memory of his infidelity and returning to the man that made you fall in love him.
Tags: Cheating, Amnesia, Pining, Angst/No Comfort
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
You were staring at the tremendous amount of divorce paperwork sitting on the desk of your hotel room.
It was very complicated, five years of marriage with joined insurance, property, bank accounts, and now you have to meticulously separate all your joined assets, all while constantly on the verge of a breakdown.
Not to mention you had no family to stay with in Snezhnaya. There's absolutely no one you could talk to about everything, you've left your homeland thinking your future in the cold nation with the love of your life would be nothing less that fantasy.
As you rest your head on the desk and closed your eyes tightly to ease the headache, your ears perk up as loud knocks hit your door.
With a groan, you got up and opened it to reveal your two of Childe's older siblings.
"He's looking for you." The older sister said, Alevtina, her seriousness evident, looking at you somewhat panicked.
"I know, big si-" I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. "I'm working on the assets, I'll send it as soon as possible."
"No." The chilly tone of the older brother, Alexei, sent shivers down your spine. "You need to come with us."
...
"Big sister Y/N is here?" You hear Teucer's innocent voice as you enter their home. The younger children laid their eyes on you, seemingly eager to come closer, but perhaps they've been told that now would not be the time.
"Honey... Thank you for coming..." Their mother embraced you warmly, still accepting you with motherly affection. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry..."
"Mama, has he calmed down?" Alexei asked from behind you.
Your mother-in-law parts from you slightly, looking at you tenderly. "She will definitely help."
You put your confusion and questions aside, seeing the somewhat tense air within the house.
"Stop staring." You weren't looking at him, but you felt his eyes watching you set down a tray of soup and medicine on his bedside table.
Childe lets out a chuckle. "Sorry, love, I can't help it..." His eyes never faltered, containing a look of admiration that you've been unfamiliar with for so long.
"After the avalanche, I got a pretty bad head injury. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when Mama said you weren't here with me, I freaked out."
You sat down on a chair next to his bed, your eyes observing the bandages wrapped around his head. "What did the doctor say about your injury?"
"I'm gonna get some very bad headaches, and I also got a bit of amnesia, I think." Childe looks as if he's in thought. "Do I seem like I forgot something?"
"Maybe some things..."
"But I love you just the same! So I bet what I forgot wasn't even that important!"
...How cruel.
Having to take care of the man that broke you apart, even worse, a version of him that you loved too much to despise.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
It was painful, staying with him.
Childe would keep you close, call you his different pet names, cuddle up to you, all while you were under the pitiful gaze of his family that knew of his infidelity.
On the other hand, he's been feeling the cold responses his advances have been receiving. But to him, he thinks he can solve it by smothering you in more of his love.
He is pretty observant, he's put it two in two together that he may be missing a memory in which he had done something wrong. He just didn't know how much it had hurt.
Though, not only from you, Childe had also felt that his younger siblings seem distant as well, no longer asking him to play snow games outside, or looking up to him as some sort of hero.
One early morning, when he walks up to the kitchen to see you cooking for the whole family, a smile formed on his face.
He steps closer, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. "Hmmm... Morning, honey..." He basks in the feeling of you.
You remain quiet, letting him do as he pleases. The ginger frowns, however, feeling unsatisfied by your lack of reaction.
"Babyyyy... Loveee meee backkkk..." He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck.
"Ajax, come on..." You stifled a laugh, moving slightly away as his action tickled you. He hears the slight giggle of your words, smiling against your skin.
You compose yourself, pushing him away from you. "Stop." He lets you push him away, and you feel him freeze slightly at the harshness of your tone.
His blue eyes looked at you worried. "...Hey," He starts. "I'm sorry, darling, did you not like that?"
With a sigh, you looked down. "When the others wake up, tell them I already made breakfast. I have somewhere to be."
You walk pass him, but you did not miss the hurt tone of the faint call of your name.
...
You come back to his family's home after doing some more paperwork for the divorce that your husband doesn't even remember, feeling your head pounding as you ready yourself to face him again.
What you don't expect to see this late at night is Childe sitting on the porch with a lantern next to him, his head hung low as if he's thinking deeply.
"Childe?"
He looks up, but he frowns at you. "Ajax, darling..." He reminds you.
Standing up, he pulls you into his warm embrace. "I love you... I missed you..."
His words take you aback, as you reluctantly wrap your arms around him.
"I've been thinking about this morning, about you. You hate me."
"I know I must've done something... you can tell me." He kneels in front of you, staring at your eyes while his sparkle with the light of the lantern. "And even if I don't remember, I'll make it right..."
As you look down at him, you see the fiery passion of love that burned in his eyes as he knelt down to ask you to marry him so long ago.
It scares you...
You might not be able to control yourself...
"It's just hard to take care of you sometimes." You smile ever so slightly, yet his frown only deepens as tears start to escape your eyes.
He stands, his hand finds its way to your cheek. "Love..." His eyes held such conviction that you've not seen for years. "I'm so sorry..."
You close your eyes to hold in the tears, shaking your head and swaying his hand away. "...You're not."
Despite the tears, you tug at his arm. "Come on, let's head inside."
He's filled with questions, but seeing your sad face makes him set all those aside and focus on you for now.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
"Teucer, hey, little man." Childe calls for his little brother.
The little boy looks at him wide eyed. "I don't want to talk to you." He crossed his little arms, turning around to leave with a displeased look.
"What...? Oh come on..." The harbinger pouted, getting down on his little brother's level. "What did I do wrong...? All our siblings are acting so mean to me..." He whined, frowning as he tries to persuade the little ginger.
"But you were also very very mean!" Teucer refused to look at his older brother, the one he used to look up to the most. "We don't like you anymore!"
Childe's playful facade faded as his expression contorted to a confused one. "Hey, what do you mean...?"
"You're so mean to Y/N, you hurt her! She doesn't deserve tha-"
"Teucer!" Just as his brother erupted to a crying mess, screaming at him with all his little heart, their mother walked into the room, grabbing the little boy.
"Don't talk like that to your elders!"
"But it's true, Mama!"
"That doesn't matter, say sorry to-"
"What does he mean, Mama? Why did I do?" Childe looked at his mother expectantly, his voice starting to shake as he saw the fit of rage Teucer had because of him. "W-What did I do to Y/N?"
HIs mother shook her head, trying to ease her expression with a smile. "Nothing..."
"It's not nothing, Mama!" He raises his voice by accident due to his frustration. "I see it, the way she looks at me, it's different. The way you all look at me, like you have a monster inside your house."
Teucer forced his way out of his mother's hold, running to his older siblings room all teary eyed. Childe felt bad, but he desperately needed answers from his mother.
"Mama, please, I need to know why Y/N doesn't... love me anymore..." It hurts him to say, but based on the way you're acting, he could only make the assumption that your feelings have wavered.
"Oh, Ajax... it's not like that..."
The ginger then felt a sharp pain in his head, making him fall down onto the couch. He groaned as he clutched his head.
"Hey... where are you heading off to so late at night?" He hears your soft voice in a static audio playing in his head.
"Out." He then hears himself replying coldly.
"Ohh, when will you-"
He's out the door before you could even finish your question.
"Ajax, honey!' His mother's voice was a hazy blur as he keeps his eyes closed to envision what he's hearing in his head.
He tries to shake the feeling away, but his mind is flooded by fragmented memories.
"You've been going out a lot more recently." Your concerned voice entered his ears.
"I've been busy."
"Busy where?"
He then hears shatters of glass and yells as you sob while trying to talk to him.
He pictures your face, your crying, begging face, asking for some sort of salvation from his cold and merciless actions.
"T-There's someone else?"
"Someone better."
"H-How could y-you do this?"
"When I look at you now... I feel... nothing."
Childe opened his eyes, not realizing that tears had started to flow to his cheeks. "Mama..."
"Y-Yes, dear?"
"I hurt her..." He was in a state of disbelief. "I-I... Why...?"
His tears fell faster, looking at his mother for answers. "W-Why, Mama? Why was I so stupid? Why did I choose to lose her?"
"I don't know, dear, but that's simply what happened, and you could never make her forget that, even if you forgot."
His breathing started to accelerate, feeling like he wanted to punch himself. As his head started spinning, his vision turns black.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
You took a deep breath as you walked into the house, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you entered.
"Honey..." Your ex mother-in-law embraces you once again, holding you tight. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to make it difficult for you..."
"N-No, no..." You returned her hug, sniffling as you start to tear up. "I readied myself for this, I'm just here to drop off the final papers..."
"Could you talk to him?" Alevtina suddenly asked, looking at you hesitantly. "I know he's been a jerk... but he won't eat unless he talks to you."
You parted from their mother, feeling the pressure of their request.
"It's okay to curse him, or to scream, or rough him up, I'll even help you." Alexei placed his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.
You nodded, sighing as they guided you to his room. And as you entered with a heavy feeling in your chest, he immediately sat up, alerted by your presence. You stare at each other for a bit before you muttered a word.
"Hi." You greeted him shortly.
"Hey..." His voice was soft, and his eyes followed you attentively.
"I'm sorry to intrude, I'll make this quick." You breathe deeply, trying to relax yourself. "I finished the papers, split the assets, got the lawyers."
"I talked to her, y-your woman..." You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. Childe seemed unfazed by it, though his gaze seem to falter at the mention of 'his woman'.
"She... umm... wasn't really interested anymore after the accident..." You breathe heavily, feeling small under his gaze. "But... your family's here to take care of you..."
Clearing your throat, you continued. "I do have one request, if I could... I would like a safe boat ride back home." You stepped closer, intending to hand him the envelope that contained all the paperwork to finalize your divorce.
"Take it all." You stopped in your tracks as he spoke.
"The house, the mora, the boat. It's all yours..." He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Would you also do me a favor?"
You looked at him, encouraging him to speak.
"Carve my heart out and take it with you."
"...Can we be serious for a second?" You sighed.
"I would like to stay with you. I think that would be a good way to do it without constantly wanting to punch myself." You noticed that his eyes started to flood with tears.
"Ajax... I'm sorry this happened to you..."
"No, Y/N, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." He sat up again, tears falling from his eyes as he looks up at you with genuine eyes. "I don't know why I did that. And I... I regret it so much..." He reached for your hand, and you let him hold onto you for strength.
"Every tear I had in me I already cried when you left me for her." You smiled bitterly, though you remained soft, making him even more guilty as you try to stay strong. "But I appreciate the apology..."
You pull your hand away from him slowly, feeling that he was reluctant to let go.
"I-I still love you..."
You gave him a final smile. "You'll love someone better than me... Childe..." You back away, leaving him alone in his room still yearning for the days where his memory only consisted of loving you.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Hiiii again after quite a while! I think I've been noticing that my recent fics have been angst, I guess I just feel like hurting you guys this season of giving (I give pain :D)
Anywayy, anon, I think at some point I went my own direction and didn't fully stick to your request (I'm sorryyy TvT) but I hope you like it anyway!
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact#genshin impact angst#genshin angst#childe angst#childe x reader#genshin impact childe
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Screaming at the void a bit
#I think I'm having my worst breakdown since high school#seven years since I left high school and I don't think I have ever relapsed this bad#I'm not even sure what to do now. I needed to travel to deliver some papers to my university#but I dont know if I can#it's half past five am and I cant sleep at all#if I look away from my phone I start crying because I need some distraction#I need to fucking graduate. I keep missing deadlines and important shit.#and now I'm too scared to show up and hand over some papers.#I genuinely don't know how I'm going to face my professor without crying#worst of all I feel so ashamed for relapsing and breaking down like this#if I don't get everything ready by friday I dont even know what is going to happen. I feel like I might just lose my chance at graduating.#and if I lose my chance at graduating that's seven years literally tossed in the thrash#I think I'm going to have to ask my mom to come with me#I dont know how this is going to work but I think it might be the only way.#god. can you imagine a last year university student comes to hand you documents#and she's crying and holding her mother's hand#shit. I'm being too harsh on myself.#I just have to try so hard only for things to fall apart#for two years my life has felt like it was on pause and now that I am almost at the end of this fucking tunnel#I fell like I'm getting pelted by problem after problem and crisis after crisis
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Best Brother Ever | h.s
Pairing: Husband!Dad!Harry x Wife!Mom!Reader
summary: a sweet Sunday afternoon with the styles family and Alex being the best big brother.
Word count: 2.6k || MASTERLIST 𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧
Posted On: November 7th, 2024
I got really inspired by a cute reel I saw on Facebook and since then this sweet fluff has been sitting in my drafts for months and I’m really happy with how it turned out! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do ♡ let me know your thoughts in comments! Like & reblog are truly appreciated 🥰 REQUEST ARE OPEN.
It was a peaceful Sunday morning in the Styles household, and the cozy, familiar sounds of home filled the air. In the kitchen, YN moved around with practiced ease, stirring a pot, chopping vegetables, and tasting spices with a focused concentration. She’d been at it for a while now, determined to make Harry’s mom, Anne, feel right at home with her favorite dish. In the background, 18 by One Direction played softly, and YN found herself humming along, her voice a gentle echo to the lyrics.
Though the band had gone on indefinite hiatus years ago, and each of the boys had branched off into their own solo careers, YN hadn’t stopped listening. She was a Directioner through and through, and she knew in her heart she’d never let go of those songs—they were part of her story, her history with Harry, and her dreams.
Meanwhile, in the living room, their six-year-old son, Alex, was lying on the mat with Berry, their playful family dog, gently scratching behind Berry’s ears. Berry’s tail thumped in delight, and Alex giggled as the dog rolled over, waiting for belly rubs. The two were inseparable, each one the other’s partner in mischief.
After a few minutes, Alex felt a tickle of thirst, and with his usual burst of energy, Alex stopped scratching and said, “Oh Berry didn’t you get tired of all the scratching? I know, I know you were enjoying it but it’s time for a break, I’m thirsty. You don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone! Granny likes it when you’re a good boy.” He then sprang up and ran to the kitchen, tiny footsteps echoing across the hardwood floor.
“Alex, no running in the kitchen, remember?” YN gently reminded him, glancing over her shoulder with a smile.
Alex skidded to a stop, giving her an innocent look. “Sorry, Mama.” He then carefully walked to the fridge, his small hand reaching for a water bottle. After unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip, he paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
Looking up at his mom, he noticed how she’d been working by the stove for a while. The warmth from the flames made the kitchen a bit stuffy, and in that moment, his little mind put two and two together. Carefully holding out the bottle to her, he asked, “Mama, do you want some water too?”
YN paused, touched by the thoughtful gesture. The little boy was caring just like his father. Her heart swelled with pride and warmth at her son’s understanding, and she leaned down to pull his cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart. That’s very thoughtful of you.”
Alex beamed up at her, delighted by her kiss, and handed her the bottle with a shy smile. YN took a small sip, her heart feeling full in the best way possible. Moments like these, simple and unassuming, were what made her life feel so complete.
YN glanced around the kitchen, realizing she hadn’t seen Harry in a while. She turned to Alex, who was still grinning from her earlier kiss, and asked, “Where’s your daddy?”
Alex paused, looking thoughtful. “He’s giving Amelia a bath!” he replied brightly.
YN chuckled, wiping her hands on a towel. “Don’t you think he’s taking a little too long?”
Without another word, Alex took off down the hall, announcing over his shoulder, “I’m gonna check!”
YN shook her head, smiling to herself as she continued stirring the pot. But barely a minute later, she heard Alex’s laughter ring out, loud and delighted, carrying all the way back to the kitchen. Curious, she wiped her hands and followed the sound down the hallway, wondering what on earth could have him so amused.
When she reached the bathroom, she found Alex standing at the doorframe, giggling uncontrollably. YN peeked over his shoulder, and the sight before her was too good not to laugh herself.
Harry stood by the sink, almost drenched, his shirt soaked and clinging to him, while his hair, wet and messy, hung down in front of his eyes. Amelia, their 15-month-old daughter, squirmed in his arms, wrapped in a fluffy towel that he was struggling to keep around her tiny, wiggling frame. Amelia, completely entertained, let out a series of squeals and giggles, delighted by the whole chaotic scene.
Harry looked up, his eyes meeting YN’s as he tried—and failed—to blow a strand of wet hair out of his face. “She’s, uh… a slippery one,” he said with a helpless smile, shifting Amelia as she kicked her tiny feet, clearly thrilled by all the attention.
YN chuckled, stepping into the bathroom to take over. “I think you’ve gotten just as much of a bath as she has,” she teased, reaching for Amelia.
“Believe me, I know,” Harry replied, surrendering his squirming daughter into YN’s arms. As soon as she was safely in her mother’s embrace, Amelia nuzzled into YN, her little face lighting up with another round of happy giggles.
Alex, still laughing, tugged at Harry’s soaked shirt. “Daddy, you’re all wet!”
Harry ruffled Alex’s hair, a lopsided grin on his face. “Well, that’s what happens when you try to bathe a little mermaid,” he joked, winking at YN.
YN smiled, cradling Amelia close as the baby snuggled into her, finally calm. Glancing up at Harry, she added with a playful grin, “Maybe next time I’ll leave the bath duty to you again. You look like you’re having way too much fun.”
Harry raised his hands in surrender, laughing. “Only if I get a raincoat next time.”
With everyone still giggling, the air filled with warmth and laughter. For YN, it was yet another reminder of how these simple, unplanned moments held the truest joy.
After drying Amelia’s soft curls and dressing her in an adorable denim overall dress, YN gave her a little pat, sending her off with Alex, who eagerly took her tiny hand. “Come on, Amelia! Let’s play in the backyard!” he declared, guiding her to the door as she toddled along, wide-eyed and giggling.
Meanwhile, Harry changed out of his soaked clothes and slipped into a comfortable hoodie and shorts. Feeling refreshed, he wandered back to the kitchen to find YN putting the finishing touches on lunch. She was focused, stirring one last pot, her face glowing with that contented look he loved.
“Smells amazing,” he murmured, slipping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. She relaxed into him, smiling as she gave the pot one final stir.
“Thank you,” she replied, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze. “I wanted everything to be perfect for your mom.”
Harry pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “It already is perfect. Besides, Mom’s really coming to see you and the kids. I’m just… here for decoration,” he joked, earning a laugh from YN.
She turned to face him, resting her hands on his chest. “Pretty good decoration, I’d say,” she teased back, her eyes sparkling. “Can’t say I mind having you around.”
He grinned, taking her hand in his. “And I can’t say I mind this whole thing… you, me, the kids, Sunday lunches. I think we’re doing alright, don’t you?”
YN’s smile softened, her heart warmed by his words. “I’d say we’re doing better than alright.”
When lunch was ready, they carried everything to the living room and settled comfortably on the sofa, filling their plates and savoring each other’s company in the cozy quiet. Berry, their loyal dog, lay stretched out on the floor nearby, watching them with sleepy eyes, as though content to be part of their little family moment. But the peace didn’t last long; as soon as Berry heard the sound of laughter from the backyard, he was on his feet and bounding toward the door, ready to join Alex and Amelia in whatever adventure they were up to.
Harry and YN shared a glance, amused, and Harry sighed with a laugh. “Should we go see what they’re getting into out there?”
YN nodded, grinning. “Definitely.”
Hand in hand, they headed toward the backyard porch deck, hearts full and laughter on their lips, ready to join in on the joy of the afternoon.
Harry and YN strolled out into the backyard, enjoying the sight of Alex and Berry playing an enthusiastic game of chase. Alex was giggling as he kicked the ball across the grass, Berry hot on his heels, barking and wagging his tail, clearly in his element.
But their attention quickly turned to little Amelia, who was standing by the swing set, her tiny fingers gripping the seat as she attempted to climb up. She’d tugged it down a few times, her determination evident in her scrunched-up face, but every time she tried to lift her legs, they just didn’t reach. She let out a tiny, frustrated squeal, her cheeks pink with effort.
Alex spotted her from across the yard and immediately abandoned his ball game, trotting over with Berry following close behind. “I’m coming, Amy! I’ll help you,” he declared, a serious expression crossing his little face. The way he spoke, it was as if he were preparing to climb a mountain, not help his baby sister onto a swing.
He placed a comforting hand on Amelia’s shoulder, patting her gently. “Don’t worry, Amy. I’ll get you up there,” he reassured her. Berry sat down nearby, tilting his head as if watching the scene unfold with keen interest.
Alex held the swing steady, lowering it slightly to make it easier for her to grab. Amelia gave it her best shot, tugging herself forward and then clinging to her brother’s back, her small legs kicking as she tried to hoist herself up. But she kept slipping back down with a tiny thud, her face scrunched in concentration.
Seeing her struggle, Alex crouched down thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one finger like he’d seen his dad do when he was deep in thought. “Okay, hm… maybe try to use my back like a lil’ stool?” he offered, glancing up at her with a hopeful smile. “I’ll be like a step!”
Amelia’s eyes lit up, and she gave him an excited nod, as if this was the most brilliant plan she’d ever heard. Alex crouched down in front of the swing, bracing himself. “Alright, Amy, climb on!” he called out, his voice full of determination.
With a delighted giggle, Amelia leaned onto her brother’s back and clutched his T-shirt with her chubby little hands. She climbed as best as she could, trying to pull herself up—but her grip on his shirt only tightened as she clambered, her arms slipping around his neck. Alex winced, his voice coming out in a slightly strained laugh. “Amy… you’re kinda… choking me,” he gasped, though he kept steady, determined to help her however he could.
Harry and YN watched from nearby, biting back their laughter as Alex tried to be the perfect big brother, his determination and care making them both melt a little inside. Berry, still sitting close by, tilted his head again, ears perked as he followed every bit of the action.
Eventually, Alex, catching his breath, stood up, looking down at his sister with a thoughtful frown. “Alright, Amy, let’s try it another way,” he said, more determined than ever to help her reach her goal.
He pointed at the swing seat with a very serious expression, bending down to her level. “Just try to sit on it. Right here,” he said, gesturing to the exact spot where she should aim. “Watch, I’ll show you.”
With exaggerated care, he climbed onto the swing himself, wiggling around on the seat to demonstrate how to sit properly. Then he hopped off and held the swing firmly in place again, giving her an encouraging nod. “Okay, now you try.”
Amelia looked at him, wide-eyed with admiration for her big brother, and then turned back to the swing. She grasped it carefully with both hands, her face full of concentration, and this time, after a few wobbly attempts, she managed to pull herself up, finally plopping down on the seat with a triumphant squeal.
Alex’s face broke into a huge grin. “You did it, Amy!” he cheered, clapping his hands. “You’re a big girl now!”
Amelia giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and Alex gave the swing a gentle push, sending her gliding back and forth, her delighted squeals filling the backyard. Each time she swung forward, she let out a little giggle, her laughter filling the air.
Harry and YN stood side by side, their arms wrapped around each other as they watched Alex carefully push Amelia on the swing. Her joyful squeals mixed with the gentle creak of the swing, and Alex’s steady encouragement filled the air. Berry trotted nearby, tail wagging, occasionally glancing up as if to make sure everything was under control.
Harry tightened his arm around YN’s shoulders, pulling her close as he shook his head in admiration. “He’s… he’s really the best big brother, isn’t he?” he said, his voice soft with awe. “Look at him—so gentle with her, so patient. I can’t believe he’s only six.”
YN beamed, her eyes fixed on their son as she watched him push Amelia with such care, his face serious with concentration, as if he were on an important mission. “I know,” she replied, her voice warm with pride. “He’s amazing with her, isn’t he? Always looking out for her, always so sweet. I feel like we’re really… doing something right.”
Harry looked down at her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, I think you’re doing most of it right,” he teased, bumping her shoulder with his. “I’m just here to make sure they know how to make a mess and have fun.”
YN laughed, nudging him back. “Oh, please, Harry—you’re their hero. Every time you walk in, they light up. You’re like their personal superhero.”
Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know about ‘superhero,’ but… seeing them like this, watching them take care of each other? That’s everything.” He paused, his gaze softening as he looked back at Alex and Amelia. “They’re so lucky to have each other. And I think… we’re pretty lucky to have them, too.”
YN nodded, her heart swelling as she took in the scene—their two little ones, working together, supporting each other in their own innocent, unfiltered way. “It’s moments like these that make it all worth it, don’t they?” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. “All the late nights, all the messy meals and chaotic mornings… all of it. Seeing them happy, and kind, and just… them.”
Harry gave her a soft smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ve got a good thing going, don’t we?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t imagine a better team than this. You and me… and these two.” He gestured toward Alex and Amelia, his eyes crinkling with pride. “We’re doing something right, YNN. I know we are.”
Just then, Alex looked over his shoulder and spotted his parents watching. His face lit up with pride, and he called out, “Look, Mum! Dad! Amy’s swinging! I got her up here all by myself!”
YN and Harry exchanged a warm glance before waving back, beaming with pride. “You’re the best big brother, Alex!” YN called out, giving him a big thumbs-up. “Amy’s so lucky to have you.”
Alex’s cheeks flushed with pride, and he turned back to Amelia, giving her swing another gentle push. “Did you hear that, Amy? Mum and Dad said I’m the best big brother ever!” he whispered to her, smiling from ear to ear.
Watching him, Harry gave YN’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re raising some pretty great kids, aren’t we?” he murmured, his eyes sparkling with pride. “If nothing else, I’d say we’re getting that part just right.”
YN looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Couldn’t agree more.”
#harry styles#harry edward styles#one direction#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles story#harry styles writing#hs#harry#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfic#styles#harry styles fiction#fluff#harryssyndrome#dadrry#dad!harry#dad!harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles fan fiction#husbandrry#husband!harry#harry styles drabble
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i can see you
james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)
summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.
a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift
warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation
for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.
you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.
“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.
“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.
“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.
as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.
“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.
“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”
“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.
“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.
“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”
it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?
“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.
“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.
“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.
james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.
-
your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.
the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.
you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.
you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.
and then there was james.
james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.
when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.
sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?
as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.
-
you felt like you could kill him.
after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.
but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.
you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.
"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.
"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.
“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“
“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.
“i told you, they were really good.”
if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turned red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.
you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.
he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.
he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.
he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pajamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.
he shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.
the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.
maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.
“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.
“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.
“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.
“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.
“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”
“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.
“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”
“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”
“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”
“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.
you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.
-
as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.
you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.
on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.
when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.
you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-
giggles.
there were giggles coming from your room.
and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.
you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.
“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”
“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.
you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.
“thank you, have a nice night”
you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.
you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.
“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“
“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.
“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.
“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”
“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?
“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?
“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?
“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“
“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.
you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.
“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.
it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.
“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.
“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.
you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.
his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.
you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?
once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.
maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.
he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.
you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.
you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.
“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.
“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something on your phone.
you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.
you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.
“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“
“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.
“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.
fuck.
you were going to share the damn blanket.
he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.
was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.
you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.
you could have died right there.
he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.
‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.
you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.
you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.
the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.
you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how he could be so sweet, funny and nice.
after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.
he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.
you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.
you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.
everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want to read it at the moment.
“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.
“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.
“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.
“yeah” remus answered, smiling.
“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sitting next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.
“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.
“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”
they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.
once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.
they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.
“can i stay with you for the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.
“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the arm of ouch.
“yeah?” the guy answered.
“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.
“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?
“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.
“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.
“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.
“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.
“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.
“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.
“really? what does he say?”
“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.
“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”
“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.
“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.
“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.
for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.
he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.
did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?
goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.
it made you feel crazy, it really did.
you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.
the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.
you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-
you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.
‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’
you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.
you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.
“y/n?” he was looking at you now.
fuck.
“yeah?”
“you look really good tonight.”
“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.
“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?
“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.
“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.
he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.
the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.
you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.
kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.
he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.
“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.
he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.
he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.
when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.
“james…” you let out as he bit you again.
“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.
“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.
“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.
“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.
he was big.
you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).
he was on his knees, towering over you.
“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.
“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, especially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.
he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.
he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.
“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.
“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.
“take it off”
“what?” you’re confused.
“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.
“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?
“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.
you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.
“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.
“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.
“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.
“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.
“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.
“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.
“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.
“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.
“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”
“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.
“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.
“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.
“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.
“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.
“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.
he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.
“jaaames” you would whine
“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.
if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.
“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.
“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.
you were in ecstasy.
“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.
“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.
“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.
“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.
“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.
your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.
as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.
“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.
his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.
he made sure he got rid of every single drop.
your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.
“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.
“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.
“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.
“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.
“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.
#lila writes#james potter x reader#james potter fic#james potter smut#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter oneshot#james potter fanfiction#james potter imagine#marauders x reader#silencesscreams
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untitled - j.jk.
genre: angst, fluff (firstlove! slowburn!) (11.5k)
summary: jungkook was your first love but first loves were supposed to end, they were supposed to be a fond memory to look back on but your first love never leaves your life, nor does he stay in it.
note: this is inspired from my first love <3
masterpost
even if years, ages, and places separate you, maybe you’ll love jungkook all over again every time.
you had met him in school, in college, on a different continent but he never stayed in your life for too long, and you hadn’t stayed in his either.
but now that you believe you wouldn’t see him again, only because you were standing next to your soon-to-be-husband, you believe your never-pausing story needed to be told.
and oh, would you look at that? it seems like jungkook has entered the venue to hear it too.
-
it was the 9th grade when you first met him.
it was simple and so innocent.
you had your new school bag resting behind you, and your shoulders kept knocking against your sisters as the bus drove on the road and abruptly stopped at a place that it never did before; down the lane from your home.
you curiously looked out and heard your bus manager faintly mumbling something about a new student joining the bus.
and there he was, a head full of bouncy hair and a smile that wasn’t exactly present. even as he walked the length of the bus with his head down, he didn’t give off insecurity, it was more like he avoided looking at most people.
he sat down, right behind you, his legs stretching could be seen under your seat and you didn’t look back just yet. you had no idea why.
your sister, sunny, turned around, hand clasping the seat, and eagerly asked, “you’re in B section, aren’t you?” your ears perked up at that, and you subtly leaned in to listen to him.
why you had been curious at all about someone whose face you hadn’t seen, is something that was beyond you but you were consumed inside out with curiosity from the beginning.
he nods at your sister and doesn’t offer another word but when you tilt your head to look back, you see him looking right at you.
that’s when it all began, there were no words at all, just a boy who hadn’t looked at anyone but looked at you as if he could draw you the very next second.
-
your sister, ever the extrovert, talked to jungkook every day, they laughed and made fun of each other, you smiled at their conversations but never contributed yourself. you listened though, and you listened well.
by week two, you knew how he sounded when he was bored.
you knew how his voice hitched when he was excited.
you knew how his voice would get low whenever he pulled a sarcastic joke on your sister.
jungkook’s eyes would dance to the back of your head, wrapped neatly in a ponytail every single morning, to see if you would turn back, to see if he could catch a glance of those small smiles you let out sometimes but most days, he would just talk loud enough for you to hear about him.
he never understood why he had wanted you to listen, but he couldn’t tell you anything directly, and he wanted to look cool, sound cool, make jokes in a cool way, in a way that would make you laugh and once he got home, he always felt ridiculous for feeling that way.
and then, as if a miracle, your sister didn’t come to school one morning, jungkook could see you alone, ponytail brushed back as always, school bag resting on your thighs, and felt a stabbing need to hear your voice, talking to him.
he settled behind you, legs stretching again and his fingers danced on his thighs as he thought of a way to talk to you, just then your head tilted slightly, as if you were trying to catch a look at him and jungkook felt his smile burn into his skin.
“why did sunny not come today?” you jumped as he fully leaned on the back of your seat, your eyes drifted to his face, “she’s not well.”
those were the first words you had ever spoken to him.
“why is she not well?” was not his best, but he needed to keep it going.
sunny was on her period.
“stomach ache,” you murmured, ignoring how his eyes twinkled with each word that escaped out of you. you hadn’t believed that eyes could twinkle up until that day, but then again you think you’ve never seen jungkook’s eyes twinkle with anyone else.
“she must’ve eaten something bad, didn’t she? she seems the type to be careless like that,” jungkook snickered and your face grew red hot, “what she eats or doesn’t eat, isn’t any of your business.”
your tone, your eyes narrowing sharply to glare at him, was a sight jungkook would get used to later, but for now, he didn’t know how to react.
he was taken aback that you had gotten so serious over a simple joke, then it clicked to jungkook that you were one of those oddly protective people. nothing else could explain your red cheeks and furrowed eyebrows.
and he grew giddy.
you were oddly protective.
a new thing he got to learn about you because he had conjured up the courage to start a conversation.
“my bad,” he shrugs into his seat, and his nonchalant response makes you feel guilty, so you sigh and turn back fully to face him.
that was the first time you saw him straight on, with no sideway glances, no peripheral view of him, just his face and nothing else.
“you have adam sir for physics too, right?”
it was something you picked up from the multiple conversations you overheard.
“um yeah?” he wasn’t sure where you were going with this, “does he come into your class with chalk on suspicious places too?”
you were talking about your dear adam sir who constantly came to class with chalk all over the front and back of his pants crotch area, everyone but adam sir himself knew about his crotch chalk.
and jungkook laughs out loud, “oh my god, yes, i don’t know whether to be horrified or mildly impressed with his lack of self-awareness,” and you laughed too.
when you stopped and looked at him once more, he was already looking at you and the smile on your face didn’t break until you reached home.
-
it was normal now, you and sunny would turn around, talk to jungkook until you reached school, and then wait for the evening, when you could talk to him until you reached home.
you were quick to anger, he noticed.
you often fought with guys in your grade with a rage that both scared and fascinated jungkook.
you were calm with people you liked, you were fun with people you liked, you were passionate about things you believed in.
you always were a bit frustrated with him, but you still laughed at his jokes.
he was sarcastic, you noticed.
he had no interest in most things.
he didn’t like drama but always knew everything about everyone.
he always looked at you after he made a joke, as if to check if you thought it was funny, if you thought he was funny.
and you would always laugh, he would always feel a seed of pride in him whenever you turned away, hiding your laughing face in your palms.
you knew he liked you; you weren’t oblivious or stupid.
you’re not sure who he told or how it even came out, but suddenly, everyone around you knew about it.
the rumors started a month after you talked to him, you had known him for six weeks which felt like six years, but you didn’t like him back.
he knew that you didn’t like him back.
but that didn’t stop him from trying to look cool to you.
something his friends never let him succeed at.
on children’s day, you were allowed to wear anything besides your uniform, and that was a very exciting thing then, you always wore your best outfits because your mom believed in looking good and feeling good.
you were standing in the middle of the ground, waiting for your friends to come back from getting food when someone tapped swiftly on your shoulder, it was one of jungkook’s friends, smiling at you as if he knew you. you didn’t know the guy; you only knew he was jungkook’s friend.
“hey, could you take a photo for us?” he mused, you almost said no, but then you peeked around him, to see jungkook with his very huge group of friends, he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at everything but you.
it confused you.
his friend’s smile got wider when he noticed you staring at jungkook, you ignored him and took the phone dangling from his hands, you watched as they all got closer and started smiling.
jungkook’s smile was so small, so invisible, so you yelled, “smile everyone!” and you tried not to smile too when his smile took over his entire face until you couldn’t see anything else.
“thanks,” his friend came and took his phone, jungkook left, eyes glancing over his shoulder where you stood, an unavoidable warmth spread through your fingers.
but you didn’t like him.
not the way he liked you.
right?
-
“he likes you, he told his friends and well, they told my friends, who told me,” sunny rambled beside you, shifting through her closet and you didn’t know what to say, “do you like him?” she turned around to you, eyebrows raised as if she judged you a little if you did, and you shrugged.
“no, how can anyone like him?”
-
you had people who admired you, liked you even, but very few were honest or brave about it.
so, when the sister of a guy who you thought was only your friend, knocked on the window of your seat, you were confused. she smiled, “this is for you,” she pushed a letter, bracelet, and chocolate into your hands once you opened it, running away before you could ask anything.
you saw your friend peeking from the corner of a bus, watching your reaction to his confession, you looked away and shoved the letter and bracelet into the front pocket of your bag.
jungkook watched the whole exchange silently, a strange jealousy settled in his stomach as he looked out the window to glare at your friend, who sadly only had his eyes on you. then, he watched you and tried to understand what you felt from the back.
it wasn’t easy.
his friend gasped and howled next to him, “she got a letter, bro” he teased jungkook loud enough for you to hear, jungkook waited for you to turn around and tell his friend to shut up and mind his own business.
but you didn’t, you didn’t get angry like you usually did.
you were hyper-focused on the bracelet resting in your bag, and jungkook scoffed at it, he could do better, he won’t, but he could.
“she got a letter and you’re still just sitting here,” his friend tutted at him and jungkook shrugged his friend’s arm around his shoulder, scowling at him.
you rested your head on your window and closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun penetrate you.
when it was just the two of you on the bus, he leaned forward, “he wrote you a letter?”
“yeah, he did.” it was embarrassing to tell jungkook for some reason, it felt like cheating, receiving a letter from someone else when he was right behind you, though none of those feelings held any validity.
“he gave you a bracelet and chocolate? that’s just childish,” he snickered and expected you to laugh with him but you didn’t, “we’re still kids,” you mumbled instead, and jungkook straightened.
“do you like him?”
“no.”
“do you like anyone?”
“no.”
“why?” he stood with his bag in his hands, the bus waiting for him to get down and you didn’t notice his nervous stammer then, you were too confused by the bracelet and chocolate in your bag.
“i just don’t.” he nodded and left.
you kept the letter and bracelet in your school memories box.
-
somewhere jungkook knew that you knew, but he was always grateful that you acted like you didn’t know.
but it was unbearable for him.
seeing your swaying ponytail every morning, hearing your laughter ring in his ears at times when you weren’t even around him, driving by your house a few fifty times a day to see if you were talking in the balcony sometimes because you did that sometimes, sometimes it felt to jungkook that you did it for him.
sometimes you did it for him, for him to see you.
why?
no one knows.
you and jungkook were friends, only friends.
you and him were friends, but you never talked when others besides sunny were around, your conversations were yours and his, and no one else’s.
you weren’t sure that was how friendships worked, but you thought maybe friendship with jungkook worked this way.
he had your number but he never called, you had his number but you never called.
but one day, right before your final exams started, your phone rang and your heart stopped when you saw his name flash on your screen, you stared at the screen until your phone stopped ringing and didn’t touch your phone until it was night.
you opened it to several messages from jungkook and none of them were about school or the annoying kids on the bus or his annoying friends or your annoying friends.
jungkook: i like you.
jungkook: i think you know that. but i wanted to tell you.
jungkook: i know that you don’t like me, but i like you and i’ve tried to avoid it, but i see you every day, and i can’t avoid you, i can’t avoid how i feel.
jungkook: if you somehow like me, reply to this, if you don’t, don’t. just act as if nothing happened when we see each other tomorrow.
you couldn’t study anymore that night.
the next day, you turned back with sunny and talked to him as if nothing happened, you complained about your syllabus, he laughed that he didn’t even open his books, and sunny bragged that she finished everything and helped him with some important topics.
you ignored the pull in your heart at how openly his affection showed in his eyes now when he looked at you, his sentiment was simple, he had said his bit, and he had nothing to hide anymore but you grew heavy on that seat in front of him, you had everything to hide.
sunny squeezed your hand as you looked out the window.
she knew what happened.
your eyes filled with affection too, gave it away.
-
why did you never tell jungkook that maybe, just maybe, just a small part of you, a part of you that you wanted to destroy, liked him too?
you never understood why your sentiment cowered under layers whereas his laid naked in the world.
and middle school for you, high school for him, came close to ending by the time you ever confronted your feelings.
it was the last day for middle schoolers, you had a whole event thing in the school and dressed up accordingly, you had gone to school with your dad.
but once the day ended, you got onto the bus with a shirt full of your classmates' signatures and notes, you were a little late and flushed from the sun, you plopped down on your seat and fanned yourself.
sunny pulled the scribbled shirt from your hands, “god, you really filled it up,” you pointed to each signature and note, explaining who it was from, and when a huge note from some guy in the class who liked you came, sunny teased you and jungkook glared at the back of her head.
but a knot of sadness formed in his throat, he wouldn’t see you every day after this, he wouldn’t see you sleep on the bus, he wouldn’t hear the r-rated jokes that you whispered to sunny, thinking that no one could hear, he wouldn’t hear you silently cry after a bad day.
to jungkook, today felt like the end of a lifetime.
then you turned around, with tired eyes and a shy but carefree smile, you extended the shirt to him and said, “write something good, jungkook.” he felt as if he was going to fall off his seat.
his name in your voice was something he would remember for years to come.
he asked for a pen because of course, jungkook didn’t carry a pen in his bag that had one notebook, you scoffed and gave him one and he thought for very long.
i love you, felt wrong to write on a shirt that was littered with other people’s love for you.
and as he read each note, jungkook suddenly felt small, so many people loved you, much better people than him, he couldn’t even write anything as a goodbye to you whereas others wrote whole paragraphs.
he wrote something quickly, under your watchful and expectant gaze, and handed the shirt back with a weak smile.
‘be happy, always. jk’ looked back at you and you couldn’t help but laugh at his small handwriting next to everyone else’s. you didn’t notice his dejected posture, nor his distracted gaze out the window.
“really? that’s all?” you said with a teasing smile, extremely amused by his words and he shrugged at you, playing with his hands.
but he felt it when your smile dimmed and you turned around with a silent huff, he felt even smaller as he got down from the bus, craning his neck to see you and your yellow dress, for the last time in the bus that held all his adolescent love.
you didn’t look back at him.
-
your exams ended, you joined high school in a different part of the city, jungkook joined college in a different part but his home remained down the lane from yours.
you didn’t see him as much anymore, you only saw his car drive by through your window, but he did message you whenever he could, even if you didn’t see each other, you knew every person he knew, he knew every overbearing teacher you hated, you knew every class he skipped and that he started smoking, and he still knew just how to make you laugh to make you forget about the pressures of high school.
and calling him a friend, in the midst of all that, felt wrong, it felt so wrong, you were so alone in your high school, and he was the only tie to your familiar and comfortable past, so you confessed.
it wasn’t anything grand, you knew he liked you back, and you weren’t worried about getting rejected, but still, you held your breath as you typed a message to him.
you: i like you too.
you: it took me too long, didn’t it?
his reply was instantaneous.
jungkook: what.
then, your phone rang loudly, it almost fell from your hands and your mom eyed you suspiciously, you called out a friend's name to appease her and ran off to your room, shutting the door behind you and lifting the call with shaky hands.
“you’re not joking with me, are you?”
“no.”
“so, you like me?” you heard the smile in his voice and let your head fall against the door in a blissed-out sigh.
“i do.”
“really?”
you laughed, “really.”
“really, really?” you couldn’t stop giggling at the barely contained excitement and doubt in his voice, “really, really, jungkook.”
“fuck.” you faintly heard his laugh of disbelief on the other line and stopped yourself from sinking to the floor and talking to him for hours.
“text me, my mom’s awake still,” you mumbled, and he sighed but it was happy, it was out of relief, “yes, ma’am.”
jungkook ended the call with the biggest smile on his face, his back resting on his car, slid down as he tried not to squeal and jump in the air and his friends raised their eyebrows at him.
“what happened to you?”
“she told me she likes me,” he mumbled, the words feeling so much like a lie on his tongue but it was true, it was finally true, and even if he didn’t say the name, his friends knew exactly who it was, “holy shit, really?” they crowded around him and started demanding for details but he brushed them all off.
“i have to go, i have to text her, i can’t do that when i drive, you guys will get back by yourself right?” he didn’t wait for their reply as he got into his car and started the engine, all he heard before pulling away was, “that lucky bastard.”
and he was, he was the luckiest man in the world.
-
turns out, jungkook was the luckiest man in the world for a few moments only. you were so sweet sometimes that he wanted to wax poetry about you, but he had expected that after your confession, you could date, he could call you his girlfriend, and you would go out to the movies, he would feed you popcorn and your head would rest on his shoulders.
but.
“i just think labels aren’t necessary,” he tried not to frown too deeply as your voice swam into his ears, “what do you mean?” he sat up on his bed, phone clutched tightly in his hands.
“isn’t it enough that we like each other? why do we have to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“but why shouldn’t we?”
“jungkook, i don’t know how i feel about making it so…permanent,” on the other end of his phone, your eyes gathered tears because you didn’t know why you were saying the words you were, but the idea of dating seemed so immature to you, too troublesome and dramatic, you just wanted to like him and have him like you.
“are we not permanent?” he was only so young and so innocent; the words left him with a delicate veil of terror.
why weren’t you thinking of forever? you were his forever, was he not yours?
“how could we be permanent? we’re kids,” your nervous laughter twisted his guts but he didn’t say a word, “do you not think of a future with me?” jungkook felt pathetic asking the questions he did.
“it’s not like that jungkook, i like you, of course, i do but shouldn’t we worry about us here in the present than somewhere in the future?”
it made sense to you because you were already apart, he was in college, you were in high school, he smoked now, you hated that, you grew more cynical, he hated that and later, you would only be further apart, who was to say you would stand the test of time?
but i love you, hung on his lips.
he just mumbled, “okay.” he never was okay with it and his disappointment couldn’t have been louder.
“jungkook, i still like you-“ your mom called out to you and your panic rose to your throat, “my mom’s calling, i’ll text you, okay?” and the line went dead.
jungkook fell back on his bed, his head was now heavy with you, he couldn’t help but notice that you kept saying that you liked him.
you never said that you loved him.
-
you: our school function is on the 26th, this is our chance.
jungkook: are you telling me i finally get to meet my girlfriend?
you: haha not your girlfriend but yes, you finally get to meet the girl of your dreams.
jungkook: emma stone is coming?
you: very funny jungkook, i’ll block you.
jungkook: now don’t go and do that, what will you wear?
you: you will see that day, what will you wear?
jungkook: you will see that day :D
you: so annoying.
jungkook: only to you :]
you: i’m excited to see you.
jungkook: you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to see you.
-
at the school, your palms grew clammy as you walked around with your friends, and your dress flowed with you as you walked but you didn’t feel pretty that day. like every other teenager, you had a huge breakout of acne just the night before and you had cried, you didn’t want jungkook to see you like this.
you were sure that he had higher expectations for the girl he liked and while you usually didn’t care about others’ expectations of you, you cared about his.
you knew he was already in the school but you weren’t actively looking for him, you wanted to delay meeting him as much as you could, you didn’t want him to see your face and you didn’t look at your phone.
you let yourself be completely occupied with your friends even if you see him walk by a couple of times from the corner of your eyes. jungkook, on the other hand, just didn’t know how to approach you, he didn’t know if he’d be disturbing your time with your friends or if he’d annoy you by acting too clingy, so he stayed away as well.
sunny observed the whole exchange in bits and pieces and couldn’t believe how ridiculous you two were being. as his friend and your sister, she decided to take things into her own hands.
so, as you laughed and talked to your circle of friends, she pulled on your arm, took you aside, and whispered, “dude, why aren’t you talking to him? he’s been waiting for you.”
“i thought he was with his friends,” you lied, and she sighed, “he hasn’t hung out with them, to make sure he had time with you and i don’t know what is going on with you, but your boyfriend is waiting for you and you need to go.”
“not my boyfriend,” you mumbled as she dragged you around to where he was sitting.
until you saw him, very well-dressed, with shiny shoes, a crisp shirt, and a lopsided grin, none of what you had with him felt real.
but seeing him made it real, it made your love for him take a physical form, you weren’t sure you could handle that sense of reality just yet.
romance, love, affection, all of it was easy through a screen but seeing his finger ridges in real life and wanting to hold them, was hard.
