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ino-takumas-baggy-sweater · 11 months ago

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The Blessing to Your Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Hey y’all I’m back again so soon with another fic, Sukuna’s lover reincarnation (whatever you call it) has me in a chokehold right now and I thought I’d share this with the world. Would like to warn you there is a lot of strange jumping around/pov changes which are indicated by the change in pronouns, I would mark each change but it would get a bit messy after a while so I hope it’s not too hard to follow! ^-^

Reader’s powers involve something I like to call ‘blessed energy’ which is the opposite to cursed energy and is mostly used for healing (reverse blessed energy is used to harm in the same way reverse CE is used to heal) and it’s something I created to use with my writings in the JJK universe. (sometimes I write it a little op because im a self-indulgent piece of shit so for most of what I post I’ll probably dial it back if I use it hehe) The reader has a similar situation to Maki/Mai (MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD) where one twin is restricted and the other has all the energy, and when the one with the energy dies the living twin gains all the power, so I hope that makes sense in context of the story

(PLEASE DON'T HESITATE TO SEND A REQUEST!!!! I'M ALWAYS IN NEED OF NEW PROMPTS AND CHARACTERS TO GO WITH THEM ❤)(I have a post which outlines characters I mostly write for but I'm open to adding to that list!!)

Warnings: mild description of mutilation (sukuna’s transformation), main character death (not described), fluff

Word count: 2.4k

“Ryomen!” You laugh, trying to keep a few steps ahead of the young man who chases after you. Your legs tire easily, body frail and sick despite the immense power flowing through your veins. “I’m coming for you!” He growls playfully, “Better run!” He’s holding back from his top speed, this you know well, but you refuse to let that stop you from trying to keep up with his childish play. Still young, 16 and 17 with him being the older one, you insist that you would rather spend the rest of your life here with him than being shepherded around in the village like a priestess.

This is your only escape from the temple on the hill, only solitude, your time with Ryomen Sukuna is precious and you treat it as such, thinking only of him and his rare smiles. You refuse to let the village’s words taint your view of him, as powerful as he is with his cursed energy there is good in him and you seek to nurture it, for both simple selfish gain and so he doesn’t turn on everyone like they did him. You reach the treeline and race out into the meadow, the grass tall and soft around your waist having stripped down from your daily ceremonial robes into just modest loose undergarments.

He does eventually catch up near the middle of the meadow, springing out of the grass and tackling you to the ground, making sure to roll so you land on top of him and he takes the full force of the fall. The last time you returned to the village after a long day of simple play with bruises and scrapes you weren’t allowed to leave the village for a few weeks.

He’s grown quite a lot larger than you during his time in exile, to be expected when you have to fend for yourself against wild animals and build your own shelter, “You’re getting stronger every day,” You smile, pushing yourself off him and laying in the grass, staring up at the beautiful pink of the sunset. “Well I have to, to be able protect you, I’m not the only thing out there you know,” He says, his tone almost too blasé for what he’s implying. You tilt your head and trace the lines of his tattoos with your eyes, “I know you’re not, but you’re not a thing to me Ryomen,” You murmur, “Please, you’re the closest thing I have to a friend, you’ve always been human to me,”

He meets your gaze, his eyes used to be brown, but the red no longer worries you like it used to, “One day I’ll get you out of that village,” He says softly, his words for your ears and the rustling grass only, “I will take you far away from here and we can live somewhere untouched by the rest of the world,” You sit up, looking down at him as you hug your knees to your chest, “I’d like that,” You say, smiling, “Just the two of us,” Nothing could touch you while you were together, the world stood still for you, not even the scathing remarks you sometimes got from the other young girls of the village could hurt you.

The world is volatile, things can change so quickly. Curses are still so new to the world of humans, sorcerers that act as protectors are only just starting to appear among humans and spread themselves between villages when the day finally comes. The wave of hatred and anguish that came with the curses suffocated everything in its path. You were outside the village when it happened, returning from a visit with Sukuna, and you returned to find nothing but death and destruction. More than half of the village had been killed with no discrimination towards age or gender, and it only soothed you a little to see your old family home empty when you wrenched the door open. No blood nor bodies of any kind. Your parents and sister had made it out alive, but the temple atop the hill that you resided in was completely engulfed.

You weren’t naïve, you did not attempt to return to the temple, but they came for you all the same because your energy was like a beacon for them, and they were programmed to destroy. Running with Ryomen had improved your strength over the time you spent together, you supposed that was one of the ways he took care of you in his silent brooding way, but it wasn’t enough to get you all the way to him. He must have sensed your fear as you grew nearer, your breaths shallow and your chest tight, his eyes are the last thing you remember seeing before your soul was harshly liberated from your flesh.

The smell of blood permeated through layers of warmth that held you in suspension beyond life, but you felt yourself being dragged back to the ground, standing over your own body as you watch the only person outside of your immediate family who ever truly cared for you cry. You had never seen him cry before, it was cathartic to know even he still felt human somewhere inside while holding your weak broken body to his bare tattooed chest.

You felt his cursed energy filling the air like smoke, almost able to see it in the purgatory state you’re trapped in, his body shaking and his muscles twitching. It was like watching someone turn themselves inside out when it finally happened, his body began changing before your eyes, an extra pair of arms sprout from the top of his ribcage just under the normal ones. His face contorts with an agonized cry and one half becomes unrecognisable, the flesh pink and hardened into some sort of twisted mask, and to finish the monstrous transformation a second pair of eyes open under his regular ones.

Drenched in sweat and breathing heavily as he cradles you, you hear him make one last promise, one that locks around what remains of your essence like chains and puts you into a deep sleep. “I will burn this world for taking you from me, I will become the King of Curses, and when you are reborn I shall make you remember, make you my Queen, I will bind myself to you to protect you,” It’s the final part that reassures you he isn’t losing himself as the darkness consumes you, “When I find you, the world will be right once again,”

Now it had been over a thousand years since the light in Sukuna’s life had gone out, reducing him to a killing machine that punished the world for snuffing it out, and he had returned once more in the body of a naive 15 year old boy with pink hair. Having been preserved as twenty separate cursed objects since his untimely death he was eager to resume his self-assigned purge, but the boy had more control over his body than Sukuna could break through, leaving him trapped within his innate domain watching through Yuji Itadori’s eyes like they’re windows.

“I had to do it at least once,” He grumbles to himself as the boy sits up, stark naked, on the morgue table, surprising the three sorcerers in the room with the formerly dead boy. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Yuji, come,” Gojo instructs as the boy slips on some clothes handed to him. “Another sorcerer?” He asks. “You’ll see when we get there,” The taller man beckons him and they make their way to a house on the furthest outskirts of the Jujutsu high campus, small in size and surrounded by forest on all sides except for the path leading up to the entrance.

A fire burns in the chimney and the house is warm when the pair steps inside, “L/n!” Gojo calls out. Sukuna’s attention is elsewhere as around the corner down the hall out walks a pure angel, her energy blinding and her form strong. “Gojo!” She smiles, “Who’s this?” “This is Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel,” She bows politely, “Welcome to my home,” She looks back up into Yuji’s eyes as he smiles, “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Enchain!” Sukuna shouts, and suddenly he’s thrown violently to the forefront of Yuji’s mind. His trump card, wasted. He hadn’t considered the potential consequences, it had been instinctual and foolish of him. The girl didn’t know who he was, but he wanted to speak to her all the same. He would make her know. He cannot stumble, he cannot falter, not when she’s right there and all he has to do is show her, “Y/n,” He murmurs. “That’s not Yuji,” She frowns, her voice soft, “That’s-” Before the two can react Sukuna is on his knees before her, holding her hands in his and hiding against her soft clothing. “I’ve…” Gojo trails off, “I’ve never seen that before,” The girl doesn’t let him go, and he feels her power reach into him, feeling around in the darkest parts of his soul, “My Queen,” He mutters, feeling the metaphysical chains around his heart tighten, “Please, remember,”

A fast surge of energy from Gojo causes the man on his knees before you to react just as quickly, pulling you tighter against him and then seemingly teleporting out the open door into the clearing, “It’s rude to attack ROYALTY!” He roars as Gojo steps out the door after the pair of you. Sukuna has planted himself firmly between the two of you, “You sorcerers never learn manners!” Something happens when your skin next touches his, his hand shooting out to catch you by your wrist as you fail to keep your balance.

A flood of memories that don’t belong to you, in fact, ones that belong to him. You see yourself, weak and frail but smiling widely, Sukuna as he is in front of you now not as he is described in sorcerer texts. A regular human man with an abnormal amount of tattoos, fiercely protective and full of love for the only person who still sees him as human. You vaguely feel yourself fall to your knees as everything from the day he was exiled to the day you died returned to your mind. You knew that despite the life you had lived for twenty years, you were in fact over a thousand years old.

This wasn’t your life, this wasn’t your body, it was hers, but you are her. You can feel the chains, too, the ones he put there the day you died to ensure that you would return. “The world took her from me, and the world paid the price, now BACK OFF!” His words shake you out of your visions, his hand still clutching your wrist as your head hangs weakly.

“Come now, Sukuna, taking hostages isn’t your style, you know that,” Gojo bargains, “Let her go, and we can fight like men,” You shake your head, “No,” You murmur, “No, Gojo,” You finally look up into his eyes, slightly uncovered as he prepares to fight, “He’s right, I know who I am, I know where my clan comes from,” He doesn’t make a move towards you and you take the opportunity to speak again, “My mother was blessed, her child would calm the beast, but she had two and one was weak in body strong in energy, the other was lacking in energy but strong of body,” Your sister had been the one the clan records mentioned, nobody remembered the girl who died alone in Ryomen Sukuna’s arms.

“I am the Queen to Ryomen Sukuna’s King,” You breathe, feeling his grip on your wrist go lax. His energy dies away and he falls to his hands and knees, but the tattoos are gone. “Yuji!” Gojo’s shoulders finally relax and he recovers his eyes, “What happened? How did he get through?” “Don’t ignore me, Satoru,” You state firmly, “Sukuna will not be a threat while I am alive,” “Can you guarantee that?” He’s always been intimidating, but this man was a part of your training as a sorcerer, and he can be rational when he wants to be.

“You’re an imbecile if you think I’m going to go back on a binding vow,” Sukuna spits from Yuji’s cheek, the boy not even having a chance to get a word in, “She is the only thing in this forsaken world I care about and you’re not about to take that away from me just so you can pretend like you’re the saviour of humanity,” You don’t remember ever being as harsh as Sukuna is right now, but his rage fills you with confidence and admiration, “I can guarantee humans will not fall as long as I am alive, his vow makes sure of it, though I’m sure he would not need it either way,”

The secondary eye on Yuji’s cheek closest to you locks its gaze onto you, “Ever so cunning, I wish I’d had the chance to nurture your hatred towards the village, maybe you’d be more open to killing,” He sounds almost wistful, “But alas, I did make a promise, and I intend to keep it, no matter how idiotic I think you sorcerers are,” You finally move to stand back on your feet, helping Yuji up with a tentative smile, “It’s nice to meet you Itadori,” You murmur, “I’m sorry you have to listen to that punk, you come to me if he gives you trouble alright?” The boy nods, his previously cheery demeanour replaced with something mellower and he seems deep in thought as he looks into your eyes.

“He really loves you,” He murmurs in disbelief, “I didn’t… I didn’t think he was truly capable of love, after what he did to me,” You shrug, “It’ll make sense one day, but I’ll let him be the one who opens up, it’s not my place to air out thousand year old dirty laundry with people who are long dead anyway,” Your words hang in the air as Gojo finally sighs. The discussion and conclusion are finalised when he leaves, Yuji will live with you and you will suppress Sukuna’s energy. You will keep the world safe by preserving your life, lest another binding vow come down upon your departing soul and the King of curses be forced to unleash his merciless fury once more.

Sukuna is a little shit and out of character because it’s my fic and I get to write the male love interest however I want (I tried besties :( I don’t like mean Sukuna but I do love “I hate everyone but you” so that’s what you get) also I wrote this instead of sleeping at 2am, the brainrot is real and this will probably end up being a series because I can’t control myself

Part 2 here!

Post dividers from @cafekitsune

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #ryomen sukuna #yuji itadori #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk sukuna #heian era #jjk x reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 11 months ago

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peppermint gum, m | jjk | and burst forth

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

It’s impossible to fall in love when you’re already in love. And Jeon Jungkook was in love. Helplessly. But what could he do? Time passed. The world became tasteless to his eyes. All he could do was hold onto the crisp and intense color of those memories, remember her words, and wonder where she was now. Savor, and burst forth.

click here for part i | this is part ii | total wc: 25k

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse - child neglect and abandonment; sloooow burn; mild alcohol consumption; hardcore pining JK; angst and fluff and feels; (in part ii) smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamic, so much kissing, hair pulling, scratching / marking. grinding, choking, m-receiving oral, finger sucking, fingering, nipple play, m-masturbation, thigh riding, edging, penetrative sex, doggy, multiple orgasms); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV; from lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again :)

non-idol!AU; pining!Jungkook x noona!reader — ft JK’s helpful? friends Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin; reader’s close friend and talented guitarist, Kang Hyungu (ONEWE’s Kanghyun if you want to see his appearance, hehe, same personality); JK has all his piercings and has hair (lol)

Jungkook woke up with crusty eyes and on top of the love of his life.

Sexy.

Not.

He woke up with a start, the last dregs of an icy and panicked nightmare clawing at him. He couldn’t even remember what happened. The only way he could describe the sensation was that it was as if the color blue had become an emotion. Which was crazy talk, but honestly at this point what was new? After all, Jungkook was peeling his eyes open with effort and seeing the most beautiful sleeping face under him, even with the dark circles under her eyes.

He froze.

Oh, shit, what have I done?

A frown flitted over her features.

Her eyes opened a crack.

He squeaked and immediately ducked. Shoved his face into her chest, hurriedly wiping away at his face with the cuffs of his sleeves. I can’t show my face like this, I look so stupid and pathetic, I–

“Jungkook?”

Her voice was low and unused.

“What… What the fuck are you doing?”

He could still feel the residual ache between his eyes from crying so much, but at least he had cleaned up his eyes and felt a little less like a crispy bun left in the oven too long. “I…” Pausing, but the truth came tumbling out anyway. “I didn’t want you to see me ugly…”

He mumbled into his hands.

She snorted and Jungkook jumped as her hands settled in his waist, squeezing him, only now realizing that his sweatshirt paws were on top of the curve of her breasts. Thankfully, she was clearly wearing a padded bra under. How she slept in it was beyond him. Then again, she managed to sleep with a whole ass man on top of her, although his lower body was in between her legs.

She held onto him.

“Believe me, I’ve seen ugly. You’ll never be close to ugly in my eyes.”

She said it sleepily and with her head tilting back to stretch her neck. He couldn’t say anything. How could he? Oh, sure, if he was unserious, and he opened his mouth to joke back but nothing came out. He almost wanted to cry again. Instead, he shut his mouth and trembled, trying not to put too much weight onto her. She either didn’t care or had enough grace to not comment.

“You still snore pretty bad.”

“S… Sorry.”

She cracked her neck and exhaled over his head.

Her hands relaxed and slid over his lower back.

His eyes widened, overwhelmed by the cool, heady rush swirling through his body at her touch.

“I got used to it then, so I guess it’ll just take time,” she murmured.

For a second.

For a fleeting, perfect second, Jungkook was held by his most precious memory.

Then, she patted him in the back and her hands retreated. A soft groan and her palms planted onto his chest, lightly pushing him away, wiggling under him. He promptly backed up, turning his head away and hiding his disappointment, but she didn’t look in his direction, stretching and yawning, pointing towards the bathroom, go ahead and get washed up, I’ll get you a towel for your face, and he latched onto the suggestion to scurry away, trying not to seem too hurried, his large black parka carelessly falling onto the floor with a heavy thump.

It was suddenly cold and far too bright.

But he couldn’t run back to her.

His head snapped towards the mirror the second he burst into the bathroom.

I look like shit.

The pink flush on his cheeks deepened to red as he approached the sink, dropping his head and turning on the water. Splashing his face and gasping at the cold. Fuck, I am such an idiot. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be cool, calm, and collected and sweep her off her feet with his newfound coolness. Instead, he had broken down and cried like a child in her arms until he passed out from all the emotional energy he expelled. Great. Way to look dumb, Jeon Jungkook. He scrubbed at his face with his palms, hoping to peel off a layer and reveal a better man, as if he was some kind of golden onion and not a fractured, incomplete, whiny little bitch.

“Hey. Hey! Maybe you’ve heard of the term facial peel, but what you are doing is not what the term means.”

Jungkook jumped at the interruption, and was greeted with a plop to the face from a fluffy white towel. His reflexes caught it right away, pressing it to his cheeks, embarrassed again. All he could muster out was a t-thanks, and then he started again as he felt her crouch and open the cabinet under the sink, accompanied by sounds of clunking.

“Here. Pick a toothbrush. Pink or purple?”

He yanked the towel off his face and saw himself in the mirror, his half-wet black hair sticking straight up, and then he looked down, startled and wide-eyed. She raised an eyebrow at him, down on one knee and prosing the choice of a light pink toothbrush in one hand and a lavender-colored one in the other.

She shrugged. “Sorry. Last ones in the multipack are these colors. I save the fun colors for guests so they can distinguish themselves.”

He glanced at the one in the holder and it had a black handle.

“Uh… I guess I’ll take the purple…”

He took it, careful not to made skin-to-skin contact.

She disappeared under the sink again.

“I have a travel toothpaste if–”

He jerked his head, his mouth full of suds.

“Or you can just use mine,” she said slowly, lowering her hand. She shoved the travel toothpaste back under the sink, presumably in its previous hiding place. “Not like we haven’t swapped spit before, I guess.”

He tried to apologize, but she stood up, waving it away.

“What do you want for breakfast?” she asked, taking her toothbrush and starting her own routine.

It felt…

Normal.

Shockingly, unbelievingly, scarily normal. Her and him, in close quarters, standing beside each other and sharing the mirror and the space. Similar to his small apartment back then. Similar to the tiny hotel rooms they sometimes visited when his previous roommate was there. These days Jungkook had a bigger apartment and lived alone. Just like her, it seemed. She had was a clean and modern bathroom, but he saw her touches all around it. The black cherry scented lotion. The large dark gray bath towel with a matching fluffy hair towel wrap hanging on a hook beside it. The black wire basket above the toilet held neatly stacked white rolls. They looked soft and plush.

Her toothbrush holder was matte black glass.

Sleek and elegant.

He leaned down and used his hands to cup some water, the used towel around his shoulders. Rinsed and spit, trying to be efficient. And not disgusting. He continued staring down at the sink bowl.

Unable to lift his head.

“You… You must be tired of me…” he mumbled, exhaling as evenly as he could, the mint flavor cooling his tongue and the inside of his mouth.

She answered slightly muffled.

But dead serious.

“You can stop pretending you are inconveniencing me and simply accept what I’m doing for you.”

Jungkook raised his head.

There was a brief heartbeat exchanged in the mirror. Seeing each other in reflection. Somehow it was more honest than being eye to eye. Well, of course, because he had been having trouble all morning making any real eye contact, but in that brief moment, in that second of time that felt like hours, in that gum bubble right before the jarring pop moment, she saw right through him. He let himself be seen, and it seemed as if she knew and accepted what his true feelings were, despite his fear of his wants being too ugly to admit. Knowing him better then he knew himself, just like how it always was.

Had been.

What?

She kept brushing her teeth absentmindedly, and then moved past him, picking up the other cup to rinse her own mouth and spit. He backed away, but not too far. Wiped his hands on the towel given to him. The unspoken intent lingered, do you still not understand what is happening here, and he did, but he was afraid to be wrong.

He was so very afraid.

And yet.

Her head was right there, soft hair and all.

His hand lifted.

She rose quickly and his hand retreated immediately. She was speaking and opening the mirror, revealing the hidden cabinet and an array of crammed skincare. All higher end brands, along with an onyx gua sha stone with its own stand, and a lip balm she plucked off the edge and applied.

“I have bread, eggs, cheese. Can make eggy toast topped with cheese and have kimchi on the side. Extra butter to make the bread crispier. You’ll like it.”

“I… wuh?”

You make the eggy toast and ate breakfast with Jungkook.

A big chunk of butter slapped into the hot pan. Then pan-toasting the bread on both sides until golden brown before pressing down the center of the bread slice with a ladle, creating a shallow bowl to drop an egg in. You had let the egg cook for a bit before sprinkling a little salt and white pepper, then added shredded cheese on top and covered the pan, giving it a few seconds to melt before removing the eggy bread from its warm home and onto a plate. Added some kimchi on the side for some prickled freshness and handed the meal to Jungkook, who had hovered around you the entire time, providing various oohs and aahs with your every action.

Your one-man hype squad.

It wasn’t the most Korean meal, but he had been drinking the night prior. A hangover meal of sorts.

You didn’t talk much.

You had already done enough. It was pretty obvious what was going on here. The real question was whether or not to let it happen. Still, you couldn’t let Jungkook cry himself to sleep in your arms the night before and not send him off with a full belly. Even if he never spoke to you again, it wouldn’t have sat right with you. It felt too heartless to straighten up and tell him to get out right after waking.

And, anyway.

You had missed him.

It made no sense. It wasn’t like you had deeply invested into those few months with him. You had been too caught up in your endless cycle of self-destruction to truly appreciate how much Jungkook liked you. It was obvious, of course. He followed you like a puppy and never wanted to leave your presence, but you had chalked it up to him being young and not knowing better. In fact, you had originally thought he was still chasing a fantasy up until last night, but no amount of your denial could explain away his words or those tears. He had grown up, at least enough to understand that reality and dreams weren’t one and the same. And yet he had clung onto those memories of you, even if he thought that the future he was heading towards was tasteless.

That took a certain kind of stubbornness.

Well, you must be stubborn to stay in love, no?

You paused mid-bite.

Jungkook was stuffing his face. You had made him two pieces. He had seemed very hungry. You spooned more kimchi onto his plate distractedly, your mind wandering. Devotion was stubbornness. Wavering was lack thereof. Stubbornness was often an act of selfishness and that was still true in love. It just depended on how one imposed that selfishness onto another.

You felt a tap on the back of your hand.

You started, blinking out of your thoughts.

He was staring.

“You didn’t finish eating,” Jungkook gulped, tilting his head. “Something wrong? I thought it was really tasty.”

This was coming from someone who would eat basically anything. Still, you took it as a compliment. Not because you needed to be complimented, no, because you saw his black-brown eyes sparkle when you half-smiled at his comment. Just for that. Just to give him the small happiness of knowing you valued his praise. You could be humble about the culinary skills you had acquired over the years simply so you didn’t look arrogant, but, then again, the result would be that Jungkook would feel as if his words weren’t worthwhile and that was not the truth.

Even if your mind wasn’t so sure, you still smiled for him.

No matter the result, you loved me back then, in the only way you know how. You taught me about your love, whether I believed in it or not. Very ox-like of you, Jeon Jungkook.

“Do you think we should go on a date?” you suddenly asked.

His big peepers popped open wide.

“A d-date?!”

“What should I wear?!”

“Nothing.”

Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung high-fived each other with a simultaneous maniacal giggle as Jungkook stood next to his open closet door with his eyebrow twitching. So much for having older friends giving their mature opinions.

“Very funny,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

“Isn’t that how you get ‘em, JK?” Taehyung teased, grinning with all his teeth. Typically, Kim Taehyung gave off a mature, elegant vibe. He was the kind of handsome that could elevate any look with his strong features and cool demeanor. The deep baritone voice only added to his manliness. “Just rip off your shirt and bam!”

With close friends, though, Taehyung was an idiot.

“What if he walked into the restaurant and tore open his shirt?” Park Jimin snorted behind his small hand, trying to be polite but failing miserably with the nonsense coming out of his mouth. “Do you think his date would notice first or do you think he would get arrested first?” The epitome of cute and airy, Jimin was the type that ended up being social because he looked so approachable with his soft features and endearing eye smile. He always drew in a crowd with his genuine emotion behind his carefully considered words.

Which meant that Jimin was also the type to rub in the teasing until he really, really grated those nerves.

Sigh.

“You’re not helping, guys,” Jungkook growled, thumbing through his very monochrome closet. Black, white, gray, classic blue denim. Not much color. Shit, was he really this boring? Honestly, he ended up selecting basics mostly for the reducing decision fatigue when picking out an outfit for every day. It did not, however, help when he needed to impress.

Especially because Jungkook rarely wore or owned any formal wear.

Was a dress shirt too much? Too little? Not a good indication of the kind of man he was now? He didn’t want to portray like a better or false version of himself. But he had to look good. Fuck. This was way easier when his only goal was to get laid and not to have a relationship.

“You still haven’t told us who it is,” Taehyung piped up, still sitting on the end of Jungkook’s bed with Jimin. One would think the fashion model of the two would get up and start pulling things, but he didn’t budge.

“Yeah, we need deets,” Jimin chimed in. “We can’t suggest anything without context.”

Jungkook responded flatly. “It’s a girl.”

He could practically hear the eye roll in Jimin’s response. “Wow, what an underwhelming gender reveal. Next time bring those poppers with pink confetti while you’re at it.”

“Uh, well, do you know her personally or is this blind date status?” Taehyung asked, sounding confused.

“I know her.”

Jungkook knew precisely why Taehyung was confused, but didn’t address it. Jimin, however.

“Why are you being so cagey? By now you would have shown us a pic.”

Yeah, by now, he would have shown a face photo or even the dating profile. To be honest, Jimin was the most useful on pinpointing perfect outfits that screamed “fuck me now” even with only a few pics or a limited text exchange. He was some kind of wizard at that. Personal experience? Who knew. Taehyung ended up being emotional support and occasionally the voice of reason.

“Ugh, is it that stuck-up bitch from a couple months ago?” Taehyung suddenly stood up, coming up behind Jungkook. “I don’t like her.”

“I told you I didn’t even sleep with that one,” Jungkook mumbled, moving away as Taehyung thumbed through his jackets, took out a fitted light denim one, and put it on himself, modeling in the full-length mirror for who-the-hell-knows-what reason. Too casual, right?

“Good, because nobody liked her,” Jimin tutted.

Yet she did look similar to a clean someone.

Not as pretty, though, Jungkook knew.

Sometimes he had to take what he could get. Not that time, because they were both right. That woman’s personality was awful. Had been best to run right away. Jungkook frowned as Jimin stuck his hand out right in front of his face, waving it around.

“Give me your phone.”

“No.”

“We need pics!”

Jungkook offered one detail. “She’s hot.”

“No shit?!” Jimin gasped sarcastically. He staggered back with a fluff of his bleach blond hair. “That’s so out of character for you!”

Jungkook glared and thought about biting him.

