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oldsoul007 · 2 days ago

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7 summers

joel miller x reader

summary: After seven years apart, you see Joel Miller again, and what once felt like a fleeting teenage fling comes rushing back, forcing you to confront the love you never truly let go.

a/n: suggestive scenes, kissing, angstyish, fluff

joel miller masterlist

The summer I was eighteen, I fell in love with Joel Miller.

Not that I ever admitted it—not to him, not to myself, and certainly not to Tommy. Joel was Tommy’s older brother, and Tommy was my best friend. He was the one person in my life who knew everything about me, who’d always been there when I needed him. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin that. So, when Joel and I started sneaking off together that summer, I convinced myself it was just a fling, a secret I could lock away and never think about again.

But it wasn’t.

That summer was everything. Stolen kisses by the lake, his rough hands trailing down my arms, the way his voice turned soft when he called me “darlin’.” He wasn’t just my first love; he was my whole world, even if I couldn’t say it out loud. I wanted to. God, I wanted to tell him. But every time I opened my mouth, the fear of what would happen—the fallout with Tommy—kept the words stuck in my throat.

By the end of the summer, I was gone. Off to work, off to whatever life waited for me outside of our small Texas town. I swore to myself I’d move on, forget him, and never let myself feel that way again.

But some loves don’t fade.

Seven summers later, I was doing just fine—at least, that’s what I told myself. Then I ran into Tommy at a bar. Same grin, same easy laugh. For a second, it felt like we were kids again, back when everything was simple.

“y/n l/n,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “Where the hell have you been hiding?”

We talked for hours, catching up, reminiscing about all the trouble we used to get into. By the end of the night, he’d convinced me to come over for dinner. “It’s been too damn long,” he said. “You gotta come by. I’ll cook, just like old times.”

I didn’t think twice about it. I should have.

When I walked into Tommy’s house two nights later, I saw him. Joel.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, a beer in his hand, looking exactly like I remembered—but somehow more. Broader, older, rougher around the edges in a way that made my stomach twist. The second he saw me, he froze, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Y/n,” he said, my name soft on his lips.

“Joel,” I whispered, my heart hammering in my chest.

Tommy, oblivious as ever, waltzed into the room and clapped a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You two know each other, right? Y/n used to hang out all the time when we were kids.”

Joel glanced at me, waiting, and I knew he was asking me to hold the line. To keep the secret we’d buried all those years ago. Somehow, I found my voice. “Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. “We’ve met.”

seven summers ago

The room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the moon streaming through the thin curtains. It painted faint shadows across the walls, moving slightly with the breeze that didn’t quite reach us. The night was warm and heavy, the air clinging to my skin, and the constant chirp of crickets outside filled the silence. I lay flat on my back, my head sinking into the flat pillow of the old, creaky bed in my family’s lakehouse.

Joel was beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. His shoulder brushed against mine every time one of us moved, a gentle reminder of how little space there was between us. We hadn’t spoken for what felt like hours, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy. Dense with the weight of things neither of us wanted to say.

I turned my head slightly, just enough to look at him. The moonlight caught the angles of his face, his jawline sharp and his dark eyes fixed on the ceiling like he was trying to untangle some thought that wouldn’t let him go. I swallowed the lump in my throat and fidgeted with the frayed edge of the blanket resting around our waists, trying to quiet the thoughts spinning in my head.

“What do you think you’ll be doing in ten years?” I asked, my voice soft. It felt like the kind of question that belonged in a moment like this, one that could break the silence without shattering it.

Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, like I’d caught him off guard. He turned his head to look at me, the corner of his mouth tugging up in that small, shy smile he did so well. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice low and easy. “Probably still workin’ construction, maybe startin’ my own business if I’m lucky.”

I smiled at the thought of it—of Joel running his own business. It felt so… right. “You’d be good at that,” I said, meaning it. “You’re good with your hands.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head like he didn’t believe me, but his gaze lingered. “What about you?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady. “What’s y/n gonna be doing in ten years?”

I bit my lip, my smile faltering as I stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know,” I said after a pause. “Just something far away from here.”

I felt Joel shift beside me, his voice hesitant when he repeated my words. “Far away?”

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my eyes on the ceiling. “I just… I’ve always felt like there’s something out there, you know? Something bigger. I don’t want to stay stuck in one place forever.”

There was a long pause, and I could feel his gaze on me even though I didn’t look at him. Then, slowly, I felt his hand brush against mine. My breath caught as his fingers tentatively laced with mine, his palm warm and a little rough.

“You won’t be stuck,” he said softly, his voice sure but carrying something else—something deeper.

I turned my head to look at him, our hands still tangled between us. “How do you know?” I whispered, my voice unsteady.

His eyes didn’t waver as they held mine, dark and steady. “’Cause you’re different, y/n. You’ve got somethin’—a spark or somethin’. You’re meant for more than this little town.”

His words hit me in a way I wasn’t prepared for, filling me with equal parts hope and fear. I wanted to believe him—to believe that I was different, that I was meant for something more. But the thought of leaving, of leaving him, made my chest ache.

“What if I don’t want to leave everything behind?” I asked, my voice so soft I wasn’t sure he’d hear it.

Joel’s expression softened, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. “Then don’t,” he said simply. “But don’t let anyone hold you back, either. Not me, not Tommy… no one.”

His words settled over me, heavy and full of meaning. He was giving me permission, I realized—not that I needed it, but it still felt like he was handing me something. Something I wasn’t sure I could take.

I turned my gaze back to the ceiling, my throat tight and my heart pounding. There were a thousand things I wanted to say to him, things I couldn’t untangle from the knot of feelings twisting inside me. I didn’t want to leave him. He was the one thing that made staying feel worth it.

But I didn’t say any of that.

Instead, I squeezed his hand, letting the silence take over again. It stretched between us, thick with everything we weren’t saying, everything we might never say.

Joel didn’t pull away, and neither did I. We just lay there, our hands still tangled together, the weight of the moment pressing down on us as the warm summer night carried on.

The smell of grilled steak and warm buttered rolls filled Tommy’s kitchen, a scent so familiar it made my chest ache. It was the kind of meal I’d had a hundred times at the Miller house, back when summer nights were spent on their back porch, laughing over cold beers and fireflies.

I hadn’t expected to feel so at home here after all these years. But I also hadn’t expected Joel to be sitting across the table from me, looking at me like I was some kind of ghost from his past.

It had been seven summers since I last saw him—since I left. Seven years of growing up, of moving on, or at least trying to. But sitting here now, it felt like no time had passed at all.

“So,” Tommy said, leaning back in his chair as he nursed a beer. “Y/n, what the hell have you been up to? Feels like forever since we’ve seen you.”

I smiled, shrugging slightly. “Oh, you know. Work, life. Moved around a little, but I’m back now.”

Joel, who had been quiet most of the night, finally spoke up. His voice was lower, rougher than I remembered, like time had left its mark on him. “Didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

His words weren’t harsh, but there was something underneath them—something I couldn’t quite place.

“Neither did I,” I admitted, meeting his gaze. “Guess life doesn’t always go the way you think it will.”

Joel scoffed, shaking his head as he cut into his steak. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Tommy grinned, oblivious to the tension thickening between us. “Well, now that you’re back, maybe we can finally convince you to stick around for good this time.”

I gave a small laugh, but before I could answer, Joel spoke again. “Surprised you ain’t married yet.”

I blinked, caught off guard. His tone wasn’t teasing—if anything, he sounded genuinely curious.

“Yeah,” Tommy chimed in, smirking. “I figured some poor guy would’ve snatched you up by now.”

I rolled my eyes at Tommy’s comment, but it was Joel’s reaction I was focused on. His fork was still in his hand, his knuckles just a little too tight around it, his eyes steady on me like he was waiting for an answer.

“Guess I just haven’t found the right guy,” I said finally, keeping my voice light.

Joel’s jaw tightened slightly. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he just nodded, his gaze flickering away as he took a slow sip of his beer.

I felt my stomach twist. There were a hundred things I wanted to ask him, a hundred things I wanted to say, but none of them felt safe—not here, not with Tommy sitting between us, completely unaware of the unspoken history filling the room.

“So what about you?” I asked, tilting my head. “Married yet?”

Joel let out a breath of a laugh, shaking his head. “Nope”

I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t.

And just like that, the conversation moved on, Tommy rambling about something from work, and I forced myself to laugh along, to pretend like my heart wasn’t pounding, like Joel’s words—and the look in his eyes—hadn’t completely thrown me off balance.

But I could feel it.

That pull. That thing between us that had never really gone away.

And by the way Joel kept sneaking glances at me across the table, I knew he felt it too.

Dinner stretched on, filled with Tommy’s easy conversation and the occasional laugh, but I barely heard any of it. My mind was stuck on Joel—on the way he kept glancing at me, on the weight behind his words, on the tension that hummed between us like a live wire.

It felt like the past was pressing in on us, slipping through the cracks of time as if the last seven years had been nothing more than a breath between moments.

When the plates were cleared and Tommy started rambling about a game he wanted to watch, Joel stood, grabbing a beer from the fridge. He hesitated for a second, then looked over at me.

“Come out back with me?” His voice was casual, but his eyes told a different story.

I shouldn’t have gone. I should’ve made an excuse, said my goodbyes, and walked out that door before I let myself slip any further into something I wasn’t sure I could handle.

But I nodded anyway.

I followed him through the screen door onto the back porch, the night air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and warm summer air. The old wooden planks creaked under our weight as we stepped out, the sound familiar in a way that made my chest ache.

Joel leaned against the railing, taking a slow sip of his beer as he looked out at the yard. I stood beside him, hands gripping the edge of the wood, waiting for him to speak.

After a long pause, he exhaled and said, “Didn’t think I’d ever see you sittin’ at our dinner table again.”

His voice was softer now, quieter—just for me.

I swallowed, staring down at my hands. “Didn’t think I would be, either.”

He was quiet again, then he asked, “Why’d you come back?”

I let out a slow breath, watching the way the fireflies blinked lazily across the yard. “Needed a reset,” I admitted. “Life didn’t exactly turn out how I thought it would.”

Joel hummed, like he understood that better than he wanted to admit. “You runnin’ from somethin’?”

I hesitated before answering, because maybe, deep down, I was. But not in the way he thought.

“Not running,” I said carefully. “Just… trying to figure things out.”

Joel nodded like he got it, his fingers tapping absently against the neck of his beer bottle. He looked over at me then, his eyes dark under the dim glow of the porch light. “Seven years, y/n. That’s a long fucking time.”

I met his gaze, my throat tightening. “Yeah,” I whispered. “It is.”

Another pause stretched between us, thick and heavy. Then, so softly I almost didn’t hear it, Joel said, “I missed you.”

The words knocked the breath right out of me.

I turned to fully face him, my heart hammering in my chest. “Joel…”

He shook his head, setting his beer down on the railing before rubbing a hand over his jaw. “You don’t gotta say anything. Just—” He exhaled sharply, like he was fighting some internal battle. “Hell… It’s just… weird, you know? Havin’ you here again.”

I nodded, because it was weird. It was terrifying. It was everything I hadn’t let myself feel in years rushing back all at once.

“I missed you too,” I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Joel’s eyes flickered with something—something deep and unreadable. His fingers curled around the railing, his knuckles flexing like he was holding something back.

I should’ve walked away then. I should’ve let the moment pass before it became something bigger, something neither of us could take back.

But I didn’t.

Because the truth was, I didn’t want to.

And judging by the way Joel was looking at me, like he was seconds away from breaking, neither did he.

The night stretched thick between us, heavy with words we weren’t saying, with memories pressing in like ghosts we couldn’t shake. Joel was still gripping the railing, his fingers tightening and loosening like he was trying to talk himself out of something.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to.

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” he finally murmured, eyes still locked on me. “You and me. Sneakin’ around, swearin’ we weren’t—” He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “—feelin’ things we both knew damn well we were.”

His words hit deep, settling somewhere behind my ribs. Because that was the truth, wasn’t it? We had never admitted what we were, never spoken those words out loud, and yet, we both had known.

I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay steady. “We were just kids.”

Joel turned toward me then, slow and deliberate. “That what you tell yourself?”

I didn’t answer, because we both knew the truth. We hadn’t been just kids. Maybe we were young, maybe we didn’t know how to say it back then, but it had been real. As real as anything I’d ever felt.

Joel took a step closer, not enough to touch me, but enough that I could feel the warmth of him, could smell the mix of beer and cedarwood that clung to his skin.

“You happy?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more careful.

The question caught me off guard, not because it was unexpected, but because I wasn’t sure how to answer it.

I looked up at him, at the way the years had settled into him—lines at the corners of his eyes, a little more weight in his stance, a quiet kind of tiredness in his gaze. But underneath it all, he was still Joel. Still the boy who once laid beside me on a summer night, our fingers laced together, talking about the future like it was something we had all the time in the world to figure out.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Are you?”

Joel exhaled, his jaw clenching just slightly before he shook his head. “No”

The word settled between us, bare and unguarded.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The sounds of the night filled the silence—distant laughter from inside, the low hum of crickets, the creak of the porch as Joel shifted closer.

Then, softly, like he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask, he said, “You ever think about it?”

I knew exactly what he meant.

I wet my lips, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. “Think about what?”

Joel’s gaze dipped down to my mouth for half a second before coming back up. His voice was lower now, rougher.

“Us.”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

Joel took another step, and this time, he was close enough that I could feel the heat of him, could see the way his breathing had slowed like he was holding something back.

“I think about it all the damn time,” he admitted. “What it would’ve been like if you stayed. If I—” He stopped himself, his hand flexing at his side before he finally met my gaze again. “If I hadn’t let you leave without sayin’ somethin’ real.”

I felt my breath hitch.

seven summers ago

The morning air was crisp for late August, the kind of cool that hinted at the coming fall. The sun hadn’t quite broken through the haze yet, and the lake behind Tommy’s house was still and gray, like it was holding its breath. My car was packed, the trunk stuffed to the brim with clothes, books, and the small reminders of home I couldn’t bear to leave behind.

Tommy leaned against the side of my car, his arms crossed and his usual cocky grin nowhere to be found. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him look this serious. His dark hair was a mess, like he hadn’t bothered to brush it, and his shirt was wrinkled from where he’d probably pulled it off the floor.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, his voice low and unusually hesitant.

“Yeah,” I said, though my voice wavered. “I think so.”

He shook his head, a small smile breaking through. “You’ve been talking about leaving since we were ten. If anyone’s ready, it’s you.”

I tried to smile back, but my chest ached too much to manage it. “Doesn’t make it any easier,” I admitted.

Tommy’s grin softened, and he stepped forward, pulling me into a hug that was tighter than I expected. He smelled like summer—grass, lake water, and a hint of the cheap cologne he always overused.

“Don’t forget about us little people when you’re out there changing the world, alright?” he said, his voice muffled against my hair.

I laughed, but it came out watery. “I could never forget you, Tommy. You wouldn’t let me.”

“Damn right,” he said, pulling back. His eyes were suspiciously shiny, but he blinked fast and didn’t let it show. “Call me, okay? I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. I wanna hear about everything—college parties, classes, annoying roommates, all of it.”

“Promise,” I said, my voice thick.

He stepped back, giving me a mock salute before wandering toward the house. And that’s when I saw Joel.

He was standing on the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams like he’d been there the whole time. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t moving, just watching me with an expression I couldn’t read. His dark eyes locked on mine, and for a second, it felt like the whole world had gone still.

I hesitated, my chest tightening as I took a shaky breath and forced myself to walk toward him. The porch creaked under my weight, and when I stopped in front of him, he straightened, his hands shoved into the pockets of his worn jeans.

“Didn’t think you’d come say goodbye,” I said softly, my voice catching in my throat.

Joel’s jaw tightened, and he glanced away, staring out at the lake like it held the answer to whatever he was struggling with. “’Course I’d come,” he said after a long moment, his voice low and rough. “Wouldn’t let you leave without it.”

I swallowed hard, my hands curling into fists at my sides to keep from reaching for him. “I’ll miss you,” I said, the words barely above a whisper.

His gaze snapped back to mine, and for a second, I thought he might say something—something I’d been waiting to hear for what felt like forever. His mouth opened, but then he closed it, his shoulders stiffening as if he’d talked himself out of it.

“Don’t let anyone hold you back,” he said instead, his voice steady but distant. “Not me, not Tommy… no one.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. They were the same ones he’d said to me that night at the lake house, the same ones that had stayed with me long after the summer ended.

I wanted to scream at him, to shake him, to tell him that he wasn’t holding me back—he was the only thing making it hard to leave. But I couldn’t. The words stuck in my throat, too tangled up in everything I felt for him to come out right.

Instead, I nodded, blinking hard against the tears threatening to spill. “Take care of Tommy for me,” I said, my voice trembling.

Joel’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Always.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that stretched so long it felt unbearable. Then, before I could second-guess myself, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.

For a moment, he didn’t move, and I thought he might pull away. But then his arms came around me, strong and steady, holding me tighter than I’d expected. I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in—sawdust, sweat, and the faint trace of cologne he only wore when he had to.

I wanted to stay there forever, to let the rest of the world disappear, but I couldn’t. I pulled back, my hands lingering on his arms for just a moment before I let them fall to my sides.

“Goodbye, Joel,” I said, my voice barely steady.

He didn’t say anything, just nodded, his dark eyes heavy with something I couldn’t name.

I turned and walked to my car, my chest aching with every step. As I slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, I glanced in the rearview mirror. Joel was still standing on the porch, his hands shoved in his pockets, watching me drive away.

I didn’t look back again. If I had, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to leave.

“You think it would’ve changed anything?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Joel’s throat bobbed. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He ran a hand over his face, letting out a breath like he was fighting with himself. “But I do know one thing.”

“What?”

He lifted his hand, hesitant at first, then finally brushed his fingers along my arm, his touch featherlight but enough to send a shiver up my spine.

“I ain’t ever felt nothin’ like I felt with you,” he murmured. “Not before. Not after.”

I sucked in a shaky breath, my body swaying toward his before I could stop it.

“Joel…”

He shook his head, his hand trailing down my arm until his fingers barely skimmed mine. “Tell me you don’t feel it,” he said, voice rough and strained. “Tell me you don’t feel like we lost somethin’ we weren’t supposed to.”

I wanted to lie. Wanted to say that I had moved on, that whatever we had back then was just young and reckless, something that wasn't meant to last.

But I couldn't.

Because I did feel it.

I felt it in the way my chest ached just looking at him, in the way his touch still sent a shiver down my spine, in the way every moment we spent apart felt like time wasted.

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling slightly under his. "I can't tell you that," | whispered.

Joel's breath caught, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around mine, like he was holding onto something he wasn't ready to let go of.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. The air between us was thick, humming with something too strong to ignore, too real to pretend wasn't there.

The air between Joel and I crackled with so much unspoken tension, it was almost unbearable. My heart pounded against my chest, every nerve alight with the pull between us, but neither of us moved. We were so close, I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, his hands lingering on my waist as if he were just waiting for me to make the next move. And I almost did.

But before I could, the sound of the screen door creaked behind us.

“Hey, you guys coming back in?” Tommy called out from the doorway, his voice loud and clueless as ever. “I got that game on, and I’m not drinking alone out here.”

I froze, every muscle in my body locking up, and for a split second, it felt like the world had just stopped. Joel pulled back, almost imperceptibly, his hands still resting on my waist but no longer holding me so tightly. We both turned toward the door, where Tommy was standing with a grin, completely unaware of what had almost happened.

Joel cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly as he took a half step back. “Yeah, we’ll be right in,” he called back to Tommy, his voice rough, like he was trying to hide the tension that had just exploded between us.

Tommy, oblivious to everything that had just passed between us, gave a lazy wave and turned back inside. “Don’t take too long, man! You know I need company for the game.”

I watched him disappear into the house, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft thud. A long, silent moment passed between Joel and me, and I could almost hear the words that neither of us was willing to say. But we both knew it—what had just happened. What had almost happened. It hung between us like a heavy fog, and yet, neither of us moved to bridge the gap.

Joel was the first to break the silence, his voice low and rough. “Guess that’s our cue.”

I nodded, my throat tight as I tried to process everything. The heat between us hadn’t gone away, not even with Tommy’s interruption. If anything, it only made it stronger. But now, standing here with Joel so close, with everything hanging in the air, I wasn’t sure where to go from here.

“Yeah,” I managed to say, my voice shaky. “Guess it is.”

Joel let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture that always made him look like the same guy from years ago. He didn’t seem as certain as he had just moments before. There was hesitation now, uncertainty.

He gave a short nod, turning toward the door. “Come on. Let’s not keep Tommy waiting.”

I followed him back inside, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on me. The door swung shut behind us, and we both slipped back into the routine of being around Tommy, pretending like nothing had changed.

But it had.

I could feel it in the way Joel’s eyes lingered on me when he thought I wasn’t looking, in the way my chest tightened every time he spoke, like I was trying to hold myself together while something deeper, something real, threatened to spill out.

I wasn’t sure how we were going to handle this. How we were supposed to go back to the way things were. But for now, we were both content to pretend. Pretend that everything was fine, that Tommy hadn’t just unknowingly interrupted something that could change everything.

I stepped out onto the porch, the cool night air brushing against my skin, but my body still felt warm from the tension that lingered between us. I hadn’t expected things to go the way they had tonight—especially not after so much time had passed. But there was no denying it. The pull I felt toward Joel had never truly gone away.

“Let me give you a ride home,” Joel said, breaking the silence as he stepped up beside me. His voice was low, a little gravelly, and there was something in his eyes—something that made my heart race.

I hesitated for a moment, looking back toward the door, knowing I should just leave and get some space to clear my head. But the desire to be close to him again, even just for a little longer, was stronger than any of the reasons I told myself I should go.

“Yeah,” I said, finally giving in, “okay.”

We walked to his truck, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound between us. The night felt different now, charged with something neither of us wanted to acknowledge—at least, not yet. When we got to the truck, Joel opened the door for me, his eyes never leaving mine as I climbed in. The truck door shut with a soft thud, and I settled in, trying to steady my breathing.

The drive was quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. But the air between us was thick with everything unsaid—the years apart, the memories we couldn’t forget.

When we finally pulled up to my place, I felt a lump form in my throat. I didn’t want to say goodbye—not yet, not like this. But what else was there to say?

Joel’s truck rumbled to a stop outside my house, but neither of us moved immediately. The air felt thicker now, heavier, charged with all the things we hadn’t said. My heart was racing in my chest, the silence between us louder than any words could’ve been.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said quietly, trying to force some kind of normalcy into the situation. But my voice trembled, betraying everything I was trying to hide.

Joel didn’t answer at first, just stared at me for a moment. His brow furrowed, his jaw tense, like he was struggling to keep control. Without another word, he climbed out of the truck and walked around to my side, his movements slow but purposeful.

I froze for a second, wondering what he was doing. But when he reached the passenger door, he opened it, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. “Let me walk you to your door,” he said softly, as though it was a question, though neither of us needed permission.

I nodded, my throat tight, and stepped out of the truck, trying to steady myself as I moved toward him. His presence was magnetic, pulling me in as we walked together, side by side, toward the porch.

The night was quiet around us, but everything felt loud—our footsteps echoing, the rush of my pulse in my ears, the space between us that felt far too small for both of us to be standing in. My mind raced, but my body seemed to know exactly what it wanted, gravitating toward him with every step.

When we reached the front door, Joel stopped, turning to face me. There was something in his eyes, something raw and desperate, like he couldn’t stand to let go of this moment. The weight of the unspoken hung between us, and for a split second, I almost thought he would say something, but he didn’t. He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine, a quiet, gentle touch that sent a shock through my body.

“Y/n…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His hand lifted to my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek as he took another step closer. My breath hitched in my throat as I looked up at him, barely able to hold his gaze.

The moment felt too fragile, and I couldn’t make myself say anything else. Slowly, I turned toward the door, my hand reaching for the handle. “Goodnight, Joel,” I said, my voice barely audible.

He didn’t speak as I opened the door, stepping back just enough to let me through. I kept my gaze focused ahead, not trusting myself to look back at him, afraid of what I might see, afraid of what I might feel.

The door clicked shut behind me as I walked into my house, the weight of the night settling around me. I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I'd told myself I wasn't going to give in, that I was going to walk away and let things be, but Joel's words, his touch, had made it impossible to ignore the truth l'd buried for so long.

I slipped out of my shoes and made my way into the living room, my heart still racing from everything that had happened. As I sank into the couch, the silence in the house felt suffocating. I closed my eyes, but all I could see was Joel-his face, his hands on me, his kiss.

I was trying to talk myself down, to convince myself that I could move on. That I should. But just as I was about to stand, I heard a knock on the door.

I froze. My heart skipped a beat.

I walked slowly to the door, trying to calm the rush of emotions flooding my chest. When I opened it, there he was— Joel. Standing in the dark, his posture tense, but his eyes searching mine like he had to say something, like he couldn't leave without it.

“I can’t walk away from you again,” he said, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

Before I could even respond, his hand reached out to gently tug me closer, and his lips crashed onto mine. The kiss was fierce, urgent, as if he was trying to make up for the years apart, as if he couldn't stand the space between us anymore. I gasped, my hands coming up to clutch at his shirt as I kissed him back, my body pressed against his, needing him as much as he needed me.

He pulled me fully into the doorway, his hands moving to my waist, guiding me backward into the house. The door closed behind us with a soft thud, but neither of us paid attention to it.

All that mattered was the way his lips moved against mine, the way his touch made me feel like I was finally coming home.

Joel's kiss deepened, his hands sliding up my back to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer until there wasn't an inch of space between us.

I felt the heat of his body, the way his muscles flexed as he held me, the way his breath caught when I tugged him.

When we finally pulled apart, I was breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. His forehead rested against mine, both of us struggling to catch our breath, to make sense of what had just happened.