“hey,” he mused, patting the spot next to him and you didn’t sit, you hid your face behind your hair and muttered a greeting, and sunny gagged next to you, “can you please not do this lovey-dovey shit in front of me?”
jungkook was enjoying it though, his girl, not his girlfriend apparently but still his girl, was too shy to see him.
the ever-fierce, angry, witty, and smart girl disappeared and in front of him, was just a girl in love. and even if you never said it, he felt it in the moment.
“okay, i’ll go now,” sunny said, but you grabbed her arm, “stay,” you whispered to her and she geared up to start cursing at you only for jungkook to say, “stay, it’s fine.”
he realized that if sunny was around, you would at least say a few things, because right now, he couldn’t see anything but your hair.
so, sunny stayed.
and they talked, you chimed in, it felt like the first day of talking to him on the bus. jungkook observed that you were a bit more grown up now, a bit taller, only a bit though and a bit softer than when you were in school, and just like he loved the loud, rude, and angry girl, he loved the soft, shy, still angry girl, that he was looking at.
you thought he was looking at you because you looked different, uglier, and that he was contemplating just letting you go.
but that night, when you returned home and texted him, you felt like the prettiest girl in the world.
you: so emma stone didn’t come, how do you feel?
jungkook: heartbroken but another girl made it up to me.
you: oh yeah, how was that?
jungkook: it was like i was seeing her for the first time again.
you: and?
jungkook: she’s more beautiful than i remember her being.
you: jungkook, i had pimples all over, you don’t have to lie to me.
jungkook: you don’t know yourself at all if you think some pimples take away from how beautiful you are.
you: you think so?
jungkook: i spent an hour looking at you, walking here and there in the school, so i’m confident about it.
you: i felt ugly today.
jungkook: that happens sometimes.
you: i don’t feel it anymore.
jungkook: you never should.
-
it was five days after the function, on new years, january 1st, that you two broke up.
things had been going so well but suddenly, they weren’t.
after the magical night at your school, he hung out with his friends a lot, and he started drinking, you were still too young for all that, and you were dying in your high school with never-ending exams and classes. both of you had forgotten about each other while also thinking of each other every second you could.
you were supposed to meet him on january 1st, in a café that he was raving about called the terrace, you had planned a whole thing so your parents wouldn’t get suspicious, you would go with your sisters to the café and come back with them, but spend all the time there with him.
it wasn’t easy to go behind your parents' back, it always felt like you were betraying them whenever you talked to jungkook but you were also in love, and your parents took a back seat for you on that day.
you waited in the café, and your sisters constantly asked where he was and when he was coming, you told them he would come in a minute or two, which stretched on for hours and the night ended with your sisters giving you pitiful gazes and long, silent hugs.
you came back home with an anger so familiar, so out of your control that you couldn’t see or say anything else.
“where were you?”
“i got drinks with my friends, i was going to leave i promise-“ and you cut the call, you watched your phone ring again and again until it went dead silent.
jungkook: please talk to me.
you: you know how difficult it is for me to come out with my parents watching my every move, you know how much i planned for this night and i did it because you kept blaming me for never going on dates.
jungkook: typing….
you: and when i do plan for a date, you end up going somewhere else?
jungkook: you think i don’t have a life of my own?
you blinked back tears that your anger let escape from your eyes, that was the first time you felt your chest physically hurt.
you: i never said that, jungkook.
jungkook: you know it’s funny because if you weren’t such a coward, maybe i wouldn’t have to beg you to meet me, maybe we would’ve already gone on dates, and today, i could enjoy with my friends the way i want to. you don’t even let me call you, my girlfriend.
you: don’t you dare call me a coward, my parents aren’t easy to deal with.
jungkook: saying that just makes you sound like even more of a coward.
you: if i’m such a coward, maybe you shouldn’t be with me anymore.
jungkook: maybe i shouldn’t, yeah.
you threw your phone aside, you wanted him to say i’m sorry, i fucked up, let me plan the next one, but instead, he was indifferent, as if nothing mattered to him anymore, as if you didn’t matter to him anymore.
you couldn’t picture this man as the same man who looked at you with stars in his eyes and a scary thought passed through your mind, he was madly in love with you only five days ago, and now, he wasn’t.
people could change, and then hurt you, so you vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t let anyone have the power to hurt you anymore.
you: so, we’re done?
jungkook: yeah.
you: please don’t smoke anymore.
jungkook: what i do is none of your business anymore.
-
and that was that.
you blocked him everywhere and he wallowed in his self-pity for days, you didn’t know how he was, which new people he met, if he smoked two or three cigarettes in a day anymore and he didn’t know about anything going on in your class, or about the new biology subject they introduced or about your friend's antics.
it was like he was never there in your life in the first place.
right after the breakup, you didn’t cry, you didn’t feel anything, you went to high school normally the next day and smiled while telling your friends, “i’m finally single!”
they looked concerned, then they laughed at your indifference to the breakup but your best friend leaned and asked, “are you okay?” and you nodded happily, “of course i am, he’s just a guy.”
but jungkook sadly wasn’t just a guy, he was your first love, your first ever brush with romance.
so, a month passed and you called your best friend.
sitting at the edge of your bed, you told her everything you knew about jungkook, you laughed at how stupid he could be sometimes, and you cursed him out for doing what he did but then, you started crying and you couldn’t stop crying, “i miss him, i miss my friend.”
she listened as you felt your heart finally tear apart inside you.
you knew you couldn’t trust anyone or love anyone again.
this time, it felt like a lifetime ended for you.
-
two years passed and you didn’t think of him anymore, you weren’t sure if he thought of you, you would only be reminded of his existence when exes and relationships came up in conversations with friends, those always ended with you bitterly cursing him.
you hated him.
the guy who showed you how love felt, was the guy you hated most now.
you moved cities, a better, bigger city and you tried to fall in love again, you did try.
you went on dates with your newly found freedom, you tried to like them and their stories, but the only stories that held any value to you from your youth were with or about jungkook. because you felt every face of your youth, with him.
and you couldn’t possibly talk about your first love with guys whose faces bled into each other until they all became one, and jungkook remained another.
but still, you rarely thought of him.
you didn’t think of him when you went on your first date ever (technically, you never went on a date with jungkook), you didn’t think of him when you called that guy every single night and told him superficial things about you, you never told him things that mattered, you had your first kiss and ended your first ever situationship.
but you weren’t hurt at all. you never gave another person the power to hurt you because you felt it once, and you had no intention to feel it again.
and after months of living in another city, you went back home for a while and your best friend insisted on going to the same café where you were supposed to meet jungkook, on the day of your breakup. it wasn’t her fault that it was the only good café in your tiny city.
you went.
you talked and laughed with your friend.
your phone pinged.
jungkook: you’re at the terrace?
perhaps, you forgot to mention that you unblocked him a while ago, it wasn’t to talk to him of course, it was just to remove negativity from your life (you wanted to feel that young love again).
you: yeah.
jungkook: wait.
you turned to your best friend with wide eyes, telling her that there was a huge possibility that jungkook was coming and she grimaced, she never liked him.
then, he strolled in, hands in pockets, and gave you this smile that covered years of doubt, you always thought he would glare at you and hate you but he just walked in, waved at you, and sat down without saying another word.
seeing him this up close after years of watching him from the corner of your eyes and the tilt of your head, filled you with a breathless excitement because he didn’t change, he didn’t change at all.
“hello, it’s been long,” he greeted you, and then the both of you broke into giggles at his formal tone, “it has been long, yeah.” you replied with a nod, begging for your eyes to hide their reviving affection.
then, you talked.
you had years to catch up on so you told him everything, you told him about your college, your still-horrible teachers, your friends, the new places you’ve explored, and how different everything was in the city you studied.
he listened with a carefulness that you never thought he possessed.
a simple but reckless thought caught you by the throat as jungkook leaned forward and laughed at something you said.
is this how it feels to make someone laugh?
is this how a date with him then would’ve been?
did i just miss out on everything good in life?
then, he told you everything and you listened.
jungkook stuttered multiple times because he had truly forgotten how his body got when you were around, he was suddenly aware of his every nerve, and he was aware of his fingertips that were centimeters apart from you, he was aware of your legs that were right next to his under the table and he was aware of you refusing to look at anyone but him as he spoke.
not even once did either of you acknowledge january 1st from two years ago.
“it’s 6 right now,” your best friend reminded you and you gasped, “already? shit, we have to go,” jungkook’s disappointment fell like water over his head and flooded his shoulders.
“where do you have to go?” he asked, as casually as he could.
“we have to meet another friend, a little bit far from here, so we’ve got to get going,” you said, and jungkook nodded, his car keys twirled in his hands, “do you mind dropping us?”
he almost jumped out of his seat to say yes, but remembered himself and nodded once again, “not a problem at all.”
all three of you were silent as you walked to his car which turned out to be a jeep of sorts, no surprises there and your friend got in the back, you got in the front and buckled your seat belt, your chest compressed a bit more as you tried to wave all of this as something friends did.
you were friends with him, in some way.
he got in as well and you felt twitchy in your seat, your eyes took in the unfamiliar car and jungkook watched as you saw another new thing in his life with boundless curiosity.
“you vape now?” you saw the three vapes thrown in the middle of the seat and he shrugged, “sometimes, you wanna try?” you shook your head, both as a reply to him and to shake away the odd memory of january 1st, when you had begged him to stop smoking.
“do you still smoke?”
“yep.”
you didn’t say anything as your heart sank.
he handed you his phone, as if it wasn’t something that contained everyone’s deepest, darkest secrets, he told you his passcode and let you choose whatever song you liked.
and as you scrolled through his song library, you found many songs that you had recommended to him years ago, “you still listen to these?”
jungkook tensed up, clearing his throat, he answered, “sometimes.”
you didn’t probe any further.
you didn’t play the songs you recommended either, things were weird already.
on the way, jungkook talked to your friend and then you, you talked to him, played all the songs you liked and at every stop sign, you ignored jungkook looking at you with a smile and soft eyes, as you turned to talk to your friend.
when you got down, you had a brief, disgusting thought of asking him to drive you around and just staying in his car to find out everything you missed in two years.
but you didn’t, you got down, you thanked him, he tipped his invisible hat at you and smiled, and you looked away, waving at him.
“not a word from you,” you told your smirking friend as you walked away from his car.
the rest of the night, you dreamed as your friends talked and got loud, you sighed as if you had someone to miss, you checked your phone constantly for any messages from him and sighed again when you didn’t get any.
but at midnight, your phone pinged.
jungkook: never thought i’d see you in my car lol.
you: never thought i’d be in your car.
jungkook: well, i’m always there if you need me.
jungkook: for a ride, i mean.
you: i’m always there too.
you: to give you company in your big, lonely car, i mean.
jungkook: is that so?
you: yeah, good night jungkook.
jungkook: god, good night.
both of you fell asleep with hope brimming in your dreams that night.
-
so, it started again, you texted every day, you told him everything you did in a day and he did the same for you, he still had this incredible ability to make you laugh when you felt down and you still fascinated him to no bounds.
and days bled into each other, you returned to the city where you studied, feeling a bit more homesick than you had before.
you got to know that he had failed some subjects in class, “how many?” you whispered as if it was a secret that no one should know, you couldn’t imagine failing, and he laughed, “it’s only five, you don’t have to ask like that,” but five failed subjects would’ve given you a heart attack.
he got to know that you started research with your professor, “will i understand even if you tell me what it is?” and you laughed, “i don’t think so,” he would later console you when the professor steals your work, “he sounded like a dick anyway, you deserve a much better mentor,” he pursed his lips when he heard you sniff on the other end, “do you think so?” and he couldn’t believe how little faith you had in yourself, “of course, i do.”
you started talking at night too, and those conversations, well, you never thought you would think of them again because they were so raw and so true and they reminded you of things that you thought you had forgotten.
through a phone, you both laid your hearts bare.
“have you been with anyone after…” his voice was rougher than you remembered, as if age and life had worn it down but both of you were still so young.
you weren’t as young as you once were though.
“yeah, one guy. and you?” you twisted the necklace resting on your collarbones as you asked him slowly, you didn’t want to know but you also wanted to know.
“a couple of people, yeah.”
“oh.” your disappointment was only felt by the four walls holding you in your room.
“none of them worked out though…none of them felt real,” jungkook bounced the smiley face foam ball in his hand as he stared up at the wall.
you didn’t know if he said that to console you or if it was just how things went.
“why not?”
“well, it all got so physical, there was no love or affection, i mean i didn’t feel it at all,” and you sucked in a breath, trying not to let jealousy coat your tongue when you spoke, “physical, huh.”
“don’t say it like that,” he laughed, sitting up on his bed, “these days, that’s how it goes, it shouldn’t but yeah, i guess sex just takes a front seat in relationships now.”
you didn’t want to talk about sex with jungkook, you didn’t want to know who he did it with.
“maybe.” you answered dismissively and he laughed again, “ey why are you being so awkward about it? it’s a natural thing,” and you groaned in embarrassment, “can we change the subject?”
“of course,” you sighed out in relief, “tell me, have you done anything at all?” you wanted to hit him through the phone and you let him know that, “i’m going to hit you, i swear to god, jungkook.”
“you gotta catch a flight for that now, so” he whistled into the phone and you didn’t fight the smile growing on your face, there were no witnesses except the darkness in your room, you were free to do whatever.
“i’ve only had my first kiss,” and jungkook regretted asking the question.
he had always thought he would be your first kiss.
“oh yeah?” he asked, no longer interested in knowing but for you, because it was already out, you wanted to share more with him, as a friend, so you kept going, “yeah, it was in a car,” your first kiss wasn’t bad, honestly it was everything anyone would want in a first kiss.
after saying that, you realized how dirty kissing in a car sounded, so you gasped and corrected, “but it was just a kiss, nothing else happened.”
jungkook shook his head, smiling into his phone, you still sounded so young, so much like the girl he fell in love with, “you don’t have to explain anything to me or anyone, you know that right?”
“right.” you breathed out, scolding yourself for overreacting.
“but, you know,” he said, in a softer tone, as if his next words contained magic, “yeah?” you whispered, your fingers now clutching your locket with all your strength.
“i love what we had,” and your breath hitched, your eyes filled with tears, and your adolescence that loved him reared its head again, “our love was so pure.” he continued, sighing into the phone as he turned over in his bed.
he never loved anyone the way he loved you, he didn’t even know he was capable of so much love until he met you and jungkook gave up on feeling it all again.
he waited for your reply with bated breath, not knowing if he went too far.
“it was.”
he smiled again; his heart filled with something that he tried to push away.
“don’t you have class tomorrow?” he asked, glancing at the clock that shined bright with 3:34, and you yawned, “it’s fine, keep talking.”
jungkook bit his lip to stop himself from squealing in happiness, you wanted to stay awake just to talk to him, “still, we have tomorrow, we can talk later, you go and get some sleep.”
and there was silence for a few seconds before another yawn came from you, “you know what, you’re right but we’ll talk later,” you said, a bit dazed from how sleepy you were.
“i’m always right,” he snickered and you scoffed, “whatever, good night, jungkook.”
“good night.”
you couldn’t stop thinking of his voice saying that your love was pure even when you dozed off and he clutched his phone to his heart, he could only wait for tomorrow to come sooner.
-
it was nice, not knowing exactly what you guys were or acknowledging your past, it was nice to pretend that you had never hurt each other in the first place. and many days passed by with both of you together, but not together.
“what did you do today?” you hummed into the phone as you fell onto your bed, you heard shuffling on the other side, and then noises, “uh i’m out right now,” his voice came in gargled and broken.
“oh, okay.” somehow, even if you tried to not think of it, you thought of how he never showed up to what would have been your first-ever date because he was out.
“i’ll call you later, is that alright?” he sounded like he was screaming over the sound and you couldn’t help but feel dejected, even if you had no right to feel that way now, “yeah, sure. have fun, good night.” you tried your best to sound perky and the call ended.
what were you even doing?
how did you think that talking to your ex would go or end well?
and why were you even still talking to the guy who broke your trust in people?
you rolled around on your bed, not being able to fall asleep, and not wanting to stay awake either, eventually, you gave up and read a book until you dozed off.
when you woke up the next day, there were no texts or calls from jungkook the way he’d promised he would. you threw your phone aside and got ready for the day.
then you woke up the day after, still nothing from him. and the day after, the day after that, and many days which you spent frustrated and alone.
you should’ve known how it would end with him.
-
jungkook: hellooo (4:40 pm).
you: hey (8:30 pm).
jungkook: busy day? (9:00 pm)
you: pretty hectic, yeah. (10:30 pm)
jungkook: call? (11:04 pm)
you: i’m pretty tired, another day? (11:10 pm)
jungkook: tomorrow? (11:24 pm)
you: another day. (11:37 pm)
jungkook: okay, good night. (11:45 pm)
you: good night. (12: 20 am)
jungkook: typing…
jungkook: typing…
he threw his phone away.
-
you weren’t sure exactly how it happened but soon, there were no messages or calls from jungkook, you heard from sunny that he shifted from the home down your lane but you didn’t bother texting or calling him either, you held your head high during the day and missed his voice in the night.
after a couple of weeks of minimal communication, you returned home with a nervous smile on your face, you hoped no one in your house noticed how often you checked your phone or how you sometimes talked to yourself in the darkness of your room.
you went back to the same café, again it was no one’s fault that there wasn’t a better café in your city, you sat across your best friend, sipping on your hot chocolate and nodding to whatever she said, trying not to avert your gaze to your surroundings.
you’re sure you saw jungkook outside, but you’re not sure if he saw you and a nervous pit sat in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again.
why did meeting him feel like the first time every single time?
you shook your head, leaning in to hear your best friend until she got up to use the restroom, you leaned back on your chair and let out a sigh.
you couldn’t even enjoy some good brunch without thinking of his ridiculous face.
then, the door opens and you pay no mind to it, you scroll through your phone, liking and watching reels and then someone sits next to you, and your eyes immediately snap up to tell them to fuck off.
but then your eyes melt.
“hey,” jungkook smiles, one of his cheeks pressed against his fist that propped him up and you almost smile back, you almost forget everything again.
the calls he never made, the texts he never sent, how he acted suddenly too busy for you, the invisible rejection, you were ready to forget it all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be okay with that.
“is it easy for you?” he sits up, his smile wavers a bit, “what do you mean?”
“is it easy for you to act like nothing happened? like we never fought and broke up?” you didn’t recognize your voice; it came out so stern but you felt so weak.
“but nothing happened, sure we broke up, but that’s a normal thing, everyone goes through breakups and ends up as friends.”
“are we friends?”
he does not answer, he looks away instead at the painting of a dog on the wall.
and your anger almost runs you over.
“jungkook, are we friends?”
“…yeah.” he hesitates, jungkook feels his heart in his throat as you stare at him with so much disappointment and so much hurt, he never knew that you cared about the breakup, he had always thought that you would’ve moved on very quickly but the tears flashing in your eyes proved him wrong.
he didn’t know what to do with the fact that you were hurt during the breakup, he only pitied himself and thought of himself but he never stopped to think that maybe you had enough love for him, to feel hurt too.
“as my friend, i need to tell you something then,” you gathered your courage, you were going back tomorrow so you wouldn’t have to deal with the reality of it.
“go on,” he bit his lips and tapped his fingers on the table, and your friend walked back in, she raised her eyebrows at his figure sitting next to you and then looked at you with both concern and a thousand questions.
you stared at her with pursed lips and she nodded, grabbing her earphones, putting them on, and sitting across from you, head and eyes turned away from your conversation.
“i think i started liking you again,” you still liked him, “somewhere in the middle, i got a bit confused and my feelings grew again.” you watched his reaction with careful eyes, he only looked back at you with blinking eyes.
“but i don’t like you,” came his reply, and you sucked in a breath, heartbreak fresh as ever settled in your chest.
then, why did you call me at night and tell me our love was pure?
“i know, that’s why i said it in the past tense, i don’t feel that way anymore,” but you did, you just couldn’t do anything about it anymore.
“well then, that’s good, right? we can go back to being normal.” he clapped his hands with a joyous smile that made you want to rip his head off, “no, i don’t think i can do this anymore.”
his hands fell and so did his smile, his ego returned and put a scowl on his face.
“can you make a decision here?” he thought back to all the times you corrected him when he called you his girlfriend and his annoyance grew above his head.
“i am making a decision here, don’t get snappy with me” you spat back at him, your mind flooded with every time he led you on and hurt you, “i can’t do this confusing shit with you anymore, i don’t think we can ever be friends and i don’t see a point in trying to force it.” you huffed out, falling back on your seat.
“so, we just never talk again?” he mumbled, you couldn’t read his face anymore.
“i guess so, yeah,” another lifetime of yours flashed before your eyes as he nodded, pushing the salt and pepper shakers on the table, and then he got up abruptly.
please don’t run, please make me stay this one time, you tried to beg without saying a single word.
“then, let’s do that,” jungkook nodded at you again, he nodded at your friend and left the chair as it was before he ever came.
once again, it felt like he never existed in your life before this.
“are you okay?” your best friend’s earphones were now neatly folded on the table, and you nodded furiously, “of course i am, he’s just a guy.”
-
years passed again.
he cleared his subjects from what you’ve heard, you were done with your degree, on time unlike him, from what he’s heard and jungkook was on another step of his life again.
he stared at the unfamiliar faces in his class with resignation and sighed to himself, jungkook kept lifting and dropping his phone at every notification and groaning every time he saw it was from his life insurance, his one message remained unread.
jungkook: i start my master's today. (5:00 am)
he stared at the message until his eyes grew blurry, it was noon now and you hadn't seen it, intentionally of course, and just when he put it down one more time, he heard a ping.
you: good luck. (11:45 am)
he stared at it until he grew annoyed and deleted the entire chat.
-
you were going to america to study, it had taken a lot out of you in preparation for it and after hugging your parents and family goodbye and crying for hours in the airport, you pulled out your phone and nervously hovered over his profile. you started typing with dried-up tear streaks on your face.
you: i’m going to america today.
jungkook: really?
jungkook felt uneasy about the sudden large distance between you two even if you hadn’t spoken in ages.
jungkook: all the best.
jungkook: be happy, always.
you bit your lip as you looked away with a quivering chin and tears lined your eyes again, you deleted the entire chat too.
-
a year into being on a new continent, you felt all kinds of homesickness and excitement for your new home still, you worked harder than you ever had. and as bad as it sounds, you had forgotten that you once knew a boy called jungkook or that you ever loved him with your entire being.
he had become a thing of the past, something you never talked about anymore even if your friends brought up exes and relationships, he became a ghost of sorts, and only you could see him now.
you didn’t know what he was up to, if he ever finished his masters or racked up backlogs there too and you didn’t bother yourself by thinking about it too much.
but when it came to jungkook, you didn’t have to think about him to come into your life, he just came and went whenever he wanted.
nothing else could explain why you would find him, of all people in the world, under the neon lights of a house party that you were at, on a different continent.
and you didn’t feel anything, not any residual love or even the desire to be near him, you just felt wary about seeing him again.
he also saw you and gave a nervous smile. you smiled back and disappeared into the balcony.
suddenly, your wariness grew into pain, and your pain grew into a longing that you shouldn’t feel anymore.
you slid down on the wall and brought your knees up to hug them as you laid your head on your thighs and breathed, just breathed.
the balcony door opened again.
you knew who it was. maybe you had hoped that this would happen too, but for now, you didn’t look at him.
you heard his groan as he sat down beside you, his hands and knees almost touching yours.
and that’s when you realize, in all the years you’ve known him, this was the closest he ever came to you.
was this why he had called your love pure then?
because you had never touched each other, but felt each other in every corner of your existence?