Did not.

For now.

“Ah!”

Jungkook froze. That was the type of exclamation Taehyung let out when he realized something important. The kind where Taehyung pointed upward and popped his fist into his open palm, about to say the very important thing and blow everyone’s minds.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

He could sense Taehyung was facing him now. Jungkook couldn’t raise his head to look. His abrupt muteness was enough of answer. He felt Taehyung’s strong hand on his shoulder, but he continued to stare at his clothes as if they could magically answer in his stead, chewing on the left side of his lower lip nervously.

“Am I right, Jungkookie?” Taehyung asked again softly. “I thought you said she disappeared.”

It’s impossible to fall in love when I have always been in love with you.

There was a pang in his chest, sharp and intense.

“Guess… Guess nobody disappears forever,” he finally muttered.

Jimin jerked back, stunned. “Woah, wait, wait.”

Taehyung knew more than Jimin. Not really for any other reason than gut feeling. Somehow, after he had finished moping and feeling sorry for himself, Jungkook had felt that Taehyung would understand the intensity of it all. Taehyung had a grounded personality, but there was certain je ne sais quoi about the dark-haired man. Call it a hunch from the partial truths of described rendezvous in Paris and his occasionally off-the-cuff viewpoint on things. Taehyung had always been inseparable from Jimin ever since they met, so Jungkook had to tell the other male too, but back then Jimin was kind of a…

Well.

A slut.

Safe and consensual, but dude had been going through his hoe phase. He hadn’t been in a place to understand how profound those memories had been for Jungkook. Therefore, Jungkook had just said he really loved her despite the short timeline. Jimin had told him he was an idiot to believe that. Taehyung had whacked Jimin in the back of the head for that. He did apologize right away, but it wasn’t until years later that Jimin really comprehended the depth and apologized. By then, though.

It was all too late.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jimin worriedly chittered. “She broke your heart last time. Bad.”

Jungkook looked up.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Taehyung persisted. “Come on, don’t act like we haven’t noticed you have a type. You think Jimin and I are cross-eyed and blind? Not to mention you usually drop girls like hot potatoes with your weak-ass excuses.”

“Yeah, for instance, you randomly stopped seeing one girl because she liked sweets,” Jimin pointed out.

“She likes sweets,” Jungkook interrupted. “But only sour candy. She would always give me any chocolate she received.”

Taehyung rubbed his forehead, his tan skin glowing under the overhead lights. “Dude.”

“This is not good for you.” Jimin sighed, expression apprehensive. He resembled the skeptical emoticon with his rounder and more animated face. “Setting aside if she has become a better person or not… why now? And could she really be as great as you think she is or are you trying to make her live up to an impossible fantasy?”

“It just happened,” Jungkook snapped. “We ran into each other the other night.”

Jimin frowned. “A little fast, isn’t it?” He was slipping into his Busan satoori with his frustration. It often came out around at the same time Jungkook’s did since they were born in the same area.

“Did you at least talk to her for a long time?” Taehyung playing devil’s advocate in this case. He loved a swift romance, as unlikely as it could be. Red string of fate, soulmates, the works. “What was it like?”

Jungkook would never call himself a poet.

He simply answered exactly how he felt.

“It was like I was able to finally come home after a long journey,” he breathed out.

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look. But Jungkook didn’t care anymore, lost in her smile, her touch, her smell, lost in that night. It didn’t make any sense, of course, because she was vibrant as she was calm, but that was how it was. Coming home. Like bursts of color back into his desaturated world. From the mundane to the extraordinary, even from something as basic as standing beside each other and brushing their teeth.

He had just liked knowing it was her.

“Did you guys sleep together?”

Jungkook gave Taehyung a side-eye. He got a shrug in response.

“No. We… went home.”

What?

Was he supposed to say, no, I ended up at her place and I cried myself to sleep in her arms? Hell no. Some things were meant to be secrets. Even Jungkook had good enough sense to leave well enough alone. Couple white lies here and there weren’t going to condemn him. Sex before marriage might, but, eh, in that case he had been damnned for long before now. Whoops.

“Uh huh,” Jimin mused. “Alright then. Let’s pick an outfit.”

“What about this?”

“Taehyung, you would wear that,” Jimin scolded, pulling out an olive-green bomber jacket.

“Aren’t sweater vests are outdated? I saw that on TikTok.”

“They’re not outdated!” Taehyung scolded Jungkook, putting back the black sweater vest with white trim. “Also, real life is not TikTok, dork. I was thinking without an inner shirt, anyway. Show off the arms.”

Jimin hummed, considering. “Something lighter. Do you have something similar in cream? Or beige? Plus some medium wash blue jeans and a studded belt. She was kinda edgy, I remember.”

“Uh, lemme look…”

“Beanie?”

“Yo, the hat hair?” The Busan dialect was coming out again due to Jimin’s agitation.

“He looks cute in them!”

“We’re not serving egg even if he is over easy.”

It took a moment for Jungkook to register the scalding degree of that burn.

“Hey!”

“What should I wear?”

“Clothes?”

You turned around to see Kang Hyungu with his raised hands and a clueless expression. “Normal people wear clothes to a date,” he reasonably stated.

You answered dryly.

“Very funny.”

You were not amused. The cerulean-haired guitarist struggled and turned away from the video call, rummaging around in his kitchen and making a lot of noise. From this angle you could peek the bottom of his dark purple undercut and his cutesy Pingu t-shirt. Hyungu was a very manly looking guy, but he never hesitated to wear graphics that he found adorable. Too secure not to.

“You didn’t order take-out again, did you?”

He made a noise that was neither affirmative or negative, which meant he definitely did. “I’m not in the mood to cook.” The word cook was being used generously here.

“Which means you made melodies all day, huh?” you interjected.

Hyungu stuck his big eyes and handsome (yet generally expressionless) face back onto the screen. “It’s such a burden to be so talented and hardworking, but someone has to do it.”

You ignored his plight. “Should I wear a dress?” you asked, pawing through your hanging articles of clothing.

“Duh.”

You frowned and looked over the dresses one by one. None of them felt right though. The date was a meal and then who knows. There was a variety of shops around the area, so it might be fun to look around and talk, perhaps. Tight dresses out, probably. You weren’t about to freeze your ass off for the vibes.

“Maybe I should wear pants?” you wondered out loud.

“Nah, noona. You look way better in dresses.”

Despite not having much expression around strangers, Hyungu had strong opinions when asked. In fact, he was so quiet that he often faded into the background before chiming in at the most random of times. He was one year younger than Jungkook. Upon first glance, he looked older, but anyone who knew Hyungu personally was subject to his seriously unserious nature.

“Who’s the guy?”

“Somebody I used to know,” you replied absentmindedly, pulling out a high-waisted black skirt with silver hardware and pleather suspenders. Hm.

You heard the frown in his voice. “Someone I know?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like anybody I go on dates with,” you shot back, pulling out a white ruffled shirt and a black velvet one. The skirt was designed to sit right under the bust so some type of undershirt was a must. The white seemed too contrasting. You could unbutton a few buttons of the black velvet dress shirt, or maybe go for a fitted red-and-black striped top to make it more casual. Maybe more casual was the move. The sushi restaurant wasn’t upscale. But, also, you didn’t care about being overdressed. A loose t-shirt might be a cool vibe too. Choices.

“They like you for the wrong reasons,” Hyungu scolded, ramming noodles into his mouth.

“Who cares?”

Nah, black velvet shirt it was. More comfortable and the mixing of textures made for a good monotone outfit. Plain black knit thigh-high socks were a no-brainer too. Plus, then you could wear black boots which was better for the colder weather.

“I do! They’re lame and disrespectful.”

You hunted for your sterling silver guitar pick necklace. “I keep telling you that I’m not looking for a relationship with them.”

“Well, you should look for a relationship with someone.”

You upturned your lips and raised an eyebrow at the screen of your phone propped up against your perfumes. Hyungu’s face still hadn’t changed much from his baseline neutral, other than one cheek bouncing up and down with each chew. At least he had the decency to keep his mouth shut. “This again?”

“You deserve to be happy, noona.”

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You paused.

Then you rolled your eyes. “Some guy isn’t gonna make me happy.”

“The guy will make you happy.” And then Hyungu shoveled some rice in his mouth. He was a man of equality. All carbs were his friends.

You let out a silent, heavy exhale. “You’re so sure about that.”

“Yeah, I am,” he continued with a munch. “Even if you’re delusional about it.”

You puffed one cheek. “I’m not delusional about anything. I’m very rational.”

“I might have been drunk but I wasn’t blind, noona.”

You froze.

“I’ve never seen you act that way around a guy, ever.”

You tapped your fingertips against your dresser drawer, out of his field of view. The long seconds ticked by. Fuck it. “What do you think of him?” you questioned.

Hyungu made a scrunched face as he fought with the lid of a container that seemed to contain cucumber salad. His mother must have made it for him. “What was his name again?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh. Yeah, he was with the group that was friends of the band, right?”

“Yeah.”

He paused, twisting his lips to one side. “Mmm, can’t really remember that well. It was kind of noisy and you know how it is for me when there’s a bigger group and I’m not super close with anyone there.”

Your shoulders slumped. “I thought you said you were fine.”

He waved a hand, debating for a moment before simply eating out of the container. “Gotta keep trying to get used to it. Anyway, I was more focused on getting along with the band since we have five more shows. But he did help us in getting home. He must not be a bad guy.” He looked up at you. In some ways, Hyungu was the most honest when he was playing guitar. People not close to him found him hard to read.

He was no mystery to you, though.

“Can’t you tell that he really likes you?”

You broke his gaze, almost guiltily.

“No one is supposed to like me. I’m scary on purpose.”

Hyungu laughed.

“You’re never been scary, noona.”

In the silence that followed, you and Hyungu had a silent conversation in words unsaid. You didn’t look towards the screen, preferring instead to turn around and look through your jackets, pretending to search for something. You had been told before that you were unapproachable. That was by choice. You didn’t need nosy loons talking about shit that they didn’t know about. Thankfully, Hyungu had never done that. He simply told you what was what. Again, he was highly observant and, apparently, he had paid attention to Jungkook’s obvious signals.

“I don’t know the history between you two, but you would be crazy not to go for someone who looks at you like that, noona.”

You turned around halfway, cocking your head. “Have you ever known me not to be crazy?”

He shot you one of those looks of his. The fed-up-with-your-shit look. “Then you would be stupid. And I know you’re not stupid,” he warned, as if it was a threat. “Wear your long black fur coat. My mom is calling. Have fun.”

And then you saw him reach over and end the video call.

You stared at the phone screen as it faded to black.

Then you scoffed, shaking your head.

“No need to be so weird about it, sheesh…”

“Uh, before I forget, I meant to tell you that you look really nice today, noona.”

She stepped out of the restaurant and gave him an amused smile. “After the meal?”

“S-Sorry!”

Jungkook knew Jimin and Taehyung would call him an idiot. Taehyung had told him repeatedly to remember to compliment her and stuff like that, but they had gotten so caught up with catching up on each other’s lives after their parting that Jungkook had forgotten. He had told her about his video editing job at a music company and how he was working more towards production and directing. She had told him about how she worked to live, but her day-to-day job turned out to be a book editor with occasional other side projects. Somehow, strangely similar types of careers. Jungkook had told her about his friends and their antics. How he realized he was losing opportunities to make memories by staying in so he was trying to go out more to treasure those people. She had told him about how she never grew out of her gaming habit and how, with money, it had gotten worse. And how the rest of her free time and cash was spent on going to festivals and events to support Hyungu and his band, but it turned out she really loved discovering indie music as much as the next pop hit.

It was as if they were…

Friends.

It had been so easy, so simple despite his initial awkwardness. He had thought, for a moment, that she regretted asking him, but as soon as they sat down, she gently prodded him with conversation. The restaurant atmosphere left them alone together out in public. It was surprising because he remembered, back then at the PC bang, she had been prickly and reluctant to engage in human interaction. Now, she was confident and involved in their conversation. He saw flashes of her old, closed-off self when she paused before telling him something about herself.

But then she seemed to brush it aside and spoke calmly.

Is it because of me?

He didn’t know. It was clear, however, that things had changed.

She had become more whole and, in turn, more beautiful.

“Thanks, though,” she said with a laugh, buttoning her long black fur coat. Jungkook was a bit said about that because the all-black skirt and velvet shirt combo with the guitar pick silver necklace was so cool. Still, it was a frigid night, so he understood.

“I really did mean to tell you right away,” he insisted. They had chosen to walk around a bit to walk off the Japanese food they had just enjoyed. He was jam-packed with sushi.

“Your stunned face tipped me off enough. And the literal five seconds of silence and constant staring when I sat down.”

He felt his cheeks heat. “O… Oh.”

“I like how you look today too.”

She smiled at him.

Jungkook nearly stumbled. “T-Thanks! Although… I actually had a little help,” he admitted, sticking his hands in the pockets of his olive-green bomber jacket again. He had almost tripped only because his black combat boots had a platform. That was all. Yeah. Not because he dearly loved her smiling at him or anything.

“Well, they have a good eye, so I appreciate them.”

He tried not to roll his eyes. “They would love to hear that.” But he wasn’t going to tell them. Nope.

“Hey.”

He stopped as she paused on the sidewalk. Turned around and she was looking down the street before back at him. A moment of hesitation.

Then.

She held out her hand.

Jungkook stared at it with wide eyes, his jaw dropping.

Her expression was between sheepish and amused, the corner of her lips ticking upwards. “This is a date, right? Let’s try it. Holding hands.”

He didn’t know how to feel. It wasn’t as if he was foreign to public displays of affection, but back then he had always been the one to initiate. It had seemed that she tolerated it and he had continued to do it, blind to the inequality of affection. She had only initiated sexual activity, about as often as he did. But something like this? It was only now that he realized how much he had wished she had, even if only in private.

To others, it would seem odd that such a small action of affection would hold much significance.

He reached out.

Fingertips hovering over her palm.

He raised his head and Jungkook looked right at her, blinking hard, wondering if he was dreaming.

“Is it… Is it really okay?”

Her small smile shone in her eyes.

“Unless you have sweaty hands?” she lightly joked.

He felt his cheeks flush hotly. The innocent comment suddenly reminded him. “Oh, uh… k-kinda, actually… w-well, they might g-get clammy ‘cause they get that way when I’m nervous, um…”

She let out a chuckle and dropped her hand.

“Okay.”

Before he could blurt out a hasty, w-wait, she stepped forward and hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow, resting her fingers on his right forearm, so close now that he could smell her warm, comforting perfume.

“How about this?”

She tugged him forward with their linked arms. He looked down at her, startled, but now there was mischievous glint in those mysterious orbs shadowed by lashes. His skin prickled from the closeness, even underneath all the layers. Legs moving forward even if his brain hadn’t caught up.

“You thought I didn’t remember that you like skinship?”

“I… I thought…” He swallowed, trying to clear his throat and the fluttering of butterflies that had shot up from his stomach and into his throat. “I thought you hated it.”

She shrugged. “Normally I do. But I want you to be my exception.”

It was a good thing walking was a muscle memory action because Jungkook was pretty sure he was in a different daydream dimension at her response. Er, nightdream? Whatever. He couldn’t fuck this up. Well, the crying on the couch was always a point against him, probably. He winced at the cringey memory.

“Noona, um.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry about the other night to your place.”

“You mean when you sobbed and became a puddle on my sofa.”

Ouch. “Y-Yeah…”

“I can’t say I expected it. It’s all good though. I’ve fallen asleep on that couch countless times.”

It’s impossible to fall in love when I have always been in love with you. At the time, he had been too emotional to gauge her response to everything he said. Maybe this was all a pity ploy to his extreme reaction. He didn’t want to believe that, but his mind was restless at the thought.

He needed to know.

“I meant it though. Everything I said.”

“I never took you for a liar,” she answered, holding onto him as they walked in step, their bodies lit up by the various colored lights each shop used to entice customers to enter.

He had to inhale deeply before asking. “I should have asked you how you felt though, before running my mouth like that.”

There was sound all around them. Noisy cars. Music from inside the stores and blasting dully from vehicles. Chatter from people all around them, on phones or huddled together. The echoes of steps blending together into an endless nighttime march. The occasional laugh or dinging of a bell when someone left a store. People who passed them glanced quickly before looking away.

It was conceited, but Jungkook enjoyed seeing their flashes of envy, even if all strangers could see was their outward appearance.

None of them knew the whirlwind between these bodies.

“I am the kind of person that always believed the past is in the past,” she finally said, holding onto him tighter. He tried not to stiffen when he realized the back of his upper arm was right by the side of her clothed breasts. “It took me a while to accept that I can’t do anything about the past or how it affected me. Likewise, I don’t really believe in reconnecting with people. Drifting apart is natural. Not negative or positive, per se. Just happens. I always believed it happens for a reason.”

Oh.

He bit the left side of his lower lip. She continued.

“You asked me back then, aren’t you afraid that I’ll forget you? I answered a bit cheekily, I remember, but your question stuck with me. Nobody has ever asked me that, you know? In fact, I am used to being forgotten.”

There was something about her voice.

The quality of it had gotten mistier. Introspective. And hurt. It was not directed at him, but it was there despite an obvious attempt on hiding it. He felt her grasp onto him tighter, although maybe it was less about the physical aspect and rather to the things he had said.

“I had become so used to it, in fact, that I thought your question was ridiculous. Forget me? Of course, you will. It would be better if you do. We all need to move on from our past and not cling to a memory holding us back.” She let out a mirthless laugh, but softened, leaning her head against his shoulder. If the current topic wasn’t so serious, Jungkook would have been over the moon. His heart beat fast regardless. “But you didn’t forget me. Even after all this time. I thought it was just because you wanted your dick blown.”

To be fair, that was a reason on the list.

Lower priority, but there.

Jungkook, once again, shut his mouth and left well enough alone.

She let out a breath.

It quivered in the cold, crisp night air and disappeared.

“I use reason and logic in my everyday life to interact with others. To maintain relationships. But love? Love is something that has no reason. I don’t know how I feel towards the idea. I would not say the emotion is afraid, but it is not a positive one either. The idea of love constantly reminds me that it is something I lack. That something so basic was supposed to be mine, but I was denied it throughout my childhood without knowing it.”

She stopped.

Jungkook turned and saw she was gazing up at the moon. There were no stars visible from the city, but everyone knew they were up there.

“Did you notice I don’t talk about my parents?” she asked softly.

He did. “Yeah.”

Her tone seemed apologetic. “Is it selfish to expect some kind of affection from those who birthed you? Or even only a simple co-habitation relationship? Anything other than nothing?”

Well, shit. “I don’t think so.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I almost wished they had given me away. Or hated me. Something. Anything.”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say.

Firstly, because he was not good at comforting anyone. Not even himself. He was simply sulky until he kinda got over it. Granted, much of it was first-world problems. He could always go running to his parents for advice or solutions if he couldn’t think of any. Or his friends. But deeply personal stuff he kept to himself. It felt almost a burden to say something, so on some level he could understand the importance of what she was saying. Why it was significant that she felt the need to tell him. He could feel it and he was grateful she was willing to express it to him.

“I don’t want you to experience a fraction of what I did. I don’t even know how deeply those moments are embedded in me,” she sighed, loosening her grip on him. “I see those moments reflected in my instincts. The scars of my past stick to the soles of my shoes no matter where I step. I don’t know how much of it is my true feelings or something that is simply fundamentally wrong with me.”

He remembered something.

“But you said you want to learn love,” he said quietly.

They stayed beside each other, warmth whirling with warmth even when surrounded by cold, crisp air.

“I did say that, yeah.”

Then all those littler things. The things she said and the way she said them. The offer.

“I don’t really understand love either,” Jungkook admitted.

She chuckled. “Yeah, I got that from your chaotic reentry back into my life.”

Their arms were still entangled. Although she was the one holding onto him, Jungkook was the one who brought his arm closer to his body, pinning her forearm to him. She accepted it, not moving away. His body sung at the contact but his thoughts trembled.

He whispered to the moon and the darkness above them.

“I’m scared that one day you won’t want me to be in your life anymore. Again.”

He couldn’t look at her. He was not about to bawl in public, for fuck’s sake.

“Don’t let this end.”

I have always been in love with you.

No person could fill that void. He tried, countless times. Jungkook knew it was impossible, stupid, pathetic, crazy, all the conclusions. But it was not crazy to know that he would never be the same. Even so, he could have lived a satisfactory life. A fun one, even. It was not fair to chase those that didn’t want to be found, so he hadn’t. If it was all for the best, then it was for the best.

But she came back to him.

His peppermint gum love.

“I’ll be stuck to you, you know.”

He turned his head and found her looking back at him. His pit-a-pat heartbeat, following the pop of each bubble, sharp and exciting, and he savored it. The seconds, the moments, the memories, all swirling into one. Everything. Everything, bright and intense and reminding him how it was like to live life.

Jungkook grinned.

“Okay.”

She smiled and raised herself.

And kissed him.

It was as if his fractured, desaturated world fell into place all at once and color burst forth.

Her soft scent pressed up against him, persistent, clinging, and he drowned in it, leaning into her lips, the softness and honesty together. Her fingers wrapped around his forearm to steady herself, their bodies now closer together, one of her legs between his. She had stepped forward to turn and make the distance. He held her, his left arm around her waist, and he wondered how it got there. A reflexive reaction, apparently.

She broke apart, her lingering exhale warming his lips.

He frowned slightly, opening his eyes.

“Heh. That’s it for now. We shouldn’t be so forward in public, after all,” she pointed out with a smirk.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Put on his best, most convincing pout. “Who cares?”

She was laughing, shaking her head at him. “I do. You want to start this off with an arrest for public indecency? That’s a bang for sure.” She pulled on his arm, indicating them towards the sidewalk again.

“Hmph, fine, but one more kiss.”

And he yanked her back, pressing his lips to hers again, and if this was impossible, stupid, pathetic, crazy, if he really was a fool, then he was one forever, smiling into her smile, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks, his arms around her waist, the unfaded memories and the engraved present finally meeting.

This is love.

He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t have to understand for his body to know it was real.

She leaned forward, past his nose and to his ear.

“You like kisses, huh?”

It was then that Jungkook realized his body did, in fact, know something.

“Um… This has never happened before,” he mumbled, his cheeks burning.

She held tightly onto the collar of his jacket, her hair against his chin. Half of it was pulled back with a black claw clip. It gave an elegant yet casual look while also keeping him from hiding his blushing face from bystanders.

Just his luck.

“Maybe you didn’t remember, but you also would get instantly hard whenever I kissed you back then too,” she teased, her warm breath grazing his ear. She was making it worse. Shit. Jungkook tried to bite the inside of his cheek. Her thigh was pressed between his legs so there wasn’t much hiding of anything.

“Noona, please shut up.”

“Although maybe not with such innocent kisses.”

“Noona, please…”

You danced your fingers up his chest.

Each point of contact going from fingertip to fingernail. Bated breath. Strangeness and familiarity all at once, sitting on your bed with only the orb-shaped lamp on, cool blue artificial moonlight looking down upon the magic unfolding in this room. His hand raised and closed in around yours.

You looked up as warmth encircled your touch.

Jungkook smiled nervously.

“Does it feel weird?” you asked him.

“A… A little bit,” he whispered. There was no reason to. Pointless, really, because you could hear the neighbor downstairs having some sort of wild party. Your apartment was silent. “Mostly because I used to think about it a lot.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You think you’ll stop thinking about sex after I give it to you? Maybe I shouldn’t, then.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

He puffed his cheeks in exasperation. He grabbed your hand tighter, whining your name without the honorific, and you were suddenly transported to the past. Breathless nights, falling into a melody of bodies, and you pressed your knuckles against his chest, making Jungkook yelp and nearly fall over, catching himself with his hands before freezing up as you hovered over him, crossing your arm over his front and planting your palm on the bed under his armpit. He was raised to his elbows, looking up at you with those wide, dark brown eyes. Pink lips parted, the two silver rings gleaming at the right edge of his lower lip and that familiar mole underneath punctuating every surprise and every smile.

What was that phrase?

Live fast.

It had always been like that, though.

Die young.

Would you ever really age if you were always in the perpetual state of learning to love Jeon Jungkook?

You lowered your head and kissed him.

You were well aware that this was probably too much all at once and yet there was also so much time lost from the journey apart. Maybe necessary. But bad decisions could have good consequences. A kiss for the mole under his lips first, for old time’s sake. Then his waiting mouth. You tilted your head and kissed him deeper this time, shivering at his familiar clean scent. Your other hand rose and ghosted his jaw, sliding your tongue into his mouth as he moaned. Fingers sliding into his soft hair, slowly thrusting your tongue in and out before he caught it with his teeth and gently sucked on it, running one hand over your waist, pressing his fingers into your side.

You backed off a little and flicked your tongue along his lower lip, exhaling into his mouth.

“Remember you used to be a freak?”

His jacket was hanging on your desk chair but he was still in his beige knit vest top.

His brows furrowed.

“I’m not a freak,” he insisted.

You curled your grip into his scalp and tugged. His head tipped back and his eyes slipped closed, shuddering, a mute whine in his throat, his own hold on your waist tightening, blocked by layers of your skirt and tucked-in shirt. You pulled harder and his lashes fluttered, his chin lifting and exposing his throat to your lips. Light kisses, barely there. You were pretty sure the words coming out of his mouth were a lie because his body was telling you the complete opposite.

He hadn’t changed that much in that respect.

Heh.

You ran the tip of your tongue from between his collarbones, up his trembling neck, stopping at his chin to push his head back down and claim his gasping mouth with a fierce kiss.

There was no hesitation now.

You had been worried that somehow maybe your bodies wouldn’t click. Maybe you wouldn’t feel the same level of exhilaration or enjoyment. And it wasn’t the same. Not at all. No, as you leaned in more, trying to force him to yield, and he refused, pulling your hand down from his hair and sliding it under the hem of his top, making you touch him instead, trapping you in the lip-lock, no, this was refined hunger meeting a refined flavor, and you dug your nails into his flexed abs, causing him to break the kiss and throw his head back, moaning to your ceiling.

You lifted your chin as he pushed your hand up higher.

Looked down at him as you sunk your nails into his flesh and dragged down, watching his expression flicker between pain and pleasure, his eyes turning glassy with lust, looking right back at you. Unashamed.

He tugged your hand back up again, between his tense pecs.

Your breathing shallowed.

You scratched him again, so hard that it left irritated pink lines onto his skin.

Jungkook whimpered, his black hair messy and fallen over his forehead.

I wanted everything about you.

You pulled back and seized the bottom of his top, dragging it up and over his head with his help, falling into his arms as he sat up, smacking your palms into his broad back. Taking that part of him too, irritated red lines all over, and kisses over his jaw, his naked chest against your clothed chest, his own hands clutching fistfuls of your velvet shirt, chasing after your lips.