My fingers curling into his shirt as I pulled him back to me, not wanting to let go, not wanting to fight this anymore. Neither of us was ready to say goodbye—not yet, not when the night was still young and the truth was finally out in the open.

The world outside disappeared, leaving only us in this moment, the only sound the rush of our breathing, the pounding of our hearts in sync.

He pulled away briefly, his forehead resting against mine, his breath shaky.

"I can't pretend anymore," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I never stopped wanting you, y/n. Not for a second."

My heart twisted in my chest, and I didn't care anymore about what we had to lose. "Neither did I," I whispered, before closing the space between us again, kissing him with everything I had left to give.

This time, there was no holding back. We were finally done running from the truth.

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pukefactory · 3 days ago

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HELLO!! May I please request some Bobbette x reader headcannons?

Of course! I hope you enjoy these headcanons.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮ CHERRY LEMONADE ✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

❆ Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring Bobette as your girlfriend

❆ Character(s): Bobette (Dandy’s World), Coal (Dandy’s World)

❆ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, SFW

❆ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

❅ Bobette is already a cheerful and friendly toon, but with you, she’s the sweetest companion imaginable. Caring, inventive, and always by your side, she wants nothing more than to spend time with you and spread holiday cheer. Lively and upbeat, she makes it nearly impossible to stay upset when she’s around.

❅ One of Bobette’s favorite traditions is enjoying cookies with a warm cup of hot cocoa, and naturally, she wants to share that with you! With Tegan’s help, she prepares a big plate of cookies and two oversized mugs of hot cocoa, topped with cream and marshmallows—the full works. The two of you cuddle up, savoring your treats and each other’s company. It’s not unusual for you both to drift off during this, with Bobette’s arm around your shoulder as you rest your head against her chest, peacefully napping together.

❅ As a toymaker, Bobette is extremely busy around Christmas, crafting toys to fulfill children’s wishes. But even though she’s the best at what she does, she still appreciates an extra pair of hands. When you offered to help, she was over the moon! She loves having you by her side, even if it means things get a bit messier than usual, with paint scattered everywhere. Over time, you become more skilled, and together, you both produce toys far more quickly than Bobette could on her own. With your help, her work feels even more special.

❅ Speaking of presents, Bobette often gives you gifts she made herself. Whether it’s a toy you specifically requested or something as simple as a new blanket, she always manages to create or find exactly what you wanted—and you couldn’t be more grateful. Bobette makes sure you never go without, and seeing your face light up with happiness and surprise makes it all worthwhile for her. Just be prepared—sometimes, she might give you a few too many gifts!

❅ Being Bobette’s partner means you are partially responsible for looking after Coal, especially when she isn’t around. Coal tolerates you as much as she does everyone else—except for her owner—but she is a bit warmer toward you than she is with others. When Bobette is too busy, it’s up to you to take Coal on small walks and help her move large crates of toys. Of course, she probably likes you more than most because you regularly give her favorite treats, making you very popular in her eyes. Your girlfriend truly appreciates your help with Coal, and you always get plenty of kisses from her after she sees how well her pet rock has been cared for.

❅ It’s probably no surprise that Bobette’s wardrobe consists entirely of Christmas-themed sweaters. However, nearly all of them are at least slightly itchy—if not unbearably so. Neither of you knows why, but they always seem to irritate her skin. As a surprise, you got her a stack of new, non-itchy Christmas sweaters made from the softest, most comfortable material you could find. Needless to say, Bobette was elated and gave you a bone-crushing hug. From that moment on, she only wears the ones you gave her.

❅ Another one of Bobette’s favorite festive activities is making gingerbread houses, and what better way to make it even more fun than doing it with you? She carefully lays out all the supplies before you begin, and it isn’t long before you’re both covered in brightly colored icing, your hands and aprons a complete mess. No matter how much effort you put into decorating, the house always seems to collapse under the weight of gumdrops, peppermint swirls, and mountains of powdered sugar. After a moment of staring at the sugary disaster, you both burst into laughter and give up, helping each other clean the icing off your skin. Her kisses tasted especially sweet that day. You both agree to ask Ginger for help next time.

❅ After finishing her toy making, Bobette loves nothing more than to snuggle up with you and Coal under a warm, cozy blanket. You’re well aware—probably even more than she is—that her constant work leaves her completely exhausted and maybe even a little stressed. You can see it in her eyes; something always seems different once she’s done. Of course, you’d never stop her from doing what she loves, but you make up for it by ensuring your shared bedroom is as comfortable as possible. Soft Christmas lights, freshly baked treats, warm cocoa, plush blankets, and an especially cozy Coal all make her heart swell with happiness. So, you always make sure everything is just right before she returns. She rests easily, comforted by the love and care you put into making her feel at home.

❅ Bobette loves telling you about her adventures with Coal—how they delivered presents in blizzards, how she got frostbite, and how she came so close to meeting Santa himself. Oddly enough, she only seems to share these stories when you’re settling in for bed, which can be a little frustrating since her voice is so soothing that you always fall asleep before hearing how they end. Fortunately, you still remember every detail of each tale, no matter how many times she retells them. Especially the one about Coal dragging Bobette through the snow in a sleigh—you’d love to recreate that someday, even if there’s no snow.

❅ Bobette often attaches a sprig of mistletoe to the end of her hook to steal as many kisses from you as possible—and you fall for it every time. Not that you mind the extra affection, but she loves pulling you into an impossibly tight hug and covering your face with kisses until you’re too breathless to protest. When she finally lets go and you gasp for air, she giggles, apologizes, and insists that you’re simply too cute not to smother with kisses. Honestly, you can’t argue with that. You do love her kisses, after all.

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nameless-jamie · 3 days ago

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I love the PA series!! So so good! The dynamic between them <3 if you ever write more of them, I’d love to see your take on a role reversal type of situation where Jamie has to help his PA (maybe she’s having a bad day or something like that).

Thank you for all your writing <3 and hope your week is going okay!

Tissues and Tea

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, flirting

A/N: Hello! Thank you for this great request. I hope you like what I made out of it. I'm doing fine, I hope you have a great rest of the week and enjoy your reading. <3

Y/N should’ve stayed home. She knows that.

But the thought of leaving Jamie Tartt to his own devices for a full day? Unsupervised? With a match coming up and at least three emails that need responses before noon? Absolutely not.

So here she is, standing outside his house, sniffling, a little wobbly on her feet, but determined. Her usual pencil skirt and blouse combo were exchanged for some jeans and a loose hoodie. She rings the doorbell and barely has time to brace herself before Jamie swings the door open, wearing—of course—nothing but gray sweatpants and a cocky grin.

"Ew, you look like death."

"Good morning to you too," she grumbles, brushing past him into the warmth of his house.

Jamie shuts the door behind her, frowning. "Nah, for real. Why d’you sound like a ninety-year-old chain-smoker?"

She ignores him, heading straight to the kitchen counter where she usually sets up her laptop. "I’m fine. Just a little cold."

Jamie narrows his eyes, watching as she unpacks her work things with shaky hands. "Right," he drawls. "And I’m fuckin’ Cristiano Ronaldo."

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her head was throbbing and she could not take any banter today. "Jamie, I’m fine."

"You’re not fine," he counters, stepping closer. "You look like you’re gonna pass out. Actually—" He pokes her arm and she loses her balance a little. "—yeah, that’s definitely wobbly behavior, love."

She swats his hand away. "I just need to get through the day, then I’ll rest."

Jamie scoffs. "Yeah, not happening." Before she can argue, he grabs her laptop and walks off with it.

"Jamie—what the hell?!" she croaks, chasing after him.

"Oi, don’t strain yourself," he teases, holding it above his head like a schoolboy dodging a playground fight. "You’re sick. Ya need to rest. And lucky for you, I’m a proper gentleman, so I’m gonna look after ya today. Call me your personal assistant."

She blinks. "You? Taking care of me?"

Jamie gasps, mock-offended. "What, ya don’t trust me?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Rude," he mutters, placing her laptop high up on a shelf, far out of her reach. He puts his hands on her shoulders and shoves her towards the living room "Now, let’s get ya on the couch, yeah?"

She knows she should fight this, but honestly? Standing for this long is exhausting. And Jamie's 50.000-pound-couch looked comfy ass hell. So, reluctantly, she lets him guide her to the couch, where he throws a ridiculously big fluffy blanket over her.

"There," he says, hands on his hips. "All cozy. Like a little babeh."

"I can’t move," she deadpans, buried under the weight of the blanket.

"Exactly." he pulls the finger-guns at her.

She glares at him, but Jamie just grins.

A beat of silence, then—

"Want some tea?"

She exhales. "That would be nice, actually."

Jamie beams, disappearing into the kitchen. A minute later, she hears cabinets slamming, the sink running, and Jamie muttering "fuckin’ hell, where’s the sugar?" under his breath.

"It's in the second cupboard on the left," Y/N shouted as loud as her croaky voice let her.

"Got it!"

When he returns, he hands her a mug with the smuggest expression. "There ya go, love. My specialty."

She takes a sip—and immediately grimaces. "Jamie."

"What?"

"This is just hot sugar water."

He frowns. "Nah, it’s tea."

"The teabag is what makes it tea..." she narrows his eyes at him. "Let me guess, you don't know where the teabags are?"

"I could put some leaves from my kitchen plant in there. Same thing, innit?" he scratches his neck embarrassed.

She sighs, setting it down. "You’re lucky I’m too weak to fight you right now."

Jamie plops down next to her, looking way too pleased with himself. "You are lucky, actually. Not everyone gets personal Jamie Tartt care."

She gives him a tired, but teasing look. "Oh, so this is an exclusive service? Where do I complain? Is there like a hotline or..."

"Hey don't get sassy with me, you booked the VIP package. Special treatment. No refunds." He smirks, then leans in a little. "Want me to tuck ya in?"

"Jamie."

"I’ll do it proper, promise. Maybe even sing ya a lullaby."

"Jamie."

His smirk widens. "Or, if ya prefer, I could be your personal hot water bottle. Y’know, for extra warmth."

"Jamie."

"What? No cuddlin' ?"

She rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch—because despite everything, he is making her feel better.

He watches her for a moment, his teasing expression softening just a little. Then, without thinking, he reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Y’know," he says quietly, thumb brushing against her temple, "you spend so much time lookin’ after me. Someone’s gotta return the favor, yeah?"

Her breath catches.

It’s the kind of moment she’s always tried to ignore—the kind where Jamie isn’t just the flirty, cocky footballer she works for, but something more. Someone who cares about her. Someone who, if she let herself believe it, might actually love her.

But she’s too tired to overthink it today.

So instead of pushing him away, she just leans into his already open arms, lets herself relax under the ridiculous blanket, and mutters, "Fine. But if you try to feed me soup, I’m leaving."

Jamie grins. "Nah, love. I’m terrible at soup."

And with that, he settles in beside her, her head on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Y/n's silent snores fill the room and Jamie sighs satisfied. Yep, he's refusing to move from this position—ever again.

#jamie tartt x y/n #roy kent #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso #sam obisanya #jamie tartt #afc richmond

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n1ght0f-nyx · 2 days ago

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Im craving Ezra content! Maybe some head canons or smth? Drink some water <3

ezra (werewolf oc!) headcanons. tags- mostly miscellaneous, some romantic headcanons, some about werewolf culture in my stories, ezra is a yandere note- in my stories, my werewolfs are described/envisioned as similar to the werewolfs from twilight, but every full moon they shift with out control, when their instincts go full drive.

Ezra is ridiculously aware of his size in werewolf form and constantly worries about accidentally stepping on small animals—or worse, you.

he has 6 siblings, four sisters two brothers

his pack is huge and based in a camp in the woods, though the young adults will leave for a year on 'missions' to learn and meet others

Even though he can shift at will, he hates doing it in front of people because it feels weirdly intimate, like getting caught mid-change in a dressing room.

He absolutely refuses to eat raw meat in wolf form. Just because his instincts say it’s fine doesn’t mean he isn’t still mentally gagging at the thought.

The full moon is his least favorite day of the month—he dreads it like someone dreads an upcoming dentist appointment.

He tries so hard to stay away from people on full moons, but if he hears your voice, even in his aggressive, uncontrollable state, something in him hesitates.

He absolutely hates hearing other werewolves talk about how much they enjoy the full moon. Why would you enjoy feeling like your brain is being hijacked?!

His werewolf hearing is too good, so he can hear bugs crawling on walls. He absolutely hates this and sometimes shifts just so his ears aren’t as sensitive.

He gets overwhelmed in crowds because all the different heartbeats and scents blur together, making him feel dizzy.

If he gets startled in werewolf form, he yelps like a puppy. It is both hilarious and kind of sad.

He’s terrified of other aggressive werewolves and tries to avoid fights at all costs—he’s a flight, not fight, kind of guy.

The pack’s elders constantly tell him to “embrace the beast within,” but Ezra would rather embrace a weighted blanket and a cup of tea.

He hates being in werewolf form in the rain because wet fur smells gross, and it takes forever to dry.

He has a tendency to whine like a dog when he’s frustrated, even in human form, which he does not realize until you point it out.

If he gets nervous while shifting back into human form, sometimes his ears or tail linger for a few seconds longer than they should. You find this hilarious.

His sketchbooks are filled with drawings of trees, animals, and—secretly—you, though he’d rather die than admit it.

He doesn’t mind hiking, but only if he has a clear escape route in case of too much nature (i.e., aggressive geese, loud squirrels, or anything that moves unpredictably).

He knits when he’s stressed. One winter, he made you a scarf, but it took him two months to work up the courage to give it to you.

He once tried woodworking but gave up when he got a splinter.

He has an entire collection of pretty rocks he’s found while walking around—he tells you he collects them for “good luck,” but really, he just thinks they look nice.

He enjoys baking but hates the pressure of people watching him bake, so he only does it when he’s alone.

He keeps a tiny notebook where he writes down cool bird facts, but he gets embarrassed if anyone finds it.

He actually loves music but gets too nervous to play in front of people, so he only practices his guitar when no one is home.

He tried reading self-help books to get over his shyness, but every time they told him to “be bold,” he immediately closed the book.

He tried foraging once but ended up bringing home a bunch of inedible plants because he thought they looked useful.

He loves rainy days because they give him the perfect excuse to stay inside with a book and avoid socializing.

Ezra startles ridiculously easily. If you walk up behind him and say his name, he will jump.

He is very self-conscious about his canine teeth being slightly sharper than normal, so he covers his mouth when he laughs.

If he gets too overwhelmed in a conversation, he just… leaves. No explanation, just a quiet exit.

He apologizes a lot, even when he’s done nothing wrong. You constantly have to tell him to stop saying sorry.

If someone flirts with him, he completely freezes, as if staying still will make him invisible.

If he gets nervous around you, his hands shake, and he desperately tries to hide it.

He is incredibly easy to bribe with food. If you give him baked goods, he will do anything for you.

He refuses to wear tight clothing because he’s paranoid about shifting and ruining his clothes.

He mumbles a lot, especially when he’s trying to get out of a conversation.

He’s a total lightweight when it comes to alcohol—one drink, and he’s done for the night.

Ezra is so awkward around you at first, avoiding eye contact and overthinking everything he says.

The first time you call him cute, his brain just completely shuts down. No thoughts, just panic.

When he starts getting more comfortable, he finds himself leaning into your touch without realising it.

He flusters so easily when you compliment him. If you say anything nice, he turns red and stammers through his response.

He gets so nervous about accidentally hurting you, especially in werewolf form. He treats you like you’re made of glass.

He constantly asks if you’re sure you want to be around someone like him. He’s not dangerous, but he’s scared of the possibility.

He unconsciously starts mirroring your habits—if you play with your sleeves when nervous, he starts doing it too.

His love language is acts of service, but he’s too shy to admit it. He’ll fix something for you or make you tea instead of saying “I love you” outright.

When you scratch behind his ears in werewolf form, he melts instantly—but gets super flustered if you mention it later.

He gets ridiculously jealous of confident people because he wishes he could be that bold around you.

He’s scared of PDA but loves subtle touches—brushing hands, leaning shoulders, or playing with the hem of your sleeve.

He has definitely, at some point, dramatically sighed and said, “I don’t deserve you,” even after youve reassured him for the 100th time.

He’s always anxious after full moons, constantly worried he might have hurt you, even if there’s no sign that anything went wrong.

Despite being shy and anxious, if anyone else makes you uncomfortable or hurts you, Ezra will actually get mad—and that is terrifying because no one ever expects it from him.

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rk80060 · 2 years ago

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DOo8ng g4eAt

CÆnt t3lL wh8ch gLitcchEs &rê my 0ld a&nd 2Hich aAre ne#

#do you want Hank? we could see Domino #get some weighted blankets on you at least #<pprev #hænK i$ gonNnA k8ll mE &gAiin

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elprupneerg · 3 months ago

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Debating telling my mom about where I get yarn. On the one hand, she’s a jerk and made it pretty clear yesterday that she wanted me and my gf to leave despite us having a pretty decent conversation with my dad. On the other hand she seemed really depressed about the craft stores near her carrying less yarn and having trouble finding clear listings on amazon describing the size/amount/washing techniques of skeins. And I hate to see a fellow crafter suffer

#she gave me 6 skeins of yarn yesterday cuz she was trying to get a gold weight 4 yarn but neither of the listings was categorized correctly #so she ended up with some doily weight yarn and some that’s labeled weight 3 but I’d call it a weight 2 #and the weight 3 one was more of a bright yellow than a gold #and neither of them can be dried in a machine. which isn’t great if you’re making someone an anniversary blanket lol #anyway if you don’t mind getting things shipped from Denmark I’ve had good luck with hobbii yarn #they’re a bit pricey for shipping but if you wait until they’ve got a sale happening and you get a bunch at once it comes out decently cheap #and their search system works really well #I do feel bad about the international shipping carbon emissions but it’s not like the amazon yarn is any better with that #and at least this one you’re not having to fuck around with ordering 5 different types of yarn to find what you want

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amaranthinespirit · 7 days ago

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insomniac!reader and I'll stay up until you fall asleep!boyfriend!simon riley

it was late into the night, the house had settled hours ago, the lights had been flicked off and the bulbs long cold. but tonight was a particularly rough night for sleep, out of all other nights, this one, for some reason, you just couldn't.

you didn't have an explanation, just like every other night, and no 'home remedies guaranteed to solve your sleep problems' had ever worked in the past. until you had met simon.

the man was similar to you, in terms of sleep patterns, as he'd stay up late into the night, unable to sleep. but his problem mostly lied with ptsd and trauma, waking up during the night and failing with being able to fall back asleep, yours lied with god knows what, not being able to fall asleep within a normal time frame. still, at least he could relate.

often, you laid in bed, staring aimlessly up at the ceiling and silently willing your eyes to droop with exhaustion and fatigue. it was fruitless. so you'd toss and you'd turn with the occasional sigh and pulling of the blanket, or throwing them off your body. eventually, it led to a low grunt from simon on the other side of the bed, either getting his warmth stolen, or nearly being suffocated by the tossed blankets, or pillows.

the sheets beside you rustled as you felt the bed dip with his weight, creaking with the shift of matter. you swallowed thickly as you felt his eyes on you, huffing out a breath as he spoke lowly, voice rough and raspy from sleep, "can't sleep with y'r eyes open, y'know."

you didn't respond, another deep sigh pulling from his lips as he pushed aside the bedding, hovering his body over yours before settling on top of you like a weighted blanket. a strained breath knocked from your lungs as you adjusted to this change.

a familiar routine when you couldn't sleep, splayed across your small (in comparison to his brutish) figure as he'd whisper sweetly in your ear, combing through your soft hair as his own eyes drooped, but refusing to fall asleep until he was sure that you had too.

even after you fell asleep, he would wait at least five to ten more minutes to ensure you stayed deep and comfortable in a safe slumber, whispering affectionately into the crevice of your neck before his words would jumble and slur together as he too fell asleep.

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circusclownproductions · 1 year ago

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seeing a lot of videos that are like “I didn’t know babies couldn’t have water” so here’s an incomplete list of things you need to know before having a baby

- the obvious, they can’t have water bc milk is incredibly high in water already so excess water leads to over hydration

- babies cannot have honey until 1

- if ur breastfeeding your kid and saving excess milk, make sure you label what you pumped in the morning vs at night bc your body produces different melatonin levels throughout the day and giving your baby daytime milk at night can make them more alert and fuck up their sleep schedule

- idk why ppl keep saying this but swaddling your babies or getting them those baby straight jacket things is not abuse. It chills them out cuz it reminds them of the womb

- babies have a dandruff like buildup on their head called cradle cap, and it’s very easy to deal with and remove with just some baby shampoo, a gentle scrub brush (MADE FOR BABIES!!) and a comb. It does need to be removed tho cuz it can be very painful after a while. This can also continue to happen late into toddlerhood it’s normal

- you have to clean out the creases of your baby’s skin and hands and feet they WILL collect dust😭😭

- you cannot bathe your baby until their umbilical cord naturally falls off. Use a warm damp rag until then

- tummy time is actually very important

- your baby might have a misshapen head at first (not all the time but sometimes) this will either sort itself out or they’ll need a corrective helmet ask your doctor

- I wouldn’t recommend having your baby leave the house very much until they’re at least 6 months old, especially if they’re born near cold and flu season cuz the common cold can kill a newborn

- you’re not an awful horrible person for having postpartum depression and it’s always a million times better to let your baby cry a few minutes longer than normal while you regain your composure than to freak out and give ur kid shaken baby syndrome

- you’re not an awful horrible person for giving your baby formula milk either

- don’t put shoes on your baby it’ll compromise their toe box and balance

- babies put every single thing in their mouths

- the easiest way to burp a baby is to hold them straight up (spine straight) and hold their head a bit higher

- always support their head they barely have necks

- if your baby fights away food, fights tummy time, vomits every single time you burp them, is gaining or losing an unreasonable amount of weight at a time, wheezes after eating, or goes red after eating, chances are they’re probably allergic to the type of milk they’re eating (again ask a doctor but these are just some signs it’s not just colic)

- they will wobble a lot when learning to do things but you gotta fight the urge to help them every single time cuz they gotta learn

- they’re not always spitting out baby food cuz they don’t like it they just don’t know how to eat. Like they don’t know how to push food down they only know how to stick their tongue out so be patient

- babies craniums are broken up into three parts at first that later fuse together, this is to help make birthing easier but it results in a small EXTREMELY sensitive spot in the top of their head that has no protection. This puts their brain at a high risk. Always protect their soft spot

- read to your baby!! Get cute bright colorful sensory books with sight words and read them to your baby it makes such a huge difference in their educational growth and will help them acquire a love for reading early on. And talk to them never shut up just say whatever comes to mind all the time this will strengthen their vocabulary growth also.

- babies poop like a lot. A lot. an unreasonable amount. Bring back up clothes and more diapers than you think

- no pillows or stuffies in the crib and only use a muslin blanket unless it’s especially cold to prevent suffocation

- babies kick reflexively until they’re out of their newborn scrunch (they stay womb shaped for a while) and if your baby is crying and pushing at the swaddle try letting them flail around for a minute

- consoling your baby is not spoiling them ! They need comfort and they will learn to self soothe on their own

- singing lullabies actually works, they can recognize your voice a consistent place of comfort from the womb and the cadence of lullabies is literally engineered to create a calm headspace

- for the love of god do not get boring ass beige toys. Colors are important for their neurological development

- babies are very responsive to praise from a young age so be as supportive of them as you can

- babies get constipated a lot and you have to do like tummy massages to help ease their pain the easiest way is to lay them on their backs and hold one foot in each hand, kick their feet like bicycles, scrunch up, and then stretch their legs out

- holding them on your hip too much will not cause bow legged-ness if your baby is bow legged that was always gonna happen

- they drool so so much and you have to get bibs for them so they don’t get chest eczema

- don’t use scented products on their skin cuz their skin is sooo much thinner than ours

- when your baby first starts sitting on their own never walk away from them without setting up a nest of pillows and blankets around them. Even minor head trauma can mess them up sometimes

- this one is kinda morbid and scary but sometimes babies just die out of nowhere and it’s no one’s fault or anything it’s called sudden infantile death syndrome(SIDS) and it’s about 1.3k deaths on average per year in America so not super common but still very real. 90% of these deaths happen during the first four months however edit: apparently it’s bc of an enzyme deficiency which at the very least you can take steps to try and prevent

- smoking and drinking during pregnancy WILL affect your baby and your breast milk and also might contribute to SIDS cases

- babies sometimes have a big red mark on them somewhere called a stork bite immediately after birth but typically it goes away

- babies can’t see very well for a while after birth and they’re VERY wobbly so they’ll typically bonk their head into your chest and face a lot while trying to support themselves

- female babies might have smth similar to a period the first few days after birth, this is because of the hormone transfer that happens during the birthing process and the days leading up to it

- male babies get random erections for the first few days after birth(hormone transfer again) literally do not be weird about this it’s a baby

- things like weaning your baby onto solid foods, potty training, weaning off pacifiers etc, can actually be directed by the baby and will happen naturally will minimal guidance from the parent(some guidance is still necessary) although I would do individual research into baby led weaning for food to prevent choking

- get those chewy feeding pouches to help with weaning

- the most random things will scare the hell out of your baby don’t take it personal 😭

- baby carriers are life savers (tulas are one of my favorites)

- once babies hit toddlerhood they’re tougher than you think, and a lot of their reaction is based on YOURS. they’re always going to be looking to you for how to react to a situation. Remain calm and if they’re ok they’ll calm down but if they’re genuinely hurt they’ll keep crying

- babies will most likely get ridiculously attached to an inanimate object and you have to keep this thing intact at all costs until they’re old enough to abandon it or they will throw a FIT. I got a lemur plushie from a zoo once and every single one of the kids has bonded their soul with it until about 6 years old and once a month I have to stitch him back up

- don’t compare yourself to other parents. Maybe your kid isnt getting grass fed wild caught north Atlantic cheerios but at least they’re fed. If your kid is alive and healthy and happy you’re doing a good job

- you will need 3 car seats, an infant seat, a grow with me toddler seat, and a booster seat

- getting a good diaper bag is a MUST

- the hair a baby is born with will most likely all fall out or they’ll get a bald spot on the back of their head where they sleep cuz their hair is so fragile and thin but once it grows back it grows back thick

- get like 20 muslin blankets so you always have a backup when the main ones are covered in spit up

- the babies grip IS stronger than yours (keep your hair up and keep pets away best you can)

- your best bet for your teething baby is a pacifier you can put your finger in so you can massage their gums and some chewing toys numbing cream can be dangerous and should be used sparingly

- go ahead and come to terms with the fact you’re gonna have to use a Frida Baby to manually remove snot

- babies can get hair and thread wrapped around their toes and fingers that can cut off their circulation try to make a habit of checking

- don’t hit your kid please it’s nothing but trauma and fucked up coping mechanisms from there pls empathize with your child they’re a person too

- be careful not to pull too hard on their arms and legs(like during play or holding their hand while they walk) and NEVER pick them up by their hands this will very easily cause dislocation

- they might have a little tooth like callous on their lip from their pacifier. This does not hurt them and it will go away but it may hurt during breastfeeding

- breastfeeding will make your boobs different sizes

Yeag that’s all I can think of rn but yk i Will add as I remember stuff ppl are also adding things I forgot in the tags in case you’d like to look thru that as well <3

#🍱#baby care #parenting #first time parents #newborn care #parenting tips #can��t think of any other exposure tags #‼️‼️‼️

11K notes · View notes

focusonkayjay · 2 months ago

Text

right here, yet so far away | oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: ceo! jungkook x kindergarten teacher! reader, exes to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 19.4k (my hands slipped girl)

Chapter Warnings: mature language, unprotected sex (pls be safe), oral (f. receiving), mentions of an accident, coma, violence (lmk if i missed anything) P.S. i know people don't just instantly recover after a long coma, but in this story it's just heavy plot armor, so kindly understand.