“what are you doing here?” you whispered into your legs but he still heard you, “vacation, didn’t think i’d see you here.”
“i didn’t think either.”
“kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?” he laughed with emotion you couldn’t decipher, his warmth bled into you as you leaned on him a bit.
you felt the shape of a cigarette box in his pockets but swallowed your hurt.
after years, maybe you just wanted to touch him and see what it’s like. and he didn’t question your knees knocking against his.
“that we keep running into each other? i’m starting to think you stalk me,” you teased, a small weight of your longing lifted off you.
“oh please, if anything, you are stalking me,” he teased right back, feeling himself ease into this situation with you, just like every other time.
but as nice as it was to be this comfortable, you were still so consumed with questions that haunted you. and there was no one else here, no best friends, no sisters, no parents to worry about, no one but you and him.
“why didn’t you admit that you liked me back then?” you lifted your head to stare at him, there was no malice in your question nor any accusation, just curiosity.
“so, you knew?” he cleared his throat with a sheepish smile on his face, jungkook’s eyes shined the same way they had when you were in that bus, all those years ago.
“you told me our love was pure at 3 am, it wasn’t too hard to understand,” you shrugged, as if saying it out loud didn’t take your entire heart out of your chest.
he shook his head while laughing softly, “always such a smartass,” and you smiled, “you’re just too dumb.”
that’s when he really laughed and the stars of the night came together to light his face up as he threw his head back, you stopped yourself from falling in love again.
“well,” he breathed out, jungkook’s face contorted to become more serious and you knew that whatever he said next took a lot for him too.
“you always felt too big for my love, as if i could give you everything and that still wouldn’t be enough.”
your eyes dropped at their corners.
“what?”
“i don’t know, you were always so passionate, so good to others, so fucking smart and you had your shit figured out, you always told me these things that sounded so magical but i never fully understood them. i knew i couldn’t ever match up to that, even if i loved you with all of me,” he whispered, he clenched his eyes shut to avoid looking at you as he spoke, “i knew that even if i loved you, i couldn’t love you the way someone else could, someone who could love and match up to you.”
“jungkook,” you whispered too but your voice broke, and your throat grew scratchy with emotion.
“i’m telling the truth by the way, when you said you were leaving for america, it took everything in me to not pack a bag and follow you,” then, he opened his eyes and looked at you, you felt like you were back in 9th grade, staring at him with a tilt of your head.
“why did you say you stopped liking me then?” he asked next and waited patiently for you to wipe the corners of your eyes.
“i was always afraid that somewhere i would disappoint you and the idea of our relationship. you liked me so much and i felt that i had to live up to what you liked, otherwise, you wouldn’t like me and i’d be alone again,” you whispered the last part slower than anything else, “that wasn’t your fault though, i guess i was just scared of not being who i thought we would be.”
you sniffed and stared at your feet that lined up with his.
he stayed silent beside you until your sniffs grew louder.
then, he pulled your head over his shoulder and let you cry until the sunrise came and took away everything that the night tried to protect.
you woke up in an empty bed the next morning and when you left, you saw jungkook sitting on the couch, long arms stretching over the back of it, you stopped for a second to see if he’d get up and wrap them around you, to acknowledge all the love he showed you last night, you waited for him to utter a word that would make you stay.
but he only blinks at you.
you run out the door, you don’t know if his voice calling to you was him, or a creation of your deepest, most shameful wishes.
-
several years passed once more.
you don’t know why you invited jungkook to your wedding, you didn’t know if he would even come, but seeing him enter through the same doors that your now-husband had, pierced you with something sharp. he came up the stage, his eyes never left your face, and stood next to you for a photograph.
you didn’t look to see if he smiled or not. his hands hovered over your waist and your breath got caught in your throat, jungkook handed your husband a bouquet with a polite smile, he looked older, and quieter but his eyes remained shiny as ever.
when he started to pull apart and leave, you grabbed his arm, “stay for dinner, okay?” and he nodded, giving you a playful salute and exiting the stage.
you smiled at your husband and continued to take photos.
at dinner, you and your husband sat next to him as polite hosts would and talked about superficial things; jobs, taxes, work-life balance, and life.
“i think i’ll leave now,” he got up from his seat and you got up too, “i’ll see him off and come back,” you squeezed your husband’s hands which jungkook looked away from.
outside, it was just the two of you again.
“do you love him?” you weren’t shocked at his question.
“i do.” you really do.
“but you never loved me, did you?” he laughed bitterly, but his face held years of hurt and you held back your tears.
“i did.” you really did.
jungkook had been waiting to hear those words for half of his life and now that he’s heard them, he thinks he can let you go now.
“it was not easy for me to invite you.” you admitted with a nervous laugh, your eyes darting down to the gravel road.
“it isn't easy for me to be here,” he loosened his tie around his neck and his voice now reminded you of how old your first love got and how far away you were from the bus where you fell in love.
“but god, after so long,” your voice held every bit of yearning and nostalgia you felt.
a montage of your very young, very long, and very stupid love played in your eyes and you blinked it away.
“it sucks that we didn't work out.” it didn’t just suck, if jungkook told you how he really felt about seeing you with your husband, you would slap him.
he could do better, he won’t but he could.
“maybe we were just supposed to love each other then, you know? maybe it wasn't supposed to grow at all,” you answered, even if you knew it wasn’t entirely the truth, your love growing was out of your control.
but maybe you two weren’t ever supposed to love each other so much, maybe you were supposed to love each other a little and then let it go but both of you had been stubborn, both of you clung onto the innocence of your love, something that you paid the price for, for years.
“i dont know about all that, i just know that our love was-“
“pure.” you told and jungkook smiled, shaking his head, “yes, pure.”
“i still don't know why i loved you so much,” jungkook wondered why it had started, the deep infatuation and affection he held for you, was unnatural.
“i don't either,” you never understood why your lives were entangled for so long.
“will i see you again?” there was no hope in his tone, only a simple question with a simple affection.
“no, i think this is a good ending point, don't you?”
“so i don't get to show off my wife like you showed off your husband?”
“well in that case, maybe we will.” though, you burned on the inside as you imagined another person standing next to him.
“right, maybe we will.”
a silent smile passed between you two and when jungkook left, he squeezed your hands, “thank you for letting me feel love so early in my life. i wish you and your husband well.”
“thank you for loving me so early in my life. i wish you and your future wife well.”
he walked away but he looked back.
please don’t stay with him for too long.
you gave a weak smile.
please don’t find someone else.
and then you separated, another lifetime ended but this time, for the both of you.
#bts#bts imagines#bts fluff#bts angst#bts scenarios#namfinessed#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook#jungkook au#jungkook one shot#jungkook fic#jungkook fic recs#jungkook masterlist#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fic recs#bts fics#bts masterlist#bts x reader#bts drabble#bts fanfic
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Late Date
Summary: It’s your birthday and Tyler’s going to do some wrangling to make sure no tornado can ruin your day. Unfortunately, that also makes him and the Wranglers a bit late to your party.
Notes/Warnings: Fluff. It’s not angsty at all, despite how the summary may sound. Inaccurate meteorology/tornado stuff. Slight jealousy. This is based on a lyrics request: “you’ve got long hair slicked back white t shirt and I’ve got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt.” It’s just meant to be kinda cute, and I did my best, so hopefully you guys like it. Comments make my entire world, so if you do like it, let me know :)
Words: 1650
Tyler Owens Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List
It happens often. You and Tyler are enjoying your time together when Disaster suddenly puts you in her path. A picnic in the park, a late-evening rodeo, a dinner date for him to meet your mother—all ruined. And yes, you believe Disaster does this intentionally. Disaster, in the form of a funnel of warm air and moisture, is as much in love with your boyfriend as you are, and she’s a jealous bitch, always calling him away when he’s in the throes of life with you.
Luckily for Tyler, you’re not as jealous as his tornado. You’re not as greedy. When he leaves you to meet her, you let him go because he’s the town hero, and you don’t let your emotions get in the way of his job. After all, he does what he does to save the things he loves—this town, his family, you. And regardless of the time he spends with her, you know you’re his number one.
Today, however, you could do without his job. The jealousy that you have rarely felt up to this point seeps through as he throws your favorite white t-shirt of his over his sculpted chest before buckling the belt wrapped around his jean-clad hips. He stomps one foot down into his boot and then the other before rifling through the dresser chest at the base of the bed.
“You have to do this on my birthday?” you ask, trying not to pout from your seated position on the mattress. The silk sleeve of your robe falls down your shoulder, exposing bare skin, and despite the chill, you don’t pull the garment back up your arm. Anything to keep him in this bed, you think, and for a moment, you you’re satisfied that it might be working. Tyler pauses on his hunt for a clean flannel as his eyes glue to your chest, your pebbled nipples just barely hidden by the rest of the smooth, thin material.
You sit up on your knees and wrap your arms around his neck, but it’s from your touch that Tyler finally blinks, shakes his head, and says, “Darlin’, wouldn’t you rather feel reassured that your evening tonight will go tornado-free? I’m just going to go with the guys, disrupt anything that’s already formed, and observe the conditions as best I can so we don’t get any coming our way when we’re supposed to be celebrating another year of your life.”
It’s hard to argue with him when he hits you with logic, but it’s made harder by the pout on his face. That is supposed to be your pout. He’s the one leaving you on your birthday—decent reason or not—not the other way around.
“Fine,” you say.
Tyler grins from ear to ear. He leans in and captures your lips in a long kiss before pulling back and brushing your unkempt hair out of your face. “We’ll meet you at the bar, ok?”
Nodding, you say, “Yea,” and untangle your arms from his neck. He gives you one last kiss.
“Happy Birthday, darlin’” glides to your ear in his smooth, low voice, and then he’s out the door.
—
“He’ll be here,” your cousin tells you. You’ve been staring at the bar door for a half-hour, disappointed with each new blond cowboy who walks into the crowded space. “When has he ever let you down?”
You sigh. “I know. But why did the bitchy tornadoes have to run wild today of all days? He said they chased four between here and the next town over, and two of them put up a real fight,” you say, relaying the information of Tyler’s earlier texts. “Plus, it’s raining now. That’ll only make it more difficult for them to get back.”
The bartender offers you and your cousin the drinks she ordered. She winks at him and downs the entire glass in one gulp—which he seems to find very impressive—before nudging your glass closer to your folded hands atop the counter.
“Well, the only thing to do is drink up,” she orders. “Might as well have fun while we wait.”
—
You’re two drinks in. Your cousin has knocked back four, and while she’s no lightweight, the effects show in the uptick of her flirtiness with the bartender. She’s agreed to wait around until his shift is over, which was quickly retracted when she remembered that it’s your birthday and the fun she is meant to be having is with you, not the hot guy who stopped charging her for drinks an hour ago. But you assuage her guilt, knowing you have no intention of hanging around a crowded bar until two in the morning unless your boyfriend is going to be with you, birthday or not.
With the acceptance of your third drink, you hope to easier ignore the appreciative glances from the blond cowboys on the other side of the mass of dancers in the center of the room. You must be a sunny-haired, country boy’s type, but they aren’t your man, and to be honest, you’re surprised they’re daring enough to look so long. The town is small enough that you figured by now everyone knows you’re Tyler’s girl, but clearly, that’s not the case. Either that or they just don’t care.
When you start to feel it—the slight high, the looser inhibitions—you decide the best course of action is to simply ignore them, and so you hop down from the stool and make your way to the dance floor to do exactly that, planting yourself in the middle of a group of like-minded women swaying their hips to the tune. Like that, you let yourself go, alcohol allowing you to surrender to the flow of the feminine voice coming through the speakers. Your mind drifts, your eyes close, and when you feel a hand on your waist, you think of Tyler. When hips grind against yours, you think of Tyler. When lips touch your neck, you think of Tyler. And when your eyes open, you see Tyler.
He steps into the bar with the Wranglers in tow, his soaked white t-shirt clinging to his torso that every woman—even those invested in men of their own—notices, his hands slicking back his damp locks. With a grin on his handsome face, he glances around the space in search of you, but when he finds you, that grin drops faster than a rock can hit the ground.
It’s then that you realize the paws on your body are not his. The breath hitting behind your ear is that of a stranger. Tyler’s stomping his way over to you, but you don’t need him to release his building rage because you have plenty of your own.
Flipping around, your palm meets the cheek of one of the knock-off Tylers. He yelps and rubs his face. His irises turn red, and he looks ready to give you a scolding or call you some sort of vile name, but his eyes widen at the shadow that suddenly looms over you and he shrinks where he stands.
“Y-Your girlfriend?” he eeks out.
It’s fascinating to see the demeanor shift. Tyler must have more of a reputation than you realized. You haven’t lived in town long—you moved in with him three weeks ago after a year of long-distance dating—but you’ve known for a while that he is well-loved and anyone who crosses him crosses the town. What you didn’t know was that the people’s devotion to their tornado-wrangling hero could incite such fear. And honestly, you’re a little impressed; a little turned on.
Tilting your chin up, the back of your head lands against your boyfriend’s chest. His arm comes around your waist, hand flattening over your stomach. “You think?” he spits.
When knock-off Tyler skitters back to the gaggle of knock-off Tylers, your Tyler turns you around to face him. With a cocked brow, he says, “Now, darlin’, what was that?”
You shrug. “Thought he was you.”
Tyler looks over your shoulder to the group of blonds. His eyes narrow. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve had a bit to drink,” you chuckle.
His mouth parts, an ahh sound leaving his throat as if to say, ‘That explains it.’ “Where’s your cousin?” His gaze follows yours to the familiar woman whose body is half thrown over the countertop, her lips connected to the guy whose neglect of other patrons is about to cause a riot. But you don’t care about a likely-to-be-fired bartender; you care that your boyfriend was absent for so much of your birthday.
“What took you so long?”
You’ve started to gently sway with the music again, this time taking the correct Tyler with you. Your hands clasp behind his neck as his link around your waist, pulling you in close.
“Sorry, darlin’. It was rougher than we anticipated,” he says, and though you expected to be much more put out, you feel settled with that explanation. You’re just happy he’s with you now and not standing you up for a date with his unpredictable weather. “You look pretty,” he tells you as his palms slide down over the skirt that’s snuggly fitted around your hips. “I haven’t seen this one before.”
“Bought it today.”
“For me?”
“For me.” You roll your eyes. “But I might have guessed you’d like it.”
He hums, gaze raking appreciate up your body to your mouth. “I do,” he says, then he presses his lips to yours. However, remembering the scarlet hue coating your lips, you quickly pull back.
“Your whole mouth is going to be red if you keep kissing me.”
Tyler’s brow pinches. One hand’s fingers glide up your body and slip between the strands of your hair. “Good,” he says. “Then people will know we’re a matching set.”
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⋆。°✩ DARLING, DON'T BE AFRAID
Summary: Despite living with Xavier for the past few weeks, you still haven't taken the plunge to see if all this time together make you anything more than roommates especially when he disappears again in the middle of the night. Determined, you decide to question him on where his feelings lie. You just never thought a simple kiss on the cheek was the only push needed.
Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader
Content Warning: Roommates AU, Vanilla Smut (A lot of it. Like 7k words of smut), Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Emotional Sex
Word Count: 12,000~
Note: Sequel to Do Roommates Sleep Together. This part can be read as a standalone. So not necessary to read part one but it adds more context.
AO3 Link
You make a final decisive pull of the trigger. A loud pang resonates in the air and smoke spirals off the barrel. The Wanderer disappears in a wisp of debris and dust that is quickly caught in the wind.
Xavier stands a few feet in front of you. His sword twirls with one final arc of light illuminating behind the sharpened tip before it dematerializes in his hand. You’re oblivious to the way his eyes search and find you on instinct as you run eager fingertips on the warm barrel of your pistol.
“Mission completed. We should report back.”
You raise your head to meet his gaze while your gloved fingers remain faithfully on your weapon. The adrenaline from a successful mission is still surging through you.
“I want to test out my guns some more.”
His eyes soften at your response, but the weight of his gaze is still heavy as he walks towards you and places his hand on your head.
“There will be more Wanderers tomorrow,” he murmurs. His thumb gently brushes your forehead before his hand swoops back over your hair. Though your hands were still itching for another battle, your mind was weak to the calmness of his tone, like the slow tumble of waves on the shore, as he coaxes your head back to look at him more directly. “Let’s go home.”
This time you do not protest. Even if you did, what could you possibly say?
Your aggression relaxes along with your shoulders, allowing you to give in to his request with a quick holstering of your twin guns.
You return to headquarters and give your mission report to Jenna – pausing only to poke fun when she mentions how much Xavier’s reporting time has improved since the two of you became partners – then you start on the way home with the sun kissing at your back.
Laughter fills the air on the streets. Immediately, you feel warm inside. It was only thanks to the work you do every day that citizens could enjoy this peaceful dusk without fear of monsters scrambling to destroy the city like so many years ago.
It’s rewarding to know you hold some small part in the safety of the city after almost dying in the catastrophe as a child. You breathed it in fully, letting joy fill your lungs as you savor the calm moment. The emotion is only highlighted by the fact that when you look to your side, you can see Xavier there, putting weight to the empty space left in the wake of your family’s death.
Walking home together in the past was a random occurrence, happening whenever your busy schedules after missions aligned. As freshly cemented roommates, it was almost a given you’d walk home together now. Not just to the apartment complex, but to an actual shared home.
This path you go along every day has become special in that time. It’s full of promises, the kind you could only wish for on snowy New Year's evenings as you tied red ribbons to the shrine gate and prayed for good things to happen in your life. Not a lot of those wishes came true but Xavier did.
In that way, you were a fortunate person.
It was only your guess if he felt the same. You want to ask him. Unlike when you’re fighting Wanderers, you’re not brave when it comes to Xavier - a part of you prefers to leave things between you unsaid. It’s safer that way as you can keep living in a beautiful world of your own illusions.
Therefore, you’re unable to help yourself. Pinching the sleeve of his uniform, you tug on it gently to gain his attention; Xavier looks at you with glossy glazed eyes. He’s always so sluggish after missions. His steps slow and methodical, like a robot, as he barely manages to straighten his spine and raise his head.
“Chin up, Xavier. We’re almost there.”
“I’m exhausted,” he says.
You don’t need to hear him say it to understand. You think you’ve become good at reading his body language by now. Donning a sympathetic smile, you shift your hand, aiming for a lower target, and entwine your fingers with his under the guise of leading him faster.
“My next solution is carrying you by the way.”
A smile cracks on his face, impossibly light as his gaze drifts to the hold you have on his hand. “I don’t think you could carry me.”
“You dare doubt me?” Truth be told, he was right. He was tall and muscular and much thicker under that uniform than he looked. He would probably crush you under his weight if you tried to lift him. Despite how improper it was to think, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to place his weight on top of you in another way. You tick up the corner of your lips into a surprisingly innocent smile opposite of the images in your imagination as you flash your bicep to him. “I’m very strong.”
“I think it would make more sense if I carried you.”
“I can walk.”
“I don’t see why that matters,” he says with a yawn, and you smile.
“Are you sure you won’t drop me?”
“If it’s a choice between falling asleep and dropping you then I’ll definitely stay awake. Otherwise, you might end up carrying me after all,” he says. Xavier always manages to be unfailingly charming. Given the mystery of his past and the way he carries himself, you often question exactly what kind of upbringing he had. You almost ask but your interrogation doesn’t have the chance to plant seeds when he stops in front of you and kneels.
You thought he was joking when he said he’d carry you home but that doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and letting him scoop your legs up around his solid waistline.
His clasp on the back of your thighs makes you shiver. You feel like a touch-starved virgin that the simple strength of his hands over the thickness of your pants incited such a reaction out of you, so you bury your burning face against the back of his neck.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
Xavier must feel your hair against his neck, and you use the fact he can’t see your face to your advantage as you nod against his nape.
“Just hungry.”
For his part, Xavier doesn’t question your sudden hunger. Instead, he asks what you’re in the mood for and starts to list the restaurants that you pass on the way to the apartment complex.
You lay your cheek against him, watching the many buildings pass you by until you point out one you don’t recognize, flashing with many signs about a grand opening.
“How about that one?” you ask.
Xavier chuckles, continuing on in his steps past the building in question. “It’s not that great.”
“How do you know?”
“I tried them out.”
You squeeze into his shoulders, pushing off of them in a childlike manner and an even more dramatic gasp. “Without me?”
“I was going to bring you something back, but they weren’t very tasty. I like your cooking a lot more.”
You know he can’t see you, but you puff out your cheeks anyway. You wrap your arms tightly around him again, willing your heart not to skip when his back tenses as your chest compresses against him.
“Are you asking me to cook dinner for you? I’m quite exhausted after all that running around,” you tell him sarcastically.
He accidentally makes you regret your teasing when he agrees with a compassionate offer, “I’ll cook for you today.”
Hearing the word cook from his mouth makes your stomach sour. If there’s one thing after all these months you learned, it’s that Xavier is a…creative cook to put it gently. Or rather, he has zero cooking ability if it involves electricity. You didn’t mind. The two of you make it work with you doing most of the cooking and him cleaning up after, at your own behest, because if he had his way, he’d be in the kitchen much more often.
“On second thought, I’ll cook.”
“You still don’t trust me,” he says with a sigh. Guilt tingles through you. However, your continued survival outweighs the guilt that the memory of his puppy eyes can draw out of you. “I’ll handle the cold stuff, and I’ll leave the meat to you.”
“Deal,” you say, nuzzling your head against his neck.
When you get home, the night pans out like it always does. The two of you take turns in the shower with dinner being cooked shortly after, and the human garbage disposal known as your roommate leaves very little work for you to do once all is said and done.
You decide to start on the last of chores for today while Xavier washes the dishes. It’s routine to check the plants before going to bed as the many potted flowers were like your own children after you spent so many hours tending to them, finding the perfect ratio of nutrients and water to keep them thriving.
It is also routine to hunt down the birds so lovingly named Fatso and Alarm Clock by the sleepy man of the house to give them some of the seeds and nuts you regularly brought home from the store. You told Xavier that happy birds would stop eating his strawberries when in reality you liked to spoil them.
So, you spread out the seeds on the ground for them, leaving them there for later.
“If you feed them, they’ll never leave.”
You can’t help the laugh that leaves you. As much as he complains about the birds, you think, if his constant curiosity about the birds’ day-to-day lives was anything to go by, that he’d miss the two fluffy creatures if they were to ever find new nesting grounds. You turn back to the balcony door with a cheeky grin. “I have experience with things that don’t leave after you feed them. You enjoyed dinner a little too much.”
It’s hard to see in the fading light but Xavier blushes and brings a shy grip to the back of his neck. “Last I checked you moved in with me.”
That silences you. There’s no denying his observation, and you fail to notice him getting closer until he reaches his hand out to help you up. You willingly reach out, hand sinking into his touch as he lifts you to your feet.
The coolness of your palms touching slowly births a lingering warmth. The soft squeeze around your hand makes it hard to let him go but eventually you must. Otherwise, you might say things that are better kept to yourself as you walk back into the house and close the sliding door behind you.
With a pounding heart, you retire to your room early.
This room is a little different from the master room at your old apartment. The wall color is a little different brighter and it’s smaller. Luckily, you made the space work pretty easily by migrating half your plushie collection into Xavier’s room, checking like a dutiful mother to make sure he was treating them right and placing them with love should they roll off his dresser. Sighing, you change into slightly more comfortable clothes, choosing a random pair of soft shorts and a tank top to wear before climbing into bed. It’s ten when you finally let your eyes slip shut, and it's around eleven you feel someone touching you.
Your eyelids are surprisingly heavy; you can barely pry them open enough to see the wisp of grey-brown hair shadowing medium-blue eyes. You don’t protest as you feel his fingertips brush along your waist or when his knee digs into the mattress, sinking you towards his weight.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he wants. You raise your arm enough to let your fingertips greet the curve of his chin in silent acceptance. Slowly, you drop your hand and squeeze his bicep. Like a good little soldier, he follows the order to fall into the bed with you.