I still do.

Your skirt had a silver zipper straight down the front center. You felt him grip the pull and check if it was working one. Smiled as he gasped, realizing it was. It even detached at the hem so all you had to do was shrug out of the suspenders. It fell to the floor with the heavy clink of metal from the clasps.

You swung a leg over him and straddled his lap.

Him shirtless, his torso covered in your violent marks.

Your hips colliding into the front of his jeans.

He groaned in your face.

“F-Fuuuuck…”

You gripped his studded belt with one hand and grinded against him. The first few buttons of your shirt were open and the slick backside of the velvet fabric caused the collar to slide off one of your shoulders, exposing your collarbone. His hands cupped your ass, sinking into the curve, and you ducked down to kiss him again, again, grabbing onto his bare shoulder for support.

His breathing hitched as your hand came close to his neck.

The impulse.

Hot and hard.

You positioned your hand around his neck and squeezed the arteries, choking him.

The sensation of power, the taste of his whine, his larger frame trembling under you, and Jungkook pressed your clothed heat into his trapped erection and succumbed to the ravenous nature of your kiss. It was the same and it was different. Layers of passion on passion. Intense and sending shivers from you to him. Back then, he was driven by inexperience. There was arousal in his fumbling and frustration, but none now when he reached for the buttons, flicking then apart with ease even as you choked him and gripped his belt. Your body faintly exposed under the folds of the lush fabric, but you didn’t drop it, instead catching his lower lip with your teeth and sucking on it tightly.

Letting him go with a pop.

His eyes rolled back, that underlip mole quivering in anticipation.

Pause.

You pulled him towards you by his neck as his vision reoriented. Hazy and lust-drunk, but unequivocally trained on you, his grip digging into your thighs. Seconds filled with rattling breaths, pushing him to the edge, and the impulse rose again. Something you used to tell him. You hadn’t really meant it back then. It was a display of fantasy then. For show. For the mood.

But things were different now.

“You will always be mine,” you growled millimeters from Jungkook’s thin breath.

His half-lidded eyes shimmered. He couldn’t respond, too lost in the headiness of lost air. But his body knew. The body has its own language and his agreed.

The corners of his open mouth lifted.

You let go of his neck and grasped handfuls of his hair, yanking his head back, his wanton moan pitching and falling, almost going limp in your hold as oxygen flooded back into his brain. You licked up his hot throat, closing your eyes, savoring the vibration of his cries and the desperate way he pinned your lower body to his, begging for release but too incoherent from the burst of overwhelming sensations to make them audible.

“And I will try to be everything you need until I run out of time,” you murmured to his raging pulse under your lips.

Maybe you would always struggle to define the word love.

Maybe you would never know.

But you didn’t need to know to listen to what your body wanted.

I don’t need to know love to be sure of loving you.

Your velvet shirt fell to the floor. You slid down between his legs. Worked together to undo his belt, glancing up at him and seeing your red marks on his chest. The rise and fall of his pants. Higher. Seeing him watching you as you pushed down his jeans. Closing in. Tracing the edge of your teeth with your tongue as you palmed him over his boxer briefs, cocking an eyebrow at his soft cry that he turned into a hiss under your direct attention.

“Embarrassed?” you taunted.

Jungkook bit the side of his lip. “No.”

You hooked your pinky finger over the waistband of those Calvin Klein’s.

“You sure?”

Desperation crawling into his gaze as your thumb rubbed against the hard shaft. Several seconds of stroking and you stretched out the waistband, rubbing a slow circle, molding the fabric to the swollen head of his cock, smiling as his cut v-line underneath was revealed.

“P-Please…” he gasped above you.

Took your time to make eye contact again. You cocked your head to his crotch.

“Go on. Take it off then.”

His erection popped out. Dark red, rock-hard, begging for your mouth.

Unfortunately, Jungkook knew how you operated.

Flashes of the past and present. Heavy nights. Early mornings. Cold rooms with warm bodies. Your hands on his knees, spreading them apart and leaning in. Lips working the inside of his thighs. Kisses. Bites. Sucking. Rushing as much as moving slowly, breathing hotly onto his cock and watching it twitch at the heat. A flicker of your gaze and the needy anticipation written all over his face. The same wide-eyed stare from back then and, now, accented by piercings and tattoos running up his right arms, his muscles tense and rippling from trying to stay still under your unspoken control.

Your lips closed in around his girth and you shoved him down to the depths of your throat.

“A-Ah, fuuuuuuuck…”

It was a familiar stretch of your muscles. He was at his hardest, giving you the freedom to glide up and down with little resistance, positioning your head at the correct angle to receive him as deep as possible. You pressed your lips inward as you rose to the tip, curving your tongue around. Up and over. Coating him with saliva and stimulating that thin skin, increasing the sensitivity with the attracting nature of water to water made more powerful by the rubbing of your tongue, sinking your nails into the insides of his thighs. Piling on sensation after sensation. Crisp with pain. Intense from pleasure. Tighter, licking all over, sliding him against the ridges of the roof of your mouth.

Jungkook panted your name, the syllables slipping into moans, losing himself to the wet bliss.

You almost didn’t catch the fleeting words his gasp.

“Yeah… it’s… s-supposed to feel l-like this…”

His hips tensed under you but you kept him down with the base of your palms, leaving him at the mercy of your pace. The familiar tingling at the back of your head, keeping the angle perfect and the depth steady, and he was right, yes, this was how it was supposed to feel – the blinding rush of adrenaline, desire, and connection all swirling into one indiscernible emotion. The kind of heat that was beyond raw passion, closer, the kind of satisfaction that was pleasure on many different levels, so close, the kind of sex that people could only dream about.

There.

A torn moan and Jungkook’s hips bucked into your face, sliding down your throat and spilling his thick, salty orgasm into the tight pocket. You locked your shoulders and stopped moving, feeling his cock shudder and throb. His cum oozing upward, and you swallowed, chest tight. He cried out above you but you held him down and swallowed again, inhaling much needed air, his strong taste coating your tongue, tactile and delicious.

Truly.

Delicious.

You had almost forgotten how attracted you had been to his pheromones, but clearly your drenched panties hadn’t. You could even smell yourself from here. Also, your knees were killing you. Guess those years had an affect on your body after all, even if your brain had been subconsciously stuck on Jeon Jungkook.

The body always remembers.

To think you had said that just to be a smartass but Jungkook had unintentionally taken it seriously and it had turned out to be true all along.

A happy little accident.

You crawled up his body and he greeted you with kiss after fervent kiss. Somehow, he didn’t seem to mind that you had only just swallowed his cum. Then again, Jungkook would never beat the freak allegations. You were the only one making those allegations but, hey, you did know him best, even if neither you nor him knew that.

He unhooked your bra.

You slipped out of it, letting the black lace cups flop into the pile of his jeans, belt, and underwear on the floor. You were straddling his lap, knees on the bed, and he pulled you in deeper, giving you a moment to adjust. Stared into your eyes fiercely, the captured universes in those dark brown orbs glimmering with determination.

“Don’t look away,” he ordered. Not very sternly, but you smiled all the same, your arm around his shoulders, bare breasts and hard nipples right under his chin. Jungkook couldn’t intimidate you for shit. It was the big peepers, probably.

“Sure.”

He narrowed his eyes.

A stare down. Seconds saturated with anticipation. He raised his right hand, the two center fingers grouped together and the rest splayed out. Your smirk widened. Closer to you. Before he could say the words, open your mouth, your lips parted and you leaned in, swirling your tongue around his fingers, shifting your line of sight to admire the tattoos down his arm.

Jungkook sucked in a breath, stifling his awed moan.

Your eyes flickered back up to his face and you sucked on his fingers, directly looking at him. Even tilting your head and curving his fingertips down your throat, manipulating his movement with your tongue and your inner muscles. He shuddered, speechless at the arousing nature of this obscenity. You held yourself steady by splaying your fingers over his shoulder blades, letting him slowly thrust in and out of your mouth, the glossiness of your spit catching the low light.

“F-Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “You’re so sexy.”

You let your self-satisfied agreement show in the lowering of your lashes.

He grinned, noticing it right away, his expression pleased and frustrated all at once. Enjoyed the show for a few more moments and then pulled out. You held on until the very last second, releasing him with a wet, lewd pop. Loud in the silence of labored breathing and intense eye contact. His other hand at your waist nudged your ass. You lifted yourself up. His right hand slid between your legs, his two wet fingers grazing the edge of your dampened panties.

“You smell so damn good,” he murmured, looking down to bear witness. “I want it smeared all over me.”

“I told you you’re a freak.”

“Yeah, I am.”

You would have rolled your eyes at his now confession if it wasn’t for him hooking the edge of your panties and bunching them to the side while at the same time closing the distance between your chest and mouth, and suddenly you were clutching his head with both hands, gasping, tangling your fingers in his hair as he sucked on your nipple and sunk his two fingers into your wet pussy.

Jungkook wouldn’t give it to you if he thought you couldn’t take it.

Your back arched reflexively, thrusting your chest into his face, and your hips rolled, thrusting his two wetted fingers into you. He got the hint, following your body rhythm, deep and rough, making the visceral pleasure spiral in your tightened core. Of course, you had sex after Jungkook. Shitty sex, subpar sex, better than average sex, mind-numbing sex. But it had always come at the price of your own expertise. It was never about how well they matched you, because they never did. They never had the time to. But not Jungkook.

His body remembered.

Your breathing deepened and he increased the pace, the fervor, switching sides of your chest and catching your hard nipple between his teeth. Pressing his tongue tip into it, rubbing forcefully and then sucking. Lips and then tongue, back and forth, thrusting up into you, and you gave in, locking your hips to take the wanted abuse, letting the rising orgasm take command. Blood roaring in your veins, heartbeat at your throat, hard, fast, intense, your tense thighs trembling, tipping your head back.

Closing your eyes.

Moaning his name.

You pulled on his hair, hard.

Jungkook whined under you but he didn’t let go. Mouth too busy to speak. The declaration tumbled out of your open mouth.

“Close… fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

The constricted strain in your chest burst, and you threw you head back and sighed, low and wanton, prickling nerves racing up and across your back. Your inner walls pulsating. The heavy, sweet scent of your climax hit you first, soaking Jungkook’s hand, sticking to the insides of your thighs, and then uncontrollable shivers overtook your hips, gasping as his mouth left your chest, the abrupt loss of heat leaving your nipple cold. He moaned with you, his fingers buried into your spasming pussy, enjoying every second of feeling your orgasm, his thumb closing in to press down on your throbbing, slick clit.

You sucked in a sharp inhale.

He held it there, only adding pressure to the hyper sensitive nerves, letting your ride out your orgasm with your hands still gripping his head. You could feel the afterglow flutter in your lungs. Slow and deep shaking breaths.

Damn.

“You’re still the best at fingering me,” you gasped.

You lowered your head and he chuckled faintly. Mischief sparkling in his dark brown eyes under messy black strands. “Good.” Sounded and looked very proud of himself.

Fuck, you waned to kiss him so bad.

So you did.

Again and again.

With Jungkook, it was easy. With Jungkook, there was never a question. You had just questioned it because you had thought it was the right thing to do. He had questioned it because he had been afraid. You hadn’t understood it and neither had he. Nobody did. But that didn’t matter, because as naturally as the wind blew, so did you and Jungkook tumble to the bed, him licking off your juices on his fingers and groaning, savoring your flavor. Hands all over each other, recalling all his erogenous zones and listening to his sounds again, your heartbeat racing at the pitch in his deep tone, the desperation in the call of your name.

You felt him cup your pussy and smear your juices all over his palm.

Glanced down and saw him grip his half-hard cock with his now-wet hand, moaning into your ear, heating your skin with his need.

You tilted your head more.

His lips found the pocket right under your earlobe.

You sat down on his raised thigh and rubbed yourself against his flexed muscle as he jacked himself off, sparks flying throughout your body, from his mouth attached to your skin and the hardness between your legs, watching him pleasure himself below you. The wet and slick quality of your previous orgasm increased the friction, and you tilted your hips forward a little more, angling the pressure to your clit, fuck, grasping the pillow under Jungkook’s head so tight that you felt your knuckles strain. Intense made more intense by his teeth. His tongue. His lips. Dancing around your ear, catching the curve, biting down, his lustful groan muffled in his throat.

Closer.

You knew.

He knew.

Jungkook snapped back and ground his teeth, whining in his chest, gripping his cock covered in your cum and his pre-cum beading at the purple-red tip. You also froze, clenching your jaw as the climb to release was cut off, sending your body into an intense array of emotions. Want. Greed. Voraciousness. The edging radiated throughout your veins, primal need pleading you to keep going, but every second wasted was another layer, threatening to amplify the next orgasm.

Which was exactly what you and Jungkook wanted.

He didn’t have to ask you what your favorite position was. He liked them all, of course, for different reasons. Doggy for the view. One leg against his chest for something to hold onto while having some room to move. Regular missionary to hold your face and kiss you in between thrusts.

But.

The condoms were on your bedside table. It took him no time at all to rip one open and roll in down, groaning at the sight of you lifting your legs up to your chest, spreading your wet pussy and tight ass for him to see. His voice was low and hoarse from exertion, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind, scooting himself forward to pin your thighs down with his chest, positioning himself right in front of your entrance.

“I fucking love that view,” he heatedly breathed out.

You grinned. “I know.”

Slowly.

Jungkook folded you in half, trapping your body between his chest and mattress and sank into you, locking eyes at the same time.

His favorite position was one and the same with yours.

“Ugh, you feel so fucking good,” he swore, stopping when he was buried balls deep, his cock twitching inside you. You appreciated it.

“Take it slow,” you hummed, nonchalantly.

Well.

A muscle in his cheek twitched. His long bangs were all over his face but you couldn’t miss his death stare. Jungkook mouthed, fuck you, and you mouthed back, you are, before lifting himself to grip your calves, pushing your thighs down onto your ribs. He slowly and deliberately thrust into you. Taunting you to balk under his stare, but you did not, rising to the occasion. Literally. Your ass raised off the mattress as he snapped his hips in and he groaned deeply, clenching his jaw as your pussy squeezed him all over.

He didn’t look away, but he was warning you.

He slid out again. Then back in.

You did it again.

He growled and slammed his hard length back into you, dropping down. His palms smacked down onto the mattress and he bent over even more to hit that wicked depth, resulting in instant ecstasy radiating through your weighted lungs. You matched his ferocity. Your arms over your head and pushing back against the headboard, and he pounded you. Hard and intense and each collision knocking the wind out of your lungs, this is it, losing yourself to him, him losing himself to you, letting the carnal instinct take over. The rhythmic slap of hips to hips, wetness, drenched in your sex and his sweat. Every so often in the madness, you caught a glimpse of his gaze, fucked-out and craving more, and you saw your reflection in his eyes.

Mirroring him.

Your breath stilled in your throat.

The compounding sensations built and your body didn’t stop reacting. Time slowed down and seemed fast all at once, this is love, something your tried so hard to understand but screw it, fuck understanding and fuck believing in it, reaching up and curling your hand around Jungkook head, forcing him down lower, his heavy breath washing over you, his eyes closing as you gripped his hair and tugged, breathlessly moaning with him at the sight of his visceral pleasure, the sound, the pace, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips.

For as long as he loved you, your heart would love him back, no matter what your thoughts said.

“Not yet,” you gasped. “I’m close.”

“Fuck me, I’m gonna burst,” he whined, digging his palms in, slamming his hips into you and you saw Jungkook bite the side of his lower lip, suddenly silent, focusing hard, his sweaty black hair sticking to his forehead. He always went quiet when he didn’t want to cum too fast.

You wanted to torture him a little but the edging had brought you too close.

“Ah, Jungkook!”

Your head snapped back into the pillows and his fell back, the wanton sound of your joined moans loud and shameless, echoing throughout your bedroom as you came hard, tensing your entire body and feeling your pussy clamp down onto his jerking cock pumping the condom full of cum. The lack of sufficient air, the whirlwind of release, the closeness and a drop his sweat on your tongue, and you shuddered, clinging onto him as wave after wave crashed into you, each throb pulsing between your legs reaching him as well, burning you both in each sharp pang of erotic euphoria.

You heard him exhale your name, erratic and rough.

Thudding heartbeat revibrating against the base of your neck.

“Get…”

You felt his heat retreat, lowering your legs carefully.

“Get on your knees,” Jungkook panted.

You almost pointed out that this was your bed and not a hotel, these cum-covered sheets are going to have to be slept on because I’m not doing laundry in the dead of night, but either your body moved faster than your brain or you didn’t give a flying fuck. Or both. You turned and springboarded off your folded right arm, still on the searing high of adrenaline and the furious pulse between your legs. You heard him rip open another condom and gasp again at seeing your cheek pressed to the pillows, your chest against the bed, arching your back to raise your ass and spread open your holes for him to see.

“You’re so fucking hot, fuck.”

You flexed your pussy. It made an audible, wet sound, startling you slightly. It didn’t deter Jungkook the least. In fact, he grabbed your ass and dragged you down to him, groaning as he thrust into you again, immediately starting up from where he left off. You shoved your hands into the mattress and flicked your head, tossing back your hair and finally getting some air, breathless at his girth and strength.

Not that any of that stopped you from smacking your ass back into him.

“Fuck!”

It was becoming a favorite word.

Probably your fault.

Well, fuck.

You steeled your core and dropped your shoulders, spreading your knees a little more. By the depth of his groan and the increased ferocity of his thrusts, you knew you had reached that perfect angle, sighing out in satisfaction as you felt the repeated pressure hitting you just right, right there, fuck, yes, Jungkook, closing your eyes to burn in the desire, higher and higher, deep and hard and chasing the same height at the same fierce pace, feeling your heartbeat slam strongly in your chest.

The swell.

The echo.

The unison.

The way the sparks raced up and down your spine. Breaths drifting out, rapid and shallow, noticing his strained grunts and muted moans once again, smiling, then focusing, squeezing him tighter, your shivering walls massaging his cock. Admired how perfectly he fit inside you, almost to the brink of discomfort, seamless, your pussy pulling him in hungrily with each snap of his hips. His fingers dug into your ass and you savored that too, all of it, not taking a single second for granted, letting yourself become overstimulated in the multiple sensations.

Jungkook’s gravelly voice choked out your name.

The frantic edge indicating he was almost done for.

Before you could respond, your head jerked back and your eyes rolled up, the high nearly alarming, depraved moan falling from your lips as the power of the orgasm seized your lungs, knocking the wind out of you. It was almost too much. You would have collapsed if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s firm hold on you, gasping as he came. His hips twitched against your ass, pressed as deep into you as possible.

You moaned as his fingernails suddenly clawed down your lower back, heightening the peak of pleasure.

So good you couldn’t speak.

There were no words.

You could barely comprehend it anyway. There was no describing how different this sex was from all the others. You had known it once, but it even better now, afterglow radiating off of you, each nerve brimming with ecstasy, letting out a gratified exhale as his body leaned against your back, his hands sliding up your stomach and to your chest, squeezing your breasts and lightly toying with your nipples.

His lips pressed to your upper back, feathering you with a meteor shower of kisses.

Your torso shook, trying to come down but suspended. You didn’t resist him, clutching the rumpled sheets, sighing softly at the thrumming beat of heart-to-heart, his cock still inside you. Getting soft and probably against his will. He groaned, sounding annoyed.

“You know there’s always tomorrow, right?” you chuckled, inhaling and catching a whiff of his cologne on your bed.

The imprint of him already.

“I think it’s already tomorrow,” Jungkook grumbled, grunting as he held down the base of the condom and pulled out.

Well, he had always been here, at the back of your mind, never forgotten.

“I’ve got more in me,” he vented sternly, although you suspected that wasn’t really directed at you. You hadn’t faced him yet but if you turned around you were be quite sure that you would be greeted by the pleasant and entertaining sight of Jungkook glaring at his limp, overworked dick. And yet. You didn’t. Instead, you looked up. The window was within your line of sight.

The night sky up above, but the moon was right here, in the magic of this room.

“Jungkook.”

“Huh?”

Right?

“You’ll stay the night, won’t you?” you breathed to the sky, wishing the dream to life to the stars you couldn’t see.

Silence.

You turned your head, past the moon-shaped lamp across the room, past walls and everyday things, past the clothes scattered everywhere, and Jungkook was blinking at you, startled for a moment, big brown eyes wide, lips parted. Piercings. Tattoos.

Years on years.

“Anything for you,” he breathed back, staring straight into your eyes.

Still the same.

“Really. I will always stay by your side.”

He climbed back onto the bed. Over you. Skin to skin. Leaning down. Kiss after kiss, meaning more than raw passion, and you felt the wetness on your face. Drop after drop, fallen stars, and Jungkook brushed him away from his thumbs and his smile, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to, noona, I’m stuck on you, forever after, and you didn’t want to cry, no more, your arms around his torso, pulling him closer, gripping his shoulders, shuddering at the foreignness of expressing emotion.

“Are we…?”

Your voice was so small but he was so close, so close, his hands in your hair, forehead to forehead.

“Are we falling in love?” you whispered, staring into his eyes and finding the stars.

And now you could see that he, too, finally found the stars he had been looking for all this time.

Jungkook smiled.

“Yes.”

Crisp and intense, this peppermint gum love where every day was the rush of falling in love more and more, forever after making memories so this feeling could never fade away.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

406 notes · View notes

ki-yomii · 2 years ago

Text

hit it/forget it | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 6.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!jk, dirty talk, squirting, creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), enemies to lovers, orgasm control/denial, drinking, slight college au ig??➥ summary | finally able to unwind for the first time in forever, you go to a friend’s party. only somewhere along the way you find yourself in bed with someone you swore you’d never sleep with. it’s too bad he’s not in any hurry to let you hit it, and forget it. ➥ notes | i’m v new to this fandom, and it has started to consume me lol ✌️🥲 ❤️ series masterlist | masterlist | inbox | AO3 ❤️

... Shit, what time is it?

Beams of sunlight pour in through the crooked blinds, stretching across the cluttered floor to flood the rumpled bed with golden light.

It’s so bright it hurts, your eyes watering with the effort it takes to open them as you roll onto your back with a quiet hiss.

Sore and still buzzed, it takes you several minutes to process your unfamiliar surroundings. Your mouth is stale and arid, the unpleasant taste of dehydration heavy on your tongue.

Needle sharp pain lances through your skull, and it’s hard to think let alone focus when it feels like someone’s shoving an icepick through your brain every time you so much as breathe wrong.

So much for a relaxing night hanging out with the guys, you think bitterly, pinching the bridge of your nose. There goes my last day off.

Spent curled up in bed fighting back nausea instead of out enjoying the last little bit of freedom your PTO offered.

If only the rest of the night had gone as well as the beginning...

Most of the group were camped around a game of beer pong when you arrived, already blitzed off their faces from pre-gaming while a few randos loitered around.

You didn’t pay them too much mind, more focused on catching up with your boys. It had been forever and a day since you’d talked to them, let alone seen them in person.

For a blissful moment it was just like old times; the floor sticky with spilled beer, wrestling matches followed by good-natured ribbing, and rowdy trash talk.

It reminded you so much of the shitty college parties they’d throw, you almost cried from the nostalgia alone.

The happiest you’d been in weeks.

Now you had adult bills and an adult life. Your schedules didn’t align like this very often. Getting to catch up and hang out with everyone again was a precious gift, one you didn’t realize how much you needed until you sunk back into the oversized couch, and took what felt like your first breath in months.

Your head was swimming, your heart bursting for fondness - only to choke on your tongue not even five minutes later when the front door slammed open to a round of hyped up chants, “JK, JK, JK!”

All the tranquility evaporated as Jeon Jungkook - the bane of your existence - waltzed over the threshold without a care in the world.

Meanwhile your heart was in your throat as he stood there in all his stupidly attractive glory while the rest of the gang surged forth. They swarmed him with friendly slaps on the back, a 12 pack of beer in one hand, and a bottle of tequila in the other.

He wasn’t supposed to be here - they said... He was supposed to be out of town for the weekend. If you’d have known -- fuck.

You wouldn’t have come. Shouldn’t have come. And now you were stuck with him for however long it took you to sober up.

God, you hated him.

Not that you knew why, really.

There was just something about him that got under your skin. Maybe it was the cocky way he held himself, his confidence sometimes bordering on arrogance.

Or maybe it was the constant teasing. (You refused to admit it might be because of how attractive you found him, and how angry that made you.)

Whatever the case, ever since he met you all those years ago, Jungkook’s made it his life’s mission to be as insufferable as possible. Always waiting in the wings with a flirty comment and that self-satisfied smirk of his.

Dealing with him was like dealing with an overgrown - competitive - toddler. It got exhausting after a while.

Far easier to avoid him altogether, even though that mentality came at the expense of your friendships.

You stopped going to events if you knew he’d be there, ducking out of get togethers last minute if you so much as caught a glimpse of his car. Eventually, your absence became accepted - expected even - which further fueled your inherent dislike of him.

As if all the reasons you don’t like him weren’t enough, you were tipsy, and that was always a recipe for disaster. Without your inhibitions halting your tongue, you had no qualms about calling him out on all his petty bullshit.

The particulars are too fuzzy to remember, but you’d been avoiding him by hiding out in the kitchen when he decided to come bother you.

One thing led to another, and he must have said something insulting enough because the next thing you knew, you’d crowded him against the counter.

He smirked while you snarled with distaste, a shot in one hand with the other balled in the open collar of his fancy button up. You thought about how nice it would be to smack that look off his face, and thoughtlessly agreed to a one v one drink off - winner takes all - just to one up him.

Damnit.

You should have left as soon as his ass showed up. And you should never have agreed to his stupid little competition in the first place. You know better than to fall prey to his schemes... yet here you are, so joke’s on you.

This has to be some kind of divine punishment.

All you wanted was to knock him down a peg (or ten). Then his stupidly handsome face, and low, mocking voice egged you on past your limits. Now, you’re in someone else’s bed, naked and sticky, nursing a hangover from hell.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

God, you hope it’s not Jin.

Any of the others aren’t much better, but he’s your bro at heart, and there are some things you can’t ever come back from. If only last night wasn’t a hazy, distant fever dream pockmarked with fitful moments of clarity...

Memories curl through your mind like tendrils of smoke, opaque and sinister. The harder you grasp at them, the more confusing they become; coalescing into a tangled blur of swollen lips, and naked, sweat-slick skin.

Salty-sweet bursting across your tongue as the burning stretch of a fat cock sinks deep, a whiskey rough voice groaning low and heavy in your ear, “Fuck, you’ve always been such a little cock tease, haven’t you, baby? Mm, yeah, just like that. Knew you always wanted me, wanted this. Hhng, shit, I’ve wanted to do this for-fuckin-ever, princess…”

Goddamn Jeon Jungkook, and whatever horse he rode in on.