Playlist:

A/N: hello cuties. this is a special post in honor of me hitting 300 followers. i cant believe the immense support i have received when it's only been a week. thank you so much for consuming my work and supporting me. also please note, the text in italics are for dream sequences or flashbacks.

“But baby… please just…” Jungkook’s voice cracks as he jogs to catch up, his hand reaching out for yours. You swat it away without hesitation, the sting of rejection hitting him harder than any words ever could.

“Jungkook, stop it.” you say firmly, your tone sharp enough to cut through his soul. He freezes, his wide eyes searching yours for answers.

“But baby, just tell me why? We were doing so good… just yesterday, you... you said you loved me. Please, you can’t just... leave like this.”

He tries to observe your expression, hoping to convince himself that this is just some cruel joke. But there’s no softness in your eyes, no flicker of doubt. Only a cold, unyielding resolve.

“Don’t you understand?” you scoff, folding your arms tightly across your chest. “I’m tired of you, Jungkook. I’m tired of us.” His breath hitches, disbelief flashing across his face. “Stop. Don’t say that. You don’t… you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” you insist, each word a dagger to his heart. “I mean every word of it. I’m done with you. This whole relationship… it’s not going anywhere. It’s a waste of time, and I just… I can’t, Jungkook. We have to break up.”

His shoulders slump, and his chest rises and falls as though the air has been knocked out of him. He stands frozen, staring at you, desperate to find some hint of hesitation in your expression. But all he sees is resolve… or at least, what you’re determined to show him.

“Why?” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You stare at him blankly. "Because I don’t love you anymore.” you reply, your voice unwavering. Jungkook flinches as if struck. His lips part, but no words come out. And when you turn around and walk away, the sound of your retreating footsteps echoes in his ears, louder than any goodbye, as your body disappears into the darkness.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The shrill wail of the alarm slices through the silence, and Jungkook's eyes harshly open. He gasps for air, his chest heaving as the nightmare clings to him like a second skin.

It’s always the same nightmare. The same scene. The same words. The same look on your face. The same crushing weight in his chest.

He drags a hand down his face, the coolness of his palm doing little to soothe him. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat, and he blinks up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.

For a moment, he just sits there, the silence of his apartment wrapping around him like a cold blanket. A single tear trickles down his temple as images of you flash in his mind, one after the other. His phone buzzes on the nightstand... a reminder of the meetings and deadlines awaiting him, but he doesn’t move.

Four months. It’s been four months since you walked away, and he still doesn’t understand why.

He remembers the day of the break up like it was yesterday. The scene is so vividly planted in his mind that he even sees it in his sleep. He can’t get rid of the way you looked at him… like you despised the sight of him, like you truly didn’t love him anymore.

He still doesn’t have his answers. Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did your heart just decide it didn’t want him anymore? The questions linger in his mind, unanswered, gnawing at him like a constant ache he can’t escape.

Jungkook remains rooted on his mattress, the weight of memories pressing down on him as he recalls the first time he saw you. It was over two years ago, but when he recollects it, it feels so vivid, like it's happening in the present.

He had been reluctant to attend an event that was scheduled at a local kindergarten nearby. Exhausted from a long flight back from the States, he’d tried to get out of it. But his assistant, understanding the importance of his role as the CEO, insisted that he'd attend it regardless.

His company wasn’t just about selling food products, it was dedicated to promoting healthy living, especially for children. They organized events to educate kids on the importance of good nutrition, partnered with schools to provide nutritious meals, and created fun, interactive programs to get children excited about eating right.

Though Jungkook wasn’t keen on spending his afternoon with a room full of energetic kids, he went anyway. The workshop had already started and the moment he stepped into the classroom, ready to grab the attention of the kids, he suddenly spotted you.

You were standing at the front of the room, a soft smile on your face as you engaged with the children, laughing with them and cracking jokes. Your energy was infectious, and the way you moved with such ease around the kids made his heart skip a beat. There was something so warm and genuine about you, something that immediately drew him in.

It wasn’t just the way you looked... though you were undeniably beautiful, but how you carried yourself, the kindness that radiated from you, and how at home you seemed in this world of tiny hands and laughter. Jungkook had never been the type to believe in love at first sight, but the moment his eyes landed on you, something inside him shifted.

He had been smitten, captivated in a way he couldn’t explain. His thoughts had scattered as he watched you, his mind far from the speech he was supposed to be giving. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had captured his attention, and yet he couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t until later, when he was preparing to leave, that he finally found the courage to approach you. He had been nervous, unsure of what to say. But the moment you looked at him, a simple greeting from you was all it took.

Your smile was enough to melt any lingering doubt he had. He introduced himself, his voice slightly shaky but confident enough to make a lasting impression. And you, with that same gentle smile, responded in kind words, immediately making him feel at ease.

He had no idea at that moment that this chance encounter would change his life in the best way possible.

Now, laying in his bed, Jungkook smiles bitterly, remembering how it all started. How he had the most beautiful relationship with you for around a year and three months. How one decision, one visit to that kindergarten, led to everything he lost.

He still can't understand why you left him the way you did, without explanation, without any chance for him to fix whatever went wrong. The image of your face that day... the coldness, the finality, haunts him still.

Despite the whirlwind of thoughts clouding his mind, Jungkook forces himself to push them aside. He stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, allowing the weight of the memories to settle, before finally making the decision to get up.

He knows he can’t linger in this state forever. The day is waiting for him, and he can’t afford to let his emotions hold him back. With a sigh, he swings his legs off the bed and plants his feet firmly on the floor. The familiar coldness of the hardwood beneath his feet is grounding, and for a brief moment, he feels a sense of control over the chaos in his mind.

The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow on his room. He moves to the bathroom, running cold water over his face, hoping it will somehow shake the fog from his thoughts. It’s a futile attempt, but it’s enough to snap him into the present, if only for a few minutes.

Jungkook stares at his reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. His mind is still heavy, but he’s learned over the years to compartmentalize, especially when it comes to work. He’s the CEO and his company can’t afford to be distracted by his personal life. No matter how much his heart aches, there’s a bigger picture to focus on.

You glance at the kids, focused on their coloring books, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. They’re adorable, each one lost in their own little world, their tiny hands gripping crayons as they carefully add color to their drawings. You walk around the room, quietly observing their work, admiring the little bursts of creativity.

As you pass by the window, your gaze drifts outside, where a few children are running and playing on the soccer field. You let out a sigh, your fingers subconsciously tracing the pendant of your necklace.

It’s the only thing that connects you to him, to the one that got away, to the one you let slip right through your fingers, even when it hurt to do so. You close your eyes for a brief moment, and his image floods your mind. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled, the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence.

You miss him so badly, your chest tightening with the weight of it. But you push the feeling down, swallowing the ache in your heart. You remind yourself why it had to end, why you had to walk away. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

As you stare at the bleachers stand by the green field, a vivid and unpleasant memory creeps up your mind.

"Break up with him."

Junghyun's voice was calm, his eyes fixed on the empty soccer field ahead. The chilly evening breeze brushed past your hair, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your chest. You turned to look at him, disbelief written all over your face.

"What?" you asked, your voice carrying a mix of confusion and irritation. Junghyun was Jungkook's older brother, and his unexpected visit had left you completely on edge.

You had only met this man once before, a fleeting encounter when you accidentally bumped into him outside Jungkook’s apartment one morning. Seeing him now, unannounced at your workplace, caught you completely off guard.

"Break up with him, Y/N." he repeated, turning to face you this time. His gaze was piercing, his tone unyielding. "You know you two belong to completely separate worlds. Jungkook isn’t in love... he’s just infatuated. And frankly..." he continued, his voice dropping with disdain. "You’re nothing but a distraction."

You stared at him, your mind reeling from the audacity of his words. The traffic noise in the far distance felt like static compared to the ringing in your ears. "Are you serious right now?" you managed to say, your tone sharper than you intended.

Junghyun didn’t flinch. "I’m completely serious. Do you think this little fling of yours will lead to anything? Jungkook has responsibilities... he has a company to run, a legacy to uphold. You’re a kindergarten teacher, Y/n. A sweet girl, sure, but not someone who can keep up with him."

His words stung, but you refused to show it. "Jungkook loves me." you stated firmly, your voice unwavering. "I know how he feels about me. So whatever you’re trying to pull, it won’t work."

Junghyun scoffed, shaking his head. "Love? You call this love? He’s smitten, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last. You’ll only hold him back."

You clenched your fists, your chest tightening with frustration. Every instinct in you wanted to yell at him, to tell him how wrong he was, how little he knew about what you and Jungkook shared.

You breathed heavily, your eyes narrowing as they locked onto him. "I'm going to pretend we never had this conversation." you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil bubbling inside. Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel, stepping off the bleacher stands and ready to head back inside.

“Hanyung Hospital.” Junghyun’s voice suddenly rang out, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched, and your eyebrows furrowed as your back remained turned to him. A wave of unease settled over you, his words striking a chord you wished he hadn’t found.

“Isn’t that where your brother is admitted?” His tone was sharp, laced with a smirk you didn’t need to see to recognize.

Slowly, you turned to face him, your heart racing as panic flashed across your features. Had this man done a background check on you? Your mind reeled at the thought, fear and anger coursing through you in equal measure.

Junghyun’s smirk deepened as he saw the panic etched on your face. “Guess I know a little too much about you, sweetheart.” he said smoothly, his words dripping with a smug satisfaction.

Your fists clenched at your sides, but your voice caught in your throat. The realization that he had gone to such lengths made your skin crawl, and a sense of dread settled in your stomach.

"See, this is the problem with you lowlifes..." Junghyun sneered, his voice dripping with disrespect. "You have so many weaknesses, yet you never stop dreaming big." He let out a cruel laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement at your stunned silence.

You stared at him, your throat tightening as if the words you wanted to say were caught in a vice. "I heard he’s been in a coma for four years." he continued, his tone casual, almost mocking.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. The mention of your brother... the very core of your vulnerability, felt like a dagger twisting in your heart.

“Maybe I should make sure this coma lasts forever—”

"What?" The word burst out of you before he could finish. Panic surged through you, visible in the way your breathing quickened. Junghyun’s smirk widened, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at your reaction. He relished the fear and desperation etched across your face, feeding off the control he had over the situation.

"Leave my brother out of this." you managed to say, your voice low but firm, fists clenched tightly at your sides. "This has nothing to do with him."

You forced yourself to regulate your breathing, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions that were threatening to spill over. But deep down, you knew exactly what this man was doing. And it felt like a threat too enormous to escape.

Junghyun’s smirk only deepened, his silence more unsettling than words. It was as though he reveled in watching you squirm under the weight of his insinuations.

Your mind raced, every possible scenario flashing before you. The influence Jungkook’s family wielded wasn’t just intimidating, it was terrifying. They were rich, powerful, and connected in ways you could only imagine.

For all you knew, they could probably make someone disappear without a trace. And standing face-to-face with Junghyun, you started to think that was your chilling reality.

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with as much resolve as you could muster, but the unease in your chest lingered. You felt trapped, cornered by an enemy who knew just where to strike to hurt you the most.

"Well, sweetheart, I want to leave him out of this too..." Junghyun sighed, his tone mockingly sympathetic. "And you know exactly what you need to do for that to happen."

His words struck like a hammer, each syllable weighing heavier than the last. You felt your whole world collapsing around you, the walls closing in with no way out. You felt suffocated. Cornered. Powerless.

Your gaze dropped to your feet, tears pooling in your eyes despite your desperate attempts to hold them back. The fight within you slowly crumbled, leaving only the unbearable weight of his ultimatum.

You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fought to keep yourself composed.

"I'll break up with him." you whispered finally, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. A tear slipped down your cheek, the first crack in the dam as the reality of your surrender settled in.

Junghyun stepped down from the bleacher stands, his slow footsteps growing louder in your ears. You didn’t move, your feet rooted to the ground as if the weight of your decision had physically anchored you.

He stopped in front of you, and you felt his presence, his amusement radiating like poison. A soft laugh escaped him, sending shivers down your spine.

"Now that was easy, wasn’t it?" he mocked, patting your head like you were a child who had just followed orders. Your jaw tightened, teeth gritting at the humiliating gesture, but you remained silent.

"And this goes without saying, but... Jungkook should never hear about this encounter." Junghyun said, his voice low and taunting as he stepped closer.

You didn’t respond, your throat too tight and your mind too fogged with fear and anger to formulate a reply.

He smirked at your silence before brushing past you, deliberately bumping into your shoulder as if to remind you just how insignificant he believed you to be. The force was slight, but it felt heavier, laden with the weight of everything he’d taken away from you in the matter of mere minutes.

The chilly breeze cut through the quiet, and you felt it settle deep into your bones, a reminder of just how cold the world could be.

"Miss Choi!" a little voice pierces through the haze of your flashback, pulling you back to reality. Your eyes shift from the bleacher stands outside to the source of the voice. A little girl waves her broken color pencil in the air, her tiny face scrunched in distress.

You force a smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you walk towards her. "Give me that, let me sharpen it for you, Sera." you say softly, patting her head. She nods cutely, her eyes wide with trust and gratitude.

You exhale deeply, the weight in your chest still pressing down as you make your way to the trash can. As the sharpener scrapes against the pencil, you think to yourself. Stop dwelling on the past.

You knew how deeply you felt for Jungkook. He was more than just a fleeting love... he was a part of you, your safe place. But the weight of Junghyun's threat had been too much to bear. It wasn’t a fight you could win, not against soemone as powerful as him.

The memory of that day gnaws at you, the helplessness, the bitterness of making a decision you despised with every fiber of your being. But what choice did you have?

Handing the pencil back to Sera, you muster another soft smile. Her joyful expression tugs at your heart, a stark contrast to the storm inside you.

All you can do now is hope that Jungkook is living a happy life, far from the shadows of the truth that forced you apart.

Jungkook adjusts his position in the sleek leather chair, trying to focus on the ongoing meeting. The conference room hums with the low murmur of voices as his team discusses the logistics of their next community outreach initiative.

The large screen at the front displays a vibrant presentation, but his mind drifts, struggling to stay anchored in the moment.

“Mr. Jeon.” Eunwoo, the Chief Operating Officer, speaks up, pulling him back to reality. “We’re finalizing the details for the event at the Sunflower Orphanage this weekend.” he says, his tone calm but purposeful.

“It’s part of our ‘Healthy Futures’ program.” Eunwoo continues, “Where we teach the kids about nutrition and provide them with tools to build healthier habits.”

Jungkook nods, his jaw tightening slightly. He taps his pen against the notepad in front of him, the blank page mirroring his lack of focus. “Good. Ensure we send enough materials for the interactive sessions. I’ll review the activity plans later today.”

Eunwoo presses on. “We’re also organizing a cooking demonstration for the older kids and distributing care packages with nutritious snacks and recipe guides. It might be a good idea for you to attend. I think the kids would really enjoy meeting you.”

Jungkook exhales softly, running a hand through his hair. Public appearances at these events are part of his responsibility, something he takes seriously. Yet, the thought of being surrounded by bright-eyed children feels heavier than usual, a strange weight pressing against his chest.

“I’ll check my schedule.” he replies, his tone measured, masking the unease he can’t quite shake.

As the meeting concludes, Jungkook steps out of the conference room, loosening his tie as he makes his way towards his office. The familiar click of shoes on the polished floor follows close behind, signaling his secretary, Jimin, is trailing him.

“Your schedule is free, Mr. Jeon.” Jimin remarks, a teasing edge in his voice. “It’s literally the weekend.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, letting out a long sigh. “I know, but I just don’t feel like going.” he mutters, his stride purposeful as he heads towards his cabin.

Jimin quickens his pace to match Jungkook’s, his tone light but persistent. “The kids would love it, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s your responsibility.”

Jungkook groans inwardly, knowing there’s no winning an argument when Jimin uses that reasoning. “Fine.” he relents, glancing over his shoulder with a pointed glare. “But... you’re coming with me.”

“Of course.” Jimin quips with a smirk, unfazed. “I go wherever my boss goes.”

Jungkook shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself, before pushing open the door to his cabin. “You’re insufferable.” he mutters, disappearing inside. Jimin grins to himself, adjusting his tie. “It’s part of the job.” he mutters quietly before heading back to his desk.

The familiar scent of antiseptic and faint floral air freshener envelops you as you step into the hospital. You glance around, taking in the sight of doctors briskly walking in their white coats, nurses tending to charts, and patients navigating the lobby with family members by their sides. The soft hum of conversations and the occasional beep of monitors create a somber yet steady rhythm.

You make your way to the reception desk, offering a small smile to the woman behind the counter. Her face lights up with recognition.

“You’re early today.” she notes gently. You nod, your expression soft. “I just missed Beomgyu.” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. She smiles warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. “Go ahead.” she says, motioning towards the elevator.

You thank her with a brief smile before turning and stepping into the elevator, pressing the button to take you to the floor where your brother’s room is.

The soft chime of the elevator brings you back to reality as the doors slide open. You walk down the familiar corridor, each step feeling heavier as you approach his room. Pushing the door open, your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on Beomgyu. His motionless body lies on the bed, the faint hum of medical equipment the only sign of life. Four years. It’s been four long years, and he hasn’t moved an inch.

You sit down in the chair next to his bed, your hands trembling as you reach for his. His hand is cold in yours, and the weight of it brings tears to your eyes. But you blink them away, determined to stay strong.

“Hey, Gyu.” you whisper, brushing your thumb gently over his knuckles. Your voice is soft, filled with a bittersweet mix of hope and sorrow. “I’m here.”

No matter how many times you see him like this, it never gets easier. Each visit feels like a fresh wound, a new wave of pain crashing over you. He was your only family and the sight of his still body, the steady beep of the monitor, and the faint rise and fall of his chest... it all feels both familiar and unbearable. Every time, it’s as if a tiny piece of your heart breaks all over again.

As you stare at his face, a sigh escapes your lips, heavy with the weight of countless unshed tears. "Gyu..." you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "It’s getting so hard." Your words falter, carried by the quiet hum of the machines that have become the soundtrack of his existence.

"No matter what I do... I just... I just can’t stop thinking about him." you confess, closing your eyes as the first tear escapes, tracing a slow, burning path down your cheek. Your grip on Beomgyu’s hand tightens, your thumb brushing over his knuckles in slow, rhythmic motions. Though his hand remains lifeless, you hold on as if it’s your last tether to sanity, as if somehow he can feel your anguish.

Maybe he hears me, you think, clinging to the hope that keeps you returning to this room day after day. "I miss him so much." you murmur, your voice cracking under the weight of those words. The sob that escapes your lips feels like a betrayal, exposing just how deeply the pain has taken root.

Beomgyu never met Jungkook... yet, in your heart, you know that if he ever did... he would have absolutely loved him.

You remember that one day you brought Jungkook here, to visit Beomgyu, his hand firmly holding yours as you led him down these sterile hallways.

He had sat beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your trembling frame, as you told him about the accident that had stolen Beomgyu’s vibrant spirit and left him in this suspended state. Jungkook’s presence had been an anchor that day, steady and reassuring, his soft murmurs giving you the courage to speak through your tears.

And then, there was that promise. You can still hear your own voice, shaky but determined, as you looked into Jungkook’s eyes. "When Beomgyu wakes up, you’ll be the first to know." The memory feels like a lifetime ago, a fragment of a world where hope felt tangible and love wasn’t wrapped in layers of regret.

Now, that promise lingers like a ghost, haunting you with its impossibility. The weight of it presses against your chest, suffocating in its quiet accusation.

You lower your head, your tears falling silently onto the sterile sheets, wishing for a reality where things could have been different... where Beomgyu would wake up, and Jungkook would still be yours to call.

After spending about forty minutes sitting by your brother’s side, you feel the weight of time press down on you. With a reluctant sigh, you lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his cool forehead. The stillness of the room wraps around you like an unwanted embrace, amplifying the ache in your chest.

You stand, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him, his face so serene yet painfully distant. Finally, you force yourself to turn away, the sharp pull of grief hurting you even as your feet carry you towards the door.

The hospital hallways stretch before you, illuminated by fluorescent lights that feel too bright for the heaviness clouding your heart. The muted chatter of families and nurses echoes faintly around you, but you tune it out, your focus on the floor ahead.

Every step feels heavy, yet familiar... grief walking alongside you like an old companion. You’re lost in thought, your mind lingering on memories you can't quite hold onto, when the sharp ring of your phone jolts you back to the present.

You pause, fishing the device out of your bag. The name on the screen makes a faint smile touch your lips. "Hey, Joonie." you greet, your tone soft but warm.

“Oh my god Y/N...Hi... where have you been?” Namjoon’s voice filters through, steady yet tinged with his usual concern. “I was just visiting Beomgyu.” you reply, stepping into the elevator as the doors slide open.

“Ah...” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a gentler note. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

“No, not at all.” you assure him, leaning against the elevator wall. “I was just about to leave anyway. What’s up?” There’s a slight pause on the other end before he continues talking. “I wanted to check if you’re coming to the orphanage this weekend. You know... for the volunteering session.”

The mention of the orphanage brings a warmth to your chest. Your lips curve into a genuine smile as you think of the place that’s come to feel like a second home. “Of course I’ll be there.” you reply without hesitation.

“That's great!!” Namjoon says, a hint of relief in his tone. “Mrs. Lee mentioned there’s going to be some kind of workshop for the kids, though I’m not really sure what it’s about.”

You hum thoughtfully, stepping out of the elevator as it dings open on the ground floor. “A workshop? That sounds interesting. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what it's about.” you muse, the faint hum of curiosity threading through your voice.

Namjoon chuckles lightly. “Yeah, seems like it. Anyways, you get home safe, Y/N-ah. I'll see you on the weekend.” he says. “See you Joonie... Bye.” you reply, your smile lingering as the call ends.

As you slip your phone back into your bag and step into the cool evening air, a quiet sense of purpose washes over you. The orphanage, specifically, the Sunflower Orphanage, holds a deeply rooted place in your heart.

It’s not just a building, it’s a chapter of your life, a part of your story written alongside your brother, Beomgyu as the two of you grew up there and navigated a world that often felt too vast and too indifferent.

Volunteering there every weekend for the past month with Namjoon hasn’t just been about giving back to the place that shaped you, it’s become a way to honor the struggles you and Beomgyu once faced.

It’s a way of making peace with the past while helping to build a brighter future for the children still living it. The act of helping others has started to feel like a balm for your soul, a small piece of healing in a journey that has felt insurmountable at times.

More than that, it’s helped you stay busy, distracted, keeping your mind from wandering too often to the void that has been lingering in your life for the past four months, an emptiness you’re not ready to confront fully yet.

Every smile from the kids, every hug, every story they share with you reminds you why you’ve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.

Now, being able to follow your dream and also volunteer at the very orphanage you grew up in, doing your best to give these children the care and love you once longed for, feels profoundly rewarding.

There’s a bittersweet comfort in walking the same halls you once did, now as a volunteer instead of a resident. You find joy in helping the kids paint their dreams on blank canvases, in reading stories that spark their imaginations, and in simply being a presence they can rely on.

The Orphanage, with its chipped walls and resilient spirit, has become more than a part of your history... it’s a part of your healing, too.

Saturday

"Shit, shit." you mutter under your breath, hastily paying the cab driver before dashing towards the entrance of the orphanage. You were supposed to be here early today, especially since you knew there was a workshop planned for the kids.

Mrs. Lee had mentioned needing help with the setup and cleanup, and you’d eagerly offered. But luck hadn’t been on your side. First, your original cab broke down, forcing you to find another. Then, traffic decided to conspire against you, dragging out what should’ve been a quick journey into an agonizing wait.