The most comfortable position is to slot your arm on top of his as he hugs your waist, props his leg on top of yours, and spoons your back. There’s absolutely zero space between your lower halves; and if he notices how you, with a small amount of shame, subtly shift and push yourself back on him a little more, he doesn’t say as he lolls his head against the curve of your neck while his incredibly light exhaling on your skin comforts you after a long day.
With a flutter of your eyelids, you slowly slip back into sleep with the happiness that comes with being roommates with your crush.
It’s times like these that make you think maybe he loves you. It’s also times like these that make you forget that despite all of the endearing things about him and despite how much you care about him, you don’t truly know a lot about him.
Xavier has always been a man with a lot of secrets. You’ve known this since you first met him asleep in the forest. It’s true that you once accepted the fact you’d never learn all his secrets but that was before whatever this abnormal relationship that the two of you found yourself in.
Even after living together for more than two months now, you still had no idea where he would go when he would sneak off in the middle of the night. You didn’t question where he goes anymore, you found that he wouldn’t give you a straight answer to save his life. You merely stayed up until you heard the sound of the door opening or the warped echo of air being sucked into a vacuum, indicating he teleported inside.
So, when you wake up at two in the morning, finding yourself alone and the side of the bed where he laid mere hours ago already cold, you’re not surprised.
Getting out of bed, you slip on your slippers and drag your feet to the balcony. It’s a familiar situation when you collapse into the swing chair, with nothing but the cold and the chirping of the birds to keep you company until he undoubtedly returns with his body hosting a family of fresh wounds.
It’s incredibly frustrating because you love him and seeing him hurt, without you having been there to prevent it, drives you crazy. You wonder why he won’t tell you, and your heart sinks, as quickly as a stone cast in a lake, with the idea that maybe you were the only one thinking that your relationship meant more than it did. Because even after all this time, you still aren’t close to him in the way you want.
Clenching your fists, you shove your eyes against them. It was all so infuriating when he ran off to fight Wanderers or whoever and left you all alone to overthink and worry about him like some helpless house plant. It was enough to make you want to cry as the strange foreboding sense of losing him begins to echo inside of you, making you nauseous. There’s only one way to get rid of this feeling. Taking in a deep breath, you settle to give him a piece of your mind about sneaking off so much and also to bite the bullet to confess your feelings.
It was only a matter of waiting for him to actually return home and to get your heightened nerves to stop firing in every direction in the meantime.
By the time you heard the door to the apartment creaking open, you’d nearly fallen asleep in the wicker swing chair. You swallow down the bitter taste of fear, ignoring the tumultuous waves it makes when it hits your stomach. You’d never get anywhere if you didn’t face him.
Carefully, you hop up from your seat and make slow strides into the apartment. It’s still dark in the house; you hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights earlier. Yet Xavier carries a lightness around him, mostly imagined by yourself, that makes him easy to spot in the darkness.
For a moment, things seem normal as he takes a few stiff steps forward. Suddenly, he falls forward, the white of his uniform nearly a blur with how fast he collapses onto the sofa, but it is nothing compared to the speed at which you rush to his side.
You call his name, press two fingers to his throat, and let your eyes slip closed with a desperate concentration as you search for his pulse behind the blaring red of his collar.
It’s a gradual pace, averaging twenty beats a minute and slowly rising. For anyone else, you’d immediately rush them to the hospital. For Xavier, that number is a relief.
You hold your hand to your pounding heart, practicing deep measured inhales to calm it. It appears he fell asleep as soon as he entered the room, with only enough awareness to kick off his shoes at the door.
It looks like your lecture will have to be postponed for another day.
You’re thankful for all the training you had to take to become a hunter because it takes an enormous amount of effort to throw one of his arms over your shoulders and drag him to his bedroom. You make a mental note to never let him question your ability to carry him again as you sit him on the bed and shuffle off his uniform jacket, leaving him only in his pants.
In a tender motion, you gently cup his face and examine him. Dirt cakes his face; and when you brush it away, there’s a small cut on his cheek. It hits you again just how reckless and secretive he can be, echoing with a bitter thought that he didn’t bring you again. The only bright spot is the little cut is his only injury this time.
Laying him on his back, you leave for only a moment to get a warm washcloth and an adhesive from the bathroom. It’s a blue band-aid with a cartoonish pink bunny on it, something a kid would love and has probably been collecting dust in the drawer longer than you’ve been alive.
It takes all the seriousness out of your body when you return, clean his face off, and place the colorful bandage on his cheek. It’s hard to believe this narcoleptic pretty boy was the strongest member of the Hunters Association.
“I didn’t think when we moved in together I was going to become a babysitter,” you commented with a little huff and poke of his cheek. “You’re terrible at taking care of yourself. Can’t cook. Can’t stay awake. Can’t tell someone when you’re going out. I bet you didn’t even lock the door when you came in. …What if a Wanderer floated in after you and trampled all the flowers, or did you just not want to leave any for me tomorrow?”
You know your complaints are falling on deaf ears as he cuddles up to his pillow without a care in the world. But if you didn’t complain, you’d get depressed instead. Dropping to your knees, you sit on the floor and prop your elbow on the bed to get a better look at him.
He looks so peaceful.
There’s no tension, no crease to his expression. It’d be easy to mistake him for a normal young man if it weren’t for the strong humming of his Evol tickling at the wall of your resonance.
“I’ll let you sleep, but you’re getting it in the morning! I expect answers. Otherwise, I won’t cook breakfast for you,” you attempt to sound threatening in your words with every poke to his cheek a not-so-silent promise to follow through. “I’ll take my missions with the new recruit all the ladies at work gossip about. And the next time I get a snack shipment, I’m letting Jeremiah have first pick!”
With one last prod to his face and no reaction otherwise, you stop your demands and sit back on your legs.
Bit by bit, you feel your energy dissolving. It’s no use. It’s all empty threats. You’ll probably not cook for a few days, eat in front of him too, at least until he gives you those puppy eyes, and you’ll fold just like origami paper. You’ll still save him the snack you know he likes even if you allow Jeremiah first pick of the rest. And you’d never be interested in the new recruit or anyone else.
Xavier can be distant and formal. For others, his hyper-independence was evident. Taking on missions alone and avoiding group settings is just the way Xavier’s personality works. He’s reliable and gets along with everyone at a surface level and he’s known to go out of his way to help others without seeking validation for it so it never ruffled any feathers when he goes off on his own or rejects an invitation to drink with the others after work.
They didn’t see. They didn’t see how easy it was to care about him. They appreciate him but they weren’t aware of how intensely and passionately he could feel when he unfurls that independent nature. How he always quietly adjusts his dominant foot to point your direction whenever a Wanderer appears. How his voice drops and his touch becomes the smallest bit more graceful and careful when he sees you upset. How sweetly he looks when he sleeps.
It makes your resolve crumble and your heart squeeze, something only he can do without even being awake to know it.
“You’re lucky I like you,” you mumble to him.
As you lean closer, you easily ignore the stirring in your gut that tells you to stop.
The bandage is a little rough against your lips as you seize the chance to kiss him. It’s a short and small thing, much more delicate than your prodding from earlier because you want to indulge the romantic in you. You want him to somehow sense the feelings cultivated in your heart over the past few months though impossible when he’s asleep.
You don’t let it last long. Instead, the desperate urge to feel his heat against you spurs you to rest your forehead against his cheek. It’s warm and soft, and the faint scent of pine trees of the no-hunt zone fills your nose. You savor being this close to him, allowing yourself to indulge in it until the heat on your skin starts to match his, and you finally let him have peace for the night.
With no need to remain in his room, you stand and pivot towards the door, wondering how you’ll manage to grasp any form of sleep tonight. However, you don’t make it two steps before there’s a tug at your arm.
You yelp as you’re pulled towards the bed while the shock has you stumbling forward into it. The hand leaving your arm in favor of grasping around your wrist stops you from falling completely but your knees have already buckled. You’re left nearly a head under him when he finally swings his legs over the side of the bed and shifts into a full sitting position. This position is oddly familiar. When you uncertainly force your eyes up to meet his face, this vulnerable angle becomes unmistakable.
His voice is husked and rasped from sleep, sending a chill up your spine when paired with the swirling shadows darkening his blue eyes under his hooded lids and dark lashes. That’s the look of a predator, of the association’s strongest hunter, and you face the inkling realization that you’re the prey.
Nervously, you begin to divert your eyes. He takes a page out of your own playbook and reaches under your chin to guide your sight back to him as you fight not to whimper at the pressure of his thumb pushing down as if he wants to part your lips. It isn’t until now that you notice how close you are to his lap and how another few inches would drop you to your knees.
“Why worry about Wanderers following me home when you’re so much scarier.”
“What do you mean?”
Memory has never been your friend. This though is the first time you’ve forgotten how to breathe when his fingers completely close around your wrist. His hold is firm, preventing you from wringing your way out of his grasp, but it doesn’t hurt.
He might as well take that grasp and use it to squeeze your heart instead when he brings your hand to his face. You’re unsure what he’s planning; the awkwardness of the situation makes your fingers straighten and twitch away as he holds your hand closer to his face. Sensing your trepidation, he closes the last of the distance instead by tilting his head into your hand with the same affection as always as he lets your fingertip brush against the silly little bunny bandage.
The familiarity of the motion puts your heart a little more at ease but not enough to bring your breathing back to you as he mumbles, “I don’t remember giving you permission to kiss me.”
Your lips part with a silent puff while your brows push forward, highlighting the confusion in your mind onto your face. He takes advantage of the moment to nuzzle your hand. It’s a notion you can’t appreciate as his words finally sink into your mind and reform into a horrifying conclusion.
“…You were awake the whole time.”
He chuckles so easily at the dry peep that echoes from you, the rivet of that warm sound collects in your palm and makes your face scalding hot. You didn’t face a burning heat like this even when fighting one of those flame dragons. All the while, Xavier was laughing at you…
“Not the whole time.”
With your head catching up, you find enough of yourself again to actually glare at him and smack his shoulder. “That’s not the point!”
With another display of strength, he locks your other wrist, pulls you up, and then snatches you into him. Luckily, you’re able to flatten your palms against his chest to brace yourself. His heart as well as his face is unnervingly calm compared to your own organ that’s currently orchestrating its escape from your chest, battering your ribcage even harder as you unconsciously stretch your fingers over his naked skin.
You don’t like this. This bullying, which you only describe as such because you can’t think of a word more fitting for the way he’s treating you, is too one-sided.
“It was on the cheek,” you argue with a steeled voice. You fake the confidence to stare him back down, choosing to trade your determination to confess to him tonight in exchange for preserving your pride. “It was friendly.”
To your satisfaction, your declaration of war makes him the one to pause this time. His eyes widen and there’s a quiver in those waves of blue that he hides by glancing down and away.
“…Is that what it was?”
You nod. “I wasn’t…going to do anything else.”
Xavier smiles, shaking his head, and there’s a new determination in his eyes that causes your teeth to clench down on the inside of your cheek as he leans closer.
“In that case, is it okay to return the favor?”
He doesn’t give you the time to answer. He’s already closing the distance, his dark lashes already fluttering, and his lips already puckering to kiss you as you’re squeezed flushed against him, only your palms stopping your chest from colliding with his.
“Wait!”
Hearing your disapproval, he pauses, but that cheeky grin still doesn’t dissipate.
“What's wrong?” he asks with a sigh. You’re sure it’s not a true question. “Am I not allowed to give you a friendly kiss as well.”
The implications make your stomach twist while your thighs squeeze together pathetically with the sudden throbbing of arousal that spikes through you as you tumble further and further into this rabbit’s trap.
“I—that’s!”
“So, you were misbehaving,” he concludes from your sheepishness. “I guess that means I need to punish you instead.” He breaks his hold around one of your wrists to ghost his fingertips along your cheek and down your neck until all you can do in response is breathe out a moan, much to his surprise given by the rise of his eyebrows and the slight dust of pink on his bewildered face. “…I didn’t think you were that sensitive there.”
Your mind swims with the traitorous thought of wanting to show him where you’re more sensitive dancing in your mind before you can sweep it away. When his fingers dance along your neck again, you whimper and hold in another moan.
“Don’t hold back on my account. You know my most sensitive spot after all, as hunting partners, it only makes sense for me to know yours, right?”
You can hardly think of a response to that. It’s true. You know his biggest weaknesses and as you come to terms with the situation you run your thumb over the plump inside of your thigh hesitantly. It takes you almost an entire minute to decide on what you want to say, and you don’t notice his hold on your wrist weakening.
“My weakness—”
Suddenly, your arm drops back to your side.
“I’m kidding,” Xavier states; the small smile he normally wears comes back to his face as you look up at him with wide eyes. “I was only curious as to what your reaction would be.”
The tension in the air wanes and buries itself in your heart. The embarrassment clings to every cell living in you, unshakeable as you try to keep a brave face. “You’re cruel.”
“Am I? You were the one touching me, all the while promising to run off with some rookie,” he reminds you.
“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t—you’re so frustrating,” you scream at him, and this is the first time he appears to take you seriously all night.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, with less teasing and more concern. He wraps an arm around your waist. His legs slot between yours, leaving your knees to collide with the plush of the bed as he hugs you tighter and tighter until you’re nearly seated in his lap. “Don’t be mad. I only thought—”
“Xavier?”
“Did you really mean it then?” he redirects. He snakes his other arm around your waist, this time when he holds you it feels…weak, and his pursed lips and narrowed eyes hold back a troubled emotion. “That it was in a friendly way?”
Your breath hitches at the swirl of his thumbs nervously circling the small of your waist. Nervously, he waits for an answer you long lost in the rapids of the constantly changing tides of the last few minutes.
“If you meant it…if you truly wanted to kiss me,” he pauses, trying to find his voice. The one to tell you that you’re all he thinks about. “Then you should have woken me up.” His face holds a serene glow that completely enraptures you as he looks up at you. “I wouldn’t have rejected you,” he swore.
He loved you so much it ached. Moving in together should have been enough to prove it. He guesses not; because when he thinks you want him back, you’re so hesitant to accept. Even now, you’re unable to respond.
This cycle has become painful, even for someone as patient as himself, the wait when you’re this close to him is agonizing. So, he decides now to be the one to end this circle the two of you found yourself in with one decisive motion.
He tests the waters, not knowing if he’ll swim or drown, but he has confidence in his ability to read your personality and actions as he cups the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss.
Your mind empties immediately, your body on autopilot when it registers the warm, silky skin of his lips on yours. Closing your eyes, you willingly tumble and fall into the taste of him, chasing after it when he breaks away.
“There. We’re even,” he says, but to you, that’s far from the truth. You’re far from even after all the heartache and sleepless nights he’s been putting you through, after all the push and pull that left you aching and wanting both in your heart and between your thighs.
The self-satisfied smile on his face quickly fades as you grope his shoulders, digging your nails in like you’re afraid he’ll escape. Your knees press to the top of the bed as you plant yourself more onto his lap. He braces his hands on your hips to catch you as you run your hand into his hair and crane his head back, so he has to look you in the eye.
His ears pinken at your sudden brazenness, but it doesn’t reflect in his voice as he smiles at you. “Are you trying to get more?”
“Am I being too greedy?” you ask. He chuckles at the jut of your lips and the pleading eyes before you press another demanding kiss to the corner of his lips.
Xavier moans from his throat as he latches onto your jaw to redirect your kisses to his lips. Kissing him is nearly maddening, the twitch of his muscular thighs under your ass making your mind hazy. With one hard squeeze at your hips, he catches up to the zealousness of your kisses.
His tongue pokes and prods at your mouth. However, he doesn’t need much permission to keep going as you open your mouth wider. His mind skips and lags at just how quickly your mouth overtakes the slick appendage. It leaves him more than a little out of breath and flustered with the rate your mouths keep parting and meeting, tongues desperately searching and licking the inside your mouths as if this is the first meal you’ve had in weeks.
You’re hungry to memorize each other despite having all the time in the world now to do just that. When the two of you finally indulged enough and earned enough satisfaction, you’re able to calm down and readjust the pace.
“I think we’re both greedy,” he jokes about the both of you before sliding his tongue back into your mouth. This time he’s slower as he presses down on your tongue, causing your teeth to lightly graze over the top of his.
There are too many sensations going on for you to keep up. The way your breasts hug his hard chest has you feeling sensitive while the heat seeping from his tongue stroking in your mouth has your stomach bundled in tight knots that won’t know release until he’s inside of you.
Dreams were nothing compared to this. Nights filled with nothing but inappropriate thoughts of him turn into nightmares at the slim chance of having to face them again should this go wrong.
Impatiently, his fingers curve into the hump of your ass to anchor you and encourage you to grind on his lap, or rather grind against the hard tent brazenly making its presence known with each hurried roll of your hips.
You whine from the separation of your sexes when he begins to lift you up, but your complaints quickly die in your throat. They’re replaced by a squeal as he flips you and your back bounces on the mattress.
Xavier climbs over you, his face flushed, breath ragged, and overall, he’s just absolutely beautiful to you. Reaching up, you cup his cheek and play with the ends of his hair, unable to recall the last time you’ve felt this high.
“Xavier,” you whisper breathlessly as you swoop his bangs back to see more of his handsome face and save it to memory. “What are we?”
Xavier tilts his head, furrowing his brow at your question, and there’s a second where a ray of doubt breaks through the clouds of lust in his irises. “We’re…whatever you want to be.”
“I want to be with you,” you say. Those words tumble out more effortlessly than you ever thought.
Xavier overlaps your hand with his, holding on tight as if to prove a point. “You are with me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t,” he corrects. Then, he dazzles you as he always does, “I want you to tell me so there’s no mistake, and you can’t take it back later.”
You inwardly become embarrassed when it crosses your mind that this is the first time you’ve ever confessed to him without multiple drinks in your system. It’s too late to turn back now that you’ve crossed the Milky Way and landed on the other side.
But why would you when you’re so close?
“I want to be with you always. Whenever and wherever you are. Whether that’s having fun together or fighting. I-I love you, and—”
“And I love you,” he answers. You’re not sure if you’re jealous or relieved that he can say those three words without hesitation.
“I don’t want anything to be between us. I don’t want any more secrets or hidden things. I’m tired of this. I just want to be real, more than partners or roommates or whatever other title that isn’t boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Okay,” Xavier agrees as easily as he agreed to be roommates with you in the first place.
“Okay?”
“I want that too,” he agrees as he repositions himself on top of you and his lips curve into a small smirk, “girlfriend.”
You’re accustomed to the finicky organ known as your heart tightening with pain when you’re overwhelmed; this time when it skips a beat, it’s welcomed. Smiling, you gaze up at him as he releases a slow, strained breath. It’s validating to know he’s been just as nervous as you.
Everything suddenly becomes full force again when his knees move to either side of your legs while he pins your hands above your head in one tight fist. His teeth nip at your earlobe, and his free hand gropes at your breast, fingers outstretching to fully take it in his grasp. Wet kisses burn on your throat, each one firing off a rapid signal to arch your back.
“Slow down,” you whine before cutting it off with a moan as he hits a particular delicate spot. The discovery spurs him on, like a pet with a new toy, and he bites your nape once again causing your hips to jerk. With a burning desire building in your stomach at every touch, you pitifully hug your thighs together to try to ease it. “I didn’t get a chance to absorb all that,” you tell him, mostly to get some time to catch up. It backfires wonderfully as he grips onto the bottom of your tank top.
“I have a better way to help you understand.”
The sheets shift with his movement, your lower half dipping towards him as if he holds his own gravitational field. He settles between your legs and strokes against you with one slow, languid rock. It instantly makes you throb. It’s painful how hard you clench over absolutely nothing, panties gathering the lust that’s dripping from you.
You simultaneously hate and love him for causing this need that’s bubbling inside you.
Large hands press your shirt further up your torso. “Arms up,” he demands softly, which you have no problem obeying, and he quickly lifts your shirt over your head.
He lowers his hands to hold at your waist, and they fall still on you as he takes in your naked skin. You’re not privy to his thoughts. The silence of the room feels defean-ing now that your needy gasps of air aren’t filling it.
He pauses, eyes taking you in as you raise your eyebrows at his hesitancy. Xavier smiles, mumbling out, “Just thinking where to start.”
Xavier smiles at you so tenderly. Everything about him is incredibly soft on first appearance. He has big blue puppy eyes, he prefers white, cozy clothes, and his voice is just as gentle as his appearance. Everything about him is soft except for his hands.
Those are hardy and battle-honed, worn with calluses built up with every swing of the sword he’s taken since he was a child, enough of them to slay thousands of Wanderers over the years.
They drag.
Oh, they drag so dangerously slow over your skin, dipping into the pudge of your stomach and highlighting a small circle in the warm, buzzing glow of his Evol. The rays shine gold over your flesh, shimmering brightly in the dark of the room.
“Here,” he states before hunting down another spot on your torso. A beauty mark, like a beacon, earns the sharp eyes of a hunter. He zones in on the vulnerable location, creating a golden target. “Maybe here.”
You squirm with every mapped spot he creates. “Xavier.”
The residue of his power leaves your skin humming; you’re overly aware of each spot he highlights with his power. You like to think your senses would still be heightened regardless of this little game. After all, you’ve been wanting him to touch you forever.
Every night next to him felt like torture, being unable to touch him more than a hug when all you could feel on your back was his hard chest, his arm tight around your waist, and the outline of his cock against your ass as he sighed in your ear.
It runs through your head that he must have put more thought into touching you than you assumed as he continues to stripe lines over the top of your thighs right under your night shorts, making your breath heavy in your throat. You’re no longer sure if he’s marking you to tease you, to track what parts of your body he’s claimed for himself, or to simply make you laugh from the humming of his Evol tickling you like fuzzy static on an old tv screen. Even as he smiles at your shallow giggles, there’s no denying the aura of possession radiating from him that makes you antsy when he finally presses his finger to your sternum.
“Let’s start here,” he says followed by a soft hum as he tattoos a line straight between your breasts, leaving you highlighted in slowly fading graffiti.
“About time you decided,” you say with an playfully exaggerated roll of your eyes. He cocks his head at you with a sly smile.
“I can’t help if I want to touch all of you,” he murmurs. Any response you had ready dies when he licks the encircled zone of your shoulder then swiftly to the notch of your throat, drawing a moan out of you that you didn’t think you were capable of until you met him.
Tilting your head, you allow him more room to work as he kisses your chest. His warm tongue slips through the line he marked, his nose dragging against you as he litters your engorged skin with kisses.
“More,” you beg. Who was he to keep you waiting any longer?
He slips a fingerpad over the tip of your nipple, gently pressing down and then rolling it. It does nothing to satiate you. Satisfaction keeps escaping your grasp, the goalpost of what’s enough moving further out of reach with every pinch and pull of your pebbling nipples. Chasing it makes you brash, and you give a hard push to the back of his head.
Just as you want, he spoils you. He bites and nips the supple skin, drawing out soft pleas from your angelic lips. When he finally graces you with the slick, velvety lap of his tongue on your pert nipple, you mewl and arch. His lips are a little rough after being out all night, his hunger for you more palpable than ever as he gropes harder and sucks at your wet skin.
Your aching pussy throbs with every brush of his clothed cock. Your patience drains more and more as you crave something to fill you. It isn’t until he switches sides and gently nips and suckles around your other teat that you realize he’s been fingerprinting you with his Evol, the polka dots slowly fade away each time he adjusts his hand to knead your breast.
“You’re still being cruel,” you manage between moans.
“I think I’m being very fair,” he reasons, recapturing your lips to silence your complaints, and it works as your mind keeps repeating when his tongue makes a temporary reservation back in the confines of your mouth.