Of course, you’d get laid after a dry spell, and the only thing you have to show for it is the tender ache of your thighs, the tacky sensation of dried cum clinging to the swollen lips of your pussy, and the vaguest daydream of toe-curling pleasure.

At least the sheets are soft, the mattress plush, the bedspread muted, dark colours; altogether masculine but chic.

The fluffy pillows are to die for, something like expensive cologne threaded through the fabric; citrusy and bright with notes of mellow sweetness that fill your lungs, and cloud your senses with every deep inhale.

A familiar thread in an otherwise unfamiliar bed.

Whoever it is certainly has impeccable taste... which doesn’t help narrow down your list of suspects, at all. They’re all stupidly fashionable in everything they do, meanwhile you feel like a half-decent hobgoblin half the time.

You can’t decide what’s worse: the fact you slept with someone who’s a friend of yours - not many people outside of the core group came last night - or that you can’t remember who it is.

No lie, the temptation to slip out before they wake is hard to resist. But it’ll only delay the inevitable, and you honestly don’t want to do that to someone you care about.

It’s better to face the situation head-on, no matter how much you’re dreading it.

Over and done, quick and easy like a Band-Aid.

The conversation’s going to be awkward as hell but it was a drunken mistake. You’re adults and in a few years’ time, who knows, maybe you’ll be able to look back and laugh. No reason to let it ruin years of hard-earned friendship.

“Aah,” you groan mid-stretch, “...what a fucking mess.”

“Look who’s finally awake.”

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

The world screeches to an almighty halt, crashing and burning as all the breath in your lungs catches in your chest. Your heavy eyes pop open so fast you see stars, a field of grey sheets filling your line of sight.

A wave of disbelief threatens to drown you, hysteria following in the aftermath as your mind stutters to a stop.

Stomach turning, your heart slams into your ribs so hard you’re convinced you’ll break a bone. The thought of sleeping with a friend is bad enough, but the truth? So much worse. You wish the bed would swallow you whole.

Why, you lament, why him?

That low, sleep rough tone dripping with arrogance.

It raises your hackles, sets your teeth on edge until you shake with the urge to punt his ass across the room. Never in a million years would you expect to hear that voice beside you in bed.

You wish with everything there is that it’s just a hallucination - but there’s no mistaking who that voice belongs to.

The knowledge sits bitterly in the back of your throat.

“This is a nightmare.”

No fucking way you’re turning around.

You inch to the edge of the mattress, grateful for the distance. The very idea of touching him repulses, repels.

You’re already too aware of how the bed dips beneath his weight, the shared space warmed by the sleep soft heat radiating from his skin.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jungkook scoffs. “Keep telling yourself that, baby.”

A hot palm, rough with callouses, grabs your shoulder. The steel grip tugs you close, unyielding as it guides you onto your back.

As soon as you glimpse the sunlight caught in the tangled briar of his hair, your eyes slam shut.

If you can’t see him, you can pretend he’s not there and if he’s not there, well then you won’t have to face your colossal mistake.

It might be petty and childish but all things considered, you think you’re allowed to be. Waking up next to Jeon Jungkook is earth-shattering. And altogether mortifying when you consider all the thoughts you had before you knew you fucked him.

Of all the people…

He’s made passes for years, and you always blew them off. Now? You groan. They’re never going to let you live this down. You take back every kind thought. This asshole doesn’t deserve your praise.

Before you tell him where to shove it, fingertips skim the jut of your cheekbone. The action effectively shuts you up, your brain stuttering to a resounding halt. Soft and light like butterfly kisses, they trace over the sweep of your flickering eyelashes.

It’s a ticklish reminder that you’re not alone.

You jerk away.

The click he makes with his teeth does N-O-T make you throb. Neither does his persistence, the effort to force you into acknowledging his presence redoubled. He’s stubborn, and altogether not unlike a boy pulling pigtails.

The comparison unbidden and unwelcome, you bat him away with a sharp, “Quit it.”

His voice is far too smug for your liking when he says, “Why don’t you try to make me.”

“Oh, my god.”

This asshole…

Your fingers claw into the sheets instead of his chest, nails cutting into your palms as rage lurks just beneath the surface of your skin. Your breath shoves from your lungs fast and hard. It’s a struggle to reign in the urge to pummel him bloody.

Meanwhile, Jungkook redirects his attention, his hand dipping down to dance over the front of your throat. A rough thumb maps the curve of your jaw, a shiver rolling through your body at the touch.

His low chuckle is the only warning you get before he’s leaning over, the shift in position causing the hard, compact muscles of his torso to brush your side. The fission of awareness that follows in its wake crackles down your spine, steals your breath.

Senses fixated on the sensual glide of skin on skin while pulses of arousal kindle to life behind your navel. Slick gushes from between your folds, wetting the insides of your thighs. Heart in your throat, you steady your voice long enough to say, “Seriously, just leave me alone so I can wallow in peace.”

Warm breath tickles the side of your face, the cool metal of Jungkook’s lip piercing brushing the shell of your ear as he murmurs the syllables of your name. “Come on,” he says, “I dare you.”

The hell, is he being serious right now? What does he think this is?

“What are you,” you ask. “Five?”

“Would you stop being so dramatic?”

The first hint of genuine annoyance threads through the words growled against your cheek. His tone low, a warning buried in its depths. Fire and smoke, grit and gravel. You hate how you clench at the sound. Hate how confused he’s making you.

Why is he acting like this is a normal occurrence? You expect him to lord it over you, not act so...playful?

The uncertainty rankles, and your shoulders hike up around your ears. If he thinks he can jerk you around like this, he better step up and out because you’re out of fucks to give.

This is humiliating enough, and you’re not about to relinquish what’s left of your pride.

“Do you ever stop talking,” you continue, ignoring the pulse between your thighs, the crack in your voice, “Or do you like the sound of your own voice that much?”

Your heart pounds in the ensuing silence, Jungkook all but ignoring you as he sinks his nose into your hair. The pleased rumble that vibrates from his chest into yours follows a deep inhale.

“Mm, you smell,” his lips tickle the side of your neck, “really good.”

A whimper works its way up your throat, your teeth barely catching it in time. Fissions of sensation shoot down to your stomach, hot and shivery.

“Shut up. Just stop - stop talking.”

It’s not what you mean to say - you have full intentions of cussing him out, reaching out to touch smack him - but by then, it’s too late. He’s already on the move, a mocking chuckle falling from his lips.

The sound shoots through you, stokes your rage and desire in equal measure until you’re shaking.

He tugs at the plush, tender flesh of your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Y’know,” he muses, “I wouldn’t keep doing that if I were you. You might not like what happens.”

Surrounded as you are, it’s getting harder to think.

To breathe.

To be.

Sweat and sex cling to Jungkook, the scent filling your lungs with ash and burning through your bloodstream until he’s all that remains. Surrounding, smothering, swallowing you whole. “Look at me.”

Shit, he’s close - too close.

There’s a scant amount of space between your bodies, pressed stem to stern. Your tits crush against the hard plane of his chest, nipples stiffening with every drag of his skin, every shift of his body against yours.

His half-hard cock digs into the softness of your abdomen, wet and sticky as it drools into the dip of your belly button which shouldn’t get you as hot as it does. This is so not good.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “No, I won’t.”

I can’t.

This is unacceptable.

Fucking him once is bad enough, the only saving grace is that you barely remember the taste of his lips, the weight of his body pressing into yours, the stretch of him filling you to the brim.

If you give in now, even if it’s only an inch…

Well, he’ll take a mile and you don’t have an excuse for why you’ll let him. You’re already struggling with the urge to succumb, to inch closer. There’s no telling what’ll happen if you actually look into those burning eyes of his.

Of course, he doesn’t accept your refusal.

You never expected him to.

“I said look at me.” The thumb that was gently stroking along your face hooks around your jaw, digging into the soft spot on the underside. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You grit your teeth, channel the rising lust into rage. Anything to put some much-needed distance between you before you do something you’ll regret. Like, sleep with him a second time while stone-cold sober.

“Just fuck off, Jeon. This is embarrassing enough, you don’t need to rub it in. You won, okay? Congratulations.”

You refuse to let him have his cake and eat it too. Damned if he gets to hold this over your head. That drinking competition was all his idea, anyway. The victory blooming in your chest is short-lived, thoroughly blown to pieces.

He doesn’t respond verbally.

Fast as lightning, the hand on your jaw disappears only to reappear between your thighs to shove your legs open. He doesn’t waste time, runs his knuckles along the length of your slit without hesitation.

Teasing, testing, humming in approval at what he finds.

The sudden rough touch has you jumping, gasping, eyes snapping open, fixating on his blown pupils. The grin tugging at the corners of his mouth is more a snarl, downright predatory. The metal of his lip ring glints in the light, his teeth bared while he spears you with a hooded, hungry stare.

“That’s it, show me those pretty eyes of yours.”

Breathless, your hips twitch and you clench at the praise, liquid fire pooling low in your belly.

Traitor.

“Jeon - Jungkook, knock it off.”

But you know he’s not going to stop. The ravenous look in his eyes says everything his mouth doesn’t.

“See,” he says conversationally, pausing long enough to thrust two fingers deep into you without warning. Pain sparks, flickers down your spine only to melt into a warm flush of pleasure as he twists his wrist. “That mouth of yours says one thing, but this pussy’s soaked. What am I supposed to think about that, huh?”

“I-”

Any response you have breaks off into a wounded moan, your brows furrowing as he flicks the tip of his finger against your g-spot.

“S-Shit!”

“Hm, what was that?”

A sharp smack stings across your wrist when you reach down to pull his hand away.

“Jeon - I - please…”

“Come on, use your words like a good little slut.”

“I - I can’t - shit!”

It’s impossible to think, let alone form sentences when the heel of his palm grinds against your swollen clit like that. Thick fingers curl deep, stroke, stretch until you mewl.

Every skilled thrust drives you higher, wrings pleasure from you so expertly you’ve half a mind to be pissed. Now you can see why all those girls were tripping over themselves to get with him back in college. As much as it pains you to admit it, he’s got game.

But even then, it shouldn’t be this easy to get you going.

To get your thighs clamping around his flexing forearm while uncontrollable shudders wrack your frame, finger fucked stupid by the sworn enemy.

“Hah.”

If you weren’t half out of your mind, you’d be more offended by the condescending smirk. All you do is half-heartedly smack his side, his free hand darting up to cover yours and keep it pressed against his skin.

You clench down with a whine at the feel of rippling muscle, the sight of his tatted fingers resting over your hand so delicately.

“Looks like I’m doing something right. Fuck, can you hear that, baby?” His movements slow to a crawl, the thrust of his fingers languid and deep. “Listen to how wet your tight little pussy is for me.”

Warmth creeps up your neck and sinks into the apples of your cheeks. It’s as mortifying as it is a turn on, the sloppy sounds of your needy cunt echoing back at you. Sticky arousal coats your puffy folds, every slick, squelching slide heard over stilted moans.

Without a doubt, you’re making a mess of his sheets. Judging by the husky growl of his voice, anything less wouldn’t satisfy him. “Gotta make up your mind, baby.”

He couldn’t sound any more indifferent, but the rough thrust of his fingers, the burning heat smouldering in the depths of his eyes says he’s anything but unaffected.

You whine, writhe, arch your hips to grind down on the hand working between your thighs.

It’s no use.

You get him right where you want him, only for him to flash a devilish grin and pull away. The desperation to get off builds and builds and builds until you’re half mad with it.

This asshole’s gotten you to the edge of cumming several times, only to watch with sick delight as he yanks you back, dangling you over the edge without letting you fall. You don’t even want to think about what this is doing for his already over-inflated sense of ego.

“You’ve been sending me all kinds of mixed signals for years.” He nips the tip of your nose, spreading his fingers wide open where they’re buried inside of you just to hear you squeal. “So what’s it gonna be?”

He’s playing dirty, and he knows it. It’s infuriating that smug looks so good on him. Are you really going to do this?

Ghosting his lips over yours in the barest of kisses, he whispers, slow and purposeful, “All you gotta do is say it. Be a good girl for me, and say: ‘Jungkook, please fuck me.’”

... Yes, yes, you are. But you’re never, ever going to admit that you want him.

Not when there’s nothing you can blame the impatient rise of your hips on, the grind against his palm, the unwavering eye contact that pins you in place. As unbelievable as this is, it all comes down to how horny you are and how good he looks above you.

You admit that he’s an asshole, but jesus, he’s attractive.

Jungkook chuckles, rolls his eyes. “So you’re gonna keep being a brat.”

He doesn’t look put out in the least. In fact, he’s downright feral with the anticipation of breaking you down and fucking you back together.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you begging for my cock one way or another.”

The you wish dissolves into thin air, all your focus narrowing on the flex and shift of muscle as he crawls down the length of your body. Shouldering his way between your thighs, he settles on his belly and rubs his hands along your hips.

Flinching at the first touch of his broad palms, you watch with rapt attention as his strong fingers inch closer and closer to your heat.

Every touch, every slide of skin calculated. Precise. Intent on getting your blood pumping and your pussy throbbing until you’re squirming against the sheets.

That ferocious stare, glittering like onyx in the light, tracks every movement, every twitch; catalogues what strokes get you mewling, what drag of fingers has you shuddering, shivering until you’re a downright mess.

Longtime lovers never paid half as much attention to what got you going, and a one-off mistake is doing a better job than all of them combined. Shit, he hasn’t even really done anything yet.

Jungkook’s as focused between your thighs as he is during training, a singular intent that’s intense and overwhelming. Frankly, it’s unnerving being so seen by someone you’ve considered an enemy for the longest time.

When did he start paying so much attention to you - and how did you miss it?

“Just…” you say, voice a quiet thing that sits in the space between your bodies, “Just get on with it already.”

He doesn’t need any more prompting. Jungkook uses his fingers to spread open your sticky folds. Cool air dances across your core, teasing at your swollen clit as every bit of your pussy is exposed to him.

There’s no hiding the embarrassing amount of slick wetting your thighs or how you pulse and twitch in desire.

He hums in approval at what he sees, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. “Thanks for the meal,” he says, brushing his thumb across the hood of your clit before he ducks down with his tongue out.

The firm, full contact lick has supernovas bursting behind your eyelids. He groans at the taste of you, grinds his face deeper into the apex of your thighs. The sound rumbles through your sensitive flesh, your thighs clenching around his ears.

A sigh escapes your throat, and you rest a hand on the top of his head.

Oh yes, a much better use for that mouth of his.

Your fingers delve into the thickness of his hair, inky black wrapped around your knuckles. For a moment you lose yourself in the sensation, senses so high. Every swipe of his tongue, every roll of cool metal along your heated slit as his lips pull at your folds sets you aflame.

The peace doesn’t last, overtaken by the smouldering antagonism that simmers beneath every one of your interactions. A ticking time bomb set to go off at the slightest provocation.

His face between your thighs inspires a dizzying mix of disgust and desire, that he’s even in this position pisses you off beyond belief.

In retaliation for every wrong he’s ever done (the specifics hazy when he sucks on your clit hard enough to curl your toes, the barest hint of teeth), you yank on his hair with as much strength as you’re able to muster.

His neck wrenches back, and he winces. You luxuriate in the petty revenge of it all as spite blooms warm in your chest. Serves him right. Though you gotta hand it to him, he sure knows how to use his tongue.

“You bitch,” Jungkook groans, smothering the vibrations in your slick folds. You keen, bow your back so far you’re afraid you’ll slip a disc. “That hurt.”

For all his complaining, he doesn’t stop.

Quite the opposite.

He dips his head, so you tug at the roots harder while his hands wrap around your thighs, pinning your hips to the bed while his tongue flicks and teases, licks and fucks you open slowly.

The messy sounds of your cunt as Jungkook eats you out to within an inch of your life broken by soft sighs, moans of pleasure, and the occasional masculine grunt. Previous partners have gone down on you before but never seemed to care for it.

Jungkook on the other hand? He’s loving it, eating you out with single-minded ferocity, seeking his own relief by rutting against the bed.

It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen; the wild briar of his hair in utter disarray, sweat slick strands falling over his forehead while he buries his face in you, the muscles of his back bunching and releasing with every slow rock of his hips, his quiet, muffled moans of satisfaction, the ripple of tattoos as he pets at your flank.

He’s not shy - not that you expected him to be in this regard. You’ve heard all the stories about his prowess in bed from classmates and strangers alike.

All his movements are rough and desperate, wet and messy. The careful, slow teasing from before disappearing within the blink of an eye as he becomes consumed with a frantic desire to feel you cum on his face.

It’s not surprising that you don’t last long, orgasming embarrassingly fast, stuffed full of his tongue and fingers.

“Jungkook,” you choke out his name, a broken sound that fades into open-mouthed silence.

The ball of heat in your belly bursts, rushes over you like a tidal wave. You shake apart, pussy clenching so hard your womb aches as a gush of fluid dribbles out of you, soaking the lower half of your body and the bed.

Stars dance in the darkness behind your lids. You’re strung out and weak, incapable of movement, of thought, of anything besides the actual possibility that your bones dissolved when you came.

“Shit, that’s hot.”

Jungkook shifts.

Your lashes flutter. Breathing is difficult. You can’t feel your hands, the tips of your fingers tingling.

He kneels at the foot of the bed, cum soaking the lower half of his face. His lips red and swollen, his eyes hooded, dark and lusting. Pupils blown so wide the iris is nothing more than a thin ring of brown.

His cock juts from his body in a proud line, curved towards his belly. Smears of pre-cum glitter along the valley of his abs, and you have the strangest urge to lick him clean.

Seeing him look so debauched shouldn’t be as hot as it is, and you want to kick your own ass for thinking about Jungkook like this.

Fucking him is one thing, actively appreciating him something else.

But no matter how hard you try to ignore it, the sight of him kneeling and lusting is a sucker punch to the gut. Breathless and yearning, you’re at war with yourself, contemplating round three when he opens mouth.

Again.

“Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

The jut of his chest, the arrogance in his gaze ruins everything. Anyone halfway decent with their tongue who knows what a clit is can get a woman off. Jungkook’s nothing special - contrary to all those co-ed’s.

Just another run-of-the-mill asshole who thinks he’s a god. You’re reminded of this now that you’re not cum-dumb, brain dribbling out your ears. And just when you forgot why you dislike him.

“You know what, Jeon?”

If you could move, you’d shove him off the bed and get out of dodge. As it is, you’re in no such position; knees weak, thighs shaky as phantom waves of pleasure shoot from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes.

You settle for a nasty scowl. Half as satisfying, but getting your point across all the same. “I’m still not fucking impressed.”

His expression drops into a bitchy sneer.

You want to smack him, wipe that look off his face with your palm. It would be like all your birthdays rolled into one.

“The fuck you mean?” Jungkook asks, brimming with gruff impatience. Good. Arrogant prick. “I made you squirt.”

Ignoring the pounding of your heart, you scoff and dismiss his words, no matter how true they ring. He doesn’t need to know you’ve NEVER done that before. “So? Even I can do that, you’re no better than my vibrator.”

The muscles in his jaw clench, bunching and releasing as his stormy gaze sears you to the bone. For the first time since he started this little - whatever it is - he seems genuinely pissed, shoulders tense and mouth a thin line.

You swoon, the empty ache inside of you pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

“I’ll fucking show you who’s better.”

“Sure you will,” you simper with a nasty grin, tone dripping with sarcasm.

As soon as you prop yourself up on an elbow with full intentions of hopping out of bed, a set of large hands stops you in your tracks. Panic shoots through you, and any residual anger you harbored fizzles away.

He can’t expect you to — oh, but of course, he does.

“No, not like this,” you say while you squirm, attempting to roll onto your belly. “I can’t.”

Fucking face to face is too intimate.

“Mm, no, I don’t think so, baby,” he croons, tone a mocking lilt as he cages you beneath him. “I wanna see your pretty little face when you cream all over my cock.”

Any response gets lost in a weak moan when he rubs himself against your slick folds, the fat head catching on the hood of your abused clit. You whimper, a sharp spike of arousal slicing through you, almost painful when it follows so swiftly on the tail end of your last orgasm.

You try one last time, voice reedy and thin when you say, “Jeon, please, I can’t - fuck.”

The tip slides into you without preamble, just far enough to feel it but not deep enough to get you off. The smug bastard thrusts gently, your tender, swollen walls suckling his cockhead, trying to pull him deeper.

Pure torture.

Mind wiped clean, embarrassment and protests all but forgotten, all your focus narrows down on how to get him inside you as soon as possible.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asks. “Got something to say? You’re squeezing down so hard. Want me deeper, don’t you? What a needy little slut you are for me.”

“Shit, Jeon, come on.” You pant, biting down on a whine. “Just put it in already.”

“Whatever you say.”

He keeps it slow, languidly works his cock deeper into you, inch by agonizing inch. Your muscles flutter, milk his thick shaft. It takes forever and a day before he bottoms out.

And then your eyes roll into the back of your head, hands flying up to anchor your nails into the meat of his shoulders.

He’s right there, cockhead snug against your crevice. Every ridge, every throb; it stokes the embers of your desire higher and higher, stretched so wide around him you ache; he’s the biggest you’ve had. You’ve never felt so stuffed full of cock before, it’s almost scary how good it is.

The taut skin of his belly grinds against your clit when he gets as deep as possible, pelvis flush with yours. “F-Fuck, Jeon.”

Above you, he shoots a cocky albeit weak grin.

You can’t decide if you want to slap him or have him fuck you into the mattress. Probably a bit of both. He boils your blood, but you’ve never been more aroused in your life.

Fucking hell.

“See, what’d I say? I’ll have you screaming my name in no time.”

You groan, breathing deep and slow. “Are you always such a prick?”

He hasn’t moved, but you’re on the edge, and far from ready for this to be over. The asshole hasn’t delivered. You haven’t been fucked raw, and you’re not leaving this bed until he gives it up. Now if only he could shut his mouth long enough to get the show on the road.

“Bitch.” He rolls his eyes, his broad palms firm on your hips while he shifts until your thighs rest over his. “Ready?”

You snort, shoot a comment about his dick not being that special and more than ready to tack on another scathing retort when he decides he’s had enough of your lip, pulling back and snapping his hips forward in one smooth movement.

It punches the air from your lungs.

Your mouth drops open in a near-silent gasp when the head nudges the spongy tissue of your g-spot. The sudden flood of warmth spreads out to all your limbs, pussy throbbing around him.

Your voice is shaky, spread thin, “A-Ah!”

Jungkook isn’t faring any better.

Hot palms tremble against your skin, the furrow to his brow pulling at his piercing, his mouth slack and glossy. His abdominal muscles tense with every stutter of his hips, flexing and resisting the urge to plow into you at max speed.

“Shit, baby, I forgot how tight and soft you are.”

Incapable of speech, reduced to mindless rutting. His broken moan shatters something between the two of you, and then it’s nothing but bruising kisses, sharp keens, rough hands, and frantic fucking.

He slams into you so hard the bed rattles against the wall, punctuating his filthy murmur of, “Perfect fucking fit, just like I knew you’d be.”

You appreciate his rippling muscles with your hands, caressing the firm lines of his body as you do your best to keep pace. Every other thrust has his cock slamming into your g-spot, your toes curling in the sheets.

It’s too much and not enough.

“Jungkook, I’m - I’m,” you sound wrecked, unable to even finish your sentence. “Please.”

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he growls, voice full of gravel and hips never missing a beat, “I got you. Now do it, cum, wanna feel you squirt on my cock.”

A fingertip finds your clit.

Rubs once, twice, three times, and then you see galaxies.

Crying out, you clutch him close as the bubbling pool of heat overflows, crashes into you like a tsunami. Helpless against the rushing tide. Your body spasms, your cunt gushing around Jungkook’s pistoning cock.

The slick slap of your skin almost as obscene as his groan, low and lewd, when you clench and clamp down on his shaft. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.”

Boneless and panting, you sink back into the pillows and stare up at Jungkook with glassy eyes. The early afternoon light highlights the lines of his body, the curves of his muscles, the splashes of color etched into his skin. Tremors wrack your body as you lay there while he chases after his own pleasure.

“Shit, I’m gonna — fffu-ck!”

One last thrust buries him to the hilt, his cum flooding, filling you to the brim. Face slack with pleasure, his head drops into the cradle of your shoulder. He pets your sides with gentle hands, his breath puffing across the sensitive skin of your neck while his body twitches with aftershocks.

The both of you are weak, fucked out.

You lay under him for a long time, silent except for your shuddering breaths. Your bodies coming down from unimaginable heights. When your arms aren’t so useless anymore, you push at his chest and grunt.

“Get off.”

A flood of cum follows his swift exit, thick seed dribbling down your folds and pooling on the sheets beneath your ass. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, a primal sort of appreciation curling through your belly.

Well, that’s new. And something you refuse to unpack now.

Flopping down beside you, Jungkook stretches, his expression far too self-satisfied for your liking. “For being such a bitch, you’re a good lay.”

Leave it to him and his goddamn mouth to ruin the afterglow.

You shoot him a sour look, dragging yourself to your feet.

There’s a moment where you almost fall, wobbly and off-kilter, before you regain your balance. You clean yourself gingerly with a towel hanging half out of the hamper.

Sore, tender, and vindictively pleased to see the white streak of his cum stain the dark terrycloth.

The asshole laughs at your disgruntled look, lounging on the bed like a lazy jungle cat. His thick arms cross behind his head and he watches you with dark eyes as you bend to get your panties.

Try as you might, you can’t help sneaking peeks at his barred chest. The smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth tells you he’s noticed the covert looks. You scowl. The smug bastard.

“Don’t be like that, baby. We had a great time.”

Scoffing, you refuse to dignify that with a response, and tug your shirt over your head.

“Wanna know what I think?”

“Not really, but I’m sure that won’t stop you.”

He ignores your sarcasm and continues, nonplussed, “I think you’ve never cum so hard in your life. I think you’re gagging for another ride.”

You pick something up off the floor, chuck it at his head and pivot on your heel. Anger pulses, white-hot and only partially satisfied by the pained groan from behind you as the object makes contact.

“What the hell was that for?”

“You know what that was for. God, are you always such a fucking dickhead?”

“I think you like it,” he says. “I think you like me - I think you’ve always liked me.”

You ignore the burn of your cheeks, and scoff.

The man’s ego is big enough without you adding fuel to the fire. He doesn’t need to know that was the best sex you’ve ever had. That you came so hard your toes curled, and your hands went numb.

“In your dreams, Jeon.”

Keeping your back to him, you’re about to put on your pants when an iron grip shackles itself around your wrist. You tug, testing the hold. He’s unyielding, spearing you with an intense, depthless look.