As you ran up the steps at the entrance, slightly out of breath, your eyes catch on something that brings you to an abrupt halt. A large banner hangs above the double doors, bold letters printed across it. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.

“No way...” you whisper, realization dawning like a bucket of ice water poured over your head as you read the banner. “This is… Jungkook’s workshop?”

You stand frozen, trying to process what you’re seeing. The placards stationed around the entrance leave no room for doubt. Each one bears the unmistakable logo of his company. The presentation materials stacked neatly by the door, the branded posters, and even the staff moving equipment inside all scream his involvement.

You inhale sharply, the air catching in your throat. Of course, it had to be here. Of all the orphanages in the city, the one you’ve been volunteering at for the past month had to be the very place where Jungkook... your ex boyfriend, Jungkook... is hosting a workshop. The universe really has a twisted sense of humor sometimes.

“Fuck.” you mutter, closing your eyes and trying to calm the storm brewing in your chest. You press a hand against the doorframe to steady yourself, taking deep breaths to fight off the anxiety creeping up your spine.

Your mind races with questions you’re not sure you want answers to. Is he here? Or is this one of those events where his employees take the lead while he stays behind the scenes? Should you turn around and leave before anyone notices, or would that make things worse?

You glance back at the cab, still idling by the curb. For a fleeting second, the idea of jumping back in and leaving tempts you. But then you hear the sound of children’s laughter filtering through the open doors, mingling with the excited chatter of the staff, and you know you can’t just leave.

Bracing yourself, you take another deep breath and step inside, your heart pounding harder with each step. The familiar warmth of the orphanage wraps around you, but today it feels heavier, tinged with the tension you’re carrying. You repeat a silent mantra, trying to ground yourself. Stay professional. This is about the kids. Nothing else matters.

“I’ll just… I’ll just pretend I don’t know him.” you mutter under your breath, nodding to yourself as your footsteps echo in the hallway.

As you step into the bustling main hall, your eyes land on Namjoon almost immediately. The minute he spots you too, it doesn’t take long for him to weave his way through the crowd towards you, his expression a mix of shock and concern. “Y/N…” he begins, his voice low but urgent as he reaches you. “I had no idea this was going to be his workshop.” The disbelief in his tone mirrors your own feelings.

You throw your head back, a groan escaping your lips. “I know. What the hell am I supposed to do? Is he really here, though? Or is it just his team running the workshop?” you ask, a flicker of hope creeping into your voice as you glance at him.

Namjoon hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he’s trying to cushion the blow. “Unfortunately…” he starts, his tone apologetic. “He’s here. I just saw him talking to Mrs. Lee a few minutes ago.” You close your eyes, rubbing your temples. “This is so, so, so not fair.” you mutter, your frustration bubbling over.

“Hey…” Namjoon’s voice softens as he places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. His calm presence is like an anchor in the midst of your swirling emotions. “You’re going to be fine. I know breaking up with him was hard for you, but right now... the best you can do is just stay professional. Pretend like you don’t know him and I’m sure he won’t approach you… I hope.” he adds with a small, uncertain smile.

You let out a shaky sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. Namjoon’s logic makes sense, but it does little to calm the storm brewing inside you. “I haven’t seen him in four months, Joon.” you admit, your voice shaky. “And now, of all times, I have to see him? Here?”

Namjoon offers you a sympathetic look, his hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “I know it’s hard, but I know you’ve got this. Just try your best to avoid him.”

You nod slowly, though you’re far from convinced. This isn’t a situation you can simply walk away from. Jungkook’s presence is inevitable now, and the thought of seeing him again, after everything, sends a whirlwind of emotions crashing through you.

You're aware Jungkook won't be expecting to see you here today and you can't help but wonder what his reaction will be when he actually ends up seeing you. Would his expression shift the moment he spots you? Would it be one of cold indifference, barely a flicker of acknowledgment? Or something sharper like anger, disappointment, perhaps even sadness? The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

Shaking your head, you force yourself to brush the questions aside. There’s no time to dwell on this right now. You take a steadying breath and look around the busy hall. It’s high time you start helping out. After all, you’re already late, and the least you can do is make up for lost time by pitching in wherever you’re needed.

Once all the kids are settled in their seats, their excitement bubbling over in the form of giggles and whispers, you step back, making your way to the back of the room. Namjoon is already there, his arms crossed loosely as he leans against the wall. You take your place beside him, exhaling deeply, trying to calm your heart and mind.

As the workshop begins, your eyes inevitably drift to the front of the room. Jungkook stands there, effortlessly commanding attention. He’s dressed sharply but casually, the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt exposing his tattooed forearm. His presence is magnetic, and it’s no surprise that even the youngest kids are riveted as he begins to speak.

“This program is called 'Healthy Futures'.” he starts, his tone warm and inviting. “It’s about giving you the knowledge and tools to take care of your health. Eating the right food, staying active, and understanding how to take care of your bodies... it’s not just important now, but it’ll help you for years to come.”

He gestures to a large poster board displaying colorful illustrations of fruits, vegetables, and simple meal plans. “Today, we’ll talk about nutrition, and we’ll even have some fun activities to show you how to make smart food choices. You’ll see how easy it can be to make meals that are both delicious and good for you.”

The kids are wide-eyed, soaking up every word. Jungkook’s ability to connect with them is undeniable. As he dives into the presentation, explaining concepts in simple, engaging terms and peppering his talk with questions to keep the kids involved, a small smile tugs at your lips.

You watch as he crouches down to a child’s level, handing them a flashcard and encouraging them to name the food group it belongs to. The way his eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm when the child gets it right is a sight that momentarily softens the ache in your chest.

You can’t help but smile, even if it’s bittersweet. Seeing him like this... passionate, caring, and entirely in his element... reminds you of the man you fell in love with. His natural charm, the way he effortlessly makes others feel seen and valued, is just as captivating now as it was then.

Namjoon nudges you gently. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low. You nod again, your gaze fixed on Jungkook. “Yeah.” you whisper, though the lump forming in your throat makes it a struggle to get the word out. “I’m fine.” you say.

As Jungkook wraps up his talk, his voice is steady and warm, a reflection of the effort he’s poured into making this workshop meaningful. “Alright, kids, now it’s time for the fun part...” he announces with a grin.

“My team is going to help you make a simple, healthy snack, something delicious and easy that you can make yourselves... so follow them and they'll guide you through the process." he says.

The children erupt in cheers and applause, their excitement echoing through the hall. Jungkook’s smile widens at their enthusiasm, the earlier reluctance he felt about being here melting away.

It’s moments like these that make everything worth it. Seeing their faces light up is a reward far greater than any professional accolade.

As the kids begin to disperse, following the other employees out of the hall, Jungkook takes a moment to glance around, his eyes scanning the room to take in the atmosphere. And then he suddenly sees you.

Jungkook lips part as he watches you intently, his eyes trailing as you exchange words with Namjoon before following him out of the room. His throat feels dry, his mind reeling.

She's… here? The words echo in his head as his heart pounds erratically against his ribcage.

He gulps, trying to steady himself, but the unexpected sight of you has thrown him completely off balance. Before he can fully process his spiraling thoughts, Jimin’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Mr. Jeon, shall we?” he prompts, his tone professional but gentle, unknowingly grounding Jungkook back to the present. He blinks, nodding faintly as he forces his legs to move, trailing behind his secretary towards the activity room.

But just when he enters the activity room, what he doesn't expect is for you to be the first person he sees. You’re standing just a few feet away, holding a precarious stack of trays to distribute it among the kids. Your focus is elsewhere, until your eyes suddenly meet his. The world tilts for a moment as your face registers a mix of shock and disbelief.

The impact of seeing him here, so close, sends a jolt through you. Your grip falters, and before you can stop it, the trays slip from your hands, the clattering sound echoing through the room as everything scatters across the floor.

The kids go silent, their chatter replaced by a stunned hush as all eyes turn towards you. The embarrassment and panic that flood your system make your skin prickle, but before you can even begin to move, Jungkook is already in front of you.

“Are you... are you okay?” His voice is low, concerned, his hands gently closing over yours as if to steady you. His touch is firm yet hesitant, and the warmth of his palms against your skin sends a shiver through you.

You can barely process his words, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you struggle to respond. The way he’s looking at you... those familiar dark eyes filled with a mixture of worry and something deeper, makes it impossible to think straight.

“I uhhh... I’m fine.” you finally stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Your cheeks burn as you quickly try to pull your hands back, but he doesn’t let go immediately. His fingers linger for a second longer than necessary, as if he’s reluctant to lose the contact.

Namjoon, having watched the entire scene unfold, clears his throat as he approaches. “Y/N, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, his tone gentle yet purposeful, as if trying to diffuse the tension.

“I’m fine.” you repeat, louder this time, forcing yourself to look away from Jungkook as you pull your hand away from his and focus on the mess on the floor. You crouch down, starting to pick up the scattered trays, desperate to avoid his eyes. Namjoon joins you without a word, but you can feel Jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you.

Jimin steps forward, clearly confused by the sudden commotion. “Mr. Jeon, should we...” he starts, glancing between Jungkook and the scene before him, but Jungkook barely acknowledges him. His focus is solely on you, his mind racing as he tries to process everything.

For Jungkook, this moment feels surreal. He hadn’t prepared himself for seeing you... not here, not like this. And now, with you so close yet seemingly so far, the weight of everything unsaid between you presses down on him like a tidal wave.

He wants nothing more than to just hold you, to pull you close and take in every detail of your face. These four months have been nothing short of hell, filled with an unrelenting ache for your presence.

But as he watches you so obviously avoiding him, he feels rooted to the spot, his mind scrambling to find the right words... words that refuse to come out.

Once the kids are fully immersed in their activity, you quietly slip out of the room, desperate for a moment to catch your breath. The weight of Jungkook’s presence had pressed on you relentlessly for the past twenty minutes, his gaze a constant reminder of the unresolved emotions between you two. Each stolen glance felt like it peeled back layers of the wall you’d carefully built around yourself.

The hallway is quiet as you walk towards the large window at the far end, your footsteps muffled against the polished floor. You pause there, gazing out at the orphanage’s small garden, the scene outside blurring as your mind spins.

Your fingers find the pendant hidden beneath your sweater, and you begin to fidget with it, the familiar texture grounding you. This pendant, this tiny piece of jewelry, holds a weight of its own, a connection to a past that feels both distant and ever-present.

Seeing Jungkook up close had hit you harder than you expected. He hadn’t changed. He was still just as beautiful, still radiated that quiet warmth that had always drawn people to him. The same warmth you’d once found comfort in.

And you missed him... God, you missed him in a way that made your chest ache. But that only made it worse. Because you couldn’t let yourself fall apart, not now, not when you had to face him. You’re so lost in thought that the sound of a familiar voice startles you.

“Y/n.”

Your body tenses instantly. You don’t turn, your fingers reflexively tucking the pendant back beneath your sweater as if it’s some fragile secret you need to protect. You stay facing the window, your breaths shallow as you try to steady your heartbeat.

“You… won’t even look at me?” Jungkook's voice is soft, hesitant, but the pain in it cuts through you like a blade. You bite your lip, your eyes still fixed on the view outside, but all you can feel is him. The rawness of his words sinks into you, heavy and unshakable.

“Y/n…” His voice comes again, quieter this time, almost breaking. It’s not just a name... it’s a plea, one you wish you could ignore but know you can’t.

You hate this. You hate that Jungkook, of all people... the kindest, most selfless soul you’ve ever known... is standing here now, burdened by the pain you caused him. You hate that you’re the one who turned his world upside down. And yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to face him.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you turn to face him. Your expression is blank, a carefully constructed mask. “What?” The word comes out cold, clipped, and you instantly regret the sharpness of your tone.

Jungkook’s gaze softens as he studies you, his dark eyes tracing the contours of your face. You still look the same... still breathtaking, still the person he fell hopelessly in love with. But there’s something different too, a guardedness that wasn’t there before, a distance he doesn’t know how to bridge.

“How… how have you been? It’s been a while.” he says softly, his voice laced with hesitation as he takes a tentative step closer.

“I’m fine.” The words come quickly, too quickly, as if you’re desperate to end this conversation before it can even begin. You don’t meet his gaze for long, your eyes flicking away like you’re afraid of what he might see.

Every second in his presence feels like an eternity, the weight of the emotions swirling between you both, suffocating. You can’t do this. Not now, not like this. The effort of keeping your face neutral, of pretending you don’t feel the same pull towards him that you always have... it’s too much.

Without another word, you move to step past him, your focus solely on the hallway ahead. But before you can escape, his hand reaches out, catching your wrist. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, halting you in your tracks.

“Wait.” he says, his voice quiet but firm. There’s a vulnerability in his tone that makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped gently around your wrist. It’s almost unbearable... how much harder this is than you’d expected. Having him so close, right there behind you, stirs emotions you’ve fought tirelessly to suppress.

Slowly, you turn over your shoulder, finally meeting his eyes. The intensity in them is overwhelming, a deep sea of emotions you can’t bring yourself to name. They hold so much... questions, pain, longing and you feel a lump rise in your throat as you let out a shaky breath.

“Let me go, Jungkook.” you say quietly, your voice steadier than you feel. You try to tug your wrist free, but his grip tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you rooted in place.

“I didn’t expect to see you here…” he says softly, his voice low and filled with something you can’t quite place. He’s ignoring your plea, but there’s no malice in it, only hesitation, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. “I’m volunteering.” you reply flatly, forcing the words out without a hint of emotion. “And I need to go.” you add, your tone clipped as you yank your wrist out of his hold.

This time, he lets you go, his hand falling to his side as he watches you stride away from him as fast as you can manage. You don’t dare look back, even as you feel his gaze linger on you, burning into your retreating figure. Your heart pounds with each step, your emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface, but you don’t stop. You can’t.

You barge into the restroom, letting the door shut heavily behind you. The cool air does nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. Instantly, your hands fly up to cover your face, a desperate attempt to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.

Your chest heaves as you fight against the tears that burn at the edges of your eyes, your palms pressing against your cheeks as if holding yourself together. But it’s futile. The weight of seeing him again... his voice, his touch, the unspoken pain in his eyes, comes crashing down on you all at once.

A strangled breath escapes your lips, and you lean against the sink for support. Your fingers grip the edge of the cold porcelain as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, your blurred vision making it hard to focus.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” you whisper to yourself, your voice breaking. Your tears fall freely now, streaking down your cheeks as the emotions you’ve bottled up for months finally spill over. The ache of his presence, the agony of your unresolved feelings... it’s all too much.

You press a trembling hand against your chest, trying to steady the harsh pounding of your heart. For a moment, you close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you attempt to compose yourself. But the pain lingers, sharp and unrelenting.

The workshop winds down, the chatter of children and clinking of utensils slowly fading into the background. You’ve spent the entire afternoon and evening carefully maneuvering to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, your heart in a constant state of unease.

Every glance he threw your way, every fleeting moment you felt his presence nearby, only made the weight in your chest heavier.

By the time the clock strikes 8, exhaustion has seeped into your bones, not just from the work but also from the emotional toll of the day. Mrs. Lee thanks you warmly as you help her finish setting up dinner. Namjoon remains by your side, quiet but supportive, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of your thoughts.

“You did great today.” he murmurs softly as you both step out of the main hall, his tone gentle. You offer him a faint smile, appreciating his effort to lighten your mood, but the turmoil inside you is too heavy to shake off completely.

Finally, you decide it’s time to leave. Walking down the stairs by the entrance, you feel the cool evening breeze brush against your cheeks. You glance up at the darkening sky, the stars peeking through faintly, their distant glow a stark contrast to the storm swirling within you.

Pulling your coat tighter around you, you fix your bag on your shoulder and bury your hands in your pockets. The thought of going home to the solace of your quiet living room, sappy rom-coms, and a tub of ice cream feels like the only reprieve you’ll get tonight.

As you reach the bus stop, you take a seat on the cold bench, staring at the empty road ahead. The world around you feels quiet and still, yet your mind is an undying chaos. Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook... his voice, his touch, the way his eyes silently pleaded with you earlier and just how much you miss him.

You sigh heavily, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. The ache of seeing him again lingers like a ghost, refusing to leave you be.

As you attempt to gather your thoughts, the soft hum of an approaching engine disrupts your reverie. Your head lifts instinctively, and before you can process it, a sleek car pulls to a stop right in front of you. The headlights cast a gentle glow on the empty road, but it’s the sight of the driver that makes your breath hitch.

Your lips part in surprise, your brows furrowing as the window rolls down. There he is, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“Y/n.” Jungkook calls softly, his voice carrying over the quiet evening. You sigh, a mix of frustration and weariness bubbling within you. Without a word, you stand, shifting your gaze to the left, hoping to catch sight of the bus that feels agonizingly far from arriving.

“Y/n, it’s late. Let me drop you home.” Jungkook says, his tone gentle but insistent. Your heart stumbles at the offer, the thought of being alone with him sending your nerves into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself... not with how raw and exposed you feel after today. So, you do what you’ve been doing all afternoon. You ignore him.

Fixing your gaze on the road ahead, you refuse to acknowledge him. “Y/n, please…” His voice softens, almost breaking. You clench your jaw, the plea digging into you, forcing you to glance at him. “Just go, Jungkook.” you snap flatly, your tone colder than you intended.

Jungkook’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as your words hit him like a blow. He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving you. “I’ll just drop you home. Please, it’s not safe this late.” he persists, his determination unwavering.

You shake your head, muttering under your breath as you start walking down the pavement, each step heavier than the last. But Jungkook, true to his nature, doesn’t back down so easily.

The car begins to crawl forward, matching your pace as you walk. His persistence is both frustrating and heartbreaking. You can feel his gaze through the window, silently urging you to stop, to listen, to look at him.

“Y/n.” he calls out again, his voice tinged with desperation. Your chest tightens as you quicken your steps, hoping to outrun the storm of emotions brewing within you. But no matter how far you walk, Jungkook is right there, his car trailing you like a shadow, refusing to let you go.

The sound of the car suddenly stopping and the door opening breaks through the rhythm of your footsteps, and you stiffen. You don’t turn around, determined to maintain your resolve, but then you feel it... a firm yet gentle hand gripping your arm, spinning you around effortlessly.

Your eyes widen as you find yourself face-to-face with Jungkook, the intensity in his gaze pinning you in place. His breath is uneven, as if he’s been chasing you, though he hasn’t. “Please.” he says, his voice raw and pleading. “Just let me drop you home. That’s literally all I’m asking.”

His words hang heavy between you, and for a moment, you close your eyes, exhaling sharply. His persistence is unrelenting, and deep down, you know your bus isn’t arriving anytime soon to save you from this situation.

You pull your arm free from his grasp, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you step back. Without meeting his gaze, you walk towards his car, your resolve cracking under the weight of exhaustion and inevitability.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you settle into the cold leather with a resigned sigh, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. He'll just drop me home, you convince yourself as you don’t look at him, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

Jungkook quietly gets back into the driver’s seat, his movements careful as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence that now envelops the two of you. The hum of the engine rises again, but neither of you say anything, the tension stretching thin as the car begins to move.

As Jungkook drives, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road fills the car, but the silence between you feels louder, heavier. Your gaze remains fixed outside the window, the passing streetlights casting fleeting glows across your face. Your hands clutch your purse tightly on your lap, a silent anchor to steady your racing emotions.

The stillness is suddenly broken by his voice, soft but heavy with restraint. “So… how have you been?” he asks, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

You don't answer. You don’t move. You don’t flinch. Your determination to stay silent grows stronger as you think about the consequences of letting him back into your life. The jagged edges of your reality press against you like shards of glass.

“Y/n…” he calls out again, his voice gentler this time, but still, you keep your gaze fixed outside, ignoring the crackling tension in the air.

He exhales audibly, the pain in his voice more evident now. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in four months... and now you’re here, but you’re acting like I don’t even exist.” His words tremble, and you feel the sharp sting of guilt twisting in your chest.

“You’re right here.” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But why do you feel so far away?”

Your lips tighten into a thin line, and your grip on your purse grows tighter. You can feel his eyes on you, searching, pleading, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “Are you really not going to talk to me… at all?” he asks, his voice breaking slightly at the end.

Jungkook glances at your side profile, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he fights to hold himself together. The hurt in his chest feels unbearable, a weight pressing harder with every second of your silence.

He’s done his best to come to terms with your absence, with the breakup, even when the harsh reasons you gave felt like flimsy walls hiding something bigger. But now, sitting this close to you and being treated like a stranger, it cuts deeper than he expected.

“You know what…” Jungkook suddenly mutters under his breath, and though you hear the shift in his tone, you don’t move, don’t react. But then the car swerves abruptly, jerking to the left. Your head snaps towards him, eyes wide with shock as you clutch the handlebar above your seat.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, your heart hammering as you notice the road signs signaling that he’s no longer heading towards your neighborhood.

“I can’t do this anymore.” he says, his voice firm but tinged with exhaustion. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and his foot presses harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding up.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?? Slow down !!” you demand, trying to mask the panic creeping into your voice. “We need to talk.” he states simply, his eyes focused on the road ahead as if there’s nothing else in the world but his determination.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind races. “Jungkook, turn the car around.” you say firmly, though your voice wavers slightly.

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, his jaw tightens, and the speed of the car increases further, the scenery outside blurring. Then it hits you... he’s heading in the direction towards his place.

“Jungkook…” you begin, your voice softer now, a mixture of anger and disbelief.

He doesn’t answer this time, his silence carrying more weight than words ever could. His gaze remains locked forward, the muscles in his jaw ticking as if he’s trying to rein in the storm brewing within him.

You glance outside, feeling both trapped and helpless. Every instinct in you screams to argue, to demand that he stops, but a part of you... a small, stubborn part wonders what he’s so desperate to say.

After 10 tense minutes of silence, the car finally comes to a halt in front of Jungkook's building. He doesn’t waste a second, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind him. You watch him from the corner of your eye, your hands still gripping the purse on your lap, as he strides purposefully to your side of the car.

Before you can even process what’s happening, he pulls the door open, and the chill of the night air sweeps over you, making you shiver. He leans down slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with an unrelenting determination that sends your heart racing.

“Come with me.” he says, his voice steady but soft as he extends a hand towards you. You stare at his hand, conflicted, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. You feel cornered, unable to escape this situation he’s forced you into.

“Jungkook…” you begin, but the words catch in your throat. He sighs, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if the plea in your voice strikes a chord in him. But before you can say anything else, he gently grabs your wrist. The touch is soft, hesitant, but there’s an urgency to his movements as he guides you out of the car.

You stumble slightly, your body still resistant, but he steadies you with a firm yet careful grip. He’s desperate, you can see it in the way his brows furrow, the way his lips press into a thin line as if he’s barely holding himself together. “Jungkook, I...” you breathe out, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“Just… please.” he interrupts, his voice raw with emotion. “I just wanna talk.... Please.”

His eyes search yours, and you can feel the ache in them, the unspoken pain he’s been carrying. Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you’re frozen, unable to say no, unable to pull away. He doesn’t give you a chance to argue further, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he gently but firmly leads you towards his house.

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of the moment heavy in the air as you reluctantly follow him.

As Jungkook shuts the door to his apartment, the click echoes in the silence. He turns to face you, his eyes soft but piercing, like he’s searching for something he’s desperate to find.

“Y/n.” he says, your name rolling off his tongue like a plea.

You try to avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but at him, but then his hands come up to cup your face, his warmth grounding you in a way that sends a pang through your chest. His touch is gentle, yet insistent, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Y/n, please.” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “Just talk to me.”

Your breath hitches, and you instinctively step back, only to feel the cool, unyielding wall against your back. You’re cornered... literally and emotionally... and the weight of the moment bears down on you.

Your emotions, so carefully locked away, begin to bubble to the surface. Anger, regret, frustration, they all swirl together, threatening to consume you. Gritting your teeth, you grab his wrists and pull his hands away from your face.

“Just leave me alone.” you choke out, your voice breaking. The tears that have been fighting to escape finally spill over, cascading down your cheeks. Before you know it, you’re sobbing uncontrollably, your body trembling as the dam holding back your emotions shatters.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock as he watches you unravel before him. His heart clenches painfully at the sight of your tears, the sound of your sobs cutting through him like a knife. He steps closer instinctively, his hands hovering uncertainly as if unsure whether to comfort you or give you space.

“Y/n…” he begins, his voice soft and hesitant, but you shake your head violently, interrupting him.

“You can’t do this, Jungkook.” you cry out, your voice trembling with frustration. “After everything I did to cut you off… you can’t just... just pull me back like this.”

Your words hit him like a blow, and he takes a shaky step back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Do you think this is easy for me?” he finally says, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to pull you back, Y/n. But how am I supposed to let you go when I don’t even understand why you left?”

His words hang in the air, and you stare at him through your blurry vision, your heart pounding as his pain intertwines with yours. You’re both standing on the edge of a precipice, the weight of your shared history threatening to pull you under.

The air between you feels heavy, thick with emotions neither of you can control anymore. Jungkook’s gaze locks onto your tear-streaked face, his breathing shallow as he watches the pain and turmoil in your eyes. Something inside him snaps, and before he can stop himself, he takes a step forward, closing the distance between you.

His hands cradle your face, trembling slightly, as he leans in and harshly presses his lips against yours. It’s desperate, unrestrained, and raw. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, your breath hitching as his lips move against yours, pouring every unspoken word, every unanswered question into the kiss.

Your eyes flutter shut, and for a moment, your mind is overwhelmed by the flood of memories... his laugh, his touch, the way he used to make you feel like you were the only person that mattered. But as much as the kiss ignites a fire inside you, your tears don’t stop.