When he parts with you again, he cements it with a soft kiss then another. He keeps peppering them on you so fast that you almost miss the way his tongue darts over your bottom lip before his teeth bite down.
Xavier sighs between his kisses, each one adding more pressure, turning from loving, adoration-filled into needy, heavy smooches.
“Wanted.”
Another kiss that leaves you whimpering.
“To.”
He fondles your chest again, alternating between rolling and pinching your sensitive, puffed nipple then grasping your bare tits in his hands, molding and kneading them.
“With you.”
With your thighs closing at his waist, you curve your back and meet the sloppy buck of his hips. There’s a rush of excitement leaking from you when his kisses trail back over your breasts, hitting the tiny ring of bite marks he seared on you before tracing across the targets of light decorating your belly.
“So bad.”
Skin on fire, legs spread wide to accommodate his chest as he sinks lower to press wet kisses to your stomach, you call out to him. “Xavier, baby,” you whisper and brush his hair to get his attention. And does he give it to you when his eyes flick up to look at you from under the grey tuffs of his hair.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight.
You bring your finger to your lips, not only to pry them open so you can speak but also because you need to bite on it. Otherwise, the surge of lust in you at the sight of his head so close to your cunt and the back of your thighs resting on his broad shoulders would cause you to cum right there.
“My most sensitive spot…is my legs…”
It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, and he quirks his eyebrows up at you with false concern. He lowers his head to kiss your stomach again, this time noticeably closer to your mound. “Are you sure you want to tell me that in this situation? It isn’t wise for the prey to put themselves at a disadvantage.”
“I said no secrets,” you remind him, curling a finger to beckon him back up. Inwardly, you curse that he decides to bring your legs with him by keeping them propped up on his shoulders. Somehow, you manage to ignore his obvious teasing and poke at the cutesy adhesive still stuck on his face. “If you were listening, you should know you’re still in trouble for sneaking off so much without telling me.”
“It wasn’t on purpose,” he tells you, a layer of remorse riding his explanation. “I wasn’t expecting to go anywhere.”
Amused, you shake your head at how boyish he sounds as he defends himself while he pulls off that wide and pleading look to bolster his cause. Even with your amusement, you’re not willing to let him off just yet. Sternly, you tap his cheek again.
“That’s not going to work this time.”
Pouting, Xavier holds onto your hand, stopping your playful jabs. “Please give me a chance to lighten my sentence, Miss Hunter, it was unintentional,” he negotiates with a kiss on your palm. The sincerity in his request eases your heart enough to allow him a little wiggle room, or perhaps it’s the slick trailing more between your folds.
“You only got until morning to make a case for yourself.”
“I’ll make you forget by then.” He snatches up your ankle towards his face, a much more pleasant position than your last, as your muscles were starting to ache from having your knees pushed to your face.
He caresses your ankle, pressing an airy kiss. The little bump of his nose against the ball of your ankle tickles, making a giggle cascade from your lips as you slide lower with the pull of your leg.
“Silly,” he mumbles before shuffling off your shorts. Your underwear comes off with more of a fight, the stickiness soaked into it causing the dainty fabric to cling lewdly to your skin and outline to the shape of your cunt.
You don’t often hear Xavier curse but that’s what happens along with his tongue rolling over his upper lip when he catches the image. He reaches out and his fingers twitch, threatening to curve against the spreading stain in your panties but he resists and hooks his fingers into the waistband. He takes his sweet time watching the doused material peeling from you with thin strands of cum sticking to it.
It takes him more effort than he’d like to admit to resist diving straight in. Instead, he keeps it slow, sensual, as much for his sake as yours as he skims his lips up your calf.
He does the same with your center, carefully pressing two fingers against you as he holds your leg up on his shoulder. His mouth stays on your inner thigh, but his eyes are entirely locked on his fingers and the way they effortlessly collect your cum and slip between your lips with barely a push. You can feel his breath shudder out against you before he forces it down with a bite of your thigh but that does nothing to hide the way his entire body tenses when his fingers slip from your clit all the way to your clenching hole.
It does nothing good for your ego or your sanity to think how normally calm and collected Xavier is losing his composure just by touching you. How he’s so obviously turned on when you haven’t nearly returned as much as he’s been giving you.
He presses his hands at the crook of your thighs, pushing your legs further apart, and quenches himself between your legs. His name leaves you in one low drawn-out sigh. Sure, you were baiting him when you told him your weakness, but you weren’t expecting him to abuse the knowledge so readily.
He held your legs blood cuttingly tight to keep you from squirming away from his wriggling tongue, and by the moan that reverberates from his chest and the strong jerk against the mattress when your juices hit his tongue, you think he would only be satisfied if you crushed his head between your straining thighs. When he suckles your clit; when his voice, muffled, hits your pussy; when his biceps tighten around your legs as if encouraging you to do so, and when his eyes meet yours with a silent demand, you know that’s exactly what he wants.
At the plunging of his fingers in you, you break down, catch his head in a vice-like grip, and push him into you. Your heart flutters and the remaining butterflies in your stomach migrate away at the growl he lets out. Your walls happily clench around those thick fingers, your dripping hole making it easy and smooth work to pump in and out of you. You’re not sure when he decides he would rather feel your muscle tightening around his tongue instead, but you can only respond with the tilt of your head back into the sheets and the stroke of your heel on his bare back when it happens.
The only thing better is his palm grinding down on your clit, alternating between slow rotations and rough sporadic grinding that has your toes curling and your eyes glossing with the buildup of tears.
“You’re too loud,” he comments yet he doesn’t stop, in fact, he presses down harder, making you whine. “You’re going to wake the neighbors.”
“Since when have you cared what the neighbors think?” you barely manage to whimper out.
“I’m not worried about them. I just don’t want anyone else to hear what only I should,” he remarks, lapping up the juices spilling down your legs.
His confession is a surprise to you. You never took him to be so possessive. But if that possessiveness is what kept his tongue swirling on your swollen clit and an intense moan escaping your lips then you didn’t mind.
However…
His fingers weren’t enough anymore.
Choosing to surprise him, you decide to turn the tables on him. You jerk your legs, catching him off guard but not enough to tip him over. He looks at you with concern. It doesn’t stop you from trying again with extra force this time until you can weaken his grasp and force him down on his back.
Having the world’s strongest hunter under you was only something you could dream of—first as a rival and now as a lover. The adrenaline has you tunnel-visioned as you straddle his stomach, your soaked cunt making a waterboard out of his abs, which Xavier has also picked up on if the dusky pink on his cheeks is anything to go by.
You grab his hands, gripping tight to regain his attention. Xavier looks taken back especially when your fingers interlock his and pin them back. Whether he’s shocked or curious you don’t know, and you also don’t ask to borrow his power.
“You’ve been having too much fun,” you tell him as you check to make sure your finger is sufficiently coated with light. “For my turn, I’ll attack here and here,” you whisper, marking off his chest and drawing a line across his neck.
There’s a hint of worry finally when he sees you’re aiming for his weak spot. “If you’re trying to teach me the best spot to kill Wanderers, I already know.”
“More like the best spots to defeat a Xavier,” you remark, flattening your palm over his heart, finding your own thumping when you verify that you finally managed to raise his heart rate to the levels of a normal human.
“You’re pretty forward today.” Xavier reaches out to hold your hips and cocks his head at you with an inquisitive glance. “Are you always this easy to excite or is it because of me?”
You feel your face heat at his question. As if he didn’t already know the answer. No one else could make you like this. Needy. Shy. Aroused. Flustered. Confused. Infatuated and in love more than you’ve ever been.
Your eyes soften. “And if I said it was you?”
“Then, you can use me all you want,” he confesses and gently coaxes you back to sit on his hard cock. You smoothly slide your hands to his shoulders, rotating loving strokes into his fair skin before you stop to free his cock from his pants.
It springs readily into your palm, so responsive. You reward him by letting him have a little taste of you. He tries to hide the hitch of his breath as if he could hide any reaction from you right now. It’s so hard to get him to react to anything, and your brain won’t let you miss a single moment as you sit back onto his lap and grind.
His cock slides between your lips, so big that you can feel it stroking you fully, his swollen, dribbling head making you whimper whenever it bumps your clit.
“You, you’re so—” he begins, his eyes flitting from the gentle shake of your tits to his cock glistening between your folds, but he loses his voice to a low whimper when you increase your pace. It’s not on purpose but you can’t help yourself; you’re aching for him just as much as he is for you. “Hah, please...”
His cock is leaking onto him with each sleek thrust, a little pool of precum glistening on his belly as your hips buck. It makes your stomach twist and your insides twitch to see him so excited for you.
“Not yet,” you tell him, brushing fingers across the length of his throat. His mouth parts with a croak that plasters a crooked smile on your face.
His eyebrows knit, and he frowns as you decide to tease him a little by slowing your strokes while your nails continue to follow the thick vein protruding from his neck as he desperately holds down his whines.
“And you call me the cruel one.”
He was gorgeous under you. Beautifully flushed and sheened with sweat. His lips were so close to quivering each time his swollen head was swallowed back under your heat. It’s strange how his pitiful expression actually excites you, leaving you wetter and funneling this cycle of him repeatedly scrunching his face before relaxing it with a moan.
“Please,” he asks again, this time more politely, pleadingly, and downright cutely. He knows what he’s doing because you decide to take pity on him when he gazes at you. “Please let me have you?”
It takes only a second for you to reposition yourself and hover over him. There’s a split hesitation when it registers that you’re actually going to have sex with him and how large he actually is with his cock standing tall and the tip kissing at your entrance. You press downward anyway.
The stretch is both painful and pleasurable, straining your nerves as you lower. The wince on your face is accompanied by a hiss on your lips. However, Xavier is there again to catch you.
“Let’s take our time,” he instructs.
You nod, slowly thrusting halfway onto him. Each rise and fall of your hips coating him with your cream little by little makes it a bit easier to sheath him each bounce.
“Good girl,” he whispers soothingly. Face constricting, he bites down on his lip to hold in a weak groan. It’s not your fault that the praise made your walls flutter and tighten.
When you finally suck him in completely, your eyes roll.
“There you go,” he continues. He slides his hand into one of yours, encouraging you to hold onto it as you slowly and pointedly follow the curve of his cock, “Just like that,” he rasps out. As you take him in fully, your pussy reaching his lap and pushing against his balls, you find it hard to concentrate on the exact words leaving him.
You take a minute to sit with him fully sheathed inside of you, allowing your stretched core to get more accustomed to his cock and also for the high of joining with him to cool off. Otherwise, you’d lose control.
You feel so full. It’s a wonderful sensation, and the pleasure increases tenfold when you lift your hips then have him stretch you again.
Rubbing your fingertips into the back of his palm, you lift and slam back onto him again, causing a ragged groan from you both that ricochets off the walls of the room. It isn’t until now that you recognize how bad you’ve been needing this.
Needed him.
You’re still nowhere near understanding why this need is inside of you. Anyone can give you pleasure, and he’s not the first, but nothing quite matched the warmth overtaking you when his cock pistons and rubs against your nerves as you ride him.
The thought that Xavier was right about fate being written in the stars barely breaks through the thick fog of arousal clouding your brain. The heat spurs you to bounce harder to meet his jerking thrusts.
He sighs under you; the pressure on his lower half increases while your eyesight blurs and your head angles back. You’ll both be each other’s undoing at this rate, he thinks, as he watches the beads of sweat accumulating in little shiny droplets on your forehead and on your bouncing chest in a light sheen.
Chasing that desire to see you undone, he pulls you to a halt, burying himself deep inside of you, before pressing his hand to your mound, brushing past the patch of damp hair to zone in on your sticky, swollen clit.
The instant whine of his name makes him dizzy. Centuries have gone by, and he’s never heard you say his name with such wanton desperation nor seen you grind onto him, stirring his cock in you as if your sanity depended on it.
His certainly depended on you. Always has especially in the many decades he thought he’d never see you again. That need is even clearer from how sensitive yet eager his cock is to you squeezing around it as you shudder on top of him while keeping an unbearably tight hold on his hand. Your movements come to a near stop except for the occasional rut to prolong the rush of your orgasm.
The sight of you breaking down on top of him threatens to make his eyes roll back as he squeezes onto your legs for grounding. Your strangled gasp followed by your muscles relaxing tells him that you’re coming down.
“I take it you’ve finished,” Xavier says with a smirk, and you only have half the mind to swat at his chest like a lazy cat. Your legs burn, your chest unable to fill with enough oxygen to catch your breath. You think you’ll skip the gym tomorrow but Xavier has other plans.
“I’m not finished,” he reminds you.
You look down at Xavier; you’d been so busy finding your own pleasure, you didn’t realize he hadn’t cum yet. You feel a lingering guilt but he swiftly takes the situation into his own hands.
You’re still too sensitive to fight back as he slides his cock out of you with a wet pop. It takes two swift movements for him to lift you off of him and roll you onto your stomach.
Your chest feels restricted, tight to the mattress as he presses on top of you, his grey-brown hair rubbing your shoulder as he cuddles your back. It’s an affectionate notion, distracting from the pressure in your lower half as he slides off the last of his clothes and thrusts his cock back inside of you.
You thought you were filled to the brim the first time, yet this angle was different. It felt much tighter, and the slightest shift of his hips had you muffling moans into your arms.
“I want to hear you,” he sweetly requests, yanking on your hips to raise your ass higher and pull you further away from the muffling effects of the bed. Your fracturing mewls mix into his grunts, both sounds washing out the sloppy, wet paps of his cock pounding into you.
His hand swoops down your bending back in one long soothing stroke before his head collapses onto you. His grunts are loud, tumbling right into your ear along with the slapping sound of his hips meeting your ass. Your legs feel like jelly, and the rest of your body becomes weightless as your mind only focuses on his cock recklessly burning its way through you.
Xavier’s breath rolls against your back along with his forehead as he buries you under his weight; his grip on your thighs tightens to an unbearable degree, leaving you to wonder if you’ll have marks in the morning.
You don’t really care if he does when he moans your name and heat fills you, spreading with each sporadic thrust until he finally bottoms out inside you one last time and holds until he completely empties.
Taking his time to enjoy the sensation, he waits before pulling out of you, making you whimper with the sudden void. Shakily, you collapse back into the sheets and flip onto your back with a sigh. His eyes are still half-lidded as he watches you; he chews briefly on his bottom lip, reminding you of the look in his eyes earlier.
“Xavier,” you question but he silences you with a kiss, which you tiredly return. His fingertips slide down from your knee to your thigh, and he teases your opening, the mixture of cum making it easy for him to stroke your still spasming pussy.
Xavier sighs against your lips before moving his kisses to the swoop of your neck. “You’re so beautiful and all mine.”
Your mouth parts with a dry moan as he slides thick fingers over your clit. It starts to ache from his touch but it’s hard to deny him, even as he tortures you with his methodic and precise rotations over the bead.
His name is on your mouth, each syllable heavy on your tongue. You leave garbled gasps in his mouth as he makes out with you while your hand draws down his chest, attempting to make a mental map of every twitching muscle and healed wound on the way down.
Your heart jumps with the twitch of his cock when you wrap your hand around it. There’s going to be no trouble getting him to rebound, you think. He’s already thickening again with the warm strokes of your hand and tracing of your fingers over the slowly beating vein lining the underside of his shaft.
Xavier doesn’t even let you finish exciting him before he rolls back on top of you and settles his head between your breasts. Between all the cum in between your legs and his half-hard cock, it isn’t as mind-numbing to have him inside you. What is different is to feel him twitching and growing inside you with his renewed thrusts.
You’re hiccupping by the time he pushes your legs back and starts to hit deep inside of you, leaving the corner of your eyes tearing. You’re overwhelmed with everything. The uncharacteristic amount of energy he possesses as his hips snap into you. How each powerful rock leaves tingles aftershock-ing inside you, ruining your chances to recover before he does it again. The heavy scent of sex mixed with pine overwhelms your nose. His sweaty chest blocks out any light in the room, sealing any notion that you can be distracted by anything other than him as he pushes up your knee towards your chest.
You’re quickly working up to your second orgasm; the painful cramping in your foot tells you it’ll be bigger than the last. You’re right. When you come undone again, it’s with a shrill sob. You’re too out of it to even register when he finishes until he starts kissing your neck again.
He’s still inside you, you realize once your mind finally lands back on earth. His cock is resting in the heat inside you, waiting for him to work the two of you back up again. You know that’s the goal when his thumb gently brushes over one of your nipples again. Your sore insides constrict and strain. You don’t think you could survive a third round.
“Xavier, please, no more.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice dry and husky in your ear as he kisses under it.
“Too much,” you tell him, pushing on his chest to make some space between the two of you.
“I didn’t catch that,” he coos defiantly. When he notices that you’re being serious, he obediently pulls out of you. His kisses become smoother as he pecks your lips. “What’s wrong? Is it aching?”
You nod then puff your cheeks in frustration when you see the amusement on his face.
“It’s not funny!” you say, holding onto that angry, childish pout until his smile turns sympathetic.
“You’re right,” he agrees and shifts off you. Quickly, he locates his briefs on the corner of the bed. He steps out of bed and pulls them on. To your surprise, he leaves you, alone and cold.
“Where are you going?”
Xavier disappears without answering you and only the sound of running water gives you any sort of hint of where he might’ve gone. When he returns, it’s with a rag dangled in his hand.
“A boyfriend should help clean his girlfriend up after times like this,” he explains and leans over you; he presses the wet cloth between your legs; the rag is incredibly soothing on your bloated skin. It’s a blessing to your sore muscles as he starts to massage and clean you. “It feels better already, doesn’t it?”
“I guess,” you answer pitifully, grumbling a bit because the look on his face still seems like he’s teasing about your neediness.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s my fault you’re a little sore.” He’s definitely taunting you, but you don’t have the energy to fight about it. “All done,” he remarks, tossing the rag to a forgotten section of the dresser. He carefully climbs back on top of you, waiting for the moment your hand finds his bicep to guide him down next to you.
It isn’t the first time he’s been this affectionate, and it won’t be the last time. However, this time feels more special than any time you’ve slept together, and not just because you can feel the stickiness of his sex-clad skin against your naked body. Well, that’s part of the reason.
“Something on your mind?”
“Nothing. I’m really happy,” you explain.
“If it really makes you that happy, maybe we should do it more often,” he offers, and you pinch his unwounded cheek to punish him. Jumping back, he knocks your hand away and caresses his wounded face. “I’ll need another bandage if you keep doing that,” he complains weakly.
“You only have yourself to blame!”
Xavier sighs. “You’re always right,” he concedes, more so that he can cuddle you without fighting rather than actually agreeing with you, you fear.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Are you really doubting your boyfriend?” he asks. Heartbeat skipped, you clamp your mouth shut as he unfolds the blankets over the two of you.
It’s finally settling back into your mind that the two of you are a couple now. “I’m still…not used to it yet with you being that.”
“You will get used to it the longer we’re together. The same as I will.” Xavier sighs, happily so. “Although, we might run into the same problem again.”
You blink at him. “Why?”
Thoughtful, Xavier hums then explains, “First comes love then comes marriage as they say.”
He catches you off-guard once more. As always, Xavier is forever forging on ahead with little regard for convention. “Aren’t you thinking too far ahead?”
“Maybe,” he agrees but there’s no drop in his confidence as he smiles at you and draws his hand over your hairline. “But I loved you since we met.”
“Xavier, please,” you beg, finding your favorite place to hide your flustered face in the crook of his elbow.
He can’t help but laugh at you as he curls his arm around you. “Especially that,” he confesses and places one more kiss on the top of your head before inviting you to go to sleep.
You do, falling asleep against his chest less than thirty minutes later. For him, sleep is elusive for once as he mulls over the day’s events.
The word girlfriend on his tongue is sweet. The idea itself burns wonderfully in his chest, but it isn’t enough. He knows he still needs to wait a bit longer, take his time, your bashful response to his prodding was enough to tell him that it isn’t time yet. It’s hard not to rush when this is the closest he’s ever been to the one thing he truly wants.
Xavier guesses he’ll still have to rely on his dreams for a little while longer. It’s okay, he tells himself, it’ll work out this time. He’ll find a place to settle with you and have a quiet life, a place where he can see stars.
And this lifetime, when he asks you to marry him, he hopes you’ll say yes.
#xavier x reader#xavier smut#love and deepspace x reader#lnd smut#xavier love and deepspace#lads x reader#lads smut#notsfw#adelssmut
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How much it hurt standing right there, on the balcony of his two-story house, the thought of him getting married to another woman tomorrow was making your heart bleed. You leaned against the railing with a frown on your face, a glass of champagne in your hand and your eyes throwing daggers at the moon. Simon decided to invite all Task Force 141 for a drink the night before the big day, you could hear them all laughing and cheering downstairs in the living room, but you couldn’t even put a small smile on your lips.
You loved him and he loved you back, you thought things could still work between the two of you, he thought differently. He didn’t know how to show his love, his care, it hurt you and he knew it perfectly, that’s why he decided to break things off with you. And now? After one year you still haven’t moved on and now he was going to marry another woman. You heard someone clear his voice and immediately turned around, Simon was there with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes staring deeply at yours, “shym.. Why are you here alone?” He asked, his tone holding a little sadness.
You let out a scoff before turning your gaze down towards the garden, watching a couple of butterflies landing perfectly on the grass, “because I’d rather not be around for this,” you muttered, the grip on your glass of champagne tightening. He sighed and walked closer to you, joining you in standing against the railing of the balcony and keeping a respectful distance.
“You’re invited, why would you not want to be here?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before letting his gaze drop on you. You rolled your eyes and drank half of the liquid from your glass before replying, “Because I don’t want to watch my ex-boyfriend getting married to another woman.” You murmured with bitterness in your tone.
“Even though we’re still colleagues, I cannot just act like I don’t care Simon..” I took a big chug of my wine before looking down to the grass
His eyes softened as he realized how you truly felt about the situation, he could blame nobody but himself. He was the stupid one. He let out another heavy sigh and leaned against the railing, his shoulders dropping and his body slightly falling forward, as if a weight was on his shoulders, “I know-“ he paused and closed his eyes before continuing, “but the decision has been taken.”
“Why mia… why her Simon what was so special about her that overshadowed me?”
“You want me to tell you why did I choose her?” He asked and you could just hear how tired and frustrated his voice was. You turned your head to look at him and saw how tired he looked, probably tired from hearing the same question for the past few weeks after he told you that he was going to marry her and not you, “yes,” you said in a stern voice, “why her and not me?”
Simon thought for a split second “Mia, she was someone who saved my life, kept me company while I was almost dying on that battlefield..and we just fell for eachother, I couldn’t let that eat me up.”
Your heart dropped as Simon spoke, he fell for her while you were waiting for him here. You felt a pang of jealousy and anger towards her just from hearing the words leaving his mouth. You turned your body fully towards him and narrowed your eyes at his face.
“You fell for her on the battlefield?” You asked in disbelief, “while I was here waiting and worrying for you?”
He slowly nodded his head. “You don’t understand, she kept me company while I was in my lowest point during those days on the battlefield, I-“ he paused and licked his lips as he remembered those days where he didn’t give a damn if he lived or died and he was close to death so many times, yet Mia was there, taking care of him and talking to him as he just laid there, unable to speak or move.
Your eyes widened in shock and slight anger. “You don’t think I understood that?” You exclaimed, “Simon I was there for you too, I was texting you, calling you, worrying about your state every night!” You paused as you felt your eyes starting to heat “I was praying that you’d come back safely, that you’d come back home to me, but-“ you bit the inside of your cheek and took a deep breath as you tried not to yell at him, “but no- Instead you fell in love with another woman.”
He could basically hear your voice breaking as you spoke and his heart ached every second. “I know-“ he tried to speak up, but you didn’t let him, the last drop of rage finally hit you and you snapped at him.
“You know? Then why!? Why didn’t you choose me? Didn’t you love me like you love her!? Didn’t you care for me like you care for her!?” You yelled at him, not being able to hold your emotions back now.