“...Jeon?”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You blink, swallow and flounder for a response. “Um, I - home?”

He frowns, and tugs you back towards the bed with a huffy sneer, “Get back in bed.”

Wait, what.

You blink, and blink again at the blush stealing its way across his face, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks a soft pink, his eyes resolutely avoiding yours. Can’t help asking, “...What?”

“S-Shut up!”

“I didn’t even-”

“Just come back to bed.”

Still in disbelief of what’s happening, you let Jungkook rearrange you to his liking. You find yourself tucked into the curve of his chest, your nose pressed against his collarbone with his buried in your hair. His lips rest against your forehead, dropping the faintest of kisses to your brow.

“...We’ll talk when you wake up.”

You can’t tell if you’re curious or horrified, but for now, getting a few more hours of sleep sounds like an excellent idea. And, you suppose, it could be worse.

Shacking up with Jungkook isn’t all that bad, so long as he keeps his mouth shut.

#jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts jk #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts fanfction #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook fic #jeongguk fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic

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tojiphile · 1 year ago

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JJK MEN + SUBMISSIVE & BREEDABLE (PT.1)

a/n. jjk brainrot. i got a lil carried away and made them longer than expected so i split this into two parts… sob. part 2 will be up soon! comments appreciated <3

cw/ tw. dom f!reader, submissive men, bondage/rope, blindfolds, begging, overstimulation, teasing, praising, breeding, slight daddy kink, unprotected sex

GOJO SATORU + BDSM !

“look at you, all tied up.” you stand back, admiring your handiwork. red rope bound satoru’s slender figure, tight enough that, if he moved, red marks would line his body tomorrow. of course, the faux god isn’t really trapped. if he really wanted to, he can get out of this predicament. you know, though, that he won’t. he likes this too much.

he whimpers, pretty cock untouched, flushing red and throbbing. your fingers graze down his body and he arches into your touch, desperate for more. his breath goes ragged as you reach his pelvis, but you stop before touching him where he do fervently needed it. “please…” he begs, under his breath.

you hum, “have you been good?” he nods, eyes squeezed shut. a tear slips past his blindfold, and you laugh lightly, teasing him, “you cryin’?”

without warning, your cool hand wraps around his thick cock. he lets out a gasp, every cell in his body sensitive to your touch. you start moving, pace quick and relentless, giving him no time to adjust to the sudden affection. hot angry tears spill down his face, “t- too much!”

you raise your brows, hands not slowing down. “but baby, you asked for this.”

GETO SUGURU + PRAISE !

you run your fingers through suguru’s long hair as he kneels between your legs, willing for you to let him move. his eyes are blown out, mouth hanging open like he’s a starving man. he can see your heat, smell your scent, and god, what he would give to just get a little taste.

he looks so gorgeous like this. as he gazes up at you with adoration, cheeks flushed red, you can’t help but fall in love with the man even more. at home, the tough exterior he displays the world falls away and he’s putty in your hands.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” you coo, running a finger along his jawline, “don’t you know that?” he whines, shaking his head, eyes shutting in embarrassment. you tsk, leaning up to squeeze his face between your palms, kissing his cheeks between words, “my precious, pretty boy. my kind, thoughtful, smart boy.”

you lay back down, “tell me you’re pretty.” he shakes his head, burying it between your thighs. you pull away, causing him to whimper. “you can taste me…” his eyes light up, “…when you tell me you’re pretty.”

he flushes an even deeper shade of red. “i..” he gets out, hesitantly.

“go on.”

“i’m… pretty.”

you can’t help but smile seeing his head hanging in embarrassment, ears burning. “that’s right,” you push your hips towards his face, “can my pretty boy take care of me?”

he nods earnestly, hands moving to grip your waist. licking his lips, he buries his head between your thighs once more, working to please your pretty cunt.

FUSHIGURO TOJI + BREEDING KINK !

toji’s aching cock buries itself deep as you ride him like a bitch in heat, tits bouncing obscenely. a large hand on your hip assists your movement while the other runs up and down your body, groping at your flesh.

his gaze is fiery with carnal desire, consuming you whole just with his eyes. “’m close,” he grunts, “gotta pull out.”

he tries to sit up, but you push him back down roughly, your hand resting firmly on his abs, as you continue to fuck yourself on his thick cock that threatens to spill any second now.

“wha- what’re you doing?” a rare moment of shock from the normally stern, stoic man. a small smile plays at your lips after hearing him stutter. you collect yourself, doe eyes round with a feigned innocence.

“daddy,” your mouth finds his ear and you whisper, “let’s give ‘gumi a little brother.”

in all your time with toji, he’s never shown you any sign of weakness. he fucks with unwavering dominance, throwing you around like a rag doll, his handsome face never contorting, always serious, determined, as if completing some sort of mission. but here, his brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, and mouth open in an ‘o’ shape, he almost looks… cute.

he mutters something under his breath. you find balance in gripping his tousled hair, grinding down on him, “what’d you say?”

“don’t…” he grits his teeth, “…say that.”

you can tell he’s close by the way his stomach tenses. “c’mon, daddy, wanna be a mommy.” toji covers his face with his hands, letting out a small whine, and the unfamiliar noise eggs you on even more.

#tojiphile #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #geto suguru smut #gojo satoru smut #fushiguro toji smut #smut blog #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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queenendless · 7 months ago

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💗 Cafe Time 💗

A/n: Imma count this as an April Fool's prank cause it's kinda nonsense.

AU centric where JJK cast here are chibis, as is everyone else in this world, and you are the sole normal sized human there.

Cute fluffy filled crack nonsense that is short as hell and cause I've wanted to write chibi stuff for a long time.

Itafushi, NobaMaki, and HaiNana crumbs here and there but SatoSugu x GN!Reader in the end.

DON'T REPOST, PLAGARIZE, COPY, EDIT, TRANSLATE AND/OR STEAL MY FANFIC CONTENT. IF YOU ENJOY MY CONTENT THEN REBLOG, LIKE, COMMENT & FOLLOW PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

AND HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S! 💌

The tale of a regular sized normie getting teleported to a Japan where everyone but themselves is chibi sized.

Their resisting negation to cursed energy that in the strongest in the country leads to your immediate discovery and recruitment into a place to stay as well as work by a burly mid aged bearded man with shades.

Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College Cafe.

Your newfound workplace and home. Where you met some regulars that quickly became your favorites.

“L/n-san~!” Dear Yuji lifted the cookie atop him, smothered in whipped cream with a bright smile and a wave reserved for you. “Eat me~! Just kidding~!”

Your pinky finger gently ruffled his salmon haired head. “Your teasing is very much warranted, you precious boi.”

In the parfait cup filled with ice cream, whipped cream and berries, a storm cloud raged atop Megumi's brooding head. “Get me outta here or I will shatter this glass.”

Yuji's face became pale with doom, hissing at you conspiratory. “He ain't kidding.”

You reached down and pulled out said grumpy Megumi who took the shinigami dog shaped candy, bashfully thanked you, and shyly pecked you on the cheek, compelling you to smooch him right on the nose. “Favorite tsundere here.”

You dropped him down on table level for Yuji to smother his boi in a good old bear hug; his infectious smile causing his emo bae to blush and ease into it and smile back.

“Maki-san~! Nibble on me~!” Nobara sung suggested cozied smack dabbed in her macaron.

“You idiot. Why did you have to admit that out loud? Here of all places?” Maki murmured, bashfully blushing, looking away amiss her red bean filled pancake sandwich.

“Maki-san! I love you~!” An unashamed Nobara rushed outta her macaron to tackle Maki into a bean pasted draped hug.

“Here.” You lifted off their pancake cover before handing a decent sized handkerchief to the girls as you passed by, earning winks of thanks from the pair before their stained faces grew messier as they commended a make out session under said hankie.

“Konbu! Tsuna Tsuna! Mentaiko!” The orange topped Toge waves eagerly at you from his perched spot on his own cupcake.

“I see you my boi and I've missed you too.” Your offered finger was taken by the rice ball speaking boi, swinging him to land before Panda lounging in the middle of a smore treat.

“Give me a hand, little buddy, tall buddy.”

“Takana!” Toge's mini hand and your long finger were more than enough to pull the fuzzy cursed doll out, though the chocolate sauce and marshmallows stuck to his fur.

You magically pulled out a wet rag to clean him up, humming at the now pristine baby. “My gift to you, my precious Panda.”

“L/n-san! Lift off please and thank you~!”

You picked up Yu's back collar to place him atop his fruit sandwich for him to slide down the creamy path, bumping right into Nanami. “Sandwich slide, hazah~!”

“Why must you condone this nonsense?” Kento commented through a mouthful of his subway sandwich, lightly bopping Haibara on his noggin as an attempted scolding.

“He's your partner. You tell me.” Your sassiness made the stern Nanami purse his lips at you in defiance but had Haibara chortling to his further annoyance, firmly tugging on his cheeks to gargle those noises, only amusing his partner more, finally doing here and now to kiss him just to keep him quiet.

Haibara's face glowed all smitten like. “Aw I love you too – !”

“Hush you and eat.” Nanami couldn't suppress a grin as he ate his subway with his favorite boi.

“Job well done, fellow yaoi buddy.” Shoko snorted at what she just saw, lounging in her lemon tea sponge cake, raising her small palm for you to give a carefully slow high five indeed.

“Keep your hands to yourself, assassin.” Riko narrowed dagger eyes at the scarred man across the room, cherry atop her head as she floated in a literal ice cream soda float.

“Riko-sama, be cautious, now.” Misato cautioned her, doing her best to stay blended within her fruity spread.

“I think he's retired from that lifestyle now.” You assured the pair, settling their nerves down when you handed them a plush doll with two eyes, eight legs and horns for them to cuddle and ride on.

“Suguru~ They're so pretty~!” Satoru plopped red bean paste sweetness into his mouth as he watched you move to and fro throughout the cafe.

Suguru munched on the cherry that sat atop with him on the cupcake. “Despite the major height difference, I will admit they look docile.”

“In that case – !” Gojo got down on one knee. “Marry us please~!”

Geto nearly choked. “Toru, we're still dating!”

Gojo got up to kiss him fully on the lips. “Well, we've practically been wedded since day one so …”

Geto's eyes crinkled with tender mirth, humming as he kissed back. “Can't argue with that logic.”

Grabbing his hand, the albino of the two floated them both on up high to reach you. “Plus, a poly ship is very sexy~”

The fact that the iconic strongest pair landed on either shoulder to kiss you simultaneously on your cheeks touched your heart.

“Aw, I – MMPH!”

The super human chibi that is Toji threw his bagel like a Frisbee disk right into your mouth. “Oi. You. This donut ain't cuttin’ it for me. Get me some beer, huh?”

“Dad!” Megumi snapped on your behalf.

“He is a beast.” Yuji anxiously sweated at the alarmingly impressive feat.

“I wanna duel him even more now.” Maki, a fellow non-cursed fighter, got fired up after peaking outside to witness his simple yet stellar stunt.

“Eh!? We already called dibs!” Gojo flared up, steam coming outta his ears.

“Hands off, monkey.” Geto emanated pure unfiltered hatred for the brute killer.

All three men had their eyes cast in shadow as literal sparks of agitation flew between them, ruining the cozy vibe of the cafe.

Able to chew and swallow that bagel up, you could speak again. “Knock yourself out, you beast.” Whisking out a jug of booze outta the blue, you knew the superhuman killer could take it, his smug self already chugging it down with one hand.

“Physically gifted,” Yuji and Maki breathed out in amazement.

“As I was gonna say,” you cupped your hands out for GoGe to sit on, your e/c eyes sparkling down at them, “Of course I'll marry you two. Size and all.”

A giggling Satoru and an amused Suguru are over the moon with your acceptance, bringing them close enough for them to smooch your lips in unison.

However later, you got an earful of “Goddamn” from your chibi sized boss at giving someone alcohol at his fine establishment.

But, you could tolerate it.

All these cuties make it all worth it.

Especially your new beaus.

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

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I LOVED the jjk men sharing a bed! How would they react if their confident s/o suddenly turned shy because of this compliment? Bonus points if they (jjk men) don't express their love verbally much and also a little shy. So, how about Yuuta, Geto and Megumi? If you write more, can you also maybe add Gojo? Thank you so much!

Please forgive me for not adding Gojo, the Megumi part just escalated too quickly and since I'm having a little bit of a Gojo addiction, one fanfic without him won't hurt 🤍 Let me know what you think!

JJK men turning the usual confident reader shy

Pairings: Yuta x reader; Geto x reader; Megumi x reader (fem is mentioned)

Warnings: tw for Megumi's part regarding body image (contains insults), reader doubts herself

Yuta Okkotsu

You look absolutely neck breaking gorgeous in your summer dress, body hugged in just the right spots. How is this the first time Yuta has ever seen you in something apart from your uniform? Unbelievable, how unacceptable.

“Hey Yuta! Do you even recognize me?”

Your sweet voice rings through his head while you wave at him with your breathtaking smile plastered on your face. Oh, he is definitely recognizing you.

He can feel his face heat up immediately as you start walking towards him, your partially exposed legs moving so elegant that he can feel his knees go weak. Of course he was always very aware of the fact that you are a striking beautiful person, but that summer dress does things to him he can’t quite comprehend.

“Pretty unusual to see me in something else than that uniform, huh? I thought that a change of scenery doesn’t hurt and it’s my day off”, you explain briefly with your firm but tender voice.

Pure confidence is dripping from your features, it’s like you know that the world belongs to you. Well, his world does in fact. And at the moment it feels like this world spins a thousand times faster than usual.

“You look like an angel.”

The second the words slip out of his tongue, he knows that he’s fucked. Yuta never complimented you, always admired you in silence. Why did this stupid words leave his mouth? You must think he’s a freak, that he’s a disgusting pervert-

“W-what?”, you stutter.

His eyes dart towards you in surprise. There you stand, completely flustered with your cheeks redden and eyes widen in a way Yuta has never seen before. Your usual composed facial features are completely screwed up, your hand covers your mouth in a desperate attempt to hide your…embarrassment.

Are you actually shy because he complimented you?

“I’m so sorry, (y/n)! I didn’t mean to irritate you”, he babbles out.

Oh, he screwed up. You’ll probably never talk to him again, he ruined not only your friendship, but made you feel uncomfortable too. But you are so precious, how was he supposed to contain himself when you come here on this lovely summer day, looking absolutely stunning in that dress?

“I…It’s just…I guess no one ever said something so genuinely nice to me”, you mutter.

You know by the glitter of purity in his wide-open orbs that Yuta truly meant what he said. But that something so nice would come out his mouth…Of course this wasn’t the first compliment you ever got, but oh how sweet it was. Not only was his lovelier than any before, but it came from him.

Yuta. The boy you’ve been admiring since he joined Jujutsu High. The boy you’ve always thought saw nothing but an ordinary girl in you.

“That’s a shame. Honestly, I thing you are one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. Not only externally, but everything about you.”

“Stop”, you hush, hiding your face behind your hands while grinning like an idiot.

Suddenly, you feel as insecure as never before, completely thrown off track by his words. It is a little ridiculous to be honest. After all, Yuta is a nice boy and his words were simple. But you can’t remember a single time he ever complimented your looks. Basically everyone else did, whether Gojo, Panda or even Megumi. But Yuta…hearing those sweet words from Yuta’s mouth is something completely different and forces even your confident walls down.

“I’m so sorry if I made you feel bad”, Yuta apologizes.

“Feel bad? I think I never felt so good in my whole life. You are just so…sweet. Thank you.”

Your words catch him off guard and make his very own cheeks redden in an instant. You just called him sweet. (y/n), the girl he always turns his head for, the girl that lingers through his mind all day, just called him sweet.

“Uh…Thank you, (y/n)”, he mutters, heart almost beating out of his chest.

“Hey, would you mind to…To grab something to eat with me?”, you questions shyly while mindlessly tucking a strand of behind your ear.

“Yeah…sure! Let’s go!”

What an absolutely stunning way to start a day. With a new summer dress, a compliment of none other than Yuta and him by your side.

Suguru Geto

He can’t help but stare at you while you tear apart your teacher with nothing but logical arguments. It is threatening and scary to be honest, the way you carry yourself with so much pride and wisdom in your eyes. But Geto is just so mesmerized by the way your beautiful mouth works wonders, leaving everyone in the room in complete silence – even Satoru.

“You’re absolutely annoying, (y/n). But fine. We’ll do it your way, then. Now get off my sight”, Masamichi Yaga hums, rubbing his temples in complete annoyance.

With a curt bow you leave the classroom, a relieved smile plastered on your features. He doesn’t know what got into him, but the second your hair waves a last goodbye, he stands up and follows you down the hallway.

“Hey, (y/n)!”

“Oh, Geto, how nice to see you! Are you doing well? I heard your last mission was quite difficult to handle.”

There you stand with your piercing gaze darted towards him, gun of a mouth draped into a gentle smile. God, why do you have to be so gorgeous? Why is it so hard for him to keep his composure whenever you’re around? You’re just so damn strong, confidence dripping from every pore of your skilled self. Geto admired you the second you joined Jujutsu High, the first time you outsmarted Satoru and your words of wisdom that helped all of them through tough missions over and over. While he doesn’t consider himself an introvert, your presence always made his knees go weak, heart beating out of his chest. Geto tried to stay professional, to ignore the stinging presence of your striking looks and brain, but today…Today he can’t contain himself anymore.

“You’re really making a difference, (y/n). You know that?”

Your heart stops for a second, eyes widen in disbelief. You are known for your arguments and tactical skills, but Geto’s words… His oh so sweet words repeat themselves over and over again in your head. Someone might think you heard praises on a daily basis, whenever about your looks or your brain. But no. Nobody has actually told you that you matter, than your impact is really making a difference. Especially hearing this from Geto’s mouth, who’s an outstanding jujutsu sorcerer and never really complimented you in any way makes your heart drop.

“Do you…really mean it?”

Why is your voice suddenly so quiet and fragile? And why the hell are tears starting to sting in your eyes? You never cry, after all weeping doesn’t solve any problems. But his words aren’t just a random compliment, they touched your soul and filled you with love.

“Of course I mean it…I should have told you way sooner, but I really admire you. I don’t want to imagine where we would be without you…Where I would be without you. I just thought that you should know that…”

And there it is, his signature smile. The smile that could end wars with how welcoming it is.

“I didn’t know that I needed to hear something like this”, you mutter while whipping your now falling tears away with your sleeve.

Geto stops in his tracks, arms embracing you in a tight hug before he is able to stop himself.

“Don’t cry because of a simple compliment that was long overdue. I should have told you that way sooner. To be exact, every one of us should do that”, he whispers softly.

“Thank you Geto. I will always think of you when I’m doubting myself”, you sniffle, avoiding his gaze at any cost.

God, how embarrassing. But what a sweet moment this is at the same time. After all, Geto doesn’t compliment and hold you in his arms on a regular basis.

Megumi Fushiguro

It was never your style to cry about anything or anyone. But his words. His cruel words repeat themselves over and over inside your head.

I always thought you’re a little ugly anyway.

Maybe lose some weight before you talk to me again.

C’mon (y/n), she’s just prettier than you.

You should have known better. You should have known that your now ex-boyfriend means nothing but trouble, that he was never really in love and spit his venomous words exclusively to hit you where it hurts.

But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re sitting on the stairs on this lovely summer day while crying your eyes out. Maybe you really aren’t good enough. Your nose is too big, your eyes are too small, your face is a little too round to be lovely. And your body. God, at the moment you truly hate the way your own frame looks.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you here, (y/n).”

Your body tenses up immediately while you try to wipe away your falling tears, hiding your face in sheer embarrassment. No, what on earth is Megumi Fushiguro doing here right now? You definitely don’t want him to see you cry, to admit that your ex was trash like he always said.

“Are you alright?”

His nearing footsteps vibrate through the stairs, making you fall into panic mode in an instant. No, please. You really want to be alone right now, you-

“Hey, what happened?”, his soft voice questions.

His long legs come to a stand to your left.

“None of your business, Fushiguro. I’m not in the mood to get picked at by you”, you mumble.

The second he sits down next to you, you immediately turn your body away from him. No way in hell is he seeing you cry today.

“To get picked at by me? You should know me better, (y/n). I can see clearly that you aren’t fine”, he responses, his tone showing his disappointment without a glimpse in his dark blue orbs.

Your eyes begin to water again at the sound of his voice.

“It seems like all I am is a disappointment these days I guess.”

He shifts his weight beside you, body drawing closer to yours. You are such a confident and outgoing person, it doesn’t suit you at all to sit on the stairs and cry. Something that really hurt must have happened. His features darken, hands balling into fists. Oh, he knows exactly what has happened.

“Did he say that, (y/n)? Did your boyfriend say such things to you?”

Megumi really tries to stay calm, to let his voice sound soft and unbothered, but he really wants to punch this jerk right now. It seems like he never really understood what a breathtaking gorgeous girl you are, that you could do so much better than this.

“He isn’t my boyfriend anymore”, you reply, your voice more bitter than you actually feel about that fact.

The relationship’s end isn’t what makes you feel this way. After all, you always knew that this was in no was a forever thing, that it was more like a pastime. But his cruel words simply leave you completely shattered, your heart scarred so deep that you can’t ignore it.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

You snort while side-eyeing Megumi.

“Sorry? Don’t be ridiculous. You never missed a chance to pick on me about him”, you comment dryly.

Oh, if you only knew. Megumi would never admit it, but he simply hated the idea of you having a boyfriend like him – a boyfriend who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve it when he could. Megumi would give you the world, he would carry you on his hands through every highs and lows.

But he would never admit that to you. Instead, he makes stupid comments about every little thing you do in a frantic attempt to keep himself together. Because if you ever catch a glimpse of his true feelings towards you, you’d probably never talk to him again.

“Might be true, but you’re feeling bad already.”

Not this time though. Not when you’re sitting next to him while being a complete mess, not when your puffy cheeks are proof enough than you sat here and cries for a while.

“You boys just never fail to hurt me I guess.”

“I would never hurt you”, he responses immediately, tongue faster than his mind.

Slowly, you turn your body to face him and his heart drops. You look nothing like yourself anymore, heartbroken in every way. What the hell happened?

“I couldn’t care less about the fact that he ended things. But I just feel like it was my fault partially. I guess I wasn’t attractive enough for him”, you mumble through your veil of tears.

Megumi can’t help but stare at you in disbelief. Did you really just say that? Did that jerk make you believe that you aren’t beautiful, that you aren’t worth his puny self? How ridiculous to even think that.

But he can tell by the hurt in your eyes that it must be true. Thick anger begins to rise inside Megumi.

“Did he say that, (y/n)? Did he say anything that implied that you’re not good looking?”, he asks with empty voice.

You cleverly avoid his gaze as you nod carefully. Megumi’s world stops for a moment. It’s so ridiculous, so unbelievable wrong for him that someone called the most beautiful human being on earth anything less than that.

“You have to be kidding, right? Because all I’m seeing is that you’re absolutely stunning. I could watch you for a lifetime, (y/n). You are so breathtaking that it hurts, everyone turns their heads after you. Don’t get me started on the way you are probably the only one that looks good in ratty pajamas, your stunning hair, well-formed hips or breathtaking eyes. For real, I’m convinced that all love songs have to be about you. Don’t let a jerk like him bring you down, don’t you dare to believe a single word of the bullshit he said, you heard me?”

He breathes heavy while all you can do is stare at him. No more tears fall from your cheeks, no more sniffles are heard. No, complete silence hangs between the two of you while Megumi immediately regrets his words. Maybe he took it too far, you must think that he’s a total freak for saying such things.

“Is this…really how you feel about me?”, you softly ask, your arms crossed in front of your chest.

Fuck, your body immediately slips away a few inches, your hands feverishly playing with your hair. But something about your face changes. Is this a slight blush creeping up your puffy cheeks? And it almost looks like a small smile is forming on your delicate lips.

“I always felt that way about you, (y/n). Don’t think I’d made things up just to make you feel better”, he mutters while scratching his head.

“Oh”, you simply blur out while swallowing heavy.

Why the hell is he always acting this dumb when it comes to you? Megumi should know better, he is very aware of the fact that you and him will never be a thing, that he simply isn’t in your league. But now he probably ruined your friendship too.

Suddenly, your arms grip his tightly while you press your face against his shoulder. His heart drops into his pants, eyes wide open at this outburst. The two of you didn’t even share a hug until now.

“Thank you, Megumi. Your words mean the world to me”, you cry out, grabbing his arms even tighter than before.

Is he allowed to…touch you? Carefully, he places his hand on your back and begins to rub it in small circles.

“And you mean the world to me”, he speaks out, more to himself than to you.

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therealmrsgojo · 9 months ago

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I'd lie

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

summary: throughout your entire existence, gojo satoru has been a constant companion, providing comfort and a sense of belonging. as the days turned into years, you discovered yourself succumbing to an intense affection for him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. warnings: sfw, fluff, plot-heavy, canon divergence. mentions of injuries, spoilers if you haven't read jjk s2 (gojo's past arc) inspired by i'd lie song. word count: 10.6k "I'm holding every breath for you."

7th of December, 2000.

"(Y/N)?" Your father's soft knock interrupted your reading. You tore your gaze from the book and carefully placed it on your desk.

You opened the door and looked up at him. "Yes? I was reading, and I was told I'd resume my training in the afternoon."

Your father dismissed your statement as he crouched and placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, face devoid of emotion. "Tonight, we have been invited by the Gojo clan for dinner," he announced. "Their heir, Satoru, who is around your age, will celebrate his birthday today. It's an important occasion, and I expect you to behave properly. Remember the lessons you learned about their clan from your advisor?"

You nodded politely to your father. "Yes."

Despite never meeting your mother in person, you felt her love through the tangible items she left behind for you. As you grew up, you cherished the handmade clothes and plush toys she crafted while carrying you in her womb, knowing that each stitch symbolized her love for you. You could feel her excitement and anticipation for the life she hoped to share in her letters about her dreams for your future together.

These mementos became treasured possessions for both you and your father, providing comfort and connection to the mother who was taken from you too soon.

You are the sole heir of the (L/N) clan, who have been practicing the elusive and powerful Reverse Curse Technique for generations, dating back to the ancient Heian Era; a rare and unique technique that only a select few sorcerers have ever been able to master fully.

As an only child, you are treated with the utmost care, like a precious and delicate flower that could wilt at any moment. Forbidden from leaving the confines of your estate, your education is conducted by a private advisor who visits you within the walls of your home.

Your father, consumed by the grief of losing your mother, has shut out the outside world and left you in the care of the servants. But, having finally overcome his sorrow, he is focused entirely on your training. He speaks in riddles and mysteries, hinting at your potential and the significant responsibilities that come with mastering the Reverse Curse Technique, even though you are still young and inexperienced.