Jungkook feels the wetness of your tears against his palms, and it pulls him back abruptly. He steps away, his face etched with regret and panic, as if realizing he may have crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

“I... I’m sorry.” he stammers, his voice shaking as he searches your face. “I shouldn’t have—”

Before he can finish, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him back towards you, your lips colliding with his in a kiss that’s equally urgent and desperate. Your hands clutch onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring you to reality, and this time, the weight of all the emotions you’ve been holding back crashes into him.

Your kiss is messy, tinged with anger, longing, and sorrow, but it’s real. It’s the connection you’ve been denying for so long. Jungkook responds immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as if afraid you’ll slip away again.

The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment, grappling with the emotions you’ve tried so hard to suppress.

Your lips never part, not even for a second, as you start pulling each other’s clothes off, letting them fall to the ground one after the other. Every single article of clothing gets discarded in a trail leading from his door step to his living room.

The heat between you intensifies, growing hotter and wilder with every second. It’s like you’ve been starving for each other, for this moment, this connection for so long that now you can’t help but devour each other.

You know you shouldn't be doing this. You know you can't face the consequences of your impulsive actions, but your heart refuses to let go. You're completely consumed by the passion and intensity of the kiss, unable to pull yourself away even when you have so much on the line.

Even as you walk into his apartment, your lips remain connected, your hands gripping his arms, holding onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. The world spins around you as he picks up the pace, guiding you to the couch. Your feet brush against the soft carpet, sending shivers up your leg, and before you know it, you feel the cushion behind you.

The feeling of Jungkook on top of you is nothing less than heaven. You run your hands up and down his tattooed arm, feeling the way his muscles tense with each touch. His kisses trail down your neck, making you squirm under him.

“Fuck...” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he takes off your bra in a swift motion.

He groans softly, his eyes wide as they drink in the sight of you beneath him. Then his gaze falls to your collarbone, lingering on the familiar pendant resting against your skin.

"The... necklace." he notices, his fingers reaching out to brush it gently. His touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as if the small piece of jewelry holds all the words he can’t say. He looks up into your eyes, a subtle smile curving his lips.

"You... you never took it off?" he asks, his voice laced with slight disbelief.

"Never." you affirm softly, your voice steady yet tender. His eyes soften, glimmering with emotions too deep for words, and for a moment, it feels as if the necklace is the silent thread that has always held your hearts together.

“I…” his voice trails, and you can tell he’s struggling to find the right words. “I fucking missed you.” he breathes out and without giving you a chance to respond, he leans down and presses his lips to your chest.

You let out a moan as he starts sucking on the skin between your breasts, and your hips squirm beneath him. “Kook…” you gasp as his mouth closes around one of your nipples, making you arch your back. He bites down gently, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

You can feel his body shaking on top of you, the desperation to get closer to you is so so evident. His hand slides up your leg and rests at your waist before slipping under your back, lifting your hips to meet his. The kiss that follows is sweet and gentle, like he’s trying to apologize for everything that’s happened between you, even when it's not his fault.

Your hands move to his hair, twisting into the dark strands as you pull him even closer. You can’t stop yourself, you can’t resist him anymore. The feeling, the warmth, the electricity, it’s too hard to fight. Your body is craving his, and he’s giving you all the affection you’ve been craving for these past four dreadful months.

His lips trail down your body, stopping at the spot between your legs as he slides your underwear down your legs. You gasp as you watch him dip his head, the warmth of his tongue circling your clit. Your hands grip the couch, and your body arches in reaction to the pleasure he’s sending through your body.

“Fuck.” you gasp, barely able to string the words together as he presses his face between your legs. Jungkook moans, his tongue licking around your clit in firm, steady strokes. Your hands move from the couch to his shoulders, pushing him further between your legs.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, his chin wet from your arousal, as he grips your hips and pulls you closer. He buries his tongue as deep as it can go, causing your body to jerk in reaction.

You cry out his name, your voice hoarse as your hands grip his hair. Jungkook feels himself get harder as he flattens his tongue, applying pressure to your clit. “Fuck… please... please Kook... don’t stop.” you beg as he licks you faster, your hips rocking against his face.

Your moans echo through the empty apartment as Jungkook works you closer and closer to release. When he stops sucking your clit and presses his tongue deep inside of you instead, you lose it, your orgasm washing over you in waves.

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, your legs shaking and twitching around his face as your body convulses with pleasure.

He kisses his way up your body, licking the sweat from your skin before he finally reaches your lips. The taste of your arousal on his lips sends heat through you, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth.

Your tears are back, running down your cheeks as you try to process the moment. Jungkook pulls away from your lips and places his forehead against yours. His thumb softly wipes your tears away, as he tries to process this surreal moment himself.

“Fuck...” he whispers as he slowly rubs his length against your core, sending sparks through your body. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours... your bodies pressed together in a way you can't comprehend.

“I... I need you baby....” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his length rubbing against you. You breathe heavily as you nod, wanting him to just take you right here, right now.

With one swift motion, he pushes himself inside you, filling you completely. Your lips part as you take in the feeling of being stretched out by him.

Jungkook stills for a moment, taking in the feeling of finally being back inside of you. He thought he’d never have you like this again, that he’d lost you forever, but here he is, buried deep inside your warmth. His eyes stare into yours, watching your chest heave up and down as you try to adjust to the feeling you had so deeply missed.

You stare into him, sniffling as your tears refuse to stop flowing. “I love you...” you hear him say as he leans forward again, capturing your wet lips in an urgent kiss.

As the kiss grows intense, he starts moving his hips, thrusting in and out of you in a slow and steady pace. Your hands grip his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you arch your back. Jungkook kisses you harder, his moans filling the air around you.

His movements are filled with need and longing, like he’s afraid this is the last time he’ll get to make love to you. He wants to take in every moan, every thrust, every gasp he gets from you.

You’re lost in the sensation, consumed by the pleasure Jungkook is giving you as his body moves over and into you. He holds you down, his weight pinning you to the couch as he makes love to you in his living room. You feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper inside you.

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer as you gasp for air but his hands grip your legs, moving them up his body as he lifts your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The change of position causes him to slide deeper inside you, and you gasp as he hits a familiar spot inside and all you can see is stars.

“Oh god....” you moan as he starts increasing his pace. Your lips part as the sensation washes over you. Jungkook leans down, pressing his lips to yours as he fucks you with reckless abandon. He’s chasing his own release, but he wants you to come with him.

He thrusts into you over and over again, his hands gripping your waist as he holds himself up. Your hands are on his ass, pushing him closer, begging for more as he groans into your mouth.

Your moans fill the air as you feel your body build towards a second release. Jungkook feels it too, his pace picking up as he drives you over the edge once more. “I’m...I'm coming...” you cry, your nails digging into his skin.

Jungkook groans in response, his thrusts becoming wild and desperate. He fucks you like he can’t get enough, like he’ll never get to have you again.

You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you once more. Your body convulses under him, and you can’t do anything but let it take you over. Jungkook grunts, his body shaking above you as he chases his own release.

“Fuck baby...” he groans as he fills you up and collapses on top of you his body shuddering and his hips thrusting into you a few more times, stretching out his orgasm as much as he can. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close as you take in the warmth of his body against yours.

Jungkook presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, the gesture carrying a weight of emotions he can’t put into words. The moment feels surreal, almost fragile, as if one wrong move could shatter it.

He never imagined he’d hold you like this again, the warmth of your presence grounding him in a reality he once thought he’d lost forever. To him, this feels like a stolen dream... achingly beautiful, yet tinged with the fear that it might slip away.

He slowly rolls off you, settling beside you against the soft cushions of the couch. His arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close as his eyes trace the lines of your face.

The exhaustion etched into your features tugs at his heart. His gaze drifts downward, gazing at the necklace around your neck. You didn't take it off and... that must mean something right? As he continues taking in the sight of you, he feels an overwhelming ache rise within him... he had missed you more than words could ever convey.

A thousand questions crowd his mind. He wants to speak, to ask, to understand, to unravel everything that had been left unsaid and find a way back to what you guys once were. But then he notices the way your eyelids flutter, heavy with weariness, and the soft, unsteady rhythm of your breaths as you try to calm yourself.

He swallows the urge to press for answers, deciding that for now, the questions can wait. Morning will come soon enough. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently wills himself to remain still. The warmth of your presence soothes him, and he closes his eyes, hoping that sleep will find him in the solace of this stolen moment.

Jungkook's eyebrows knit together in his sleep, a slight twitch running through his body as he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. His eyes flutter open, and he instinctively clutches the blanket against his chest. Blinking groggily, he glances around, the familiar sight of his apartment slowly coming into focus.

The realization that he’s on the couch sinks in, and like a tidal wave, the memory of last night crashes into him. His breath hitches, and he jolts upright, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic bubbles beneath the surface as he glances at the empty space behind him.

He looks down at the blanket draped over his body, a puzzled frown forming as he struggles to recall when or how it got there. His eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of you, but the stillness of his apartment feels unnervingly hollow. The silence presses down on him, heavy and suffocating.

Rising to his feet, Jungkook starts moving through the apartment, his voice shaky as he calls out your name. "Y/N??" he tries again, his tone more urgent this time. But there’s no answer.

Each step he takes only amplifies the sinking feeling in his chest. He checks the kitchen, the bathroom, his bedroom, even the balcony, but you’re nowhere to be found. His mind spirals, questioning if last night had been a cruel dream... a mirage conjured by his yearning.

Or had you truly been here, only to slip away quietly in the morning? The thought twists his stomach, leaving him nauseous as he leans against the wall, his hands trembling. Did he really lose you all over again?

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second. His movements are frantic, hands fumbling as he pulls on his clothes in haste, not even bothering to smooth out the wrinkles. His mind is racing, each thought more urgent than the last. He grabs his keys and bolts out the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing through the empty hallway.

His heart pounds as he throws himself into the driver’s seat, the familiar hum of the engine roaring to life beneath him. His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, the tension radiating through his body. His eyes burn with exhaustion, but the ache in his chest far outweighs it.

The city is still waking up, the roads bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. Jungkook doesn’t care. He presses harder on the accelerator, weaving through the sparse traffic with reckless determination. Every red light feels like a lifetime, every delay an unbearable agony.

He can't stop thinking about you. The way your touch felt like home, the way your lips trembled against his last night, and the way your tears spoke of everything you were too afraid to say. He can’t let that go. He won’t.

The thought of losing you again, of waking up every morning knowing you’re out there but not by his side, terrifies him. It’s a kind of pain he doesn’t think he can survive twice.

As he nears your neighborhood, his pulse quickens. He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how you’ll react, but none of it matters. All he knows is that he needs you... more than air, more than anything.

Parking haphazardly in front of your house, he bolts towards your door, his heart hammering as he begins knocking. There’s no answer, and his anxiety only grows. He steps off your porch, wondering where you could be.

He rushes outside, reaching the pavement, desperately scanning the neighborhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere.

He runs through the neighborhood, his heart pounding, the anxiety gnawing at him as he checks every corner, every familiar path, but you're nowhere to be seen. Yet, something inside him refuses to give up.

As he nears the park at the edge of the neighborhood, he slows down, taking a breath to steady himself. His eyes sweep over the quiet space, and in that moment, it’s as if time slows... until he sees you, sitting alone on a distant bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the morning light, looking smaller and more vulnerable than he’s ever seen you.

He wastes no time as he runs towards you, his footsteps growing louder as he approaches you, his figure growing more defined with every step. His heart is racing, not just from the frantic search, but from the sheer desperation to be close to you again, to make sure you’re okay.

You sit still, your eyes widening in disbelief as you realize he’s found you. A rush of emotions flood through you... surprise, guilt, and a wave of regret. You can't help but wonder how he managed to find you here.

You glance down, unable to meet his gaze as the memories of last night resurface. The vulnerability of the moment hits you hard. You had fled his apartment at dawn, unable to face him after everything. The way he had held you, the way everything felt so perfect in the heat of the moment... it scared you.

You knew you had no answers to his questions, no way to explain the reasons behind your past actions. And the truth? That was something you couldn’t give him, not now, not when you have so much to lose. The only thing left for you to do was leave him behind and slip away like a coward, hoping he wouldn’t follow.

But here he is, standing before you, his presence too much to ignore. You don't know whether to run again or finally face him.

Jungkook’s eyes are full of pain as he steps closer to you, his voice shaking with a mix of frustration and hurt. “You left.” he breathes out, as if the weight of his words is too much to bear.

“Why... why did you leave?” His voice cracks at the end, vulnerability spilling through in a way he can’t control.

You try to look away, but his gaze pulls you in. The truth, too raw and too close to the surface, is something you can’t escape. You can feel the crack in your heart widen with every passing second. "Jungkook... we're broken up." you whisper, barely meeting his eyes.

"No." he denies, the sharpness in his breath betraying the desperation in his chest. "Don't say that, especially after last night." His voice is pleading now, fragile, cracking in a way that shakes him to the core. His fists clench at his sides with the effort to keep himself together.

"How can you say that after everything? After what happened between us? How... can you just walk away like that? How can you pretend like... none of it mattered?"

He takes a step closer, his eyes burning with a need to understand, to hold on to the fragments of what he thought was still there. "The past four months... it’s been hell, Y/n. I’ve been drowning in this silence, wondering every day what went wrong. I never got an answer. You just... left. Without a word, without a valid reason. And I hate it. I hate that I don’t know why. I hate that you just cut me off like I meant nothing. Like everything we had... it was all just a lie."

You look at him, the tears unknowingly streaming down your face. "Kook..." you start, but he cuts you off. "I tried to let go... I tried to make peace with it... but... but it hurts, Y/n. It hurts more than I can put into words, and I don’t even know what I did wrong." he pauses, trying to calm himself down.

"I don’t know what happened between us. Why did... why did you leave me? Why did you make me feel like I was nothing to you?" His voice cracks, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. You stare at him, the lump in your throat intensifying. "You... you were everything to me. I thought we had a future together, Y/n. But now, I’m just... I'm just so lost.... I'm so lost without you."

Jungkook steps back for a moment, his hands running through his hair in frustration as he tries to make sense of it all. His breath is shallow, a quiet sob escaping him as he collects himself. "I need to know..." he mutters, barely audible. "Why? What... what happened? Please, just tell me."

He takes another shaky breath, the weight of his emotions almost unbearable. "Don’t tell me... you stopped loving me." he pleads, his voice raw and desperate. "I know that’s not true. I know you would never be so harsh to me." His words are laced with disbelief, as if he’s clinging to any shred of hope that there’s something he’s missing, something he can grasp, something that makes sense.

“I can feel it, Y/n.” he continues softly, eyes never leaving yours, searching your face as if it holds the answers. “I know you love me. You can’t just... stop. Not after everything we went through. Not after what we had.” He steps closer again, his heart aching at the thought of losing you. “So don’t tell me that’s it. Don’t tell me you just decided it was over.”

"I never stopped loving you." you whisper, your voice barely audible as hot tears continue to roll down your cheeks. The weight of your words feels like an anchor in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You feel weak, defeated... like there’s no hope left.

The sight of him standing there, shivering in pain, breaks you in ways you didn’t think were possible. His pain, the hurt you’ve caused, fills you with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Your heart aches as you watch the way his eyes fill with confusion and desperation, his hands trembling as he reaches out to you, as if just a touch could make everything okay. But you know, deep down, that nothing can probably fix this.

"I'm sorry." you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "I'm so sorry, Jungkook. I never wanted to hurt you." The tears flow freely now, staining your cheeks as you try to find the strength to speak, to explain, but the words feel stuck, trapped inside you.

As you break down, Jungkook takes a seat beside you as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You bury your face in his chest, the tears coming in waves, uncontrollable, as the weight of everything you've been holding in comes rushing to the surface.

His hands gently stroke your back, soothing you in a way that makes everything feel just a little more bearable. Every sob that wracks your body seems to break his heart a little more, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tightens his grip on you, as if reminding both of you that, for now, you’re not alone.

Jungkook feels his own tears begin to spill as he pulls you even closer, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. His fingers tremble as they weave through your hair, trying to hold you as tightly as possible, as if he could absorb some of your sorrow.

The weight of the silence between you both is suffocating, but his mind races, desperately trying to understand why you’re in so much pain, why you had to leave him, why you feel so broken.

"Y/n..." His voice cracks, raw with emotion as he speaks your name. His chest tightens with the fear that maybe he’s never truly known the full story, that maybe everything he thought he understood was just an illusion.

His tears fall freely now, as he presses his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. "Please, just tell me. What happened?" His words are barely above a whisper, but they hold a desperate plea. "Why are you like this? What... what am I missing?"

His hands move to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that continue to fall. He’s not sure if he’s crying for the both of you or if he’s just so lost in your pain that it feels like it’s his own. "I can’t lose you again, Y/n. I need to know... why we are the way we are right now. Please, just tell me. I can’t fix it if I don’t understand."

His grip on you tightens, the urgency in his voice rising as he gazes into your eyes, searching for some kind of answer, anything that will explain the devastation he’s feeling. His love for you is still so strong, so unyielding, but the fear of losing you completely is almost too much to bear.

Just as you're about to speak, your phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the heavy silence. You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to pick it up, especially given the fragile state you're in right now. But the phone keeps ringing, insistent, and you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.

With a sniffle, you pull away from Jungkook, trying to compose yourself as you reach for your phone. "Just a minute..." you whisper, wiping away the last of your tears as you glance at the caller ID.

It's the hospital. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, and before you can think twice, you answer, trying to steady your voice. "Hello?"

"Am I speaking to Ms. Choi?" the voice on the other end asks. Your breath catches in your throat, and without a second thought, you stand up, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. "Yes, this is she." you reply, trying to keep your composure, but the panic is starting to rise in your chest.

Jungkook watches you intently, noticing the change in your expression as you stand up. His concern deepens as he observes the tension in your body. Who could be calling you at this hour? You grip the phone tighter as the voice on the other end continues speaking, but then you gasp, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

He watches in horror as you suddenly collapse, your knees buckling beneath you. It's like all the strength has left your body. His instincts kick in immediately, and he's by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching out for you.

His hands land gently on your shoulders as he pulls you towards him, trying to steady you. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground, but you don’t seem to notice. Your eyes are wide, unblinking, and you stare ahead, lost in whatever news you've just received.

"Y/n... what happened? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice is laced with worry, his hand moving to your cheek to check for any sign of awareness. You blink a few times, as if snapping back into reality, but it’s still hard to focus. Your lips tremble as you finally meet his eyes, and you whisper his name. "Jungkook..."

His heart races as he holds you tighter, desperate for you to continue. He nods, prompting you to keep talking. "Jungkook... Beomgyu... he... he woke up." you say.

"What...?" Jungkook asks, his voice laced with disbelief. His wide eyes search your face for confirmation, and when he sees the glimmer of truth in your tear-streaked expression, his features soften into a smile. "Y/n... that's... that's great news. That's... amazing news, baby." His voice wavers, a mix of relief and joy, and his smile grows wider.

You nod quickly, the reality of it hitting you all over again as fresh tears stream down your cheeks. "He's awake, Jungkook... he's really awake." you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of happiness and overwhelming emotion.

You pause, glancing around as you try to calm yourself down. "I need to go see him. I... I need to get to the... the hospital." you say hurriedly, the urgency in your tone impossible to miss.

Jungkook catches your arm gently but firmly, grounding you for a moment. "Hey, hey." he says softly, looking into your eyes with a steady calmness. "I'll take you there, yeah? My car’s parked right outside your house, so let’s go. Come on." he softly says as he helps you up.

You barge through the hospital doors, your steps quick and frantic, your heart racing as you navigate through the lobby. Jungkook follows close behind, his presence a comforting weight amidst the chaos swirling in your mind.

You reach the elevator and jab the button repeatedly, as though it might make the lift arrive faster. The ride up feels like an eternity, and yet, when the doors slide open, you're already bolting down the hallway towards Beomgyu's room.

Finally, you stand outside the door, your hand frozen on the handle. You take a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, your chest rising and falling with the weight of four long years of waiting. Four years of imagining this moment, of rehearsing what you’d say, how you’d feel... but now, standing here, all those thoughts dissolve into a haze of indescribable emotion.

Jungkook steps beside you, his voice soft and steady as he whispers. "He's waiting for you, baby." His words calm you, giving you the courage you need to face what’s on the other side of the door. You glance at him, his warm eyes filled with reassurance, and you nod, summoning the strength to push forward. With trembling hands, you carefully push the door open and step inside.

There he is. Beomgyu. Sitting up in bed, his back resting against the headboard, alive and awake. The sight is almost surreal, a moment that feels too precious to be real.

He looks at you with a lopsided grin, his expression as cheeky and familiar as ever. "Long time no see, Your Highness." he quips, his tone lighthearted and playful, as if the last four years hadn't just been wiped away by a miracle.

Your breath catches, a soft laugh escaping you as tears well up in your eyes again. "Beomgyu..." you whisper, your voice breaking. The weight of the years, the pain, the hope... all of it rushes to the surface as you step closer, overwhelmed by the reality of seeing him awake.

You rush to his side, tears streaming freely down your cheeks as you throw your arms around him in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours is enough to break down every last wall you'd built over the years.

You remember all the times you'd playfully swatted him away, rolled your eyes, or made a face every time he tried to hug you because back then, you liked to act like showing affection to your sibling was embarrassing.

But right now, there’s no hesitation, no second thought. Right now, you’ve never felt more alive.

“I missed you.” you sob, your voice muffled against his shoulder as you clutch him like you’re afraid he might slip away again. The tears come harder as the realization sinks in that this moment is real. He’s real. The long, agonizing wait is finally over.

Beomgyu chuckles softly, his voice steady yet laced with emotion. "Wow, I must really be a sight for sore eyes if you’re this clingy." he teases, though his arms wrap tightly around you, holding you just as fiercely. His familiar, playful tone only makes you cry harder.

"You idiot." you choke out, your voice trembling as you pull back just enough to look at him. Your hands cup his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that now spill from his eyes too. "Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again. Do you hear me? Never again."

His grin softens, and he nods, his own tears mirroring yours. "I promise." he whispers, his voice quieter, more solemn now. "Never again."

Jungkook lingers near the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches the reunion unfold. The raw emotion in your embrace, the way you cling to Beomgyu like he might vanish if you let go... it stirs something deep within him.

He knows how long you've waited for this moment, how often you spoke of it with a mixture of hope and pain. Seeing you finally experience it makes his heart swell with happiness for you.

But then, Jungkook freezes as Beomgyu's gaze shifts towards him. His eyes widen slightly, realizing that this is the first time Beomgyu is seeing him.

“Who’s... that?” Beomgyu asks, his voice curious but steady. His brows furrow slightly as he nods towards Jungkook. You turn to follow Beomgyu’s gaze, and when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, you can’t help but smile.

“That’s Jungkook.” you say softly, glancing back at your brother before looking at Jungkook again. There’s something tender in the way you say his name, something that makes Jungkook’s smile widen as he nods politely at Beomgyu.

Before anything else can be said, the doctor appears and Jungkook steps aside letting him in. “Ms. Choi.” the doctor greets with a warm smile. “Congratulations. It’s wonderful to see Beomgyu awake and responsive. However, we’ll need to run a few tests now, just to check his overall condition.”

You nod understandingly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek as you stand. “Of course... thank you, doctor.” you say, turning back to Beomgyu. You lean down to place a soft kiss on his forehead, your smile filled with a quiet reassurance. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

Beomgyu nods, his grin still cheeky. “Don’t disappear. I need you to explain who that guy is and why he was looking at you with literal heart eyes.” he teases, his playful tone making you chuckle as you shake your head.

You glance at Jungkook, who’s scratching the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. “Behave.” you tell Beomgyu with a laugh before stepping outside with Jungkook, leaving your brother in the capable hands of the doctor.

As you settle into the metal chair right outside Beomgyu's room, beside Jungkook, the cold steel pressing against your back is a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand as it gently rests on your knee. His fingers squeeze lightly, offering some silent comfort.

You glance down at the way his hand fits so naturally on you and let out a small, tired smile. Placing your hand over his, your thumb begins to trace slow circles over his knuckles, grounding yourself in the quiet rhythm of the motion.

Your voice breaks the silence, soft but weighted. "Junghyun... he came to see me."

Jungkook’s brows knit together in confusion. “Junghyun? My brother?” he repeats, his tone disbelieving as he tries to process your words. You nod, your gaze shifting to the sterile white tiles of the hospital floor.

“Four months ago... he came to the kindergarten.” you admit, your voice faltering slightly. You exhale deeply, trying to steady yourself before diving into the painful memory.

The words spill out in fragments, raw and hesitant, as you recount the confrontation with Junghyun. You describe the way he appeared out of nowhere, his presence overbearing, his threats sharp and deliberate. You tell Jungkook how he used your brother's condition against you, twisting it into a weapon, leaving you cornered and helpless.

By the time you finish, the tension in Jungkook’s body is palpable. His jaw is clenched tight, and his fists curl against his knees. His breath is sharp as he mutters through gritted teeth, “That motherfucker…”

His reaction makes your chest tighten, a mixture of relief and guilt washing over you. He’s angry... angrier than you’ve ever seen him but you know it’s not directed at you. It’s the thought of his brother’s cruel manipulation, the pain you endured in silence, that has his blood boiling.

"I'll be right back." Jungkook says firmly, already standing up and walking away with purpose. Panic rises in your chest as you quickly catch up to him, already guessing where he’s headed. "Jungkook, no... wait, stop." you plead, reaching out to grab his arm.

He stops abruptly, turning to face you and holding your shoulders gently but firmly. His dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with resolve. "Y/n, just trust me." he says, his voice steady yet reassuring. "He won’t be able to do anything. I’ll make sure... I’ll make sure you and Beomgyu are safe. I promise."

You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head, cutting you off before the words can escape. "I need to put him in his place." he breathes out, his jaw tightening. "He needs to know he can’t talk to you like that. He needs to understand what you mean to me." His voice softens slightly, the tenderness in his gaze making your heart ache.