“Of course I did! You know I did!“ He yelled back as he lifted his head and clenched his jaw, his hazel eyes staring deeply into yours. You looked straight into his eyes and felt a tear run down your cheek, “Then why?” You asked in a weak voice, “if you loved me and cared about me why didn’t you choose me instead?”
Another sigh escaped his lips and he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Because it’s different with her!“ He yelled back and he saw how another tear fell from your eye. He was hurting you, but he didn’t know how to explain you why it was different, “I don’t know how to explain” he spoke in a much calmer tone and leaned against the railing again, “she’s just different..”
I nodded “ah yes, because she never made mistakes, she was soft, loving and caring..” I paused “and I always did the opposite. Because I am harsh, an ex maffia member, someone who was obsessed with the thrill of life or death, money..” I looked at him angrily “is that the reason?”
Simon stayed silent for a few moments, thinking about your words. He knew that what you were saying was completely true, you have never been the soft or gentle type of woman, you could never love him as fiercely as Mia did. He lowered his gaze to his feet for a second and bit his lower lip before replying. “It is part of the reason-“
Your heart shattered even more as he confirmed your thoughts. “That’s exactly why isn’t it?“ You said in an almost inaudible whisper. “She loves you like a real lover should do.. while I do the opposite..” you muttered almost to yourself.
You chuckled humorlessly and shook your head, looking up at the night sky to hold your tears from falling down your face. “And the other reasons..?” You whispered, knowing you were stepping into a minefield.
He took a deep breath and let it out before answering your question. “It’s a.. lot of reasons actually.” He said in a much calmer voice than before. He could see and hear the pain in your voice and it made him want to comfort you, but he couldn’t do that. Not anymore. Not after everything.
“Then name them.“ You looked at him again, holding back all the emotions that were swirling in your brain, “tell me all the reasons that made you fall out of love for me and fall in love with her.���
He grunted and closed his eyes for a second before looking into your eyes again “first reason, the one you already guessed, is her nature. She’s sweet, gentle, kind, loving, she takes care of me when I need it.” He said in a low voice, his eyes locked into yours.
“Second,” he paused as he leaned forward and his body was now facing you fully, “she knows when to stop arguing and when to give in, she’s not stubborn like you.” He said without thinking and winced slightly.
He knew that the next reasons were going to rip you apart, that’s why he was taking time to give the perfect answer. “She’s not some mobster and a con.” He said in a cold tone as he looked up at you again.
Your eyes widened in shock when he spoke, you couldn’t believe that part of the reason was the fact that you were once a mafia member. “You-“ you spoke in a weak voice “you’re using my past as a reason?” You let out a humorless chuckle and shake your head.
“Don’t act surprised,” he said in a dry tone “you’re a criminal. A con woman and now an ex mobster.” He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly lifted his chin, staring into your eyes with a blank expression, “what do you expect?”
His cold words and expression felt like daggers into your heart and you closed your eyes momentarily to hold back your tears. “I know what I was, but I never expected you to use it against me.” You said in a quiet voice.
“You know how I was forced in that and the horrific situations I experienced and needed to endure..”
He bit his lip and his body tensed when you spoke about your past, he remembered hearing your stories more than once. He knew it was cruel to use that against you, but he just wanted you to understand, “Yes I do..” he said in a serious and firm voice “and that’s another part of the problem.”
“I don’t want to hear it anymore Simon… I couldn’t get over you because I love you.. or well loved you.” A tear welled up in my eye “you just proved me why I should not even want to speak to you again.”
He clenched his jaw when he saw the tear rolling down your face and closed his eyes tightly. He wanted to reach over and wipe the tear off your face, his hands were itching to feel your skin again, but he knew he couldn’t touch you. This was already too painful for both of you. He looked at you again and saw how much pain you were in. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said in a low tone, “I just wanted you to understand..”
“Understand your bullshit reasons to marry another woman,” you whispered and wiped the tear off your face with the back of your hand. You couldn’t take this anymore, hearing him give you so many reasons why he won’t choose you was slowly killing you.
He flinched slightly when you cursed, he also couldn’t stand seeing you in pain like that. “Those same bullshit reasons are the ones I’m choosing her over YOU!“ He snapped. He was losing control of his emotions hearing you speak and seeing your hurting expression.
“Then why are you still trying to explain them to me?” You spoke, feeling your anger rise as well, getting tired of his attitude. “You already chose her, you’re going to marry her tomorrow, then why are you wasting your time to explain me something you shouldn’t?!”
He let out a scoff and leaned more towards you, “Because I don’t want you to think that I’m only doing this out of spite! I’m in love with her okay?! And I’m going to marry her because I want to, I want to spent the rest of my life with her!” He yelled at you, letting out all his bottled up emotions.
I just stayed silent and looked at the stars in the sky before turning my face back to him “then I wish you well in live Simon.” And I walked downstairs towards the door
His heart sank when you walked away like that, you just stopped fighting, you just gave up. “That’s it?” He said in disbelief before he started walking after you, closing the distance between the two of you in a few strong steps. He grabbed your arm and stopped you from walking.
He turned you around so that you would be facing him and held your arm firmly to prevent you from walking away from him. He stared into your eyes as he spoke, his voice low. “That’s it?” he repeated, “you’re just leaving? Not even going to fight for me?”
You felt like your emotions were about to explode anytime now, he had no right to speak like that. “What the hell do you want me to do?!” You almost shouted, looking him straight in the eyes, “what more am I supposed to say!? You don’t want me, you chose another woman! I’m not going to fight when it’s already lost.”
He tightened his jaw and his grip on your arm. He didn’t know why he was so upset when you said those words. He should’ve been happy that you gave up, but he wanted to see the feisty woman that never surrender, he wanted you to fight for him. But the words you were saying to him made his heart ache. You were giving up on him, you just accepted that he was marrying another woman.
His expression softened when he saw more tears in your eyes and he slowly loosened his grip on your arm, holding it gently now. He took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice calm. “Say something. Yell at me, tell me I’m a bastard, that you hate me. Anything.”
You inhaled a shaky breath and tried to hold back your tears. Seeing him like this made your heart ache as well, but you knew you had to be strong, “What for? Do you want me to humiliate myself and beg you to pick me? Beg you that you will see how much I love you?”
“Well guess what Simon, I want you to thrive in your upcoming marriage and I don’t want to be seen as an obstacle, I don’t want to see you again Simon..” and I walked out the door and shut it close
And at that moment I felt like I lost myself, lost control. I called Shepard to surrender myself from the army and called an old friend of mine.
I called Amanda “shym is that really you? Girl we’ve missed you so much!”
Amanda’s excited tone on the other side of the phone made your heart clench slightly, you missed your old friend. A lot.
“How is angels palace doing Amanda? I want to come back. I miss everyone..”
“Oh we’re all good but we all miss your presence!” Amanda said in a cheerful tone “Come back here you crazy bitch, we all miss our queen.”
I smiled as tears welled up in my eyes again “so my dad isn’t angry at me leaving him?”
“Yeah he’s still sulking about it“ said Amanda before bursting into laughter “it’s kinda funny whenever someone mentions you, he just puffs like an angry child. But I know and everyone knows that secretly he’s missing your smartass comebacks.”
“And most of all his backbone, you were thriving and making us a lot of money, you need to come back.. Sol.”
A chuckle escaped your lips when she used your old name, nobody called you like that anymore. “Stop it, you’re making me miss that place even more. I swear to God if I get home and I don’t see my favorite drink at the bar I’m going to strangle your ass.”
“My flight leaves at 9 AM, I’ll see you around 7 PM in the evening alright?”
“Perfect, just be prepared to drink tons of my good old cocktails.” Amanda said and you could sense the excitement in her voice.
I drove home and instantly packed all my belongings and my cat, couldn’t leave the poor guy behind. I left my keys in the plant pot and put a note for my tenant that I payed last month rent and I’ve moved out.
After everything was in your bags and the car, you sat down in the driver’s seat and drove straight to the airport. You were already excited to see your old home again and meet your old friends, but your heart still ached from the whole Simon situation.
You checked in your bag and sat down in the waiting area for your flight. People were all around you, walking, chatting, all seemed normal. But you felt heavy and tired, you couldn’t get Simon’s face out of your head. You closed your eyes to rest for a moment.
You were awakened by the announcement on the speakers that your flight was about to start boarding up. You slowly opened your eyes and stood up from your sit, grabbing your bags. You slowly made your way to the boarding desk, showing the worker your ticket before making your way onto the plane.
Time to go back to bogota..
You made your way to your seat at the plane and strapped the seatbelt around your waist. You inhaled a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment, trying not to think about Simon.
‘He’s marrying that stuck up doctor today, I hope everything goes well for them’ I thought
Even thinking that made your heart ache. You hated the thought of him marrying another woman. You took a deep breath and took out your headphones, deciding to play some music to distract yourself.
The flight seemed long, but at least the loud music was helping you to distract from your thoughts. You were listening to some of your favorite songs when the pilot announced your arrival to Bogota.
Back in London it was Simon, trying to call you multiple times since yesterday
He sat alone in his kitchen with his head resting on his crossed forearms. He hasn’t slept and he had bags under his eyes. He picked his phone up again and called your number, hoping that this time you would answer.
He tapped his foot on the floor anxiously and held his breath, listening to the beeping. But then he heard your voicemail again, causing his expression to tense up. He growled in irritation and was about to throw the phone but he quickly stopped himself and called your number again.
He impatiently waited for your voice but heard your voicemail again. He let out another loud sigh and leaned against his chair, covering his face with one of his hands. He was getting fed up, why weren’t you answering?
He dropped his hands from his face and looked at Soap who was grinning widely. He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes with annoyance, “Yeah I’m marrying her today, not even a bloody congratulations?”
Soap scoffed as well and shook his head, “I wouldn’t compliment your choice mate and you know that” he said and sat down next to him, patting his shoulder “are you actually going through with this?”
He leaned back in his seat and avoided eye contact with Soap, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Why wouldn’t I?” He asked in a rough tone, “she’s the one I’m marrying in a couple of hours remember?”
Soap narrowed his eyes at him “because you haven’t slept at all, and you haven’t even spoken to your fiancé since yesterday” he said in a suspicious tone, he knew his friend well and knew that something was wrong.
He averted his gaze from Soap and clenched his jaw. He hadn’t spoken to her, he had called her multiple times but you weren’t answering him, which irritated him even more. He hated the fact that he was having second thoughts and he hated the fact that you still had such an effect on him. “I’m just stressed about the whole marriage situation.” He lied.
Soap chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest, “You, stressed? You’re one of the most calm and composed guys I know” he said in a disbelieving tone, he knew he was hiding something.
He let out a loud scoff and finally looked up at Soap, his expression still tense “even I can get stressed sometimes Soap. Can you just cut me some slack for now?”
Soap raised his hands in defense and gave him a smirk, “Alright mate settle down, was just messing with you” he said and gave him a playful pat on his shoulder “but seriously, are you alright?”
He inhaled a shaky breath and leaned his head back to rest on his chair. He had never opened up to anyone about something like that before. But Soap was his close friend and he trusted him the most out of everyone. He let out a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling “No, I’m not.” He admitted slowly.
“It’s shym.” He said bluntly
Soap’s eyebrows knotted together in confusion “shym? What about her?” He asked in disbelief.
He let out a tired exhale and closed his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair before looking at Soap “She just won’t leave my mind, every time I try to stop thinking about her she’s still there” he admitted, he felt relieved that he was finally telling someone about how he felt, especially Soap who was his best friend.
“You still love shym don’t you..” he said firmly
He stayed silent for a moment, his expression tense. He slowly looked up at Soap and nodded “yeah, I still love her, more than anyone in the world” he admitted in a firm tone “I never stopped loving her.”
Soap raised his eyebrows in surprise. Out of all the possibilities of why his friend was so distracted, he didn’t expect his to say that. “Then why are you marrying another woman?” He asked in disbelief.
Simon looked at soap “because I also love Mia, a lot.. and she’s a better option.”
Soap let out a scoff and rolled his eyes, “How the hell is she a better option? Mate, you’re marrying a woman that you don’t even love that much, instead of the woman you truly love, do you even hear yourself right now?”
He looked away and clenched his jaw stubbornly “Mia is everything I need. She doesn’t distract me with her stupidity, she actually supports me and is there for me. She’s everything I need” he said as he tried to convince himself it was the truth.
Soap rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair, “That’s such bullshit mate and you know it.” He said in an annoyed tone, “You can’t marry a woman that’s not the one that you truly love. Can’t you just pull your head out of your ass and admit that you love shym?”
“It’s already too late, shym left with no trace.. I said some hurtful stuff yesterday and no one can find her now..”
Soap’s eyes widened in surprise and his heart ached for his friend. He didn’t want to believe that it was already too late. He walked back towards him and placed his hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze “She can’t have disappeared like that, she must be somewhere..”
And now i returned to the hotel a coverup for a secret organization that trades and smuggles drugs and other stuff.
As you walked into the palace you saw many people who were close to your family or that you had done business with before. They all looked surprised but somewhat happy to see that you had returned. As soon as your father saw you, he exclaimed and spread his arms wide open before pulling you into a tight and emotional embrace.
“Family! My backbone has returned!”
All the people in the room clapped and cheered as you appeared. Your father kept his arm around your shoulders and held you close to him as he spoke out to everyone in the room. “My daughter has finally returned” he said in a proud tone, “I missed her so much, I cannot believe that she has returned to us, my family is finally reunited once more!”
PART 2 SOON
#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#modern warfare#simon ghost x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#simon riley#codcanon#cod 141#cod imagine#dead dove do not eat#task force 141#taking care of the big guys who are all so bloody#the other woman
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Synastry observations 4
Accuracy influenced by the ENTIRE chart.
PLEASE READ: You may not relate despite having these aspects. It’s important to look at the ENTIRE chart (never just one placement) when reading for accuracy. There are several ways these aspects can manifest.
Moon Conjunct Venus
Intuitive understanding of the other’s emotions. Being in tune with each other. Finding support from one another. Feeling seen, supported & understood. This conjunction can keep bringing the two back together. I’ve also noticed with this conjunction, you create/have many comforting memories together. One may think of the other randomly as memories&thoughts of the other are triggered throughout a normal week.
This placement can make on sentimental & nostalgic. This connection breaking up, is a hellish experience. It’s difficult to not remember the other.
Moon conjunct Mars
In friendships, I’ve noticed the Mars person be very encouraging and supportive of the Moon. For ex: Tell/encourage them to try out for big roles. Mars can help build up confidence for the Moon.
The negative is Mars can (purposefully or accidentally) hurt Moon just as easy as they can build them up. Full chart needs to be taken into consideration.
In relationships, this can create extreme attraction. The two can be quick to act on it as well. For ex: My friend who had a kid young has this with her baby’s dad. They didn’t know each other for too long before having the kid.
Chiron conjunct Sun
Sun can unintentionally shine a light on the other person’s deepest wound. This can be good or bad depending on whether the chiron person is ready to face their past pain. Often, I read this is a red flag in synastry. In my real life, this hasn’t shown true.
In my real life, I’ve seen this twice manifest as the chiron and sun person having a sorta unspoken understanding of one another.
Ex.1: Person A has a chiron cap in 4th House. This person felt like asking their parents for anything was a burden to them. Whether it be an emotional need or a physical want. They were lonely in childhood.
Person B has a cap sun. As the eldest child, they had a similar experience. They would help care for their younger siblings. Attempt to minimize their own needs & wants because they could see how hard it was for their mom to raise the 3 younger kids. They always put their own self last.
Together, Person A and Person B have realized they have similar traits. They admire and respect these traits in each other.
Ex 2. It’s pretty much the same as example one. However, might be due to the age difference but the chiron person admires the sun person. The sun person naturally displays the traits, the chiron person feels necessary to thrive.
The negatives are the hurting each other without fully realizing it. The sun person could sub consciously remind the chiron of their past.
For ex: A Virgo sun’s analytical nature could be perceived as unnecessary criticism to the virgo chiron. The virgo chiron may then begin to dislike the sun as they are reminded of people they don’t like/who hurt them in the past.
Now keep in mind, chiron stays in a sign for 4ish years. You won’t like or dislike every chiron born in those 4 years. This aspect isn’t a main one to be looking at imo unless it is very closely conjunct.
Moon conjunct Mercury
3 times I’ve noticed this creates an awkward beginning but a good long term friendship. It might because it was in earth signs, they tend to be reserved before opening up. Gradually, a good emotional foundation is created. The two understand each other. It’s always easy to catch up even if you take a pause. This is such a good aspect that I see it helps overcome harsher aspects in synastry.
Composite Chart
Aqua Moon: A distance can be kept in the connection. You two may have many placements in your natal chart that indicate you do not open up easily (Cap chiron, Scorpio Venus, 8th H placements, etc). Regardless of how close you get, both may try to remain a bit reserved to prevent being entirely vulnerable to the other. This isn’t necessarily a negative.
Moon in 4th House: A secure connection. Great foundation if you want to build something together (a business, a family). Long term connection indicator. You may find each other reliable. You know what to expect with the other.
Venus conjunct Mars: This would be a difficult connection to move away from. Their is attraction that keeps you two together / coming back together. This is not necessarily sexual. For example, if you have this in a friendship, you two simply have too much history to ever truly forget this person. The connection only grows over time. One cannot replace the other. You two have affected each other’s personalities in a big way. This can be good or bad.
For example, in the 12th House. I’ve seen this as a relationship that fell out. One can go long periods without ever thinking of the other. Yet, the impact they had remains. This person is suspicious and cautious of letting new people entier their lives. Trust issues were created in that connection.
Mars conjunct MC
I’ve seen this manifest in a friendship that fell out. Outsiders who know of the other, know they do not like that other person. Your conflicts can become public with this conjunction.
Venus opposite Mercury
This can make communication very difficult. It can lead to a difference in communication style. For ex: One person is very blunt, the other is very soft spoken & sensitive. You hurt each other with your words even when you don’t mean it.
I’ve seen a chart where Venus was in 12th opposite Mercury. This resulted in one party getting ghosted & blocked.
Moon in 5th House:
A fun connection. You can joke with each other. You can be spontaneous when together. This is a positive placement.
The potential negative is this may become your “remember friend”. You go to each other for nostalgic purposes. Like remember when we____. Repeating old inside jokes. A playful friendship. Prone to avoid serious conversation. This isn’t really negative if you both do not want more from one another. Other placements in the chart can change this as well. You may have the ability to be serious but prefer the joking nature of the connection.
Moon in 7th House:
You two simply make good partners. Ex: Business partners, cooking partners, group project partners, etc. There can be a shared understanding of what is fair and what is right. Only negative is that you should be aware of co dependency issues.
7th House ruler in 12th House:
Twice, I’ve seen this appear as other people being the cause of the connection ending. In one situation, it was emotional cheating. This person got exposed for having very inappropriate conversations with someone else. The second situation, one friend was talking shit & revealing secrets about the other. They were exposed by a mutual friend. In both these situations, the other person was so furious they did not give a clear reason for why they were leaving. They simply left ghosted and blocked.
#synastry observations#astrology#moon conjunct venus#moon conjunct mars#sun conjunct chiron#capricorn chiron#capricorn sun#moon scorpio#scorpio venus#moon conjunct mercury#venus opposite mercury#venus conjunct mars#venus in 12th house#mars conjunct mc#composite chart observations#composite chart#moon in 4th house#moon in 5th house#moon in 7th house#7th ruler in 12th house
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Little Runaway
You are a servant at the King of Curses shrine. You decide to run away one night. Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t tolerate such disobedience.
_________
As you run tirelessly, your bare feet slap against the damp, packed earth. The forest blurs around you, the details scrambling in your frantic pace. There was no time to put on footwear. You just needed to run—run for your goddamn miserable life.
Less than an hour ago, in the dead of night, you managed to escape from the King of Curses' shrine. For over a year, you have been a servant there, though it felt more like captivity, forced to stay and serve him. You've witnessed enough nightmarish scenarios to scar you for eternity. Now, you long for a new kind of freedom.
“Oooh braaaat,” a deep, disembodied voice calls out behind you, sending a chill through your heated skin.
The monster is coming.
You lift the hem of your cream-colored robe and scramble over a fallen tree. The soles of your feet are sore from maneuvering through brambles and twigs, and you're certain they feel cut, stinging painfully with each step. Slick hair clings to your face, and you constantly wipe your forehead as sweat drips into your eyes from the exertion.
You aren’t sure where you're running to. All you know is that—
“Brat! I’ll give you to the count of ten to get back here, or I’ll bite your tiny little fingers off,” his voice grows colder. He's furious that someone as insignificant as you dared to escape him.
Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t tolerate such disobedience.
“I won’t go back!” you call out to him, your voice ragged. He doesn’t respond, but you can sense his footsteps quickening in the brush behind you.
Ahead, there’s a rocky ravine. You scramble then slide down its rugged face, feeling scratches score your backside as you land roughly at the bottom with a soft oof. Without pausing to look back, you keep going.
A loud thud shakes the earth, signalling that he has dropped into the ravine behind you. Glancing back over your shoulder, you finally see him.
Illuminated by the moonlight, he appears utterly terrifying and devastating all at once. He saunters now, fixating his eyes on you. He's in no rush; after all, he enjoys playing with his victims.
"Hello, my little runaway," he says patronizingly, his eyes widening as he relishes the fear that flashes across your face.
As he sees you still running from him, a feral grin breaks across his features, contorting the tattoos on his face. The maw on his stomach mirrors his smile. Its tongue unfurls and laps at the night air like it’s trying to taste you.
You tear your gaze from the monster and pick up your pace, pumping your arms as you aim for the end of the ravine. It's the only escape route, as the steep walls prevent climbing back up.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sukuna chuckles cryptically. But you ignore him.
Just as you reach the edge, something snags your attention. Initially, the massive, cursed spirit doesn't register, but as it ambles down the ravine’s walls and into your path, you skid to a halt and look up—up—up—at it.
Your heart plummets to your feet.
Its mouth opens, exposing needle-like teeth, and you're certain you see human flesh impaled on a few. The cursed spirit advances with a grotesque claw, causing you to step back.
Glancing over your shoulder, you spot Sukuna standing casually, his four arms crossed over his chest. His expression is pure delight as he observes the unfolding scene.
You're trapped—caught between two monsters.
You jerk your head back to the massive cursed spirit as it slowly closes in on you. The stench of its breath makes you gag.
"I did warn you," Sukuna scoffs from behind. You refuse to glance back at him, keeping your eyes trained on the curse while walking backwards in slow, measured steps.
The curse accelerates, its four legs scrabbling for traction as it maneuvers its immense body through the ravine toward you. Tiny rocks and pebbles scatter, forcing you to retreat another step.
Terror grips you as you face a crucial decision.
You glance at the curse, then back at Sukuna, eyes darting between the two.
Sukuna. Cursed spirit. Sukuna. Cursed spirit.
What's the right choice? Death or something else?
A heartbeat later.
You pivot, whirling around to face Sukuna. He's already aware of your decision. He slowly unfurls his four arms, spreading them wide with a wicked smile.
"Come here, idiot," he sneers from the other end of the ravine.
Behind you, the cursed spirit’s claws pound into the earth, urging you to flee. You run—straight toward the very monster you had been running from.
Sukuna stays rooted in place, waiting for you. His smile widens impossibly larger, his four red orbs practically glowing. Every muscle in his body ripples and tenses. His fingertips twitch anxiously, eager to grasp your soft, small frame to his.
"Hurry up, it’s gaining on you," he laughs callously, offering no help as you stumble towards him, navigating rocks and debris.
Finally, within reach, you hurl yourself at him. His four arms snap out and catch you midair, pulling you tightly toward him as he slams your body against his bare chest. Caught. His body doesn’t budge from the impact. He presses his face into your hair, inhaling your fear and sweat from the chase.