Although you didn't fully understand it, you were grateful that he never replaced your mother.

According to gossip, your mother and the current head wife of the Gojo family were inseparable friends before the latter's untimely demise. Their bond was so strong that people often joked that they might have conspired to conceive simultaneously. However, you only saw her once when you were younger, stealthily peering from behind a pillar.

The memory of her tear-streaked face as she lamented to your father about his prolonged absence from society is etched in your mind. Her beauty was as striking as your mother's, and you couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness when your father dismissed her.

You feel your servant's gentle hands carefully gathering your hair as she expertly pins it up in preparation for the long-awaited dinner with the Gojo clan. A small smile graces your lips as you realize this is your first time leaving the estate. You can't help but wonder what the night has in store for you - if you'll be able to make new friends and if they'll like you enough to hug you.

As your servant announces that she has put the finishing touches on your hair, you take a deep breath, eagerly anticipating the exciting and unknown adventure ahead.

"It's done," she says, and you know that you're ready for whatever the night may bring.

"Thank you," you replied.

An hour passes, and you and your father walk toward the entrance of the grand estate ahead of you. Seeing the estate's towering gates and intricately designed walls leaves you in awe, but you feel timid as you realize you haven't had many interactions with people other than your loyal servants.

You keep your head down, avoiding the gaze of some people standing at the gate, and clench your fingers tightly. You try to take slow, deep breaths to calm yourself down, but your heart beats faster with each passing second.

As you continued walking, lost in thought, a familiar-faced woman with a serene smile and eyes that shone like glassy beads stood just after the gates approached you. Her voice was gentle and soothing as she said, "My dear, (Y/N)?"

She immediately walked towards you with open arms and embraced you tightly. "I'm so happy you and your father came," she added, her voice reflecting the happiness and sorrow in her heart. "Your mother was my dearest best friend; you can call me Suzuki," she said, her eyes glistening with tears of fond memories.

You hummed and couldn't help but notice the warmth that emanated from her. It wasn't just her physical warmth but the comforting scent that enveloped you. The fragrance was familiar yet unique, making you wonder if your mother had ever exuded this aura. Something that you wouldn't ever know.

Whatever it was, you found yourself drawn to her, feeling a sense of calmness in her presence. Your previous overwhelming nervousness slowly dissipated from your body, and you could feel your eyes moisten - as if you were finally experiencing the long-awaited embrace of a loving mother, the one you had yearned for all your life upon hearing descriptions from your servants.

The feeling was so comforting that made you close your eyes and take a deep breath, savoring the moment of pure bliss.

You glanced at your father, standing nearby, only to see his eyes fixed on his feet. Sensing your sadness, your father suggested that you all go inside, noting that the temperature was dropping rapidly.

The woman's arms gently unfolded as she stared lovingly at you, "Please, come with me, my dear. Allow me to introduce you to my son." She gestured towards a young man you finally noticed, standing under the estate's central porch, having him fully witness your interaction with his mother.

You could tell that his mother, Suzuki, was proud to introduce her son to you. As she made the introduction, his eyes were fixated on yours, curiosity evident. Suzuki spoke in a welcoming tone, "This is Satoru. I've told him about you and your mother. I hope you can become friends."

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)," Satoru's expression was one of eager anticipation as he waited for you to respond. You could sense he was genuinely interested. You felt a sense of sincerity in his words.

You responded, hoping to mirror his welcoming tone, "It's nice to meet you, too."

Still gazing into his eyes, you can't help but be entirely captivated by their intense shade of blue. It was as if you were staring into the depths of the ocean or the vast expanse of the sky. The color was so vivid and striking that it almost felt like some irresistible force was pulling you in.

You can't look away, and as you continued to stare, hearing his mother order the servants to start preparing the supper, you felt a sense of power emanating from him — the six eyes.

You suddenly heard your father's voice calling out your name, snapping you back to reality. You quickly went to the grand dining hall, where an opulent feast awaited you. The table was covered with various mouth-watering dishes, each more extravagant than the last. You feel a sense of awe at the sheer amount of food laid out before you.

It was clear that no expense had been spared in preparing this feast, and you can't wait to indulge in the delicious dishes that awaited you.

The only people present were Satoru's parents, you, your father, and the attending servants. It was a small gathering, especially considering the Gojo clan's reputation for throwing lavish parties. You couldn't help but wonder why the birthday celebration of the next head of the clan would be so simple.

Noticing your curious gaze, Suzuki spoke up. "Birthday dinners are a deeply personal and intimate affair for us," she explained. "Traditionally, we only invite our closest family members to these gatherings. It allows us to truly focus on celebrating our loved one's life and accomplishments without any distractions."

It was clear that they valued quality over quantity when it came to their family gatherings, and you admired their dedication to keeping their traditions alive - making you realize that this was more meaningful than any extravagant party could ever be.

Everyone started to settle into their seats around the beautifully decorated table, your father's voice rang out with gratitude and appreciation. "Thank you for inviting us," he said, his words carrying a weight of respect.

You were just about to slide the seat next to your father into a more comfortable position when you heard Satoru's voice calling out to you. "Sit beside me?" Turning your head to see him gesturing towards the empty seat beside him, a tiny smile across his face.

You looked towards your father and saw him nod his head in approval.

As you made your way towards Satoru, you noticed how the light from the window cast a warm glow on his features, highlighting the contours of his face and the softness of his skin. You sat beside him, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity as you settled.

The plates of aromatic food started being passed around the table, and small talk between your father and the current head of the Gojo clan grew more animated - Satoru turned his attention to you. He leaned in closer, his voice lowered to a gentle whisper, "Are you okay? What do you want to eat?"

It was apparent from how the boy spoke that he deeply understood your situation. It seemed like his mother had informed him about most of the details; evidently, as he looked around the table, gathering some delicious food to fill your plate as if he had been doing it for years.

You were touched by his kindness and felt a warm glow of gratitude spread through you. His actions and gentle inquiry made you think you can finally have a friend.

"(Y/N)?" Satoru called out your name with a hint of concern in his voice. His face was marked with worry, and his eyebrows were furrowed in a frown as he noticed that you were staring at him.

In an unguarded moment, you spoke your thoughts out loud to him, "You have your father's eyes." The words slipped out accidentally, catching you off guard. You felt a sudden rush of embarrassment flood you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You quickly realized what you had just said and clamped your hand across your lips, hoping to somehow undo the slip of the tongue.

"Eh?" Satoru was taken aback, their face displaying a clear expression of surprise as they let out a small gasp. However, this was quickly followed by laughter that grew louder by the second.

His hands went straight to his stomach as if trying to contain the mirth, but their efforts were in vain as he continued laughing uncontrollably. Amidst the laughter, he managed to utter a barely coherent "W-h-what?" as he doubled over, his laughter showing no signs of abating anytime soon.

"I apologize. Happy birthday?" you said to him, not expecting your words to make him laugh more. You then noticed that he was repeatedly stomping, and you could see tears streaming down his cheeks.

Not being able to resist the infectious sound of his laughter anymore, soon, you found yourself laughing with him.

Gojo Satoru and (L/N)(Y/N)'s laugh was heard outside the dining room. The two children - aged eleven and soon to be the heads of their respective clans - sat together, laughing without any care.

People around them stopped what they were doing and looked towards the source of the laughter, wondering what could be so amusing, seeing their faces were red and tears streaming down their cheeks.

Despite the curious stares, laughter filled the air and echoed through the room. The questions they asked were barely audible. It was as if the two of you were in your own universe, oblivious to everything else.

The joy you both shared was infectious, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered.

14th of February 2004

You stood outside your estate, waiting for your best friend, Gojo Satoru, to arrive, when you heard his voice calling out to you, "Hey, doll!" You turned around to see him walking towards you, his signature wide smile lighting up his face.

Standing beside you, your father welcomed him warmly as he entered the gates. Satoru was a frequent visitor to your estate, and you always enjoyed his company.

"Satoru." He looked as dashing as ever, with his striking features and confident demeanor. Your father dismissed both of you to start the day, letting you know you could call him anytime.

Walking side by side, you could feel his infectious energy filling the air, and you can't help but feel grateful for his friendship and the joy he brought into your life ever since he met you.

During your early meal with your father, he suddenly asked, "Is Gojo Satoru courting you?" Shocked by the question, you almost choked on your water. You quickly composed yourself and responded, "What? No. He's just my friend."

Your father continued to stare at you, and after a few moments, he spoke again, "I've noticed the fondness he displays towards you. It's obvious, and I am a man myself. He visits our estate countless times and would rather spend time with you than attend gatherings and meetings with his own father. It's no surprise that rumors have started to spread about your relationship with the holder of the six eyes."

Annoyed, you replied, "Don't call him that. He has a name." You were ready to stand up and leave the conversation, but your father chuckled and added, "Well, it seems like he's not the only one enamored, after all."

You continued towards the gardens where you usually hang out with your friend; you saw that your friend was sporting a massive grin. You felt suspicious since you knew that look of his all too well.

"Why are you smiling like an idiot?" you asked him, trying to mask your amusement. You felt he was up to something but wanted to hear it from him. "Did something happen? Don't tell me you're planning one of your pranks again?" you added as you approached him.

"Oh, no! God no, doll face," he exclaimed, removing his glasses, "Not when I promised to you the last time. Wouldn't want to receive your powerful smacks in my head again."

He quickly bent down and sat on the picnic cloth splayed across the lush green grass, dismissing your glare. "But you can't stop me from calling you doll~"

You let out a defeated sigh and uttered a single word, "Stop." you sat down and noticed his eyes immediately drawn to the basket of sweets near him. You could see a broad smile growing on his face as he assessed it filled with an assortment of treats, cookies, and chocolates each one carefully made with your own hands.

Satoru enthusiastically expressed his admiration as he eagerly proceeded to unwrap one.

"You really are the most amazing person in the world," he exclaimed dramatically, his eyes sparkling with delight. Without wasting any time, he took a bite of the treat, savoring the delicious flavor with a look of sheer pleasure on his face. "This is the only thing I'll ever fall in love with," he added, munching and running his fingers through his hair.

hope not. hope you're wrong.

You reached out for one of the freshly baked cookies, and you marveled at the breathtaking view of the garden. It was a sight that you had grown accustomed to, yet it never failed to take your breath away.

Your gaze drifted towards the dandelions swaying in the gentle breeze, and you smiled at the memory of planting them with your best friend. You recalled how he had complained every other minute, but you both had laughed and enjoyed each other's company nonetheless.

Satoru reached for another sweet from the basket. "I am thrilled that we are going to attend Jujutsu High together next year," he exclaimed excitedly. "Finally, we can be classmates!"

You playfully teased him, saying, "After all that begging you did to my father to let me enroll, I can't even look at you anymore." You laughed as you saw his shoulders slump in response.

"It's not begging, (Y/N)! It's convincing!" Satoru retorted, pinching your cheeks and ruffling your hair. You giggled as you playfully slapped his hands away from your hair.

"Sounds the same to me," He pouted in response.

"You know, doll. I have decided to follow your advice from last week," he continued, his eyes still fixed on you. He started admiring how the wind softly moved your hair; his eyes widened slightly at how red your cheeks were from his pinching.

"Satoru?" You felt your cheeks grow warm as you realized how closely he was silently looking at you. For a moment, you were lost in his gaze, mesmerized by the different colors you could count in his eyes.

Snapping out of his trance, he cleared his throat, and a slight twinge of red appeared on his cheeks as he avoided your gaze. "I plan to buy guitars for the both of us so we can start learning, as you suggested," he said, still feeling shy.

For a second, Satoru forgot about the sweets and instead focused on the loud thump of his heart, how his hands trembled slightly, admiring the beauty of the person beside him.

1st of December, 2005

You leaned your head against the cool glass of the car window, closed your eyes, and let out a deep sigh. The engine's hum and the car's soft vibrations, as it moved along the road, were soothing and almost lulling you into a peaceful slumber. However, your reverie was interrupted by the persistent buzzing in your pocket. It was your phone, which had already buzzed for the 19th time from your best friend.

Sitting beside you, Shoko noticed your expression and asked, "It's Satoru again?" She chuckled as she knew that Satoru tended to be clingy to you.

"Seems like he can't keep his eyes off you, huh?" In the passenger seat, Suguru joined in the laughter and commented that he, too, was familiar with Satoru's attachment to you and found it amusing.

You recounted the events from the previous day, "I suppose I am to blame for the whole situation. When he asked me where I intended to go without him this weekend, I knew he would be able to tell if I lied. That's why I ended up avoiding him and his questions altogether." As you spoke, your phone buzzed once again, interrupting the conversation.

Shoko put her arm around you and pinched your left cheek playfully as she spoke, "Well, we can't have him tagging along with us when we plan to buy him gifts for his upcoming day, can we?" You couldn't help but smile at her teasing, knowing she was right.

Then, Suguru interrupted your conversation, saying, "We're here, ladies." As he spoke, the car pulled up in front of the mall where the three of you had planned to go shopping.

The hours spent with your friends seem to have flown by in a blur; you all had a wonderful time browsing through countless stores, chatting and laughing along the way.

After searching for a perfect gift, you finally found a soft, green-colored scarf adorned with intricate details. The green shade of the scarf is just the right hue that your friend likes but rarely talks about. The embroidery on the scarf is meticulously crafted and adds a touch of elegance to the overall design.

You can't resist the thought of Satoru wearing it, and a blush spread across your cheeks as you imagined how handsome he would look in it. The scarf was indeed a work of art, and you're excited to see the look of delight on Satoru's face when he received it.

You find yourself sitting comfortably in the back of the car, feeling relaxed after finishing your lunch just a few minutes ago. Your two friends are still outside, indulging in a smoking break before joining you. With nothing much to do, you reach for your phone and check the last message Satoru sent you an hour ago.

Satoru Hey, can you please tell me where you are at the moment? I'll fetch you. I won't ask for any more details if you want. I'm feeling soooooo bored right now; it feels like there is nothing left to do without you. Suguru and Shoko left the campus, too. Please answer and hang out with me, doll. :(

You laughed at his silliness, typing a quick reply.

I'm on my way and will be there shortly. I can almost see you making a pouty face right now.

Satoru I. am. not. pouting! :P

Your two friends got into the car; Shoko offered to keep the gift you had brought for Satoru safe until the right moment. "Since he hangs out a lot in your room, he might accidentally stumble upon it," she added with a smile. You gratefully handed the gift over to her,

"Thank you, Shoko." You replied, chuckling and handing her the paper bag.

"No need to thank me; just remember what you promised me about teaching me more about your technique." She said as she accepted the bag.

"Are you sure we're not lost sisters or something? I swear you learn too fast. You're too talented," You teased, hearing Suguru's laughter in front of the car.

"It's because I have a great teacher." She winked at you, pulling out her phone to check it.

Suguru was reminded about when they tried learning the Reverse Curse Technique from you. He couldn't help but envy Shoko, who could pick it up quickly, especially since she was learning it directly from an (L/N). The two males were not so lucky and struggled with the technique.

After that, whenever Satoru saw Shoko practicing with you, he would get visibly upset and complain that it wasn't fair. In fact, he even ignored Shoko for a whole month at first, giving her the cold shoulder and grumping every time she was around you. It was clear that Satoru was jealous and frustrated, and Suguru chuckled at his own thoughts.

Anyone in the same room where you and Satoru interact can easily perceive the depth of your affection towards each other. Onlookers would be unable to deny the palpable energy and connection between you two.

1st of March, 2006.

You softly chuckled as you watched the scene unfold before you. Shoko is sprinting after Satoru, holding the stolen lighter in his hand and waving it teasingly at her. You can hear the girl's colorful curses as she tries to catch up with him, but it's almost impossible.

Finally, she gives up and flops beside you, still panting from the chase, watching as Suguru takes over in chasing Satoru.

You glance at her and smile sympathetically, knowing how frustrating it can be to try and catch Satoru when he's in one of his playful moods. "He does like to argue, doesn't he?" Shoko comments, looking at you with a hint of amusement.

You nod, still watching Satoru as he runs around in circles, winking and waving back at you theatrically. "It's just his way of showing affection, really. He likes to tease and goof around with the people he cares about." You can't help but grin at the sight of your best friend, feeling a warm sense of fondness wash over you.

As you continue to watch Satoru, you find yourself getting lost in his presence. You noticed how his white hair shimmers with every move he makes. His laughter is like music to your ears, and you're completely entranced by him. You liked seeing him happy. Your chest tightens with a fluttering sensation, blushing as you look away.

Unbeknownst to you, Shoko has been watching you the whole time, a sly smirk playing on her lips as she observes your reactions to Satoru. She can tell you're smitten with him, and she can't help but feel amused by it. To her, you look like a child who's been given a treat after a long day.

"Do you love him?" It was Shoko who had asked, and you could feel your heart racing, making you freeze, and you tried to come up with a response that wouldn't give away your true feelings.

You took a deep breath and replied, "Of course I do. He's my friend. I love all of you." You hoped your answer would satisfy her curiosity, but she wasn't done yet.

"You know what I mean, right?" she continued, "It's just the two of us here; no need to be shy about it. Won't tell anyone."

You could feel your cheeks turning red as you realized what she was getting at. You didn't want to admit it, but you couldn't deny your feelings for Satoru to yourself. You tried to ignore them, to push them down and pretend that they didn't exist, afraid that it would destroy your friendship, but they were always there, simmering beneath the surface.

You felt a sense of panic when you saw Satoru and Suguru approaching from across the field. You didn't want them to overhear anything, and you knew that Shoko wouldn't give up until she had her answer.

Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't love him like that."

The bitterness of your words is so intense that it feels like you are tasting poison.

2nd of April, 2006.

As you held the phone to your ear, you heard Gojo Satoru's voice on the other end, "I miss you, doll." You laughed softly and responded, "It's only been three days since I last saw you, Satoru."

There was a brief pause before Satoru spoke again, his breaths audible on the other end of the line. You started to feel a little worried as he remained silent for a while.

Although your father had allowed you to enroll at the school, it was under the condition that you wouldn't participate in any dangerous missions and would help out as a support during your time there.

"Are you okay?" you asked, aware of his challenges on his current mission with the Star Plasma Vessel. Your best friend had been keeping you updated on the situation, and you had just learned that their day had been extended in Okinawa.

"I'm fine; I just miss you a lot. I think this is the longest we've been apart since we started at Jujutsu High," Satoru replied, shuffling noises audible in the background.

You couldn't help but worry about his well-being. "Have you even rested? When was the last time you slept, Satoru?"

"I'll sleep when I get back, I promise. And don't worry, Suguru is here with me, so everything's fine. I'll see you tomorrow when we get back early in the morning, doll."

You signed, knowing Satoru was persistent and wouldn't listen to you. "I did some appointments with Yaga earlier so I'm going to bed now. I might be still sleeping at that time, so just knock on my door, Okay?"

"Okay. Can we not end the call?" Satoru pleaded, and you felt your heart flutter a little at his words.

"Sure," you tiredly replied, smiling as you put the phone on speaker and closing your eyes as you drifted off to sleep.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," Satoru said, a smile audible in his voice as he heard your soft breaths indicating that you had already fallen asleep. He can't wait to be reunited with you, having brought you some native sweets and souvenirs from the island.

You were sound asleep when suddenly, you were jolted awake by a powerful tremor that shook the ground beneath you. You immediately sensed the presence of intense and menacing curse energy emanating from somewhere nearby.

Without wasting any time, you tossed aside your covers, swung your legs over the side of the bed, and hurriedly made your way to your closet.

You rummaged through your clothes, quickly grabbing your pants and sweatshirt. You changed out of your nightwear, and within a minute, you stood at your door, pulling it open.

You saw Shoko, still half-asleep and groggy, peeking out to see what was going on. "What's happening, (Y/N)? Wait for me, I'll get dressed," she murmured, rubbing her eyes.

But you were already in a hurry and didn't want to waste any time. "I'll go ahead; you can follow me after," you hollered over your shoulder as you dashed out of the room, ignoring her calls.

You ran as fast as you could, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. You knew that Satoru and Suguru were supposed to return from their mission at this time, and the thought made you even more anxious.

As you sprinted across the school grounds, you could sense the presence of more and more energy curses. You felt your heart rate increase, and your breathing became more labored. And then, when you finally arrived at the school gates, you saw the destruction that lay in front of you.

It was a terrifying sight, and your nerves were on edge. You ran even faster toward the source of the disturbance, and as you got closer, you caught a glimpse of a white-haired man lying on the ground, covered in blood. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your breath stop.

Gojo Satoru.

As you arrived at the scene, your eyes widened in shock and disbelief at what you saw. His body was covered in his own blood. Your heart started pounding harder in your chest, and you felt a lump in your throat.

Tears welled up in your eyes and started dropping down your cheeks as you struggled to take deep, shaky breaths.

You knew you had to stay composed and take control of the situation, but your mind was racing, and your hands trembled. You whispered to yourself, "Okay. Okay. Calm down. I- I can- I can do this." You repeated these words like a mantra, trying to steady your nerves and focus.

You attempted to gather your curse energy on your hands, a technique you had practiced for countless hours since childhood; you began to take notice of the true extent of the damage on his body, a vital and ugly stab on his neck, and it follows going down on his chest, covered in more blood, your palms felt warm and tingly as you focused your energy, but the sudden realization caused your breaths to become more rapid, shaky, and uncontrollable.

This was not a time to make any mistakes.

Your body shook with sobs as you tried to focus your mind, knowing that timing was crucial to the success of your technique. The air around you was tense, and you could feel your heart pounding.

Desperately, you reached out to the person lying before you, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. "Please," you whispered, your voice raw with emotion. "Please don't leave me too."

As you spoke, you could feel the cursed energy building in your hands, and you closed your eyes, willing the cursed energy to flow through you. With trembling fingers, you placed your hands on their neck and chest, feeling the warmth of their skin under your touch.

Taking a deep breath, you began to perform the Reverse Curse Technique. Your mind raced, your body stiffening as the red light enveloped his body.

The minutes ticked by, each second feeling like an eternity as you fought to save the life of the person you held most dear. Sweat dripped down your forehead, your muscles straining to maintain the curse energy. But you refused to give up. You refused to lose them.

And finally, after what felt like an eternity, you felt the curse energy dissipate, leaving your body drained and exhausted. But as you opened your eyes, you saw him take deep, shuddering, fast breaths, his eyes flickering open.

You suddenly shouted, "Satoru!" as you watched his body start to heal before your eyes, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you as you knew you were successful.

Your hands remained on his neck and chest as you gained eye contact. He recognized you immediately.

"(Y/N)," he uttered, his voice hoarse from the recent events. He lifted his right hand to cup your cheek and wipe the tears away. "I'm okay now, thank you, doll," he said with a small smile, staring at you with gratitude.

You were pulled into his chest when he sat, his arms circling around you gently, and you felt him bury his face in your hair and breathe in. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, and after a few moments, he spoke again.

"I need to go to Amanai and Suguru. Someone infiltrated, and it's dangerous," he said, his voice full of concern. He placed a small kiss on the top of your head. You nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Okay. I'll wait here," you replied, giving him a reassuring, shaky smile. You watched as he stood up and felt a pang of worry as he gave you one last look, nodding before leaving.

You spent hours sitting anxiously on the edge of your bed, hands tightly clasped on your knees. The minutes dragged on like hours, and suddenly, there was a knock on your bedroom door, and your heart leaped with anticipation. You jumped from the bed and quickly made your way, eager to see who was on the other side.

As you opened the door, your eyes widened with surprise to see Satoru standing before you. He was still dressed in the same clothes as before, blood on the clothes, and it was evident as soon he was done he went straight to your room.

His eyes were downcast as he stood before you, his lips pursed in a thin line.

You invited him in with a soft, gentle voice, closing the door behind him. You placed your hands on his shoulders to get him to look up at you. "What happened?" you asked, your voice soft and caring.

Satoru's breaths were shaky and unstable as he reached out to grab your hands. When he finally looked up at you, you could see his eyes were glossy with unshed tears. "She's gone. I failed," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

You knew how much Riko Amanai grew to Satoru and Suguru in a short period. You remembered when Satoru told you they would offer to release her from assimilation, as they had empathized with her situation. He had been so confident that you would love her and get along with each other.

"I'm sorry," you said, pulling him into a comforting hug and resting your head on his shoulders.

Satoru buried his face in your neck, letting out a shaky breath as he finally let the tears flow. Even as a child, he had been the goofy and confident boy who never took anything seriously.

He was always expected to never cry, having the potential of being the strongest sorcerer alive. And yet, there he was, seeking solace in your embrace as he grew weak in your arms.

You felt his arms encircle your waist, gripping your back tightly as he steadied himself with your support. He mumbled your name and an apology, his voice still choked with emotion.

Gojo Satoru had never let anyone see him cry; it was a weakness in the eyes of others. But tonight, he finally found solace with your gentle, loving, and reassuring presence, letting his emotions flow freely without any care, as if you were his safe haven; the only beacon of light he could rely on.

6th of July, 2007.

The year flew by, and news about your actions spread like wildfire throughout the sorcery world.

It was not long before it was widely known that you, (L/N)(Y/N), the next head of your clan, brought back the legendary Gojo Satoru to life.

Suzuki, Satoru's mother, decided to visit you and express her gratitude in person. She arrived at your school grounds with teary eyes and a heart full of appreciation for what you had done.

Your father was thrilled upon hearing this news and was boastful about your accomplishment.

Then, the passing of Yu Haibara, a dear junior of yours at Jujutsu High, had left a lasting impact on your life. The memory of his sweet smile and kind nature had kept you up at night, making your days at the school more uneasy than ever before.

Amidst the grief and turmoil, something unexpected occurred that would change your life forever. Your close friend, Geto Suguru, had defected.

"Like hell he did!" Satoru erupted in anger, shouting at the mention of Suguru's alleged actions.

The principal, Yaga, visibly stressed, struggled to explain the situation to the two of you. "Satoru, I don't understand what's going on, either," he said, trying to soothe the problem.

As you reached out to try and hold onto Satoru's bleeding and trembling hands, tears streamed down your face. It was clear that both of you were in disbelief at the accusations against Suguru, and the panic in Satoru's breath only added to the tense atmosphere.

It had been several days since you last had a moment to catch your breath. You had been keeping yourself busy with intensive practice sessions with Shoko.

When Satoru was not away on solo missions, he spent his time with you and Shoko, and you felt a sense of fear and anxiety from him that you might slip away from his grasp, just like his other friend did.

During one of the days you were away with your own agenda, he told you about his last talk with Suguru.

Suguru had shared his ideals with Satoru, explaining what he wanted the world to become. The world to be free of non-sorcerers.