"Just stay here with Beomgyu." he continues, his tone resolute. "I’ll be back soon. I promise."

Before you can stop him, he steps closer, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, his touch lingering like a silent vow. Then, without another word, he turns on his heels and strides down the hallway, his determination unwavering. You stand frozen, watching him disappear, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the hospital.

Jungkook barges into his brother's home office, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Junghyun glances up from his computer, a bemused expression on his face. "Oh, Jungkook? Didn’t expect you to visit on a Sunday. What brings you—"

His sentence is cut off abruptly as Jungkook strides over, grabbing his collar and yanking him to his feet. Before Junghyun can even process what’s happening, a powerful punch lands squarely on his cheek. He stumbles back, clutching his face in shock, but Jungkook doesn’t let him regain his footing.

With a growl of anger, Jungkook throws another punch, the impact snapping Junghyun’s head to the side. The metallic tang of blood fills the air as a crimson streak trickles from Junghyun's split lip.

"Jungkook!" Junghyun finally manages to shout, his voice laced with both pain and disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his chest heaving as he towers over his brother. His fists clench and unclench, the anger rolling off him in waves. "That’s for threatening Y/n." he snarls, his voice dangerously low. "You think you can mess with her? Intimidate her like that? Not while I’m here."

Junghyun glares at him, wiping the blood from his lip, his shock slowly giving way to a cold smirk. "So, this is about her?" he mutters, his tone mocking despite his obvious discomfort. "You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jungkook. How pathetic."

But Jungkook doesn’t flinch. Instead, he grabs Junghyun by the collar again, pulling him close. "Listen to me." he says through gritted teeth. "Stay away from her. If you ever even think about going near her or Beomgyu again, I swear, you’ll regret it."

Jungkook lets go of Junghyun with a forceful shove, sending him sprawling back into his chair. "All this for a girl like her? Really Jungkook?" Junghyun scoffs, his tongue poking the inside of cheek. "You have no idea what she means to me." Jungkook says lowly, glaring at his brother.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his fists still clenched at his sides. His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. "You have no idea what she means to me." he says, his glare unwavering. "And you never will."

Junghyun chuckles bitterly, his face twisted in disdain, but before he can retort, Jungkook steps closer, his presence commanding. "Do you think Dad’s going to be proud when he hears what you’ve been up to?" Jungkook asks, his words sharp and deliberate.

Junghyun’s smirk falters ever so slightly. "You think he’ll be okay with you going around threatening people? Manipulating them? Using fear to get your way?" Jungkook continues, his voice rising slightly. "You’re the pathetic one, hyung."

He pauses, letting his words sink in, then laughs... a dry, humorless sound. "And you know what’s really pathetic? That you thought I wouldn’t find out. That you thought I’d just let it slide."

Junghyun’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing, but he stays silent, his confidence clearly shaken. Jungkook steps back, his glare never leaving his brother. "This is your last warning. Stay away from her. Stay away from Beomgyu. Because if you don’t..." He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You won’t just have Dad to deal with. You’ll have me."

Without waiting for a response, Jungkook straightens up and strides out of the office, slamming the door behind him, leaving Junghyun to stew in his own discomfort and rising dread.

As you help Beomgyu inside your house, he pauses for a moment, letting his eyes wander around the familiar space. His gaze lands on the corner of the room, behind the couch, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "You still haven't gotten rid of that weird vase?" he teases, pointing at the decorative piece.

You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you. "That's never gonna happen." you reply with a shrug, playfully glaring at him.

He shakes his head in mock disapproval before taking a seat on the couch. The cold fabric causes him to shiver slightly, but he leans back, closing his eyes. "Well... it's good to be back." he murmurs, exhaling deeply.

You stand there for a moment, watching him. Your heart feels so full it could burst. It almost seems unreal... having him here, in your home, after all this time. "Let me cook you some jjajangmyeon." you suggest, breaking the silence.

His eyes snap open, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, how did you know I was craving exactly that?" he asks, his tone amused. "It's a sibling thing." you reply with a wink, heading into the kitchen.

As you start preparing the ingredients, your thoughts inevitably drift to Jungkook, especially since you haven't heard from him ever since he left you at the hospital. You can’t help but wonder how he’s handling the situation with Junghyun. The thought of it makes your stomach churn slightly, but you push the anxiety aside.

"So, where’s your little boyfriend?" Beomgyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, his teasing tone carrying from the living room. A shy smile tugs at your lips, but you don’t respond immediately. "Come on..." he continues, his footsteps drawing closer until he’s leaning casually against the kitchen counter.

"I was in a damn coma for four years, and my bitchless sister finally manages to pull someone, and I don’t even get a proper introduction?"

You snort at his choice of words. "Oh, come on, Gyu." you reply, turning to face him with a mock exasperated look. "I’ll introduce you when the time’s... right." He sighs, clearly unimpressed with your answer. "The time’s right when I say it is." he quips, but his grin betrays the affection behind the teasing.

Beomgyu arches a brow at the sudden sound of the doorbell, his smirk widening with curiosity. "Is that who I think it is?" he quips, leaning back against the counter with an air of playful arrogance.

You glance at him, wide-eyed and suddenly flustered. You smile at him briefly before you quickly make your way to the door, your heart thudding in anticipation. The moment you open it, time seems to still. There stands Jungkook, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, his presence radiating comfort and confidence. His smile is subtle yet powerful, a silent reassurance that everything is under control.

You step outside, quietly closing the door behind you, shielding the moment from your brother's prying gaze. You fidget with your fingers as words evade you. "So...?" you finally manage, your voice trailing off.

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps forward, closing the space between you. His arms encircle you in a gentle, protective embrace, his warmth instantly melting away your apprehensions. "I punched him." he says at last, his voice tinged with triumph.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you pull back just enough to search his face. "What?" you ask, your voice rising an octave in disbelief.

"I punched him." he repeats, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "Right in the face. You should’ve seen him... completely caught off guard. Like...there's no way he actually had the nerve to mess with my girl."

A mix of shock and amusement washes over you as you lightly smack his chest. "Jungkook! That’s not something to be proud of." you admonish, though the corners of your mouth twitch with an unwilling smile. "Violence isn’t the answer."

His smirk deepens as he tilts his head, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, but in his case, it is."

You shake your head, exhaling a laugh despite yourself. "What am I gonna do with you?" you murmur, your tone caught between exasperation and fondness.

Jungkook’s expression softens, the teasing glimmer in his eyes replaced by an intensity that makes your breath hitch. "Y/N..." he begins, his voice low and steady. "You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll take care of everything... you, Beomgyu. You’ll both be safe. I promise."

His words hit you hard, the depth of his sincerity leaving you momentarily speechless. He steps even closer, his hands gently cupping your face as his thumbs brush against your cheeks. "I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I’m here." he vows, his tone resolute, his gaze locking onto yours.

You nod, your chest swelling with a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you were yearning for. "Just promise me..." he continues, his voice softening. "if anything ever happens again, you’ll tell me. Right away. No hiding, no secrets."

A lump forms in your throat as you nod again, unable to find the words to express the gratitude and trust coursing through you. Jungkook smiles faintly, the tension easing from his features, and he pulls you into another embrace. His arms wrap around you like a fortress, his chin resting lightly atop your head.

"I missed you." you whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.

"I missed you too." he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion as he tightens his hold on you. "More than you know."

After a few long moments, you pull back, your eyes meeting his as the world seems to shrink down to just the two of you. His gaze flickers to your lips, and before you can even register it, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

The kiss is tender yet fervent, each movement brimming with unspoken emotions. You feel his love, his promise, and his unwavering devotion in the way his lips meld with yours, leaving no room for doubt that this is where you belong. The porch, the cool evening air, the distant sounds of the world... all of it fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in him.

It's as if a colossal weight has finally been lifted from your shoulders, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. In this fleeting, surreal moment, the world fades away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your heart and the warmth surrounding you.

Everything about this feels inexplicably right , the way he kisses you, the way his arms embrace you, the way his presence steadies your storm. You feel complete, as though the jagged pieces of your soul have found their perfect fit. You feel whole again.

"Umm, sooo sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." Beomgyu’s voice drawls out, cutting through the tender moment. You and Jungkook both pull apart and turn your heads sharply, only to see him mischievously peeking out of the window right beside the front door. “But, Y/n, your brother, who just got out of a coma, is really, really hungry and would love for you to finish cooking the jjajangmyeon you promised him.”

You roll your eyes, a flush creeping up your cheeks as Jungkook stifles a laugh. "And, of course..." Beomgyu continues, his grin widening. “He’d absolutely love to finally meet your boyfriend.” He emphasizes the last word, wagging his eyebrows dramatically at Jungkook, who chuckles deeply at your brother's antics.

You groan, covering your face in Jungkook’s chest as he wraps an arm protectively around you, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Gyu, you’re unbelievable.” you mumble, your voice muffled.

Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly. “Hey, priorities, okay? Food first, making out later.” he teases, shooting a mock salute before disappearing back into the house after shutting the window down.

Jungkook looks down at you, his smile soft and amused. “I like him.” he says with a chuckle. You pull back slightly, playfully glaring at him. “Don’t encourage him.” you warn, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.

“Come on.” Jungkook says, planting a quick kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go… we can't have your brother starving.” he says.

You laugh, grabbing his hand as the two of you step back inside. The warmth of your house envelops you, and for the first time in forever, you feel okay.

Beomgyu’s playful voice fills the air as he grins from the couch, the sibling bond you thought you’d lost now brighter than ever. Jungkook squeezes your hand, his steady presence a reminder that the hardest days are now way behind you.

In the kitchen, surrounded by laughter and the aroma of cooking, you glance at Jungkook. His soft smile says everything words can’t, filling your heart with a quiet peace.

For the first time in months, you’re not just surviving... you’re actually living. With Beomgyu back where he belongs and Jungkook by your side, your heart feels complete, wrapped in the comforting truth that this... this is what home is meant to feel like.

—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

my masterlist <3

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction #exes to lovers #Spotify

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spxllcxstxr · 2 months ago

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Being in an Established Relationship with Jayce and Viktor • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: I am desperate for more Jayce x Viktor x Reader content! Would I be able to request headcanons for what an established relationship with them would be like?? 🥺 -- @spatialwave

Warnings: gn!reader, first time writing arcane and jayvik so I hope it's all good!!

A.N: Andy (@spatialwave) has inspired me so much so PLEASE go read their beautiful writing! You need to understand I got this request LAST NIGHT, I just had to bang it out I was writing like a FIEND. I loved writing this so much, I hope to write more in the future!! Hope you enjoy!

•

Being in a relationship with Jayce and Viktor is like being a part of an old married couple that simultaneously bickers all the time and is just falling in love all over again every day

Jayce is like a ray of sunshine on a summer afternoon

He's clingy--but not overwhelmingly so. Jayce just has to have some sort of body part on either of you at all times (except in the lab unless he's feeling especially in love that day)

He loves putting his arms around your waist, chest pressed up against your back and lips ghosting over your neck. Jayce is a bit more subtle with Viktor, since your other partner prefers smaller touches, so their fingers are always tangled together. Some days Jayce will even sneak his hand into Vik's back pocket, making the slimmer boy light up red from the neck up

Jayce is also the type of boyfriend that will always have you two on his mind. He picks a flower from someone's garden to give it to you because "the vibrancy of its color reminded me of your eyes," or buys a little knick knack for Viktor because "I thought you would find it hilariously stupid" (Viktor will put it on his already cluttered desk at the lab because Jayce was right, it is stupidly funny)

Jayce will always get an A for effort because even if he can't remember how you like your coffee or tea, it's the thought that counts

Has bigass puppy dog eyes and he fucking knows how to use them against you two

All he has to do is look between you and Vik with those golden eyes are you're both putty in his hands

Speaking of being putty in hands, Jayce is the cuddler of the relationship

Which is good because he is also the space heater of the relationship too

Will basically have Viktor curled up on one side and you on the other. His face will be buried in Viktor's hair, placing sleepy kissed on his scalp. His fingers will rub circles on the small of your back. Jayce is the best pillow and blanket in all of Piltover AND Zaun

Viktor, on the other hand, is like the moon at midnight

He loves the both of you in a slightly different way than Jayce

While Jayce is more touchy and exuberant with his love, Vik is certainly more subtle, though that doesn't mean he loves you two any less

He is actually exceptionally smitten with you and Jayce. It's like his walls come crashing down whenever you two are with him. He could come back from having a disagreement about a project with Heimer, with his jaw clenched and brows furrowed, and then he'll spot you and Jayce in your shared apartment and it all melts away

Viktor isn't carrying the world on his shoulders with his partners around him. He knows that you guys will lift the hefty weight from his shoulders

While Viktor isn't as touchy ad you or Jayce, he shows his presence in other ways.

Viktor will always have at least one eye on you at all times. It's not that he doesn't trust you two (on the contrary, you two are the only people he trusts with his life), he just needs to know his lovers are ok

Jayce could be tinkering with something in the lab and 50% of Viktor's attention will be on him. Making sure he doesn't shock himself or mix the wrong chemicals together. And if that does ever happen, Viktor drops everything to help him. He masks his worry with wit, but the mask is transparent for you and Jayce

Viktor is also the one with the extreme attention to detail. Your coffee or tea is always right and always the right temperature in the morning. A scarf is always hanging on the coat rack near the front door on chilly days for you. Puts a bookmark in the book you're reading when you unexpectedly fall asleep reading on the couch

He is so big on being a gentleman. Will open doors for you two, pull out seats during a nice dinner. Also is the type to lift up your hand so he can kiss your knuckles (he knows this drives you wild and he struggles to hide a smirk at your heated face)

The three of you are witty and biting and funny in your own ways, quips are basically thrown around every hour of the day. The day isn't complete without someone rolling their eyes. Teasing knows no bounds--the apartment, the lab, a fancy dinner, in front of councilmen and women--doesn't matter

Every day you feel lucky to have these two as your partners, you really hit the jackpot with them. They're caring and attentive and loving in ways no one else is

And they feel the exact same way

•

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #jayce talis #jayce talis x reader #jayce talis x you #jayce talis x viktor #jayce x viktor #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor x you #jayvik #jayvik x reader #jayvik x you #arcane headcanons #arcane fanfiction

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bomber-grl · 4 months ago

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Main 6 - Cuddle Headcanons

PAIRING(S): Asra Alnazar x Gn!Reader, Julian Devorak x Gn!Reader, Nadia Satrinava x Gn!Reader, Muriel x Gn!Reader, Portia x Gn!Reader, Lucio x Gn!Reader

Cuddling positions are practically never ending with Asra. They love to just be close to you and doesn’t have much of a preference.

However, there are some cuddle positions that are preferred after a long day of existing.

One of them is him laying on your chest. Usually this is your way of helping them unwind, especially when you massage his scalp and play with his hair.

Other than that, just hearing your heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of your chest comforts them, even after all that’s happened.

Then there’s the time when he just wants to show you that he loves you.

This usually prompts them to start kissing you all over your face and you end up falling into his arms, all bundled up by the warm blankets.

Honestly overall, they just love to cuddle in bed with you and whatever position you two end up laying in

Even if it isn’t always the same position you wake up in

Also bonus points if you end up letting Faust cuddle up with you two, she does get cold sometimes yknow

Which she most likely always does end up doing

In Nadia’s route, it’s noted that there is only once bed in the shop so it’s likely Asra and you share it even when you’re not cuddling

So most times he’d fall asleep from exhaustion near you, with faust slithering on him

Probably hugs you around your waist too

And if you try to strike a “sexy” pose he’ll laugh and play along

The worst

Ofc he’s not actually the worst Lucio still exists but the way he cuddles at times is a hit or miss

Especially since most times he ends up sprawling his limbs out wherever they can, usually ending up on top of you unless you spoon him.

When it’s actually enjoyable to cuddle with him, most times he enjoys being spooned or mutual holding.

We all know how self deprecating he is so might as well show him how well he can be loved, even if you’re shorter or smaller, that’s no excuse

Just don’t mind his long limbs

Regardless of how you choose to hold him, he’ll always hold onto you back. Now on the other end of the spectrum where it’s damn near torture-

He has no regard for you- in his sleep at least

Like bro is genuinely squishing you with his limbs, and you can’t even move them because you’re trapped 💔

He probably unknowingly hogs the blanket too since he’s slipped off the bed more times than he’d like to admit and has taken the blanket with him.

He has all his weight on it, making damn near impossible to get the blanket from under him, leaving you shivering and timbering in the cold

If you’d prefer to be the one held then he’d be more than happy to 😭 just be prepared for him to be pretty flustered by being the one “in charge”

He does apologize to you when he wakes up if he’s been squishing you, etc etc though

Mother

She definitely one of the LI that are on the podium of best cuddlers. she holds you so warm and tight it’s honestly the best.

She is not the type to be all that physically affectionate, which is honestly a bummer because her hugs and cuddles are the best ever.

Often times at the end of an exhausting day as countess, she loves to spoil you and hold you in her arms.

She’s more than happy to massage your scalp or shoulders, even feeding you some fruit would be sufficient

Sleep wise, she’s as elegant as she is when she’s awake. Her hair is somehow perfect (must be the rose colored lenses talking-) and she’s not a blanket hogger of any kind

She’s really considerate even in her sleep and she’ll randomly wake up in the middle of the night and look for you

If you’re not covered by the blanket, she’ll tuck you in and go back to bed.

Either that or she’ll also hold you in her arms depending on if she believes that you want your space.

Now, if you’re more a sprawler, always falling off the bed, or just not that pretty of a sleeper she find it super endearing

She’ll literally get up from her cozy place on the bed to help you back up. Even going as far as carrying you if that’s what would be more comfortable.

Now, we all know Nadia prefers to be the one “in charge” she prefers to pamper and that’s alright.

But, if you prefer to also show her your affection that same way she’ll be more than happy to oblige- although it’ll be done with a blush.

When cuddling Muriel is super gentle and is hyper aware because of his larger stature, making him scared at the possibility of hurting you.

Which, you have to reassure him would never happen because you’d be happy to be crushed by him

With your constant reassurance and how often you tend to flop yourself on top of him, he eventually just gets used to it.

Cuddle wise, he’s usually big spoon for obvious reasons, he’ll hold you against his chest too along with Inanna being sandwiched by you both.

Again, you tend to be the one laying on him and when he chooses to sleep on his back, you’re laying on his chest and just absorbing his warmth.

I think it’d be obvious, but Muriel would also enjoy being held aswell. When you confront him with the idea he’s flustered because not only has he never considered it but he’s so touch starved.

If you have him lay his head on your chest, being held in your arms or even go as far as have him be little spoon, well his blush is out of this world.

If anything, he’s just happy that you’d want him to feel loved, as if you being around him isn’t enough

It isn’t

He’s basically beet red and he just accepts the affection ,laying there with you because again, he loves it.

Whenever/ if he tries to argue and say that he’s too big or whatever just say that you want him 🔛🔝 of you and just watch him squirm and get so flustered that he forgets

He ends up inevitably bringing it up again, so just cuddle the man

Sleep wise, Muriel is also really considerate. He tries not to take as much space and if you end up subconsciously tugging a blanket that he’s on, he’ll immediately move to give it to you.

Treat him well.

Yes, yes, yes, just yes

She’s the absolute best person to cuddle with, she’s such a cuddle bug and honestly neither of you guys have a preference most times and so it ends in just cuddling however.

Most times it’s either of you on the others chest. Mostly it’s Portia that enjoys having you rest on her and she enjoys playing with your hair or just massaging your scalp.

She’s more than happy to be the big spoon if that’s what you prefer, maybe she’d even tease you for being so “bold” as to ask.

Ironic considering that the instant that you insist on coddling her she’s flushed from head to toe.

Literally almost literally every time you two cuddle she’ll always put a leg over you.

Just a quirk of hers that you’ve noticed and a definite plus is how warm she is which causes you to cling to her.

Which definitely warrants some teasing for clinging onto her like some koala. She finds it endearing though and is definitely worth is since she ends up peppering kisses all over your face

Is it really cuddling with Portia if you exclude Pepi? No, no it’s not

Pepi is so cute!! It’s a well known fact and she’ll always end up crawling and making her way through the bundle of blankets to rest her little self in between you and Portia.

Sleep wise, Portia is also a hit or miss 😭

She’ll either cling to you in her sleep while also being considerate so it’s not bothersome

Or she’ll sleep lazily and drool a bit, causing her to be a bit embarrassed once she finally wakes up.

The worst motherfucker to cuddle with, EVER (up to interpretation whether it’s said with love)

Not likely)

Like he sleeps in either of two ways and neither of them are necessarily the best.

The first way is him being all lovey dovey and cuddly with you while the second one makes you wish death (again) upon him.

The first one is admittedly really nice. He’s in your arms and just being the needy, clingy bastard we all know Lucio to be.

It’s not so nice because of how this doesn’t change even during the summer time. You’ll definitely end up getting a heatstroke because of him clinging onto you one day.

That’s just the first way though.

The second way is him being sprawled out all over you without a care in the world.

His limbs are so freaking heavy too, it’s not like you could escape even if you desperately wanted to.

Worst part? He steals the fucking blanket all the time

Literally refuses to let go of his weirdly tight grip on the blanket in his sleep, leaving you shivering and timbering all night.

And then he has the audacity of getting mad at you for pushing him off the bed.

Smh

That’s all i have on this fucker

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jyoongim · 11 months ago

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ANON ASKED: realder is a shy doe that’s like 5ft. She pretty much avoids Alastor like her life depends on it, because he makes her uncomfortable, and of course he knows he does. She goes into heat, but doesn’t find a partner. She just gets very tired and just goes into hibernation. Alastor find that very interesting to say the least. After staying at the hotel for so long, their heats sync and its a mess for him and she isn’t aware of it.

Degrading, voice kink, size kink, and breeding kink. Ear and tail pulling??? Fem! Reader receiving

So i think i missed a few marks and then it spiraled but i did my best to fulfill your request as best my ability!!!!

@animeloveruwu1234

As the weather got colder, you started to rarely be seen around the hotel. Your heat was rolling around and the urge to nest was nagging you.

You sighed, rolling out of bed and heading down for breakfast.

You were greeted with the scent of warm deliciousness. You pile your plate full of food, opting for more sweets and meats to the surprise of the other residents.

“ Christ. Slow down Toots, you’re gonna choke.” Angel laughed as you munched happily on a avocado toast sausage bacon mix.

You giggled “Its winter Angel, i have to pack on some weight. I tell you every year” Your ears perked in alert when static ran up your body. Your ears drooped when Alastor entered the kitchen. “Why what a fine hellish day it is!”

He hummed as he waltzed past you, you nearly choked on your food when he leaned over your shoulder, looking at your plate “Didn’t take you for the cannibalism type doe” grinning as you looked away, huffing ”its cooked” as he stole a piece of ham.

“Does typically pick up weight in the winter. They have to fill out in order to provide for fawns. They make for excellent pickings during hunting season” Alastor said as he buttered his toast, eyes on you as you squirmed slightly.

Angel and Charlie gawked “You’re gonna have a baby?!”

Your eyes widened “What!? No! Its just a deer thing. No fawns anytime soon” you blushed. Shaking your head you stood from the table, excusing yourself.

You weren’t necessarily afraid of Alastor, you had been around him long enough to get use to tolerate him, but the stag still made you uncomfortable, even after all this time around him. He reeked of dominance and power and your much softer nature did not mesh well with his intimidating one.You usually only spoke a few words to him, always excusing yourself to get away from him.

Like now, the comment about deer season had your skittish nature taking over, not liking the idea of potentially being a target.

Alastor chuckled as you walked by him. Your cute fluffy tail twitching, begging to be tugged on Alastor blinked at the intrusive thought.

That was new. He shook it off as just a sadistic moment.

————————————————————————————-

You curled in your pile of blankets as your heat raked through you.

Over the last few days, Charlie was so kind to leave you food and water so you didn’t have to go to the kitchen.

But you were itching for fresh air. Stretching your legs would do you some good.

Maybe you would find a partner to mate with on your outing.

You took a deep breath of fresh air as you exited the hotel, sighing happily. You bobbed around the city, nose sniffing out any potential males.

After a while your body started to heat up and you were going tired. You weren’t successful as most demon you met were either too eager to keep you tied up or not interested.

oh well.

As you approached the hotel a faint musky scent had your senses in a frenzy. You subconsciously followed the faint scent and ended up in the kitchen. No one was in there, but a tray of food was perched on the table, probably for you.

The last few weeks you were eating way more to keep up the energy that was burning through you.

You stuffed your mouth as you sniffed again, sighing deeply as the scent seemed to fog your head.

You had your fill and went to retreat to your bedroom, when you bumped into a solid chest.

Your ears perked at the sound of a faint growl and static.

”Careful doe” a deep voice purred.

Alastor.

You took a step back, ears furrowing back “Oh! I’m sorry Al”you looked up at him.

The tall red demon smiled down at you, but something seemed off.

His smile looked strained, and his ears were flickering about, eyes narrowed. He looked slightly flustered.

Your instincts had you look over him, to see if you could find the sense of his discomfort.

You hand reached out to press against his forehead, his skin was clammy.

Alastor didn’t flinch from your touch or slap your hand away, instead his head leaned into your hand, making your head tilt in question.

”Al? Do you feel alright?” Your eyes filled with worry. Alastor hummed, a sharp claw clasping your chin as he chuckled “Oh its nothing I cant handle dear.” You nodded, taking his word and made your way back to your room.

You curled in your nest as you thought about how strangely the demon was acting. But maybe it really was nothing.

————————————————————————————-

Alastor had smelled the most delicious scent waft across his nose. It smelled familiar but it was just too sweet to pinpoint who it belonged to. So he followed it.

The scent led him to the kitchen where he found you.