"Got you," he murmurs, his mouth pressed to the top of your head, his breath burning against your skull.
You strain your neck to look up at him. He’s massive, towering over you, and his immense presence makes you feel small. Swallowing hard, you meet his intense gaze. His four eyes burn, and you feel like you're drowning under those red pools.
Without averting his gaze from yours, Sukuna releases a hand from your trembling form and extends it toward the approaching cursed spirit. His index and middle fingers extend, and with a swipe through the air, the curse crashes to the ground and dies.
He grins wickedly. "Now, someone needs to be taught a lesson for thinking they can just up and leave their King." Quickly, he lifts you and throws you over his shoulder. The ground feels far away as you dangle in his grip. He adjusts your position so that your upper body hangs over his back, and your lower body presses against his chest, your backside against the side of his head.
Turning, Sukuna begins to walk back to the shrine, his prey caught firmly in his grasp. Tonight, he has plans for you—plans to remind you of who you belong to.
Tension fills the trek back to the shrine. Neither you nor Sukuna speaks. You hang there helplessly, watching the muscles in his back twist and coil with each step, his tattoos moving fluidly. You have to force yourself to look away and focus on the forest, which has gone eerily silent. There are no sounds of animals or insects, as if his presence has driven them all away. Naturally, they’re frightened of him. Who wouldn’t be? You pout and stare at the ground, your arms swaying with each of his movements.
After a while, Sukuna finally speaks. "Someone's sulking because they got caught," he huffs, placing a firm hand on your backside, causing you to turn your head toward him. "It was stupid to think you could get away." You give him your best death stare, directed at the side of his head.
"You aren’t subtle. I can see that," Sukuna says, shifting his lower eye to snap its gaze onto you. You quickly look away, feeling your face heat up. “Tch… idiot.”
Suddenly, a pair of hands snake up and around your ankles. Clutching them, he forces your legs open. Your eyes widen. You want to sit up but can’t because of the way he is holding you. One more hand slowly creeps up your leg, then thigh, then below your undergarment.
"Let's start with your first lesson for trying to run away from me." He keeps his head forward, not even glancing back at you as he walks. You can sense that this is just the beginning, a preamble to whatever punishment he has in store for you.
Pushing the fabric of your undergarment aside, he exposes your cunt to the evening chill.
“S-sukuna,” you stammer and begin wriggling on his shoulder. The hand that was on your backside draws up and then comes crashing back down onto your behind.
Smack!
“Ah!” You cry out from the sharp sting. Your rear is still tender from sliding down the rocky ravine, and now it’s throbbing.
“You ran away from me brat. I don’t pity those who disobey me. Now shut up and take it,” he says harshly, keeping his hand on your tender asscheek as he kneads it through the fabric.
You remain quiet, staring at the ground, trying not to shift under his forceful hand. He keeps walking, his strides so large that you know you'll be back at the shrine soon.
Still grasping your ankles open, you wonder what he will do next. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him raise a hand to his mouth and spit a glob of saliva onto his fingers. The sight of the sticky mess makes you shudder. Bringing his soaking digits back to where he had them, he yanks your undergarment away again.
“Let’s try this again.” His voice is gravelly as he smears his saliva-coated fingertips across your folds. You fight the urge to squirm, heart pounding against his shoulder, and you are sure he can feel it because his three hands tighten around you. Hard. Firm. He is holding you in place.
“You like that?” He muses as his massive fingers push your swollen pussy lips up and down and side to side in slow, torturous circles. “From now on, I want you in my chambers every night. And if you try to escape again, I will chain you up like a dog,” he hisses. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-yes, Master Sukuna,” you say, panting at the treatment he is giving you. It makes you feel heated like your entire body is pulsating.
“Good girl. Now let me have my first taste of this sweet cunt of yours.” He drives one of his fingers past your outer lips, pressing deeply into your clenching walls. You moan loudly, hips bucking. Your arms shoot out, and you desperately cling on for dear life to his lower shoulder. Slowly, he begins to push the finger in, then out, in, then out as he stretches you.
“So fucking tight.” He runs his tongue across his teeth. “We’ll need to fix that for what I have planned.”
Stepping over a rock, you feel his body tipping slightly. The movement catches you off guard, and he uses that to push even deeper, making you a quivering wreck as slick coats your inner thighs. Pleased by the sounds you are making, he quickens the pace until you are writhing.
“Such a needy little thing,” he chuckles, sliding in a second finger.
“Oh! Fuuuck, please, no more,” you cry out. Ignoring you, he bullies the second one in deeper. He pushes until his knuckles graze your folds, then twists them in a circling motion before he pulls away, only to slam them back in. In and out, curling them occasionally, making you tighten around him.
“Ahh-ah! Sukuna!” You whine. He laughs mercilessly at how easy it is to get you all riled up. Your hips grind forward as if your body wants to increase the pressure.
“That’s a good girl. Keep showing me how pitiful you are.” He mockingly swats your ass a few times.
“Too much,” you moan, mouth dropping open, blood rushing to your head.
He chuckles again. “Oh, we are just getting started, brat.” He punctuates the last few words with a few forceful thrusts of his fingers, making you scream.
You were so lost in the sensations that you barely noticed him climbing steps, signaling your arrival at the shrine. The steps pass through your line of vision as you hang over his shoulder, reminding you that you're back at the place you tried to escape.
Pushing open the massive doors, Sukuna strides in with you atop his shoulder. You can hear a group of servants gathered at the main entrance gossiping about your daring escape. He’s still fingering you unapologetically so everyone can hear the sound of your wet squelching cunt. Your face heats in embarrassment as their chattering fades, and they turn towards their Master. You squeeze your thighs around his hand, attempting to halt his ministrations.
“Go back to your fucking rooms!” Sukuna bellows, and they scatter like frightened rabbits in the presence of a predator.
Huffing, he nudges your thighs apart and begins to stroll down one of the corridors, no doubt heading for somewhere private. You can see his enormous shadow cast on the floor by the lanterns, but you don’t stare long because you feel a third finger enter your sloppy heat, making your eyes slam shut.
“Oh, god,” you moan as he fills you up further, slick running down his hand. You are practically vibrating with need as he plunges deeper.
There’s a loud rumble from Sukuna’s chest. “You should be referring to me as your god tonight.” Another swat to your ass, you squeal.
Suddenly, you hear a door slide open with a loud bang, and Sukuna carries you into a dimly lit room. The door slams shut. Lifting your head, you see the overwhelming extravagance of the space—opulent wood furnishings and rich fabrics confirm that you’ve entered his lavish chambers.
After a few measured steps, Sukuna removes his fingers from inside you, and then abruptly, you feel yourself go airborne. The world blurs as you fly off his shoulder and crash onto the futon with a yelp. Fortunately, you land on a cushioned surface, sinking into its softness.
Without a moment's notice, he moves toward you. As he looms over you, you instinctively tilt your head to meet his gaze. His presence is imposing, and the way he stands so close casts a shadow across your form.
Raising his fingers glistening with your essence, he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean.
“So sweet," he hums, licking up every last drop. You blush and clench your thighs together at the sight.
Surveying his fingers, he returns his attention to you. Splaying his hand across your breastbone, he shoves you onto your back, watching as your hair spills out and your anxious eyes dart up to meet his.
Leaning over your body, he puts his face directly before yours. "What was your plan if you had managed to escape?" he asks, moving his lower hands to your trembling thighs and gripping them tightly while his upper hands go on either side of your head, caging you in.
You swallow, taking a moment to let your brain catch up to the situation you’ve found yourself in. The King of Curses hovering over you, your juices staining his lips.
"… maybe going to a village. Starting anew, marrying a good man, and starting a family,” you say quietly.
Sukuna’s upper lip twitches. He glares down at you, clearly upset with your answer—no, he’s fucking fuming.
Suddenly, his lower hands clutch your ankles, and you’re being yanked to the edge of the futon so your legs hang off.
He steps back.
“Start anew? Marry a good man? Start a family? Do you think you deserve those things?” His tone becomes colder, and he’s crossing his four arms over his chest.
“Well, I—”
“You don’t! You are nothing. Worthless. Now, take your fucking clothes off,” he demands.
Instantly, a knot forms in your belly. You want to refuse, but you know it’s futile. Sitting up, you scoot closer, eyes fixed on him, and your hands go to your obi. Unravelling it, you reach for the front panels of your robe, shrugging it off and onto the bed. Now, in your undergarment, you hesitate before reaching for them.
“Slower,” he interjects, as his upper hands move to his hakama, and pulls it down, allowing it to pool at his feet. Two monstrous cocks—hard and weeping with precum—eagerly spring forward. Biting your lower lip, you avert your eyes, lowering them and looking away.
“Ah, ah, ah. Look at me,” his voice rises as he gives you the command.
You return your eyes to him, taking in his naked form. You are transfixed by the sight before you. Despite his reputation as the King of Curses—a monster to many including yourself—he stands before you as the epitome of perfection, unmatched by any other in this world.
Grabbing both heavy shafts, he begins to stroke in slow, languid motions. You want to tear your eyes away, but you can’t. It’s so mesmerizing. His hand squeezing the swollen meat makes you clench around nothing.
“Go on then,” he hedges. His voice has become seductively lower as he grins viciously at you, waiting for you to reveal yourself to his hungry eyes.
Moving in what feels like slow motion, you gradually remove the last piece of clothing covering your body. Your eyes meet, and your face flushes as he drinks you in. Heated face, pert nipples, supple tits, soaking cunt. He already groped your ass on the way back, and he can’t wait to sink into it.
You are everything he wants.
“Look at you,” he rasps, increasing the intensity of his strokes.
You watch him in awe as his balls start shifting forward, moving with the actions. It’s turning you on, watching him pleasuring himself to the mere sight of you. But suddenly, he stops, you pout. He gestures with two fingers directly at the spot on the floor in front of him.
“Get on your knees,” he gives the order, and your body unconsciously obeys. Before you even realize it, you find yourself kneeling before him.
“Such a good girl,” he breathes out, “although your answer on why you wanted to escape needs to be addressed.”
A hand comes forward, and he inserts his thumb into your mouth, hooking it to your bottom lip and teeth. His other fingers go to your chin to pry it open.
“Open wide and say ahhh.”
You don’t even have time to because he’s already shoving his throbbing upper dick past your lips and deep into your throat.
You flinch, then strain and sputter to hold in his girth, feeling your mouth stretch as tears well up and begin to slide down your flushed cheeks. The satisfied groan that rumbles in his chest is so loud it makes your whole body vibrate.
“Fuck… just like that.” Sukuna hisses through gritted teeth, then steadily moves his hips back and forth. His eyes narrow as he watches you, trying to accommodate him.
Almost gently, he pushes your hair back to get a better look at your face. His crimson eyes stare down at you, making you want to shy away and lower your head.
“Open that pretty mouth wider for me,” he says reverently, running a thumb across your cheek and through your tears.
Obediently, you open your mouth wider until your jaw twinges. Sukuna’s eyes glimmer with satisfaction as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your constricting throat. You moan as drool cascades in rivers dripping down to your chest, his cock, his balls, and then the floor.
“That’s it,” he groans, hips snapping until you are pressed to his navel, his cock sufficiently stuffed down your throat. Your moans grow louder, and Sukuna grunts from the vibrations, tilting his head back, his mouth agape.
His thrusts slow once he is pleased with the mess you’ve made. He pulls out of your sopping mouth to look down at you on your knees. He’s so damn pleased to see you down there, he can’t stand it. Gripping his lower cock, he slides it into your wanting mouth for you to suck and lick at. He releases the upper one, causing it to hit your face with a wet slap, drenching you in your spit.
"You will be a disgusting mess when I’m finished with you. And after that, we will do it all again." He declares, voice growing deeper with lust as he runs the wet shaft along your cheeks while fucking your face with the other one.
You look up at him in a lustful daze, trying your best to keep up, gagging and choking your way through it. It turns you on the way he uses you like this, the way he is dominating you. And you know it pleases him to no end. The inexcusable heat that pools between your folds drives you mad, and Sukuna notices. He sees how your eyes have become heavy-lidded and your movements more sensual.
With one more thrust, he makes you gag a final time before withdrawing. Strings of drool connect the two of you, making you groan at the filthy sight. You take a moment to gasp for air and try to catch your breath as you prepare for his next move.
He breathes down at you, a sneer crawling across his face. "You want me. I can see it in your pathetic pleading eyes," he says, his smug tone almost shaming you, but you nod in agreement.
Sukuna reacts instantly, lifting you by your arms and throwing you back onto the futon. You squeal as you land on your back. You really should be more prepared for this kind of treatment.
Approaching you like a feral animal, he flips you onto your stomach, forcing you on all fours as he climbs behind you.
With the soles of your feet exposed, Sukuna touches the cuts and sores you acquired during tonight's chase. You feel him tense briefly, grumbling wordlessly before he goes quiet as if it had never been there.
You feel him lean closer to you. “Tell me what you want slut,” he growls, running a hand teasingly along your inner thigh and through the wetness that has leaked out. “Do you want to be wrecked by me? Is that what you want?”
His filthy words make you tremble with need. It’s a thick feeling, making your brain fuzzy.
"I... I, uh..." You hesitate, unwilling to tell him what you truly desire. How you want to be fucked into oblivion. To be held down by all four of his arms as he takes you. To forget all the reasons for wanting to leave this place, but you stay silent.
“Speak!”
“Fuck me!”
So much for staying silent.
He clicks his tongue, and you can almost imagine the smug, prideful, arrogant expression as he leans over your back—a true king.
He presses his mouth to the shell of your ear. "Then, my pretty little runaway, you will be fucked, stretched and filled so you can never leave this place again,” he whispers. Goosebumps pebble across your skin because of a few words.
Sukuna aligns the fat head of his lower cock with your wet entrance, gradually pushing in. As soon as the tip slips inside, he thrusts himself forward until you completely engulf him.
“Ryomen!” His first name flies from your mouth as he enters you, trying to suck in a breath at the sudden intrusion, but you love how deliciously full your pussy feels.
"That's right, I'll fill you up until you can't take any more. Your greedy body needs to be taught a lesson,” he murmurs as he begins thrusting, his hips moving like a piston. Your body starts to tremble uncontrollably. You have to brace yourself against the futon to keep from collapsing under his intense movements.
With each powerful thrust, his upper cock slaps against the seam of your ass, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You can feel the precum spattering against you with each movement. The lewd sensation only heightens as the friction between your bodies increases. You can’t help but moan as he continues to drive into you, the sound melding with the slap of skin on skin.
Sukuna's movements slow down abruptly, his fingers digging into your hips. "It's time to take all of me," he growls through gritted teeth.
You can hear him spit, and then you feel a warm glob land above your ass, making you flinch. He massages it down to your unfilled hole and coats it with his saliva before slowly inserting his fingers inside. His movements are deliberate and sensual, savouring the sight before him.
“Ahhh,” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth as he slides his fingers in and out of your asshole before removing them and pressing the blunt head against it.
Bracing yourself, you prepare for his second cock to enter you. Your body tenses up with nerves, and you grip onto the sheets. The pressure builds at your entrance as he begins to penetrate you.
It builds and builds. Until a sharp pain shoots through your body as he pushes it in.
“It hurts,” you let out a low whine, unable to hold back the discomfort.
"Shh, you will take it," he says with a dangerous tone, ignoring your protests and continuing to inch forward.
After what feels like an eternity, he finally manages to work it past the rim. With one final shove, he forces it in all the way. The sudden stretching sensation is intense, causing your mouth to drop open and drool to spill uncontrollably. The pain subsides quickly, replaced by a deep throbbing that spreads throughout your entire being.
You are completely filled by the King of Curses.
“Hmngh, fuck, yes,” You can't help the throaty moan that breaks loose from you. You are too far gone now as you rock back against him, desperate for him to start moving inside of you. “Fuck me,” you plead.
He doesn’t move. He wants to torture you some more.
“Look at that,” he murmurs. His lower hands run reverently across the curve of your ass as he admires the sight of you bent over and fully impaled on his dual cocks. "This is how it will always be. Every fucking night. You and me. This." he growls aggressively.
Pulling back all the way until you feel just the tips inside of you. He pauses, leaving you tense, before thrusting forward with full force. The impact scrambles your mind, and you fist the sheets before the moans and screams start tumbling out.
The rhythm he sets now that your snug holes are swallowing him is relentless. You can feel yourself being driven towards the edge. There’s the sound of grunting. It’s either him or you. You can’t even be sure. Everything is just a daze, making you babble incoherently.
Splat!
You feel a rough, slimy tongue glide across your lower back as his stomach maw emerges. It explores around your tailbone, sending tingles up your spine and causing you to writhe uncontrollably. Your reactions, please, Sukuna. He breathes harder, and he increases his thrusts, driving himself into you with more vigour. As a result, drool from his maw splatters onto your heated skin and drenches the sheets. He had warned you that things might get messy, and he wasn't exaggerating.
“You like that? You like being pummeled by me?” You can barely hear him through the sounds of your fucking.
“Yes,” you moan out, hoping that’s what he wanted to hear.
He roughly grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you back, causing your spine to arch. From this angle, you can catch a glimpse of his profile. He continues to thrust into you forcefully like an animal, and as your eyes meet his, he places a hand on your throat, fingers tightening as he applies pressure until you struggle for air. Your body goes limp in his hold, arms dangling helplessly at your sides.
He’s like a monster coveting a prized possession. It feels good—almost too good—being treated this way by him.
He leans in, his rough breath tickling your nape as he nips and licks at it. You can feel the roughness of his mask grazing against your skin, and despite yourself, you can't help but enjoy it. You can only imagine his view of you submitting to him like this.
"Tell me who you belong to," he whispers gruffly, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrusts in and out, dull nails poking at your flesh.
“You! I belong to you,” your needy voice reaches his ears.
Smack!
His hand comes down hard on your ass.
"Louder! Tell me louder, who do you belong to?"
Your eyes roll back. You can feel yourself getting closer to climax.
"You!" You scream, feeling like a wild banshee. "You! My King! It's always been you!"
Smack!
Another painful slap lands on your ass, causing tears to well up in your eyes from the pleasure and pain.
"Yes! Fuck me harder!" You cry out, urging him on as he picks up the pace.
“That’s right,” he hisses as he tries to maintain his rhythm, but it becomes increasingly erratic. He's losing control now. He’s never one to lose control.
You notice him shifting his leg, placing one foot closer to your upper body for better leverage. He thrusts into you with more force, his hands gripping onto you as he takes what he wants: your complete submission.
"Cum for me!" He commands, tightening his grip on your throat. He wants to see you cream all over him. Wants to feel you clench onto his cocks like your life depends on it.
He pushes your face down onto the futon, and the hand around your throat moves to your cheek, tilting it to the side so he can witness every expression on your beautiful face.
He's hitting all the right spots inside you from this new angle. It's intense, almost too much to handle. The maw’s tongue suddenly swipes up your back, making your body tremble. That’s it for you. The heat is building up, coiling in your belly. You know you're close to release. All you can do is look at him as his thrusts become more forceful, his thumbs digging into your hips, and you feel his cock hit against your cervix.
"That’s it. Cum for me," he grunts, urging you on as he keeps pounding into you.
He fucks you so brutally it seems as though he pushes you to the brink of despair, almost abandoning you, before pulling you back like the sweetest salvation.
You scream out in ecstasy, begging him to go harder as you watch him, watching you reach your peak. Your walls clench around him, drenching his lower cock in your juices.
“M-my King!” You scream until your lungs are sore and abused, your eyes fluttering shut as you lose yourself in him.
He grins evilly, his face twisting with pleasure as he thrusts inside you. "Look at me," he demands, wanting your undivided attention. You open yours and lock eyes with him, feeling his two members throbbing inside you as he gives you a few final thrusts before slamming down on you with all his weight.
"Let my cum fill you up," he groans, and the intense heat that fills you is like burning lava. His release is unlike anything you've ever felt, seemingly endless as it fills you to the brim. Over and over. And you eagerly take it, writhing beneath him and moaning as your body milks him for more.
"Sukuna!" You cry out desperately, not wanting this sensation to end as your body twitches and shakes beneath him. But eventually, his seed stops showering your insides, and he slows.
"Good girl," he smirks, looking down at your exhausted form and the cum leaking out from between your used holes. He pats your face condescendingly before pushing you off his members.
Your body jerks forward as Sukuna pulls away. You make a small keening noise at the loss of his touch. His naked form abruptly retreats from you and leaves the room, making you frown at his sudden absence and the loss of his warmth. You fall back onto the futon and turn over, staring at the ceiling as you try to steady your breathing and heartbeat.
You hear him return moments later, carrying a small water basin and cloth. He places them on the futon, grabs your ankle, and reels you closer to him.
Lifting your foot, he examines the cuts and sores on your soles. A tiny crease begins to form above his nose—subtle, but you catch it. Then, with practiced efficiency, he dips the cloth into the water and gently cleans your wounds.
"Why the hell weren’t you wearing footwear this time, you little shit?" he asks, his tone tinged with irritation.
The game between you two is officially over.
You sigh, relaxing. You had noticed him trying to hide his concern about your feet all night, and knowing this makes your heart thump.
Lying there naked on your back, you look at him hulking over you, holding your foot delicately between his firm hands.
"I was too excited," you huff and shrug. "I forgot to grab ‘em."
He stares at you as if you were a child while the warm, damp cloth glides along your foot. You try not to pull away from the tickling sensation as little droplets slide down your leg.
"Oh, you were excited. You forgot to grab them, was it?" he mimics, admonishing you as he squeezes your calf hard. "Footwear next time.”
You roll your eyes. "I’m not the only one who should be in trouble here. What about that cursed spirit you almost let kill me—"
"If you honestly believe I’d ever let anything happen to you, then you're even more of a fool than I thought," he snaps, his eyes flashing with intensity. "I would never allow my wife to be in danger… idiot." His voice softens slightly as he carefully cleans both of your feet. Then, suddenly, he tosses the damp cloth onto your face.
It slaps against you. “Ay!” you exclaim, pulling it off and flinging it at him. He catches it with impressive reflexes, drops it into the basin, and sets it on the floor.
Your husband crawls next to you, pulling you into his chest, four arms encircling you.
Caught.
He presses his face into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of musk from your brutal fucking, and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
You stay quiet and still as you relax in his arms, your mind replaying the night's events. You remind yourself to return the servant’s robe you borrowed for this.
Sukuna shifts suddenly as if agitated by, gods know what.
“What you said about leaving, starting anew, finding a good man—I would hunt you down, you know,” he pauses momentarily, considering his words. “Then I would fuck you in front of him and rip his spinal cord through his mouth and drag you back here,” Sukuna growls, his lips brushing against your skin with soft kisses.
Your heart tightens. The jealousy over some imaginary man you mentioned is almost sweet.
"Hmm, I know you would," you say, settling against him even more.
You know you would never leave him because you have everything you need right here. He is the only one who can satisfy your perverse desires, and you might be the only one who doesn't see him as the disgraceful monster he truly is.
You both lie there together, your bodies aching in ways you never thought possible.
Finally, you break the silence. “When you threatened to chain me up like a dog… were you serious?” You ask, trying to mask your true intentions.
“Princess,” he says with a patronizing affection, “when am I not serious with my threats?” You can hear the smugness in his voice as he weaves his fingers through your hair and gazes down at you.
A smile spreads across your face as you look up at him.
“I think I have an idea for our next game.”
_________
If you're interested in more Sukuna x Reader (smut, slow burn, forced marriage) content, I'm much more active on Ao3: Beneath The Silk
#jjk x reader#ryomen sukuna#jjk smut#jjk x you#sukuna true form#sukuna smut#sukuna x you#heian sukuna#jjk fluff#new to this#sukuna has two dicks
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