The guilt of finally hearing the reasons for his deflection weighs heavily on your chest. You wonder if there was something you could have done differently to prevent this from happening.

The pain of seeing someone you care about so much become unrecognizable is almost too much to bear.

As you sat beside Satoru, your head leaning on his shoulder, both of you gazed across the field that had once been a haunting reminder of the tragedy that had befallen your school.

The once-bustling space, where you and your classmates used to spend your afternoons, now lay empty and silent, as if frozen in time.

Breaking the silence, you said, "I have talked with my father." Your voice was soft, barely a whisper. "He's scared after what happened to him, and he wants me to drop out of school." You paused for a moment, avoiding the mention of Suguru's name, knowing it would only make you both sad.

Satoru shifted his gaze toward you, jaw tightening, and you could sense nervousness in his demeanor. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

You sat up straight, meeting his eyes, "I will finish my studies here," you replied, "I am an adult now, and I assured him that I have you." You smiled reassuringly at Satoru, sensing his unease beginning to dissipate. His shoulders relaxed, and he gave you a small smile.

"Thank you, doll."

"For what?"

He gently tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear as his gaze lingered on you, a small smile on his lips. "For always being with me," he began, his voice slightly shaky, "I feel like I can't ever live without you. These days, It's as if I'm holding my breath for you." He cupped your cheeks with his hands, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation as he continued speaking.

"If something goes wrong, tell me immediately, okay? I don't care if it's in the middle of the night, if I'm away, or even if I'm sleeping. Just tell me, and we'll work it out together, I promise." he said, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your face, and you could see his lips quivering slightly.

Overwhelmed by his words, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him gently. It was a brief, chaste peck, and you pulled away immediately, unsure of how he would react.

As you peeked at him, you realized that he was flustered, his eyes wide with surprise, and his cheeks and ears tinged with red. You had caught him off guard, but you could see the undeniable adoration in his eyes as he stared at you.

"I love you," his voice barely above a whisper, hands now caressing your hair.

"I love you too, Satoru," you replied, promising yourself that you won't ever lie again, that you loved him.

You felt your heart race as he pulled you in for a tender, slow kiss. He savored every moment, memorizing the feel of your lips, the sweetness of your taste, and the scent he had always found so intoxicating.

He can't stop smiling, can't stop smiling as he feels you kiss him back.

Gojo Satoru's voice carried a firm conviction as he exclaimed, "No. A hundred percent no. I can say that with certainty." Megumi Fushiguro, who had been standing in front of him, took a step back, fear etched on his face.

He shifted his gaze from Satoru to you, seeking confirmation in your eyes. Seeing his distress, you nodded your head in reassurance, reflecting your concern for him. You noticed him clutching his backpack tightly as if seeking comfort from it.

Your boyfriend, Satoru, confided in you about the last wishes of Toji Fushiguro, Megumi's father. Toji had wanted his son to be saved from the clutches of the notorious zenin clan, known for their ruthless ways.

Knowing how dangerous the situation was, you had convinced Satoru to take action and do something about it.

Satoru laughed heartily, his eyes lighting up with joy as he spoke. "Okay! Leave the rest to us then," he said, his voice confident and warm. With a gentle hand, he affectionately ruffled the kid's hair, a big smile on his face.

"But I might need you to push yourself a bit, though. So do your best. Get stronger. Strong enough to keep up with us."

As he stood up, Satoru turned to you, his eyes bright and playful. He gave you a quick wink before grabbing your hands and pulling you up with him. "We'll take care of things first, then we'll come back, Megumi," you reassured the child with a sweet smile, pinching his cheek lightly. You noticed the blush on his face, making you chuckle softly.

You and Satoru began to walk away, he removed his hands from yours, instead placing them on your shoulders. The two of you walked side by side, your steps in perfect sync with each other. You turned your head sideways and saw his soft smile, his skin almost golden as the warm sun shone around him.

"Let's go home, (Y/N)," Satoru said, his voice soft and gentle, giving a quick peck on your forehead.

2nd of January, 2013

As you slowly stirred from your slumber, you felt the warmth of another person's breath tickling your ears. You realized there was an arm wrapped tightly around your waist and a broad chest pressed up against your back.

You felt a pair of large hands, with long, nimble fingers, begin to dance playfully around your bare stomach, sending shivers down your spine. Feeling the safety and comfort, you find yourself relaxing into the moment's warmth.

"You awake, doll?" a groggy voice asked; you feel a light pressure on the back of your neck as he begins to pepper it with delicate butterfly kisses, making you chuckle.

The room was filled with a hazy ambiance, as if the remnants of sleep lingered in the air. The sun had just risen, casting its early morning rays inside the room, revealing the intricate details of the surroundings.

As you turned your body, your eyes met with a familiar face. A smile spread across his face as he looked at you, and you couldn't help but smile back. "Toru,"

You extended your hand and gently cupped his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers.

He turned his head slightly to gently kiss your warm palms. His eyes never left yours, blue eyes looking at you as if you were his whole world, filled with love and adoration, and nothing else mattered but the two of you at that moment.

The silence was broken only by the sound of slow kisses made with each other and slow, measured steps as one person moved towards another.

Bare skin to skin, the intensity of their gaze was such that it seemed as if they were trying to communicate a thousand things with just one look. Each step taken, each breath drawn, was infused with a raw emotion that was impossible to ignore.

Even though no words were being spoken, it was a defining moment; it was clear that actions truly did speak louder than words.

An hour had passed, and you found yourself talking with Satoru as you recounted some recent events that had transpired with your former classmate, who had now become your colleague Shoko. You laughed as you shared some of the amusing and interesting incidents that had occurred between you and Shoko at work.

You and Satoru recently received a well-deserved holiday break from your daily routines in the Jujutsu community.

He chuckles softly; he reaches down to gently shift your head to rest against his chest. His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you close. The soft blanket that you both share is adjusted to ensure that you are both comfortable and snug, cocooned in a cozy embrace.

You playfully pinched the cheek of the man holding you and said, "I think we should head out now before your Mom thinks I've stolen you truly." you smiled, "I'm getting pretty hungry too," you added, hoping to entice him to move along with you.

Satoru responded to the request with a slight nod, "Alright, but can you give me a second? I'll dress first. I need to go to the bathroom." he removes himself to his bed you two share.

"Okay." You replied, admiring his bare back muscles flexed as he picked up his new clothes and made his way towards the bathroom.

You slowly lifted yourself from the bed, and the cozy sheets clung to your skin. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, hoping to pass some time. As you scrolled through your notifications, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening.

You were surprised at how quickly Toru had finished in there. You turn your head in their direction, "That was fast, Toru-"

He approached you with a small box in his hand. Suddenly, he dropped down on one knee, and with trembling hands, he opened the box, revealing a magnificent diamond ring brighter than any jewelry he had ever given you as a present.

The sparkle of the diamond was so intense that it caught your eye and made you gasp in amazement.

You were so taken aback that you dropped your phone, and it clattered to the ground. Your eyes widened with shock, and your hands instinctively flew to your mouth as you gazed into his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Some people might choose to do this with a fancy dinner, or on a yacht under the fireworks, or even on the highest building in the world with all the people they know," he began, his voice quivering with nervousness. "And I can do that too. I'll do that for you, too," he laughed softly,

"But, doll, (Y/N)," he paused, taking a deep breath. " I've chosen this place, right here, because waking up with you every morning is the best thing I have ever experienced in my entire life. The way you smile at me every morning and make me feel loved and wanted is a feeling unlike any other." His voice trailed off as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"And I want to do that every day with you," he continued, his voice gaining strength. "I want to be a constant in your life, partner, friend, and your lover. I want to wake up next to you every morning, until my last breath, as your husband." Tears welled up in his eyes as he uttered the next words.

"Will you marry me?" the words left his lips, and your heart raced with disbelief and joy.

Overwhelmed by emotions, you couldn't hold back the tears as you replied with a breathless "Yes." You launched into his arms, feeling his warm embrace and hearing his comforting words as he slipped the ring on your finger.

You looked at the ring, it sparkled in the light; the moment was perfect, and you could hardly believe it was real.

Satoru's kisses on your face made your heart swell with happiness. You knew you had found your soulmate, and were ready to spend the rest of your life with him.

"I love you so much doll," Satoru whispered, his eyes never leaving your face as you stared at the ring.

"I love you too, Satoru," you replied, your tears still flowing freely. "This is the most magnificent thing I have ever seen."

As you both stepped out of the room, fully freshened up and dressed, you held hands and walked towards the dining room. The aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble.

Entering the room, Satoru's mom was the first to notice the beautiful ring on your finger. She let out a joyful squeal, her hands flying to her chest as her eyes widened in delight. She rushed over to you, enveloping you tightly and congratulating you on finally becoming her daughter. She expressed her happiness and even mentioned that your mom must be beaming with pride in heaven.

Satoru's father was more subdued in his reaction but no less welcoming. He calmly congratulated you, shook your hand, and welcomed you to the family.

The atmosphere was filled with warmth, joy, and love as everyone settled in for a delicious meal together.

The day had been filled with joy and laughter with the Gojo clan. You had spent the entire day with them, chatting, eating, and having fun. But now it was time to say goodbye, albeit temporarily, as you were to join your father for dinner at your own estate.

Satoru's parents bid you farewell, expressing their happiness again for your engagement to their son.

"Ready?" Satoru asked, making sure you were comfortable and adjusting your safety car belt, ensuring it was latched correctly.

"Yes. Kind of nervous though, with our engagement news and all to my father." You tried to lighten the mood by adding a joke and glanced at Satoru, sitting beside you in the driver's seat, looking calm and composed.

"Sweetheart, I'm the one who should be nervous," he replied, laughing, and started driving, his hands on your thighs, holding you and keeping you close,

You reached out to hold his hand, intertwining your fingers together, enjoying the quiet peace and the warmth of each other's presence as the journey to your estate started.

During the dinner with your father, you were utterly taken aback by his calm demeanor. It was as if he already knew what was coming and was prepared for it.

At first, you found it hard to believe that Satoru had already asked your father for permission, but as the evening progressed, everything began to make sense. How your father reacted to Satoru's presence and how he conversed with him made it clear that he was happy with the match.

It was a heartwarming moment for you to see your father happy.

Your father brought up an important topic that had been on his mind for a while. "When you both had children, one should still be appointed as the heir of our clan," he stated, his voice firm and resolute.

You nodded in agreement but added, "Let's cross the bridge once we get there. We're not even married yet, Father."

As the meal progressed, you noticed Satoru stealing glances at you, a small smile on his lips. His eyes were warm and tender, and you can't help but feel your heart flutter.

The dinner ended peacefully, with your father giving you a kiss on your cheeks and patting Satoru's shoulder before retiring to his quarters, bidding you both goodnight. As you were about to walk to your room, you noticed Satoru was not behind you.

You stepped back and saw him gazing at the big portrait of your mother, lost in thought.

"She's a complete replica of you. I can see why you're so beautiful and why your father has cherished you so much," he stated, his voice soft and full of admiration. "Do you think she'll approve of me?" he said, reaching to hold your hand and feel the ring on your finger.

You smiled warmly, feeling a surge of love and affection for him. "I think she'll love you," you uttered emotionally, your heart swelling with joy.

Satoru cupped your cheeks, pressing his lips on your forehead as he whispered, "She does not need to worry. I'll love you, care for you, and protect you with my life."

Going back to your room, your night was spent tenderly, with sweet words lingering in the air between you and Satoru.

The moonlight bore witness as you made love with each other, lost in your own world of passion and intimacy.

Early in the morning, Shoko was sitting at her desk when you walked in to give her the exciting news. She jumped up in surprise and snatched your hand to see your ring. "What?" she exclaimed in surprise, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh my god, (Y/N)!"

With a nervous look on your face, you took a deep breath and said, "I also wanted to ask if you would be okay with being my maid of honor once the wedding date is set." You bit your lower lip apprehensively, fearing she might reject your request. You knew that Shoko was the best person to ask for this important role in your wedding.

"Of course I will," Shoko replied quickly, smiling warmly at you. "I knew this would happen sooner or later, but I'm still in shock. It feels like it was just yesterday when we were all classmates, and I can still remember teasing you about your feelings back then." She laughed, pulling you into a tight embrace.

You reciprocated the hug, feeling grateful to have such a supportive friend. You joked, "I lied back then because I was still afraid, but now I think I'm much braver than before."

The two of you marveled at the expensive-looking engagement ring, with Shoko estimating its cost and joking that Satoru could buy thousands if you wanted to.

The news of your engagement quickly spread throughout the sorcery community, replacing your previous reputation as the woman who brought Gojo Satoru back to life; You were now known as the most powerful woman, the head of the (L/N) clan, and the next female head of the Gojo clan - soon to be Gojo Satoru's wife.

BONUS:

15th of August, 2018

You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly to the music playing in the background. The aroma of the spices and herbs fills the air as you chop the vegetables for tonight's dinner.

A small smile adorns your lips as you hear the servants of your home offer to do the chopping instead. "No, thank you. I find myself enjoying these lately," you politely decline.

The servants bow to you in return, watching in admiration, their eyes fixed on the elegant and glowing woman in front of them, the head wife of the Gojo clan.

As you continue your tasks, your phone rings, breaking your concentration. You wipe your hands on the tablecloth and answer the phone.

"How's my pretty wife doing, hm?" Satoru's voice greets you from the other end of the line.

"I'm doing well," you reply, looking back at the pot and stirring its contents. "I'm cooking our favorite dish. It's almost done, honey."

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Satoru's voice inquires with concern. "You just got off from work. If you're going to do the cooking instead of letting the helpers do it, why don't you quit your job for now and just wait for me every day with your pretty little face?"

"That's not going to happen, Gojo Satoru," your tone was stern and resolute. You continued by confessing, "I hate doing nothing. Simple things like cooking make me happy." He could hear the passion in your voice as you spoke about your newfound love for cooking.

On the other end of the line, he sighed deeply, realizing he couldn't argue with you. He knew that you were a determined and independent person and that it was hard to change once you set your mind on something.

Imagining your pouty lips, pleading eyes, and even a soft, simple "please" from you would make his knees buckle in defeat. He, the strongest sorcerer, was no match for you.

"And also, I wanted to give you a heads up that Megumi will be joining us for dinner tonight," he said, pausing a moment before adding, "Oh, and a new student of mine, too, if that's alright with you."

"Of course it's okay," you replied with a smile, "I appreciate you telling me beforehand so I can prepare. Do you remember the last time you brought Maki, Panda, Yuuta, and Megumi all at once? I was caught off guard and unprepared."

"I remember. Especially how you didn't kiss me for a whole day afterward because you were so upset." Satoru laughed, adding, "We'll be there soon. Love you ~ "

As the call ended, you turned to one of the servants standing nearby, ready to assist you at a moment's notice.

"Hana, please prepare some guest rooms for tonight," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. "We might need them later for our visitors. Thank you." You patted her shoulder, seeing her nod, before she turned around to follow your orders.

After your engagement, the wedding came soon after, taking place a few months later. You and Satoru had decided to have a simple ceremony with only the most important people in your lives present. You wanted to honor the traditions of the Gojo clan that had fascinated you since you first met Satoru.

Following your honeymoon, you were named the new head wife of the Gojo clan. Satoru's parents had decided to move out, passing on the responsibility of running the family estate to you and your husband. This was a significant moment for you both, as it was a tradition that had been passed down through generations.

The other servants had kindly taken care of wrapping up your cooking and set the table for dinner. You stood in the kitchen, washing your hands; you couldn't help but feel satisfied with your small accomplishment.

Lost in thought, you suddenly felt a pair of soft hands tenderly caressing your stomach, a body pressing up against your back, and nose slowly breathing in the scent of your neck. The unexpected touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you quickly recognize the familiar touch of your husband.

As you turned around, you saw your husband's warm smile that lit up his face. He quickly bent down to one knee and nuzzled his face into your stomach, murmuring, "I missed the both of you." You laughed at his affectionate gesture as you lovingly caressed his hair in response.

"I'm not sure they can hear you yet, love," you conveyed with a gentle smile. "I'm just barely two months pregnant, 'Toru."

Your husband looked up at you with a pout on his face, making you giggle like a teenager. He then stood up, took your face in his hands, and pressed soft kisses to your forehead, nose, and lips. The warmth of his embrace and his scent enveloped you completely.

He then turned to you and said, "Hi, my wife," looking at your face with a loving gaze, as if he was seeing you for the hundredth time but still couldn't get enough of you.

You both heard voices from the dining room, and your husband took your hand, pulling you and leading you toward the two students you had been expecting.

As you entered the room, a pink-haired boy with a curious look on his face muttered, "Wow, it's so big here, Fushiguro," his eyes scanned the delicate features around the room in amazement.

"(Y/N)-san," Megumi noticed you first and walked towards you with a small smile. You embraced him, feeling happy to see him doing well, patting his back and giving him a quick peck on the cheek before letting go. "How are you, Megumi?" you asked him.

"I'm doing well, thank you, for all that food you sent to the dorms, too," he replied, his cheeks turning slightly red at your affection.

As you stood there, your husband caressed your hair and introduced you to the other student. "Yuji, this is my wife (Y/N)," he said, turning towards the boy staring at you in awe, his mouth slightly apart.

"Itadori Yuji, nice to meet you," he said, bowing profoundly and complimenting you on your beauty that made you and your husband laugh.

"Nice to meet you too, Yuji. Let's go eat now, shall we?" you said softly, patting his shoulders as you led him to one of the dinner chairs.

The dinner was filled with laughter and stories as you all caught up with each other. You felt happy to see Megumi and Yuji bonding so well, as they were a perfect mix. You also learned about Nobara, another student you wanted to meet soon. As supper ended, every one commended your cooking, and you suggested that the two students stay for the night, offering rooms that were ready for them. They agreed happily.

As you both retired to your quarters, your husband's face was pressed up against your stomach, his hands caressing your hips as he mumbled sweet nothings to your unborn child.

You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling at the sight of the strongest sorcerer alive baby-talking to your pregnant stomach.

"I love you, (Y/N)," your husband said, his voice filled with love and affection.

Note: Aaaaaaand, I'm done with my first ever fic! Writing this had been my comfort. Crying when I realized reader will be 3-4 months pregnant during the Shibuya incident (I might write about it too wink wink)

Thank you, I'm planning to upload a new fic next week.

Love, Aurora.

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crazybth · 4 months ago

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JJK Fic Idea

SI OC - King of Curses Itadori Jin

Even after he realizes who he is reincarnated to, it’s never too late. Itadori Jin regained his past life memories and knowledge of this world in one of the famous manga he used to read. He is already married and has a child. He shuddered by his wife who had a stitch mark on her forehead. He managed to survive the car accident and escape from Kenny. Jin thought that was all and took his heart and soul to watch over his precious son along with his dad. He now commits to being a secret overprotective helicopter dad just to make sure his Yuuji never gets near the dish soap fingers and the white paintbrush head man. It all seems fine until it’s not.

Like Gege didn’t want happiness or faith to need the same outcome despite taking a different part. To the king of curse to live on and walk on earth once again.

He almost forgot who Itadori Jin truly is.

It is him swallowing Sukuna’s finger instead.

When two were a half once split. One became two and now two becomes one once again.

But once a father, always a father. He will protect his child, even from himself.

—————————

SUMMARY:

SI OC is reborn as Itadori Jin. He survived until the canon and successfully raised Yuuji without dying himself. Deemed to protect him from the cruel cursed world, instead, he takes Yuuji’s place by being the one to eat Sukuna’s finger. His soul merged with Sukuna and gained his powers, and unfortunately, his memories. He followed Yuuji into the world of sorcerers. While others believe he exorcised the king of curses by eating his fingers and Sukuna never awake in the modern world, he also tried to fool himself and deny what was left of the calamity imprinted on his soul. And of course, the title of the king.

P.S. I wonder why there are not many talking about him that much. I mean, he is Sukuna's twin reincarnate and technically his other half. So I came up with what if Jin is alive, being the one who eats fingers instead and they merged. And with SI Oc shenanigans with canon knowledge. Chaos insured. Twin becomes one once again and The Dad king would not let anyone touch his kid.

Just my concept story for now and might add more in the future

Thanks @overly-verbose I got major inspiration from you 😆

#drawing #fanart #art #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fic #jjk fanart #doodle #itadori jin #king of curses Itadori Jin #SI #si oc #SIJin #fix it fic

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oh-katsuki · 2 years ago

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cw: jjk manga spoilers, fluff

satoru bounces a baby on his knee. his baby. he holds her under the arms, smiling down at the precious girl as she giggles incoherently each time his heel finds contact with the floor again. you can see where his hands meet your child’s under arms, holding her steady as he takes her from knee to knee.

you don’t think satoru knows you’re watching. it’s not because of anything in particular that he’s doing, but you don’t think he’s realized yet that you’re looking. satoru’s smiling like there’s no one else in the world. his grin shakes slightly with his nerves, like he’ll never quite get used to being a father. his eyebrows, knit together in the center with his adoration and his worries, betray an unfamiliar sense of parental nerves, like satoru can’t quite comprehend how he could love something so little as much as he does.

you can hear him talk in a low voice to his daughter as she steadily grows sleepier. she’s tuckered out, tired from giggling so much and the cry she had earlier about something that startled her. satoru though, continues to mumble in a quite voice as he leans her forward and places her head on his chest.

he sits back in the chair so that she’ll be more comfortable, mumbling while the precious little thing dozes off against him. you can’t make out what he’s saying, but you can briefly see the way his lips form around the word for love and then, the way they form repeatedly around the name of your daughter. it looks like he’s repeating it, just saying it softly to her as she’s lulled into a sleepy babble by the rise and fall of his chest.

it’s interesting to see satoru like this, so gentle with affection. satoru, as a person, is deceptively confident but there’s an incredible and unavoidable vulnerability in venturing into parenthood for the first time together. despite that, despite the vulnerability that you know he struggles with, he’s been so good about it. satoru takes the initiative when you seem too exhausted to get up from bed in the dead of night, lulling your child to sleep with hushed whispers or little hums. he steels his nerves when you feel your yours might crush you. still, this vulnerability is both foreign and special.

“hey,” you walk up to him, “she get sleepy?”

satoru nods a little, briefly glancing up at you and then back down to the face of his daughter, whose little mouth has fallen open.

“look,” he whispers, pulling you by the wrist around to the other side of the chair and having your crouch in front of your daughter’s face. “she’s drooling.”

he says it with so much awe that you’d think he said she was glowing.

you tilt your head and see that he’s right. at the corner of your child’s mouth, a small sheen of spit begins to seep into satoru’s t-shirt. you find yourself laughing, looking fondly at the little mess she’s creating.

she looks like her dad. it’s undeniable. though she has your hair and eye color, your daughter’s features are so like her father’s. her eyes are the same shape and her nose, though slightly upturned with how little she is, is his. you can see him in her. even in sleep, her expression is much like satoru’s. even her personality, which has begun to shine through the senseless baby babbling, reminds you of satoru and you can only imagine the trouble they’ll get into when she’s old enough to walk and talk. in your head, you apologize to nanami for duplicating satoru into female form. though you’re sure that wherever he’s watching from, he’s forgiven you both.

“haha, gross,” satoru adds, his chest jostling the baby who is now dead to the world.

“satoru,” you chide, furrowing your brows at him.

he only turns to you and shrugs a little bit, his cheeks pink with a flush like he’s just realized again that he’s a dad and that this child is half of him. you smile at him a little, reaching up to touch the soft hair at your daughter’s temple. she’s so little. she is so small that you find yourself aching and it seems that satoru feels it too, taking a shaky breath in and then exhaling.

---

the windows in the car are down. suguru is driving, shoko is in the front seat. the music from the front comes blaring through the speakers, making its way in steady pulses to the back of the car where you and satoru sit. you can’t hear what shoko and suguru are saying and they can’t hear what you and satoru or saying.

you can feel the steady whip of the wind on your face as suguru speeds down the near empty highway and into a tunnel lit with glowing yellow-orange lights. the sound of it changes when you go in, air taking on a hollow tone that feels thick against the inside of your ears. it thunders, threatening to drown out the music in a sound you attribute solely to nights like these.

you don’t particularly know where suguru is driving to. he’s just driving and the three of you are happy to tag along.

you stick your head out of the car window, feeling the way your hair shifts across your forehead and smiling into the push of air against your cheeks. in the sideview mirror, you can see suguru, whose face lights up with a content smile as he spots you in it.

satoru is beside you, his black sunglasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose and his arm positioned out of the car window beside him. his hand rests evenly across your thigh, possessive and present.

this memory is a precious one. before suguru defected, before satoru met toji fushiguro. you and satoru were both more finicky back then, afraid of the commitment that comes with being in love but too prideful to give up entirely on the feelings you had for each other.

satoru leans over toward the middle seat and the motion beckons you closer. you pull your head from the window, leaning in as well to hear what he’s saying over the sound of the air rushing past the car windows and the music.

“do you-” a rush of air steals the middle of the sound. “-ids?”

“huh?” you call, leaning in closer and scrunching your face up.

“i asked if you think you’ll ever have kids,” satoru clarifies, calling a little louder so that you can hear.

you jerk your head to look at him, furrowing your eyebrows. he looks oddly inquisitive, like the energy of the night as brought out some hidden vulnerability in him.

“the hell are you asking me that right now for?” you laugh a little.

satoru shrugs, leaning close by your ear.

“i’m just wondering,” he smiles a little, lopsided and dangerously confident in the way satoru was then, like he’s wearing a mask.

you think on it for a moment before shaking your head. “i don’t know! probably not! depends if i live that long, i guess.”

you laugh off the bleakness of the statement and satoru nods, rolling his eyes. you see the flash of blue as he does over the rim of his glasses and jostle him a little with your arm in response.

he starts to lean back towards the window, but you catch him before he can.

“what about you?”

satoru looks at you for a moment, his face unreadable. you can see his eyes over the rim of his glasses, turning over the possibility and responsibility of children. he thinks on it, before his lips quirk up into a little smile. whatever expression of thought he wore before fades away as it shifts into one of smooth confidence.

“nah,” he breathes, sinking deeper into the seat and tilting his head up, “never.”

then, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, turning his head to look back of the window again. satoru’s fingers interlace with yours and he offers them one little squeeze without turning to look at you. briefly, you wonder about what he’s thinking in the seat beside you. you wonder if he’s thinking about the future, about one with you, despite his reluctance to admit real feelings for you at this point.

you turn away, still gripping his hand, back toward the air whipping past the car window. you feel it on your forehead and on your arms, raising goosebumps. the music, blares from the speakers, flooding the back from the front seat of the car where shoko and suguru sit oblivious. the world in the front of the car is separate from the one in the back. for now, you and satoru exist in a bubble. maybe you always have.