The little doe was having her filling, consuming some food, stuffing her soft cheeks with whatever was on the tray.

You looked plumper. Softer. For as long as he had known you, your heats were interesting to witness.

You tended to eat more, your usual slim figure filling out to accommodate the energy you burned. You often hid away when you were in heat. Something that Alastor found interesting.

Most does sought out partners to satisfy them, but not you.

He had overheard you how most of the times you did go seeking partners but no one tickled your fancy enough.

Something about that made his chest tingle.

No one would be able to satisfy you like he could his instincts screamed.

With another deer around, your heats triggered his ruts.

He had never interacted with you while in a rut, so when you bumped into him, he wasn’t ready for the consequences.

You let out a cute little squeak when you collided with his chest, ears perked as you registered the static he let off.

He felt his cock stir in his pants as he breathed in your scent.

Your heat must have been flaring as he could taste how your cunt smelled.

His ears furrowed against his head, the only indicator that something was wrong. He kept up his composure as you nervously apologized. But as he too was in rut, he was sure he was showing some signs, as you asked if he was ok.

He tensed up as he felt your hand on his cheek, but leaned into your touch.

Your soft voice laced in concern as you looked over him, checking to make sure he wasn’t ill.

Oh what a naive doe.

It was taking every bit of control he had to not take you against the kitchen table.

how would you look as he took you?

Would you beg him to make a mess of you?

Would you let him breed you to the point your cunt dripped with his cum?

He let out a low growl once you left the kitchen, turning his head to watch your full ass sway as your tail twitched about.

———————————————————————————

A knock at your door had you stirring awake from the comfort of your makeshift nest.

You were much too tired and had no desire to answer whoever was on the other side of the door. Your heat was at a all time high and the stickiness between your thighs, a result of your abusing your poor clit for relief. If it was Charlie, then she would just leave food at your door. Your eyes started to drift close, the sweet call of sleep sounding so appealing.

Your ears twitched at the knock again, a soft growl escaping your throat.

Your tired brain did not catch up with your nose as you swung open the door, tired eyes widening as you are face to chest? With Alastor.

You keened your neck to look up at him; head tilting as the red demon peered down at you with black blown out eyes.

”Al?”you asked confused, rubbing at your eyes sleepily.

”Apologies my dear, did I wake you?” He asked, head tilted, voice feign concern, his red ears erect and honed in on your soft panting, eyes narrowing at he took in the slight coat of sweat on your skin and how disoriented you seemed.

You nodded wordlessly, now highly aware that you, a doe were in full heat, evidence of that clinging to your thighs, and a stag was at your door.

Your heart sounded in your ears as your eyes raked over Alastor, accessing him.

Taking mental notes of mating potential instinctively.

“I thought you were Charlie…she usually leaves me food”

He hummed, a clawed hand coming up to your face to grip your chin. You blinked. Body buzzing.

Alastor’s instinct were screaming to push you back into your room and claim you in your nest, and satisfy the burn in his body.

Your scent had basically coated the hotel in its sweet smell. The scent making his cock twitch and antlers itch.

And the scent of your cunt had his mouth watering.

And he will have his fill.

”Your heat must take a lot out of you dear” his hands reached to soothe your tense shoulders, fingertips massaging the flesh. You stayed still as his hands roamed your body, softly pawing at the curves you gained from your heat.

His lips nipped at your soft ear, purring into it “I could provide assistance if you like?”

Your tail wagged as you gulped “A-Assistance?” You asked.

From your time around the red demon, you have never known him to willingly help people. Alastor maintained a sense of control in every situation, twisting and bending the rules to be in his favor.

A doe in heat should be easy to manipulate.

”Yeeeessss anything you want my dear! Think of it as ‘I scratch your back so you can scratch mine’ type of deal hmmm?” He chuckled darkly, slowly backing you into your room.

————————————————————————————-

Soft moans filled the room, accompanied by the hum of static as Alastor sucked at your clit.

You were sprawled out on your back in your nest, knees on either side of Alastor’s head as he lavished your clit with his tongue.

You panted as his tongue dipped into heat, thighs shuddering as it curled and lapped at your juices.

”H-Hah!! Ah! Ah! A-Al!” You whined, toes curling when he sucked the sore bud into his mouth. You tugged at the big antlers that separated your legs.

He had already made you cum on his fingers twice; cooing into your neck as you cried, cunt clenching around the digits like a vice.

Alastor grunted lowly, nipping at your clit with sharp teeth before sucking it back into his mouth. A finger dipped to fill you as he flicked your clit. Your gummy walls squeezing him, contracting at the intrusion but welcoming him into its depths.

He cooed around into your cunt, eyes looking up at you.

Your face was flushed and slick with sweat. Hands at your breasts, pulling and massaging your perky nipples.

Pouty lips parted as your moans tore from your throat.

”oooh c’mon doll, one more. You’ve been doing so good.”

Your body felt like it was burning. Each orgasm fogging your head with pure desire to be sated properly.

Your hips followed the rhythm of his tongue, using the hold on his antlers to ride his face.

Alastor let you be. Happily curling his finger inside you as he lapped up your essence.

Your back arched as a third orgasm ripped through you, teeth clenching as your hips twitched in overstimulation, but riding it out to make the sensation last.

You sighed as you went limp, eyes hazily looking up at the ceiling, waiting to fall back to earth.

But you didn’t have the time to tuck your legs back in and roll over to sleep, when Alastor adjusted himself onto his knees and pulled you flush to his hips.

A surprised “Ah!” Escaped your lips as your cunt was filled to the brim.

With cock.

Alastor growled, hissing as finally your cunt so asked around him, unsure whether to welcome him. A harsh thrust broke what little resistance your walls gave and had you mewling.

“Oh fuck!”

Large claws kneaded at your fleshy thighs, holding them to your chest as his hips crashed down into yours, cock hitting that sweet nerve over and over, making you coat his cock in creamy slick.

”Al-Alastor! Ha! Nggh ooh fuuuck me!” You cried, tears forming in your eyes as he pounded your count.

”You would think after all this time, I wouldn’t blink when you’re in heat. But oh darlin’ you always know how to catch my interest.” He goated lightly, a claw coming up to your parted lips, his thumb pressing inside as you sucked subconsciously on the digit.

His eyes narrowed at you, pulling his hips back to snap them forward as a response.

”Do you know how divine you smell? Just walking around with a dripping cunt without a care. Many demons would kill to fuck a cunt this appealing” a dark smirk curled on his lips when your cunt made a wet sound. “And Ill kill many demons to keep it to myself” he purred setting out a rough pace, claws on your round hips to pull you into his thrusts, keeping his cock nestled within your warm cavern.

Alastor was fucking you in your nest

A place sacred for only a doe’s mate

did that mean…was he?

Your brain was reeling. It couldn’t keep up with the sensations that were raking through your body. Your hands found purchase in the surrounding blankets as you let out moans that if you were in your right mind, would have left you embarrassed.

”mmhmm hmmm nngh Ah! Hhhaaa!” Your body jolted with his thrusts, the squish squelch noise of your cunt, echoing in your ears.

”Oh what a sweet doe you are my dear. I’ve always wonder what lied under that shy demeanor. And my my I wasn’t disappointed. A whore willing to spread her legs and be mounted.” You whimpered as he manhandled you onto your belly, knees barely supporting you as he slotted himself back inside you. You felt a heavy weight on your head, tugging to force your body to bounce on his cock.

when did your horns come in?

You hadn’t realized it, but you had transformed into your demon form.

and fucking hell were you gorgeous Alastor thought, hands wrapped around your slender horns and using them to control your movements.

Your tongue hanged out your mouth as your ass took the brute force of his thrusts. Alastor’s cock felt amazing.

Better than you could have imagined and so much better to scratch that lusty itch.

There was a puddle forming underneath you, soaking the bed, making the skin of Alastor’s thighs stick to yours.

Finally getting a look at your backside, Alastor felt his cock twitch as his eyes roamed down to where his cock was disappearing into you. His eyes zeroed in on your tail.

His hand dragged down your back, sharp claws cutting slightly to make blood ripple done your back. He wrapped his hand around your tail, softly twindling the tuft of fur before pulling.

A high-pitch moan left your throat. Your cunt clenched around him in response.

interesting he thought smiling as he used his grip on your tail to really make you take his cock deeper.

Your cunt was a soppy mess.

”Oh you like your tail pulled on dear? What a nautghty girl” Alastor chortled as he rocked his hips into you.

You were completely dazed with lust, that tingling knot forming in your stomach.

”please” you begged, pushing your hips against him, mewling as his hit the sponge that had you feeling sparks.

Alastor leaned over to your ear, never breaking his pace.

”hmmm? What was that dear?” He taunted cruelly.

”are you begging? What do you want doll? Cause I’m not going to stop til you’re filled with my cum. Is that what you want?”

You nodded “yes! Please please please let me cum! Cum in me- i w-want your cum please! Ha! Fuuuucckk” you whined, hand reaching underneath you to play with your clit.

”A-Al…please…breed me please i want it! I want it so bad!”

That had his cock twitch and hammer into you at record speed.

”oooh don’t worry your pretty head. You’ll get your fill”

Angled thrusts had your body jolting against the bed as you cried out, moaning so loud you were sure everyone in the hotel could hear you.

Alastor thought you were beautiful. How lovely you were covered in blood and sweat as he pounded you out. Your body went rigid before he felt your cunt flutter around him, milking him dry.

Your body slumped forward as he continue to ride out your orgasm.

”what a pretty doe, that’s a good girl. Milking my cock like a wanton slut. That’s it. I’m going to fill you up so good, I’m going to carve your cunt to only take my cock. You’ll like that wont you sweetheart? F-Fuck take it baby take it!” He grunted, snapping his hips into yours before he let out a loud growl, cock twitching before spilling his cum into you, painting your gooey walls white.

You let out a low whine feeling his warm goo fill you, before he pulled out, finally letting your body go.

You convulsed on the bed, panting as you felt his sticky spunk start to leak out of you.

Alastor sighed, rubbing your thighs as you came down from your high.

He chuckled “yes I think you’ll do just fine darlin”

Maybe heat cycles weren’t so bad after all…especially when there was a Doe ready to be filled with cum.

”Lovely”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #Its mating season for deers!!!

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yieldtotemptation · 4 months ago

Text

ALWAYS ft. Hanni

hanni x male reader smut

9k words

This used to be your least favourite part of the day.

Waking up alone, to nothing but an alarm that’s far too loud, a bed that’s way too firm, a dorm room that mocks your financial instability with its harsh coldness.

And that somehow, was the best-case scenario.

Beating getting kicked out of a library after passing out face first in a textbook, or booted off your best friend’s mouldy couch when his girlfriend wanted some alone time.

Or even, in your worst moment, getting yelled at by some stranger when you’re discovered on their bathroom floor in a pool of what you prayed to God was your own vomit.

All things of the past, since her.

Since Hanni—waking up was everything.

It starts, like it always does, in a tangle of limbs.

Most mornings, with Hanni’s face buried in your chest, cradled in your embrace, small puffs of breath tickling your neck. Others, with her back to you; pulling your arms around her, using the heat of your body like her coziest blanket.

One time on top of you; an exhausted smile plastered on her face, still basking in the afterglow of the night before.

She wrapped herself around you, refused to let go. Like there was a possibility that if she held you tight enough, she could bring you into her dreams.

That was the first day you truly saw her.

You talked about your pasts, your futures, shared your deepest vulnerabilities, made a million quiet confessions.

And when Hanni whispered: “I never want to go back.”

You pulled her closer, kissed her, and answered: “You’ll never have to.”

Since then, every morning always started with you holding her. Feeling her softness, her warmth, the calm rise and fall of her chest, as her exhales became your inhales and your breaths mixed together and synchronised.

This is how it had to be—how you both needed it to be.

So—now:

Nights and mornings since that promise; the sound of a guitar slipping into your ears.

It’s a recording she made for you, setting it as your alarm to make waking up a little more pleasant, to make sure the first thing you thought of when you opened your eyes was her.

Unnecessary, ultimately, seeing as the first thing you see when you wake up is her. Or, to be precise, her arm poking out from under the blankets, flailing about blindly.

“Off,” Hanni mumbles, fumbling around the bed, the nightstand, your face, seeking the offending device.

You stretch over her, a blanket on top of her blanket, and hunt down the invisible enemy that dared to interrupt your girlfriend’s peaceful slumber.

A muffled “thanks”, and she takes the opportunity to snuggle even closer.

There’s the smile quirking at the corner of her lips. Her nose, nuzzling closer into your chest, searching for your heartbeat. That pleased hum she’s making, letting you know there’s no place she’d rather be, like she’s completely content to stay all cozied up and warm for as long as you’ll let her (forever, if possible, please).

It’s hardly a tough sell—face the cold shower, the crowded buses and trains, the boring lectures that the rest of the day holds.

Or, stay wrapped up in the sanctuary of your (Hanni’s) bed. In fitted silk sheets, weighted duvets, plush pillows. Wrapped up in Hanni; in her very soft, very warm, very naked body.

It’s a no-brainer, really.

The rest of you, the more honest part of you that’s resting somewhere between her belly button and her thighs, seems to agree. It’s got a mind of its own, stirring to life, responding to the heat of her skin and the gentle pressure of her body; the familiar lines of her curves and the lavender scent of her hair.

She notices, of course.

It’s hard not to feel it, nudging against her, steadily growing with each passing beat, saying, ‘Hey, remember me?’

A kiss over your heart, a giggle into your sternum, and she’s up—sort of. She rolls onto her side, still in your embrace, but enough so that you can see the wry smile gracing her face, her sleepy eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

Chalk it up to whatever you want—relationship goggles, the honeymoon phase, or just the sheer joy of finding someone who actually cares about you—but when Hanni's looking like this, it's hard to believe you’re not dreaming.

The morning light kissing her rosy cheeks. The gentle pink of her full lips. Midnight silk hair curtaining her face. Her eyes.

A sweet, completely innocent question: “Having a good morning?”

She shifts, slightly.

An oh-so-incidental move that has the blanket sliding off her shoulder, down to her waist. It’s an invitation that you take, a proper wake-up call, from her collarbone to the curve of her hip. Softness and warmth, a stark contrast to the cold that whispers from the edges of the bed.

Hanni—your Hanni—leaving you with the implication: ‘Can I make it better?’

“Classes,” is all you say, because you have to at least acknowledge the responsibility, play the farce that you would actually abandon your (again—very warm, very naked) girlfriend for the sake of academia.

“It’s cold outside,” is her astute observation.

“Mhm.”

“It’s warm in here.”

“Right,” you nod.

“So,” she starts, bringing her hand up to your cheek, walking you through the incredibly simple, blatantly obvious logic. “Do you need any other reason?”

“Are you offering me one?”

Lips purse then pouts in that endearingly cute, Hanni way. “Does it help that I’m naked?”

“One would think that more clothes would be appropriate, considering the weather,” you posit, like you weren't already convinced long before she even opened her mouth. But, it’s still fun to pretend that her persistence doesn’t melt you every time.

“One would be wrong.” Hanni edges closer, her bare skin gliding over yours, so you can properly assess the merits of her argument. The tip of her nose brushing against your own, the softness of her breasts passing along your chest, and her hand at your cheek, then your neck, your stomach, and moving lower, and lower. “Body heat, you know?”

Her hand gets lower still. You swallow. “Yeah.”

“Like when it’s freezing and people get lost in a snowstorm.” She finds you, reaches into the waistband of your sweatpants, wraps her fingers around you, wakes you up.

“Or when girlfriends are trying to convince their boyfriends to stay in bed all day long,” you groan out. “Again.”

“Exactly,” Hanni says, a breezy air of finality, proud of herself for making you see reason—or rather, feel it.

You kiss her forehead, conceding the victory to her, and she scrunches her nose; preens. It’s a subtle movement, the kind that you’ve come to recognise as her victory dance. She squeezes your body closer to hers, her cheek squishing into your chest, her other hand wrapping around your neck, her legs curling up around your calves. It’s like she’s absorbing your affection, turning it into warmth she’ll keep with her for the rest of the day.

Her hand winds up and down, these long, lazy motions. Smooth and tender, stroking the length of you, her thumb tracing the vein that pulses along the side. She’s not in a hurry; not anymore anyway. Just, enjoying the moment, enjoying being with you, enjoying how obvious you are with your sighs and shivers.

“‘sides,” Hanni adds, taking a break to kiss around your jawline, your neck, your shoulder. “You deserve it. A perfect day of nothing.” She sounds so hopeful, so earnest, and there’s a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the friction of her hand on your skin. “We can order junk food, watch awful horror movies, and…”

“Just us.” A finger under her chin to tilt her head up, to capture those half-moon eyes with yours, to kiss her sweetly, deeply, remind her that she’s all you need to make a perfect day. “I wonder what I’ve done to earn this.”

“Not what you’ve done,” Hanni says in the breaths between your kisses. “What you’re going to do.”

With that, she uses all her weight to push you, rolling you onto your back, climbing over you with a grace that leaves you breathless.

She straddles you, legs draped over your hips, small breasts bouncing just a little with the motion. There’s mischief lighting up her eyes, that playful glint that precedes all good things. The blankets fall completely off her with a dramatic flourish, leaving her bare and exposed for your eyes to drink in.

A pause to appreciate her—to really look at her. From her flushed cheeks to the tips of her toes. Every curve, every darkened freckle, every soft, sweet inch of her—yours to adore, to touch, to explore.

And then, she winks.

You can’t help but laugh.

Hanni joins you, giggling in uncontrollable fits.

It’s the ridiculousness of it all, of Hanni—the girl who blushes when you hold her hand in public—straddling you with a wink and a promise of a day of pure carnal indulgence.

You both laugh until your cheeks hurt, until the tension breaks and you’re just two people in the cozy bubble of her bed, sharing a stupid, silly moment.

It takes a beat, but you both somehow recover, gasping for air between giggles. She settles herself, placing her hands on either side of your face, looking down at you with all the adoration in the world. Her touch grounds you, brings you back to the present.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” You ask, when you’re finally able to speak. “This is what you really want to do all day?”

“Well…” Hanni muses, sinking down to your waist, running her fingers over your t-shirt, stopping when she has the hem in her clutches. “A bit of this.”

She starts rolling your shirt up, sliding the cotton over your stomach. The cold air of the room kisses your skin before the warmth of her mouth replaces it. Her soft, plump lips meet your body, the small indent of your belly button.

Simple, innocent, playful. Hanni.

“A bit of that,” she continues, her hands keep moving, lifting the shirt higher, tugging it up and up, exposing your chest to her eyes, her lips.

She finds her target, a tongue over your nipple, paying you back for what you’re no doubt going to be doing to her later; flicking over your chest to make you hiss.

“A bit of me,” she adds, words vibrating against your chest, leaving goosebumps as she rises higher.

You lift your arms, allowing her to pull your shirt off your body, trapping you for a moment so she can suck at your neck, mark you as hers, and hers only. As if you didn’t already wear it on your face whenever she’s around.

“Doing a lot of you.”

Her eyes rake over you—your chest, your stomach, your abs. Lingering a touch too long, making her cheeks warm; colouring them with a soft blush that spreads from her neck up to her ears, hinting at the thoughts racing through her mind.

And then you're kissing her.

It’s gentle (your kisses always are) but that doesn’t make it any less passionate, any less intense.

She kisses you back, lips sliding over yours, the softness of her tongue tracing the line of your teeth, moaning your name in short stutters into your mouth.

It feels so right, so natural. The way she fits against you, feels on top of you, the perfect puzzle piece you’ve been desperate to find in a world full of mismatches.

It’s far too early to say it, but you know it—have known it.

You love her. Love how she lives in the moment; how even when you’re worried about the future, about deadlines and tomorrows, she can bring you back to the present and make things simple. In the least selfish way possible, she makes it about her.

(And that’s all you need).

It builds and builds; these slow, dragging kisses, these admissions of things that you’re not quite ready to say. Until you’re both well and truly needy for a touch more heat, as much of each other as you can possibly get.

You can’t hold it anymore, so you don’t bother trying.

With a firm grasp, you take Hanni’s hips in your hands, your thumbs pressing into vanilla skin as you pull her upward. It’s strategic, pull the best parts of her (which could be any part, really) closer, prove her earlier guess right by introducing her breast to your lips, her nipple to your tongue.

A million times you’ve repeated it and it won’t be enough—she’s so soft. Melting at your touch already, so responsive, letting you know she’s feeling it with every hushed gasp and shiver of her tight body.

One hand is filled by her other breast, a supple handful, spilling between your fingers, carelessly massaging as your mouth latches onto its twin. Her heart races, hammers against your palm, quickening with every passing flick, with each chaste suck between your lips.

Your other hand snakes lower, caressing the smooth plane of her stomach. You drag your fingertips over the ridges and valleys of her abs, down towards the juncture of her thighs.

She squirms.

Moans a little louder.

Scrapes the back of your scalp and pulls you in.

You’re insistent, your touch feather light as it grazes over the whispers of hair; trailing all the way down, down, where you ghost over her mound, tease her clit to make her gasp.

“Like that,” Hanni moans her approval, answers you with hips rocking against your hand. “So, so… nice.”

Your hand dips down further, parting her folds, sliding through her slick, greeted with the warmth and wetness of her opening. Soaking your hand, inviting you to delve deeper.

“Hanni,” you mouth around her nipple, “you’re so wet.”

“O-of course,” she manages, shuddering as you dare to ease a finger inside, pushing into her and pushing out a cry that fills the room. “It’s you.”

“It definitely is,” you confirm, stroking her walls with slow, deliberate care, feeling her tense around you with each movement. “And I’m just getting started.”

Her body arches, curves into you, tilting her head back and feeding you more of her; her breast into your mouth, her pussy on your fingers. You look up at her, feel her, memorise every little noise she makes, every twitch of her body as you touch her. Her breath skips as you start to move your finger in and out, a quiet pace to make her hips dance.

“This is a good idea.“ You’re pushing in deeper, adding a second digit to the mix, stretching her just so. She’s tight around you, always so tight, enveloping you in her heat, and there’s the urge to go even slower, to savour every moment. “Staying in all day. Making you feel good.”

Her legs tense, toned thighs flex as you curl your fingers up, pulling towards you just right to hit that spot that makes her mouth hang open, that makes her whine. There’s a plea in there, a silent request for more, for everything.

And you give it to her, because it’s what she deserves, because it’s what she’s asking for, because she’s yours.

She’s getting tighter around you, walls squeezing in. A prelude to something beautiful, something only you know how to give her, a skill you’ve picked up in this very same bed.

“God,” Hanni’s breaths are turning into short gasps, she’s so needy for it, for you. A slight tug of your hair, pulling you off her breast, forcing her nipple to ‘pop’ from your lips. She sinks down, further down onto your hand, her breasts dragging against your chest, her skin sticking to yours. “You’re such a tease.”

Her lips hang in front of yours, pillowy cushions begging for its partner—needing you to kiss her, now. You claim her mouth, let her be as loud as she wants on your lips; these delightful sounds when your hand moves faster, more insistent.

Arms hold you, wrap around your back, hugging you tighter, needing you to be as close as humanly possible. Hands everywhere—massaging your back, gripping in your shoulders, tangled in your hair, grabbing at your biceps—no matter how much of you she has, it’s just not enough.

Pliant is the other word to describe Hanni; so easy in your hands, like clay waiting for your touch. Waiting for you to mould her into whatever you want, even though you prefer her as she just is—all her perfect imperfections, beautifully flawed, wonderfully Hanni.

Another finger pushes into her; three now, moving in a steady rhythm, that slow, cautious manoeuvre that’s become so familiar. Sure, you could do it with your eyes closed, bring her to the brink and back with touch alone, but you’d miss the way she looks at you—the tears at the corners of her eyes, the tremble in her lips; like you’re her saviour, her everything.

“Hanni, you’re so—” you can’t put it into exact words—gorgeous, pretty, lovely—you test them out, but they all fall short, leaving you hanging until—

“Yours,” Hanni finishes, and that’s all you need, all you need to hear to make a vow to do everything in your power to keep her happy, to keep her here, to keep her—“always yours.”

She’s rocking on your fingers now, taking charge of her own pleasure, setting the pace that you so willingly match. It’s a give and take, and you take the chance to kiss at her neck, to nibble on the shell of her ear, to whisper to her all the things that create these little tremors in her thighs, that make her grip you tighter and tighter with each stroke.

She feels so good, so warm, so wet. Your hand is soaked, knuckles coated in her, making these noises. The muffled pop of skin on skin; the soft, sticky sound of wetness being parted; that satisfying squelch as you go in deep.

Hanni’s so close. So, so close.

Unwinding, melting in your palm; and that look. The way she smiles when she’s on that edge, because she’s so happy to be there, so happy that it's you that has her to be feeling this good.

But then—it’s the suddenness that gets you—she goes rigid, stops moving, begs, “Wait, wait, wait.”

It’s so unexpected, but you still do stop, fingers lodged inside her, pulsating with the urgency of her orgasm that’s just a heartbeat away.

She needs to hang onto you, to hold onto something as the world starts to spin again. Her pupils are blown wide, her cheeks a rosy pink that makes her look like she’s been running a marathon, sweat glistening over her, bathing her in this glow.

You look up at her, a soothing kiss on her cheek. “Problem?”

“No,” Hanni manages a gasp, reassuring you with a shaky smile, still doing her best to catch her breath. “I mean yes. I mean… It feels too good.”

You tilt your head. You smirk. “That’s a problem?”

“You always do this, you know?” Hanni chooses her words carefully, trying to break out of the haze of having almost been there, so she can properly articulate. “Make it about me when it’s supposed to be about you.”

You stifle your laughter against her neck, letting it vibrate through her skin. It’s her earnestness, really, that gets you sometimes; her concern for you, even now is too much, almost comical.

“I’m serious!” Hanni protests, though she’s betrayed by the wobble in her voice, that part of her begging to just let you do your thing and push her past the precipice. Her eyes flutter shut as she breathes in deep, trying to compose herself. “I want to make you feel as good as you always make me feel.”

Logic that you can’t argue with, not when it’s wrapped up in that sweet, sweet smile. You still attempt, though, “Hanni, making you feel good—”

“Makes me feel good—yeah, I know how it goes,” she finishes the line for you. “But, just. We have all day, so—"

There’s a point that’s finished by her kiss, specific in its tenderness, stealing whatever witty reply you had ready from your mouth.

“Let me start by taking care of you.”

It’s like you said—Hanni Pham, making it all about her, in the least selfish way possible.

You relent, bowing out to her whims.

“So, what do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” Hanni nods, satisfied with your compliance. She takes your wrists into her hands, guides them away from her body to keep them at your sides. “Just relax.”

It’s a strange feeling, letting go, letting her be the one to dictate the pace, the rhythm of your morning. You watch her, watch the way her eyes wander over you. She’s fascinated, like she can’t make up her mind of where to start.

But she does, eventually.

Her gaze settles on your arousal, standing proud and waiting underneath your sweatpants.

“How about I start—” a light kiss on your lips, and she’s slinking down to your waist, tugging at the string of your pants, “right here?”

A kiss on your stomach, just above your navel, her fingers slipping between your waistband and your skin. They pull at the fabric, dragging it down with care until it’s pooled around your thighs. Your cock springs free, and there’s this gasp she makes—like she hasn’t seen it a hundred times before.

“You’re so big.” Hanni’s in awe, her voice hushed, reverent almost. It’s always been something she says, something that makes you blush—swells the ego that you like to pretend you don’t have. “I still have no idea how this fits inside me.”

“It fits perfectly, remember?”

“Mm, I know, but—" she can’t find the words, so she settles for the next best thing, “damn.”

She’s smiling—always smiling—and you can feel her breath on you, light and sugary, these little pulses of anticipation tingling through your skin.

You hold your breath, waiting for her touch, waiting for her lips, waiting for her to finally take you in.

But she doesn’t. She’s just looking.

“Hanni,” you say, giving your cock a teasing flex, brushing it against her cheek. It’s a light prod to break the spell, to remind her of the task at hand.

“Oh!”

It’s getting unbearable, your cock just inches from her mouth, straining to reach her lips. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good.“ She presses another kiss to your skin, a little nibble to your inner thigh that makes you jolt. Her hands skim over your legs, pushing your sweatpants down further and further, down your thighs, over your knees right until it’s stuck at your ankles, thwarting her attempted sensual seduction.

She makes this frustrated 'argh!’ at the minor struggle. Very cute. Also a little ridiculous.

"Help, please?” She looks up at you, expectantly.

You acquiesce.

“Aha!” Hanni cheers, slightly louder than she may have intended, having won her battle against your pants. She catches herself, blushing, flashing a cheeky smile.

God, you’re going to fall in love with her all over again.

“Oh right. I mean, are you ready?”

So casual in how she says it, covering for her fumble. It makes you want to laugh—except you can’t, because before you can even open your mouth, she’s already leaned in, pressing her plush lips against the tip of your cock.

Lightly, so light it makes your hairs stand on end. A calculated tease, right hand around your cock, stroking your length. Her left reaches up, laces her fingers with yours. A squeeze, a preview of what’s to come.

You can’t help but twitch under her.

It's her lips, mapping a trail of kisses down your shaft, leaving a warm, sticky mess of pre-cum that she’s quick to lick away. It’s how she’s looking at you—so focused, like she’s been learning, been studying you, creating a personal database of everything that makes you tick.

But above all else it’s just the simple fact that she’s doing this for you, because she cares about you. Because she wants to make you feel good.

It’s all of it and it’s working.

“This is much nicer, isn’t it?” She asks, not really expecting an answer, because she knows it’ll be a resounding yes.

She’s playing with you, not giving you exactly what you want, but just enough. Her hand wrapped around the base of your cock, stroking you from root to tip, thumb circling your head with enough pressure to drive you insane.

It’s pain and pleasure wrapped up into one perfect package, and you’re not sure which one you prefer.

You let her know as such: “Actually quite torturous, to be honest.”

“But it’s the good kind of torture, right?”

“There’s a good kind?”

“We’ve got all day to find out,” Hanni teases, taking a fistful of her own hair in her hand, looping it into a tight, messy bun; preparing herself—giving you a final chance to do the same.

Hanni takes you into her mouth.

It’s not a sudden plunge, not a surprise attack bringing you straight to the back of her throat—it’s a slow, slow descent that has you gritting your teeth and biting back a groan.

It’s hot. Wet. Heavenly. You can feel every inch of your cock being coated in her saliva, her tongue dancing around your shaft, her cheeks hollowing out, her lips creating the most exquisite suction.

When she reaches as far as she can go, fills her mouth with as much of you as she can take, she starts to move back up. Slowly, so you can feel every little bump of her tongue, every little drag of her teeth.

Her hand joins in, moving in tandem with her mouth, stroking the parts of you she can’t reach. She’s trying to find the perfect balance, trying to find that sweet spot between too much and not enough.

Hanni’s no pro at this, her technique is in no way perfect—but she’s so willing, so keen to please. She takes her time, getting used to the feel of you in her mouth, her eyes peeking up at you every so often to gauge your reaction; studying your face for any sign that she’s doing it right, that she’s doing it well.

It’s adorable, really.

And oh, so hot.

You give it to her again, reassure her, “So good, baby,” because it is—your hips buck involuntarily, pushing deeper into her mouth.

It takes her off guard, but she does her best to adapt; she’s trying not to gag, trying to take it all in. She’s a fast learner, your Hanni.

Your compliment serves its purpose—she’s getting more confident now, her tongue gliding along the underside of your cock, tentative, exploratory. It’s clumsy, yes, but it’s cute, and most importantly—it feels good.

She’s concentrating, her attention entirely on your cock; her lips sealed tight. Each time her head bobs down, she takes you in deeper, millimetres, but still, deeper and deeper.

And it’s the sound of her sucking you in, getting sloppier, filling the room with those noises, the soundtrack to your morning. She’s getting bolder, finding her rhythm, building her pace. It’s not precise in any way, shape or form—sometimes she’s a little too rough, sometimes she misses the beat—but the effort.

A harsh suck has your cock popping out of Hanni’s lips, strings of her saliva still connecting her mouth to you. She looks up at you, wanting to check in, still needing that hit of validation, “Is this—is this good?"

You stroke her hair, let her lean into your touch. "Unbelievably. You’re doing great.”

“But I can make it even better, can’t I?” She asks, the determination setting in her features, and she’s staring straight into your eyes, hopeful, “Tell me. Tell me how you want it.”

It’s not a demand—it’s a question, a plea for guidance; she’ll do whatever it takes (whatever you want) to get you there. And it’s the sight of her, straddling your thighs, kneeling before you; those full lips hovering just about your cock, her hand lazily pumping away, keeping you there.

Somehow, you manage to get the words out, a rough whisper, “Take me deep, Hanni. As far as you can go. Take me all in. Show me how much you want it.”

It’s the instruction she’s been waiting for; she’s nodding before you’ve finished, so willing to oblige. It’s that part of her that you’ve discovered, the part she might not even know herself. But it explains so much.

(Hanni: the teacher’s pet, always needing to excel. Competitive, desperate for the highest grades in school, the top evaluations in training; desperate for you to tell her that it’s her and only her.

That’s what makes her successful. That’s what makes her eager.

And now that you’ve put the challenge before her, she can’t wait to prove herself.)

She takes a deep breath, swirls her tongue around the tip of your cock, dipping her toe into the water before she dives right in. It’s like she’s playing it out in her head, memorising the taste of you, the smell of you, the feel of you; mapping out the best way to take you all the way in right before she breaks you.

“Ready?”

“Always.”

And she goes for it.

Her mouth opens wide, eyes locked on yours, and she takes you in again.

Deeper, throat tighter.

Her eyes water a little, and she coughs, retreating. But she’s unfazed—still smiling, still eager.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s okay.”

You stroke her cheek, act like it’s not already far more than you can handle. “Take your time, baby. No need to rush.”

A deep inhale, and she's trying again.

It’s a process, her getting used to you, your size, your taste, the way you make her throat bulge. She’s slow, tentative, but with every stroke, with every gulp, she’s getting closer. Her cheeks hollow out more, her eyes water a little less, and she moans.

You can feel the anticipation building in your chest, your balls, the sweet ache of your orgasm just around the corner. And she can feel it too, your body tensing under hers, your breaths turning shorter, sharper.

The fifth time, she hits the back of her throat, and she stops—holds herself there, panting. It’s a moment of victory, a declaration that she’s got it right, that she can take all of you, just like you asked. Your cock is nestled at the back of her throat, there’s more tears now, but she’s smiling with her eyes, looking up at you through her lashes.

It’s so intense. You groan. Your hips jerk. “Good, baby, so good—don’t move.”

The look on her face, the satisfaction, the pride.

She swallows around you, working the muscles in her throat, pressing her tongue flat against the underside of your cock; it’s too much.

“Ha-Hanni—keep doing that—keep swallowing—it’s perfect—so perfect—”

It’s a struggle, but she does it, takes it all in, holds it there—just for you.

Her hands are at your thighs, grasping—not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know she’s there, that she’s with you. She coughs, gags, sputters bits of drool down your cock, but she keeps going.

And then, she pulls herself up, needing the air, pulling back with a long gasp; leaving a mess. Your cock slides out of her mouth, springing from her lips; her cheeks a vivid shade of red, glistening with lines of tears—beautiful, just indescribably beautiful.

“Was I good?” She’s asking out of courtesy, really. You’re sure whatever dumb look you’re wearing on your face is more than enough to confirm it.

But you nod and choke a ’Yes’ anyway, because you’re a gentleman, and words of affirmation are just as sweet as the act itself.

“I can do better.”

And before your mind can even catch up to what she’s saying, she’s sucking you back into her mouth. Now that she’s proven herself, she just has to push it even further, show you just what she’s capable of.

This time, she’s more assured, more confident. Her hands are at your hips now, holding you still, like she’s worried you’ll get away.

You won’t, of course. You couldn’t even if you tried.

Hanni’s bobbing her head; these long, deep sucks that have your fingers tangling in her hair, have you urging your hips to meet her mouth. Her eyes are watering more, she’s gagging more often than not, but she doesn’t stop, she just keeps moaning around you, keeps going and going.

She takes her hands off your hips, sliding one down to the base of your cock, holding it steady as she works you over and over. The other finds your balls, balancing them on her fingertips, rolling them around her palm. She’s figuring it out, figuring you out far too quickly, and it nearly has you coming undone.

And through it all, she’s grinning.

It’s a twisted, slightly pained grin, but it’s a grin nonetheless. She’s found her new favourite hobby, and she’s determined to show you just how much she enjoys it.

“I love this,” Hanni slurs against your cock, not really to you, not really to herself, just saying it out loud because it’s true. “I love being able to do this to you, making you feel so good.”

She’s saying these things, these simple words like they’re not dangerous at all, like whispering them against your cock is so harmless, like they don’t have the power to completely destroy your resolve.

“I love that it’s me,” Hanni keeps going, even when her tongue is occupied with licking you, lapping up your balls, the underside of your shaft. “I love that I’m the one who makes you feel this way.”

Gone is the shyness—she’s so smug now, so proud of herself, so in love with the fact that she has you exactly where she wants you: in her mouth, at her mercy.

It’s in the way she’s sucking you, her eyes closing, her hums of pleasure every time she takes you in—as deep as she can. She’s getting hotter on top of you, just from having you in her mouth, from taking you into her lips again and again.

Grinding herself into the mattress, needing a bit of friction, needing more. And that’s when she pulls away, panting for breath.

“Hanni?” You ask, finding your voice, letting go of a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“It’s too much,” she admits, breathless, her hand still wrapped around your cock, stroking you gently, almost apologetically. “I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s too much.”

There’s a shift in the air—in Hanni. Usually, typically, soft. Now wild, desperate.

She’s climbing up you, back on your hips, her wetness smearing onto your skin, her thighs trembling on either side of yours.

"I need it, I can’t wait anymore. I just can’t.”

The suddenness, the urgency in her voice (in her body). Hanni, flushed, practically shaking with need.

“I need you—now.”

It’s so tempting—you could give in easily. And yet, there’s something in how she’s asking you, how she’s using innuendo in place of propriety, dancing around saying what she really wants in plain, explicit terms.

It’s not enough.

She’s already got you on the edge, so close you can almost taste it. But you need to hear it from her. Your sweet, adorable girlfriend, saying something so dirty it’ll make your knees buckle.

So, you sit up, shifting slightly so she’s still straddling you, face to face. Cradling her cheek with one hand, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes; so you can look at her—take in all the tiny beautiful inflections that make her your Hanni.

“What do you need?”

Always with the blushes, but she holds your gaze, not breaking it even when you run your hand back down south, reaching to slip a finger through her folds, finding her still so wet and swollen. She gasps, but she doesn’t look away.

“Tell me, Hanni,” you coax, your finger moving in gentle circles, watching her face, watching the way her pupils dilate, the way her breath catches.

Hanni stutters, “You—I want you—need you—". But you just chuckle, slow down the pace of your finger, giving her a taste of the frustration she’s unintentionally been dishing out.

“Not quite specific enough. What part of me do you want?”

She’s biting her lip, squirming under your touch—she’s not used to this. Not used to anything outside of the usual playfulness, the sweetness; the gentle strokes and soft whispers. But something has you feeling different today.

Maybe it’s the excitement of trying something new. Maybe it’s how unusually forward she’s being. Or maybe, just maybe, part of you has always wanted to hear her beg.

She blurts it out: “Your—your cock!”

“And what do you want me to do with it?” You press, stroking her clit now; her chest heaving, these tiny whines escaping her, and the way she’s looking at you. Like she’s getting ready to pounce.

“Please—just—please, I need—”

“Need me to slide it in slow?” You suggest, kissing her neck, her perfect, porcelain skin. “Give it to you nice and deep?“

Hanni’s rolling her hips on you, grinding herself against your hand, trying to get through to your cock, trying to will it to enter her.

“Go ahead, be honest.”

She’s bothered. Annoyed—almost angry, if that’s even possible for her. Like how could you? How could her kind, loving boyfriend go out of his way to put her in such agony.

“Tell me, baby. What does Hanni want?”

“I—I need your cock inside me—I want you to—” Hanni swallows takes a deep breath.

A final push: “Say it.”

“Fuck me, hold me and fuck me. Deep, hard, slow—however you want just fuck me now.”

The words come out in a rush, spilling out of her lips. Even she’s surprised as she’s saying them, in disbelief that she’s even capable of saying something so filthy out loud.

But she’s not taking it back, she’s not apologising.

No, she’s taking hold of your hand, moving it out from between her legs, and replacing it with your cock, daring you to stop her.

Like you could ever.

You push in, inch by delicious inch, watching her face contort, features twist, feeling her stretch around you.

It’s the same every time—it feels like the first time all over again.

Her eyes squeeze shut, mouth parted in a wordless plea, and you’re moving so slow. So slow that she’s whimpering, begging, hips trying to push you deeper. But you keep it steady, setting the tempo, let her get used to the feeling of being made whole by you again.

“Oh, oh, oh—” Hanni pants, trying to keep her voice down, but it’s pointless. She’s failing already, loosening a strained 'fuck' when you bottom out, when your cock is finally, completely inside her.

You hold her like that; your arms around her, hugging her tight, her breasts squished against your chest. She’s so small in your arms, so soft, so warm; her pulse racing against your own, lapping it twice over.

“You okay?” You ask, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

“More than okay,” she sighs, holding onto you, moulding her body onto yours. “More than okay—just need a minute to adjust. Don’t worry about me—you can—you can make me feel good.”

So, you do.

Lifting her body off you, unsheathing your cock from her warm embrace, until only the tip is trapped in her wetness. Then: guiding her back down, a touch quicker, harder, deeper. And there’s that gasp as she takes you back in, as you fill her.

You’re moving with purpose now, her walls tight and wet and hot around you, clenching and releasing in time with your slow, deliberate thrusts.

Hanni’s breasts bounce in front of you, up and down with every pump, small peaks begging for attention. You’re kissing them again, sucking one into your mouth, suckling on the pink tips.

“So beautiful,” you’re repeating it, speaking it into her skin, because it’s all that’s on your mind as she takes you in. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

And she looks it too, even though she’s not even trying; with her hair falling out of her bun, sticking to her face with sweat and saliva, her mouth hanging open, swollen and red from your kisses, her body writhing and jerking with every thrust.

Yet she remains focused, eyes glued to yours, like she’s afraid if she looks away she’ll miss something. Like if she doesn’t keep watching, she’ll wake up and find out it’s all been a dream.

But it’s not.

It’s you and her, in this bed, the sun peeking through the curtains, her naked body riding yours, hotter and hotter with each pass.

It’s you and her, together, wrapped up in each other making love like the world outside doesn’t exist.

It’s you and her, and it’s—

“So perfect—you feel so perfect,” Hanni finishes your thought for you, finishes each of your thrusts with her own hips; opening her body up to you, welcoming you in deeper with each stroke. “I think I’m gonna cry it feels so good.”

Her legs lock around your back, heels digging into your spine, until you’re fully seated inside her; so deep it feels like you’re a part of her. With a whine that’s half pleasure, half need, Hanni braces herself on you, rolling her hips on your cock, grinding down, taking as much of you as she can.

You grip her tight, one hand around her back, the other under her ass, fingers squeezing into the soft, tender flesh. Bouncing her up and down, watching her face as she takes you, as she keeps repeating ‘so perfect’.

And you know, you know she’s not just talking about the physical—that’s definitely there. It’s how you’re making her feel, it’s the connection. The way you’re looking at her, the way you’re holding her, the way you’re loving her that has her floating.

“I-I think I’m ready,” Hanni whimpers, “I can take it—you don’t need to—don’t hold back anymore.”

With a grunt, a nod, and a choked ‘Hanni’, you’re sweeping her up, keeping your cock buried deep inside her as you lift her. Your hand cushions the back of her head as you lay her down on the bed beneath you, her legs spreading wide on their own to accept you.

A moment to steady herself, to prepare.

A smile. A kiss on her forehead.

And then you’re in, all the way, again. Completing her pussy with your cock; one swift motion that knocks the wind out of her in the sound of your name.

“God—Hanni—”

It shouldn’t be like this—it should be impossible to be this much hotter, this much wetter, this tight.

But she is.

She’s squeezing herself around you, muscles, thighs flexing. Eyes shut, mouth wide open because there’s no way to stop from crying out; and her body, her lovely, perfect body, arching up to meet your every thrust.

You give it to her.

You’re building up speed, stretching her wide, hips moving in that perfect rhythm you’ve discovered together—the one that makes your name echo off the bedroom walls.

Hanni’s whimpering, mewling, whining, “Tell me—tell me how good it feels.”

You tell her everything—how tight, how wet, how perfect she is. You praise her, shower her with very compliment that comes to mind. She eats them up; her lips leaving marks on your neck, your shoulder, her fingers on your back, her hips swallowing you whole.

But Hanni still needs more, needs to hear more. Not just that she’s good, not even that she’s perfect. She needs to hear that she’s only yours.

“Like heaven, Hanni,” you manage, your voice hoarse, strained. “So perfect for me. Only me.”

“Really?” Hopeful. Ecstatic. So turned on.

“Always,” you repeat, the truth echoing in your voice and across her skin. “Always so perfect.”

“Mmm,” Hanni moans, nodding along, soaking in every word that flows freely from your lips.

“You’re so beautiful, Hanni. Your pussy is so perfect.” You kiss her again, a little harder this time, a little more possessive. “I love how you fit around me.”

Her breath catches in her throat, there’s that spark in her eyes, and she’s taking you deeper, urging you on. “Oh-oh. Keep talking—please—keep talking.”

“Made for me, aren’t you Hanni?” You continue, the steady stream of praise and admiration, caressing her as surely as your cock in her pussy. You can’t get enough, can’t get over how perfect she feels, how right it is to be inside her. “Like a perfect glove around me.”

Her eyes meet yours, her smile shy as she whispers your name. Whispers it like it’s a prayer, like it’s the only word she knows (like it’s the only thing that can give her peace).

She’s so close, getting there, it’s in how she’s pulling you closer; with her arms and her pussy. How she’s saying please, with a little quiver in her voice, alternating it with your name when you hit that spot just right.

“This feels so good, but-but-I think—” Hanni’s voice cracks, even now, still so shy, so adorable. She’s gasping, out of breath, trying her best to string the words together. “C-can I? Can I please cum?”

It’s all you need to hear. You kiss her, hard and deep, push into her. “Of course, baby,” you say, “Do it. Do it for me. I want you to cum for me.”

The effect it has on her—how it ripples across her face. She’s so thankful. So, so thankful for your permission, for what you’re doing to her. “Then please—please don’t stop.”

Harder, faster, deeper now—making her unravel beneath you. Hands holding her in place, feeling her, feeling her tense, quake around you.

Keep going, because she’s almost there, because she’s repeating it, that desperate ‘please’, over and over again.

‘Please-please-please’—with every thrust, saying it without saying it, with every clench of her walls, with every little gasp she lets slip.

Because that’s what she is—who she is—at her most honest, her most vulnerable. Pleases and thank yous on her lips, a constant stream of gratitude for you, for being here with her, for making her feel so much.

“Thank you,” Hanni manages, words almost a moan. “Thank you for making me feel like this, for making me feel so—”

But she can’t finish the sentence, can’t find the words to explain the storm that’s building inside her. So she just says it again, rising in pitch each time as the pressure builds. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you—’

Her nails dig into your shoulders, the first time she’s ever inflicted anything close to pain on you; begging you to stay in place, to not move, to not pull out. You feel her need, feel it in your bones, feel it from the heat of her pussy.

“Feels so—” Hanni’s crying, sobbing now, trembling uncontrollably. You’re holding onto her, deep inside her, giving all the time she needs to let it out. “—so good, so deep, so, so much—”

She gasps. She tightens. She screams.

Hanni’s voice breaks off into a keening wail as it all comes crashing over her; and you don’t stop, can’t stop, can’t do anything but keep her tethered to you as she loses herself to her climax.

“Please—don’t pull out—please—don’t stop—please—please—please—”

She shudders, clenches around you, pussy tightening in the sweetest way possible. It’s that look on her face, saying everything she can’t manage to say, everything she can’t put into words—how much she loves you, how much you complete her, how much she needs this.

It’s a wave, pulling you under, and you let it take you, let it sweep you away until you’re drowning in the feeling of her coming apart around you, under the heat of her eyes and the grip of her body.

Her juices all over your cock, her pussy spasming around you, that blissful agony on her face. Hanni’s so sweet when she cums, so damn gorgeous, it just takes your breath away. She’s perfect, so perfect it hurts.

And as she comes down, as she rides out her orgasm and kisses your name into your lips, she begs of you, once last time: “Your turn.”

With strength you didn’t know she still had, her legs pull you in, anchoring you to her. Her walls pulse, her body begs for you to follow.

And you do.

“Give it to me, please, cum for me, love—”

You let go. Let the tension in your body melt away as you thrust into her one, two, three more times. Until you’re releasing, until you’re cumming, until everything’s white-hot pleasure and Hanni on your tongue.

Load after load inside her, a hot, deep stream that leaves you groaning, that leaves her sighing, panting, joyful. Filling her up until she’s complete, until she’s overflowing.

You cum hard and fast, and Hanni tries her best to keep up, tries to take it all, and she’s smiling—laughing even, the joy of making you feel this good lighting up her features.

“H-Hanni—” you try, your cock twitching inside her, your cum spilling out of her and onto the bed, onto your thighs.

She’s kissing you, kissing your neck, letting you make your mess; your glorious mess of cum and sweat and saliva and her.

It feels so good, everything feels so good about her, everything she’s doing. She’s holding you so tight, so greedily, shivering with every throb of your cock inside her, savouring every moment of your release.

There’s a moment of silence, where you just lay there, bodies entangled, hearts racing, breaths mingling. Just looking at each other, basking in the thickness of sex and satisfaction.

And Hanni smiles, so wide it could split her face in two, a smile that says she’s never been happier.

Then, with a sigh, she relaxes, her legs loosening, ankles unlocking behind you. You roll onto your side, pulling her with you, keeping her close. She’s still with you, still keeping your cock inside her, and you can’t help but feel like this is it.

This is home.

“Best. Morning. Ever.”

She laughs. “I don’t want to get up. Don’t ever want to leave this bed.”

“I don’t think I can get up,” you admit somewhere into her hair.

And then it hits you. Something in the air, something in the light hitting her naked body, something in that blissful expression on her face.

It spills out of you before you can stop it: “I think I’m in love with you.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, and she pulls back just enough to look at you, to read your face. “Careful, we’ve got all day for that kind of talk.”

But she doesn’t protest as you hold her tighter, feel the warmth of her body, the smell of the skin, the way she nests into your side. Fitting perfectly—like she’s always been there.

So yeah, you may have said it too early, but whatever.

Today’s the day for breaking normal rules and codes of conduct.

For breaking routines. For her.

For the promise of a long day filled with nothing but lazy kisses, whispered secrets, the sweet taste of her skin.

For staying in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, forgetting the outside world.

For more of this. Of Hanni. Of this perfect, perfect feeling.

So, you stay there. Not moving, not speaking. Just holding onto the moment, as the sun rises higher and higher in the sky.

And as your eyes start to drift close, as you sink into the comfort of the mattress, with her in your arms and on your mind, and you’re thinking this day couldn’t get any better, Hanni whispers:

“Idiot. I’ve always been in love with you.”

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