---

“she’s so beautiful,” he mutter, running his finger down the bridge of her little nose.

“she looks like you,” you say softly, crouching beside him.

satoru turns to you, eyebrows raised like he’s shocked to hear it.

“you think?”

“mhm,” you hum, nodding your head a little.

satoru’s face flushes and you see the way his chest catches a little as he looks back down at the baby perched on his chest. then, she rouses, woken up but the disruption in satoru’s breathing.

she blinks sleep away, bleary and tired, and satoru immediately croons at her. he tilts his head gently as she rolls hers over his chest to look at him, leaving behind the little wet spot where she’d previously been drooling.

she hasn’t been asleep long, only a few minutes, and you suspect from her face that she’ll go back to sleep soon, maybe in 20 minutes and probably in the same position she was in before.

satoru reaches up to touch the wisps of hair by her ear.

“hey,” he says lightly, “you drool when you sleep, did you know?”

your daughter just blinks at him, listening to his voice but not registering what he’s said. she babbles sleepily and turns to look at you, peering at you with satoru’s eyes had he not been born with the six eyes.

“do you want to go to bed?” he asks her, shifting his arm under her to stand up from the loveseat he’s in, “i bet you do, let’s go to bed.”

you watch as he gathers her into his arms and lets her little head rest on his collarbone. satoru mumbles to her the entire walk to her room, saying little things without much meaning as the child begins to doze off again on his shoulder.

you watch him walk away, smiling when he tosses you an elated but slightly nervous expression that he’s been wearing often lately.

his soft voice recedes and you think briefly about his answer in the car that night when the music was playing loud and the air against the car windows thundered as you sped through the tunnel. it’s hard to believe that you are the same people you were then. it’s hard to have thought to guess where you’d end up or who you would both become. the things about you that never changed and the things that could have never stayed the same. still, you think about his answer then—a lie now—and thank the universe for the afterglow.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #implied jjk manga spoilers #i LIED THERE ARE SOME MANGA SPOILERS HERE LOL #so if you'd rather not risk it... don't read #anyway i think i have baby fever ;(#i love him SO BAD #ill not be rereading this #sorry if there are typos or anything LOL #[ 📕 – writing ]#jjk manga spoilers

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 5 months ago

Note

JJK x MHA

Eri ended up in a timeline where Getō did not go completely off the deep end and remain at Jujutsu High later, becoming a teacher still adopting his two daughters though and now a third with the inclusion of Eri because she would fit right in with all the trauma she has also

-Never in his mind did Geto ever think he would adopt three daughters, a pair of twins and a little child with a small horn on her head, who had the unusual ability of rewinding things.

-Gojo was relentless with his teasing as Geto arrived at school, being a teacher alongside his gremlin of a friend, “I always knew you would be a ladies’ man- but I never thought it would be with daughters!!”

-His two older daughters, Mimiko and Nanako, were students alongside Megumi, Nobara, and Itadori, and little you he had to bring along, to keep you safe and keep you from getting lonely.

-You were a little angel and all the students, even the older students, all adored you. Panda was especially fond of you, as you always shared your snacks with him, and Panda always loved to cuddle you.

-Geto was protective of his precious students and his children, almost fiercely so. He was a lot like Gojo at times, laid back and goofy, but if anyone threatened the students or his children, he never held back.

-Nanako swung out her leg at Gojo, “Stop picking on Geto!” but Gojo easily blocked it, grinning warmly down at her, “Nice to see you so energetic this morning!”

-He ruffled the twin’s hair, something Nanako tried to swat at his hands before pulling out her phone to fix her hair, “I swear to God you better-” Geto reached out, putting a hand over his feisty daughter’s mouth, pulling her with him, “Get to class, all of you.”

-Gojo just cackled, before he saw you peeking out from your bunny hoodie, that helped hide your horn and he beamed, rushing towards you and snatching from Geto’s arms, “And how is my favorite little adorable Y/N today?”

-You giggled sweetly as he spun around, holding you at arm’s length while Mimiko began to panic, worrying that he was going to drop you while Nanako rushed to get you back.

-Geto rubbed his temples, it was too early for things to be this loud just yet, but he knew that you were in safe hands, as he did trust Gojo, despite the white-haired man being annoying!

-When the group arrived in the classroom where the second and first years were all meeting, Nobara immediately beamed, “Y/N!” you smiled, holding out your arms to go into her arms, but Gojo turned, pouting comically, “Nuh-uh- I’m not sharing my Y/N!”

-There was a lot of shouting and shenanigans, and you wound up in Itadori’s arms as they played keep away from Gojo and you beamed, hugging him tightly, “Big brother Yuji!” he beamed, a light shining down upon him, as he was the only one, besides your big sisters, that had a title like that, but that didn’t stop any of the others, especially Nobara, from trying.

-When the lesson got started, everyone heading outside, you sat on your papa’s lap as Gojo was the one leading the lesson today.

-Geto had his hands clasped in front of you, playing with you as you were trying to get out, wanting to go look at the nearby flowers, but he told you, “Pull my hands apart and you can go.”

-He was being a gremlin, not wanting to let you go, moving his hands, squeezing you close which made you squeal in laughter, or putting his hands out to where you couldn’t reach.

-You were pouting, trying to grab at his hands, “Papa~~!!” he just chuckled as you flopped back into his stomach, pouting lightly before he hugged you close, which made you smile softly, “Wait for lunch and you can go play.”

-You looked up at him, a bright smile, “Really? Thank you, papa!” He couldn’t help but hug you close again. He never realized the happiness being a father would bring him, even if it is causing him some headaches here and there.

-He wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

#eri reader #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #yuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 months ago

Text

dire v, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: The battle.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, this chapter contains blood, violence, and mutilation, world-building, the Dire = wolf people, species discrimination / prejudice, extended hospital stay; no smut for obvious reasons; non-idol!AU - werewolfAU / soulmates; werewolf!reader x blond, human!Jungkook; switches between JK’s POV, your POV, and the Dire Alpha’s POV (your dad), ft bodyguard!Kim Mingyu (from Seventeen, yes, I chose him bc of his build and his friendship with real life JK)

inspired by YOASOBI - 怪物 (Kaibutsu)

part iv

The Dire Alpha did not hesitate.

Once again, his world was falling apart in front of his eyes, but he had to be a leader, a father, a husband before he could be himself. For his people. For his daughter lost in a blinding, berserk rage. His precious pup was now the spitting image of his beautiful wife. For his silver wolf, his mate, his promised one love that he could never get back because many, many years ago he was forced to crush his wife’s throat with his own hands.

He had never cried so much in his life as he did during that one act.

That night long ago, the Alpha’s mate had attended a dinner party with the human Prime Minister, his wife, and prominent members of the Parliament. He was still haunted by those memories. Her darling smile. The gentle kiss on their daughter’s forehead before she kissed him deeply, promising them both that she would be home soon. He hadn’t wanted to go. He wondered every day if that would have made things different or if that choice would have rendered his child parentless. He wondered every day if he should have forced his wife to stay home and entertain their pup with playfighting or racing through the woods while he sourly tried his best to face diplomacy. But she was the kind, wise one that wanted to make peace with the humans. He had not hated them then, merely found them to be boring, but after that night, he loathed their existence. Loathed them so much that he vowed to stay in his wolf form rather than mirror their appearance.

A human had poisoned his wife.

Forced her into a senseless, rage-blinded, uncontrollable wolf transformation. She had killed the wife and a few Parliament members. Severely injured everyone else, including the Prime Minister and several police officers. Civilians standing in her rampaging path stood no chance. The monster had torn through the city and then through the woods, murdering his own people too, and he had run, run on all fours after ordering his panicked pup to imprison herself in the castle, skidding to a stop as he saw the pools of dark red blood that soaked into the earth.

His beautiful wife, so far gone that he could not get her back.

He fought.

He bled.

He howled, and the monster did not relent, not until his claws pierced the windpipe and blood poured into a ravaged throat.

He could not forget her eyes, fading as she recognized him ending her life.

She loved him until the end.

He saw it and he wept as he did it.

The humans had called it the Berserker event. A trembling scientist had explained it to him afterwards. A human posing as a chef had crafted a synthetic poison that they marinated the raw meat in. His wife was the only Dire present. It was a crime between human culprits and a Dire victim, but the Alpha insisted to be the judge in this case. He used everything within his power have the perpetrators turned over to him. The humans had relented, rightfully fearful of his uncontained vengeance. Everyone knew what would happen. He had killed the human and all his backers, making sure to make each of them suffer with his own hands. The records and research were destroyed with the agreement of both sides, and he had demanded the terrified human government to ban all future studies towards such things, commanding them to devise a harsh, detailed law so that this would never happen again.

Never, he was promised.

The humans disliked his attitude. To this day, he was sure they still spoke ill of him behind closed doors. The Alpha detested them in return. He watched his daughter grow up without a mother. He watched her question the world and their place in it. He taught her as he believed his wife would want to teach her, but couldn’t, all because of a group of hateful, conniving humans. He watched her fall in love with a human and thought, maybe.

Maybe it was time to put aside his personal biases for all he had left.

And now his flesh tore as his own daughter bit into his shoulder, forcing him to plant his fist into her lower ribs. Her body snapped, jaw instantly letting go with a hiss, paws skidding across the stones on drawn claws. Blood soaked into his black fur. Red painted over her bared fangs. Pain stabbed throughout him. It was nothing compared to the hole in his heart.

The Alpha crouched, ready to defend once more.

The silver wolf roared, only seeing him as enemy, and launched int the air once more.

He had no time to deduce whether this was vengeance directed at him or specifically targeting his daughter. It did not matter. She charged. He parried, and the silver wolf slammed into the ground ungracefully, immediately springing back up to attack again. Her jaws snapped in the air. He swung his left leg back and used the momentum to slam the heel of his palm into her chin. It should have immediately disoriented a sane fighter, but instead her head snapped back, throwing her body backward into a snarling tumble, before digging her back paws into the stones and swiping at his lower right side.

He grimaced as he felt claws slice into muscle.

He twisted, freeing himself with a labored grimace, and pivoted, sinking his teeth into her right calf flying past him.

His child’s howl of pain was worse than any open wound.

He unlocked his jaw and shoved with all his might, tossing her body into the wall.

A sickening crack impaled the frightened night.

The Berserker rose, growling, hollow gold coins for eyes.

The Alpha had no time to speak, but he prayed to the moon that she could feel his conviction. They locked claws, gashing teeth, rolling into the steps of the throne room, making them both howl in pain. He fought. The monster fought back, twice as savage, but the Alpha knew he was not alone. She was in there, somewhere trapped in the raging abyss, and as long as he believed that, as a parent, he could not give up.

He knew his daughter was in there, desperately trying to cage the beast.

The blood on her fur was only hers and his.

He managed to drive his knee into her underbelly and the silver wolf doubled over, spitting red blood onto his black fur. Her arm shot out and claws tore into his upper arm to bloody ribbons. He struck her again, at the temple, and the monster yelped, collapsing onto stone.

Rising.

The big black wolf exhaled, tasing iron.

He barked and threw himself at the Berserker.

The gold coins of her eyes were dulling in the center. From pain or recognition, he didn’t know. He struck her again, and again, blooming red over that lovely silver fur tipped in black, the obvious fusion of his genes and her mother’s, and the Alpha felt tears sting his eyes.

I know you are in there, Daughter. You must fight. You must win.

A suspended second of hesitation in those gold eyes poisoned with rage.

I cannot lose you, too.

The Alpha gasped as he felt claws bury into his other upper arm.

The harrowing sound of tearing muscle.

He fell to one knee, wrenching himself free with a savage roar.

She had come directly to him. To him., not to rampaging throughout the city, not to the homes throughout the forest. Between the origin point of this Berserker and the stone castle of the Dire Alpha, there had been thousands of beating hearts available to bleed. Thousands of bodies that could have been ripped limb from limb, but were not, all because the Berserker had a single, unrelenting goal to battle him first.

No.

Not the Berserker.

His daughter.

He had to believe.

He drew back his fist and punched his daughter right in the collarbone, hearing a despairing snap, sending her flying once more, desperately howling as fiery pain shot through his arm and chest. The edges of his vision flashed with spots of black.

Silver fur matted dark with red blood began to rise once more. Every breath stung. He was quite sure a few of his ribs were broken. He was not certain if he was able to stand on both legs anymore. He was not even certain if he could raise either of his mutilated arms, yet he would fight with only his swinging head and snapping teeth if that was all that was left of him. A chunk of her right calf was limp on the floor by their battered bodies.

The Alpha raised his head and howled to the moon.

The silver wolf by the wall whimpered, cowering under the tyrant’s call.

Her name called by a panicked, breathless voice.

A human voice.

He smelled the boy through the thick stench of blood.

The monster snarled, snapping its teeth to the intruder. The pain was so intense that his body was beginning to feel numb. The Alpha hunched, coughing up blood. The human was behind him, standing in the mauled doorway of the throne room. The big black wolf did not know how the boy got here, and he did not care.

“She cannot hear you,” he grunted, every word burning his lungs. “Back off, or you will die.”

“S-Sir–”

Even in this state, he rejected the disrespect. “I am the Alpha,” he boomed, his thundering voice radiating off the walls, dragging his arms that felt heavier than lead, curling his claws into fists by his sides. “I am the leader of this Dire pack, I am her father, and you will address me with the title of our customs if you wish to keep your head.”

His broken body was in no place to enforce such threats, but he was too proud a wolf to back down.

For his part, the boy actually listened.

“U-Understood, Alpha.”

The black wolf turned his massive head with effort, baring the half of his teeth that he could.

He was a young man. Dark hair bleached blond now in wild, windswept tresses. Round, startled brown eyes stricken with worry. The black silk dress shirt he was wearing reeked of sweat. The Alpha could smell the exertion and strain of his muscles. He must have run miles. The front gate was normally locked, but perhaps a terrified servant had let him in. Or someone from his human security patrol.

The black spots at the edges of his vision were staying longer and longer. It didn’t matter. Time was running out.

“Please leave,” the Alpha wearily commanded.

The Berserker dragged its claws along the ground, slowly turning its body towards the human. It could no longer walk, but it could crawl with excoriating huffs of agony.

Her mate did not move.

“I hope you can understand that I can’t,” the human choked out, bright eyes glassy with tears.

Before the Alpha could muster the strength to shout, the monster spoke.

“… Fa… Father…”

The fur at of the nape of his neck raised. Chills stung along his aching spine.

Despite his best efforts, his heavy voice broke.

“Yes, Daughter?”

Each breath rattled like decaying leaves crumbling to dust.

“If… If I… no longer remain…”

The glaring gold eyes were dulling and brightening like flickering light bulbs. The monster flopped, convulsing as if electrocuted, one of the front paws swiping the air. It must have happened very quickly, but time became a cruel mistress with a boning knife and no anesthetic, imprinting the torn image into memory. The putrid stench of blood. The horrible sound of claws defiled by stone as his daughter continued to drag the broken body against its will.

“Re… main… t… true…”

Every cell in his body screamed in despair. Out of all things.

He truly was a disappointment as a father.

“If you do not remain true to yourself, you no longer serve your purpose,” he breathed out, ashamed.

The Berserker roared, hurling the broken body of his beloved daughter towards the human. The black wolf clenched his jaw and pressed his knee into the stone, so hard he sliced it open, throwing the entirety of his weight towards his head, aiming for the other blood-soaked wolf, and he toppled to the floor, his torn-up body refusing to obey to his command. He saw the flash of gold before he hit the ground in a wildfire of acute pain, right onto one of his shredded arms.

The sound of grinding bone.

Freely bleeding, gaping cuts on skin.

Jeon Jungkook raced forward, catching the battered, human body of his mate. She looked up at him, the gold in her eyes fading, morphing a dull, unfocused emptiness. Her face was torn up. Her body was torn flesh and darkening bruises. Her skin was rapidly losing color. Scarlet red blood soaked into his clothes.

“H… Hey… Jungkook…?”

He sank to the floor, vision blurring as tears blinded him. Her body was so, so heavy, but Jungkook held on desperately, unable to let go.

“I… I won…”

A hollow gasp shook against the stone.

He raised his head to see the bloodied body of a large, muscular, older man with pale skin and long, sweeping black hair drenched in red. His pointed black ears were saturated in blood. His haggard face was etched with deep scars along with the fresh gashes. His once built arms were clumps of pulverized meat at best. His eyes still shone gold, but a true pearlescent tone, similar to the rays of the moonlight.

“Pup…”

Behind him, he heard sirens and the trampling of footsteps racing towards them.

The dying man sprawled onto the floor remained regal, making eye contact with Jungkook as he spoke.

“Take care of my daughter, will you?”

The nation held their breath, human and Dire combined.

Everything hurt.

Everything hurt so fucking bad.

Before your vision blurred once more, you spotted a clump of greasy ash blond hair by your left side.

Every day afterward was difficult.

He hated this form. It was demeaning. Despite that, he was well aware that it was much easier for medical staff to treat him in this form. He was still hulking and unnaturally heavy but still lighter than his wolf form. His weight did not become his problem until physical therapy began. Fuck. A member of his human security guard, Kim Mingyu, worked as his liaison between medical staff. His tall and heavily built frame made him one of the few humans that didn’t look comically small next to him. And, thankfully, he did not waste nor mince words. He was also usefully distractedly handsome, causing all of the nurses do a double take before gasping behind their hands at the towering form straining the hospital bed for all its worth. Mingyu was young, but authoritative enough. And, for some reason, the young man physically aided the nurses without being asked.

Very strange.

He didn’t dwell on it.

The blessing of the moon resulted in an accelerated recovery, but his arms had almost been shredded by the battle. He did not ask for more. Instead, he silently seethed under a blank mask of indifference. He once caught a nurse attempting to touch one of his pointed black ears. He shot her a look and she threw herself out of the room, muttering apologies. Physical therapy was not better. The male therapist was too transfixed by his black bushy tail. He thought about requesting another one, but at this point he resolved to simply regain his strength once more so he could get out of these sterile walls.

It was Mingyu who had bought the boy to the castle.

“I sincerely apologize. When I arrived on the scene, I was assigned to restrain him. He was very emotional. He broke free and attempted to carjack the vehicle I arrived in. I advised him to stay back. He threatened to break my window. It was a hasty decision on my part. I tried to make the best judgement I could, Alpha.”

His only response was an impassive grunt.

“I appreciate your generous understanding.”

He didn’t. However, he could not deny that the kid had guts. He could also not deny that their arrival was quite timely. A stroke of luck despite the circumstances. Mingyu had told him his name. The Alpha knew it now.

He just didn’t care.

He could not strangle him for laying hands on his daughter with the current state of his arms.

A task for a later time, then.

The Alpha had one request, and that was for his sleeping daughter to be placed in the room next to his.

When he was alone, he was no longer able to hide behind his misplaced anger.

When he was alone, he silently wept. Looking to the moon for guidance. Praying for her mother to forgive him for what he had done to their daughter. His silver wolf was not here, because of him. His daughter was fighting for her life in her sleep, because of him. He was a failure to the two he loved most. His body was in so much pain and it was nothing compared to the thought of knowing very well that he might come out of this alone. He worked to make his body stronger, and yet.

What was his worth as a leader if he failed as a husband and a father too?

In nightmares, you fought.

You fought your inner wolf. You fought until you bled, until the sound of broken bones, until your entwined souls howled in suffering, until memories were nothing but rivers and rivers of blood. Blood, and night. Endless darkness threatened to swallow you. You fought against that too, swimming against a reckless tide, chasing flashes of blinding fluorescent light. Sounds were muffled and distorted in this void. You swore you could hear something, but you didn’t know what they meant. Soft cries by your bedside. Words. A voice called your name, but every time you reached out to it, it slipped between your fingertips like disintegrating petals that disappeared into blackness.

Above you, a silver wolf hovered, scolding you that it was not yet your time.

An unnatural silence.

Screams of pain.

Someone was holding you, moving your limbs. Lifting your body. Fleeting whispers, hoping for no bed sores. The darkness swallowed you up again. You struggled through the sluggish murk without knowing why. It weighed down on you. A shaking breath pierced your lungs, but something foreign and plastic was shoved down your throat. You drowned again. This time, brutish claws gripped around your forearm and pulled you up.

A silver wolf.

No.

A silver wolf with black-tipped fur and a crescent moon-shaped pattern of white on its back.

The wolf stared at you, standing on a pool of black water.

You stared back, unsure what to say. Opened your mouth. Not a word came out.

The wolf lowered onto her hunches, preparing to strike.

Your purpose.

If you do not remain true to yourself, you no longer serve your purpose.

Your purpose. Not a demand pushed onto you by the elders. Not an accusation from the frightened. Not a direct order from the big black wolf. No. The big black wolf stood by you despite disapproving of your lofty ideals and silly dreams. You learned the world could not, no, should not be molded to your liking as you observed the humans.

Then, what was your purpose?

One percent.

To make this shared world a place worth living, one percent at a time.

You couldn’t change it all. Yet one percent seemed so attainable. If, somehow, you convince a few to work towards making this world one percent better, then maybe they could convince a few on their own. It was hopeless, perhaps. The silver wolf growled. Hopeless didn’t mean impossible. At least one person believed in you. Soft, ash blond hair. An encouraging smile with big white teeth. Dark brown eyes that crinkled every time he laughed, wrapping his strong arms around you.

You opened your eyes.

The bright fluorescent light stabbed your retinas.

You squinted, highly displeased.

Your vision slowly unblurred. An unknown intuition told you that you were mostly in one piece. You couldn’t quite feel it yet. Your limbs were that of a blown-over scarecrow. There was a blanket above your shivering body. And paper. Papers, plural. You squinted harder, trying to make sense of the characters. They were printed-out news articles. Many of them, scattered over you. And a clump of ash blond hair connected to hunched shoulders. A pallid, tattooed hand loosely over one of your rather thin ones. It must have been your hand, because it was clearly attached to your body, but your mind was having trouble connecting the dots. You tried to breathe and half-choked on a plastic tube jammed down your throat.

You wheezed.

Jeon Jungkook shot off the hospital bed.

You clearly read one of the headlines of the articles on the bed. It was dated years and years ago. A rising pins-and-needles sensation was beginning to ravage your half-awake body. You heard clattering and the faraway noise of nurses rushing into the room, rapidly speaking to each other, but all you could feel was a deep, deep sadness.

Your eyes raised.

You could not tap your heart twice, so you imagined the motion, remembering the arrowhead pendant your father wore around his neck, and looked to the moon, asking for its guidance, hoping she could forgive you for what you had done. You wanted to cry, but your tear ducts had not been in use for so long that nothing came out.

Thankfully, someone had the decency to let you know you had not killed your father.

Jeon Jungkook stood by a bowing hospital bed that was struggling to contain the hulking mass of a man still heavily bandaged with various tubes hanging out of him. Despite his appearance, the black-haired man was alert and breathing for himself. He had piercing, pearly gold eyes, big hands covered in scars, and an expression that could kill all lesser creatures.

At the moment, Jungkook was feeling like a lesser creature.

He had done nothing for endless days but go to work and then immediately come to the hospital to lay by her beside. Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung did their best to bring him food, changes in clothing, and even ask to change shifts so Jungkook could sleep in his own bed, but he refused. His previous security guard then became busy with police investigations. Time fused together. Hours to days to weeks to months, he stayed by her side. Brushing her soft silvery black-tipped fur every day. Helping the nurses lift her up. Learning to massage her muscles and move her limbs to avoid joint stiffness and bed sores. Living for any sign of her waking up.

His moon did wake up.

She did, and then was immediately dragged back into unresponsive slumber. It was a good sign, the doctors said. Her body was healing well too. She was no typical coma patient. Whatever was keeping her eyes closed was had nothing to do with biology. Jungkook didn’t know anything about the moon, prayers, or any god, but he wished on all of them to bring her back to him.

The Alpha had summoned him, specifically.

They stood in silence, with the Alpha in his human form facing him with a blank face and gold eyes gleaming with murder. Age had only made him more dangerous. He was naturally an intimidating man and did not try to mask it. The resemblance was uncanny despite his daughter taking after her mother in general appearance. The shape of their eyes was the same. Although the Alpha had jet-black fur and larger ears, they had the same curvature as hers. The shape and taper of their tails was similar as well.

“Pup.”

Jungkook straightened even more, trying not to squeak. Her father had a gruff, grating voice even in human form. Maybe it was the stress. Probably not. The Alpha was likely perpetually grumpy.

“I don’t like you.”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say to that so he just kept his mouth shut. Those predator eyes narrowed.

Then, the Alpha let out a heavy exhale.

“Take the folder on the visitor’s chair. Read it.”

Jungkook craned his head to his left to see a dark blue folder crammed with papers.

“I don’t have to like you for you to be a good man.”

He turned back and those pearly gold eyes seemed tired in that stern, lined face. There was surely something more animal than human radiating from him. And yet. The Dire Alpha raised his head and the action prompted Jungkook to do the same. He did not feel particularly strong, standing next to the heavily injured leader of the Dire, but the look the older man was giving him made him feel strong for some reason.

“In due time, you may find yourself in a position you feel unqualified for, pup. But even the most educated are all living life for the first time. Do not lose that person that she has believed in to this day.”

Feeling a tightness in his chest, Jungkook nodded.

He walked over to the folder and picked it up. He hadn’t said anything this entire time. There wasn’t much to say. But, before he left, he stood by the door and turned back. The Alpha had not hunched over. He remained upright, regal, tracking his movement.

“Will she wake up?” Jungkook asked quietly.

The leader became the father.

“She will.”

The tension in his shoulders subsided.

“I would get that hair of yours touched up so she has something nice to look at.”

Ouch.

“Y-Yes, Alpha.”

It had been a long time since you had seen your father in human form.

“Are you supposed to be standing?”

Your father looked even stranger in a hospital gown that didn’t quite fit. Someone had draped a silver robe over his big shoulders. The same person probably had brushed his long jet-black hair and tied it into a simple ponytail at the base of his neck. His tall, triangular ears were glossy black. Pearly gold eyes gazed down at you. He was attached to a metal pole with a hanging IV bag.

“No.”

A tall, large man stood in the shadow of the door. He had shorter, swept-back black hair, sharp dark eyes, and a tan complexion. He wore a white dress shirt, slim black tie, and black slacks. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. You recognized his identification tag. RJ's Private Security Services. He must have been assigned to your father. He noticed you watching him, and bowed respectfully in return.

You glanced at your father.

He didn’t react.

The Alpha’s arms were heavily bandaged, all the way up to his shoulders. You looked back to the bodyguard.

He offered a small, knowing smile.

Your eyes went back to pearly gold ones. He offered nothing. You tried to suppress your own smile, and failed. Your father continued to act like the silent comprehension was not happening on his watch. You breathed in. It hurt. The Alpha noticed, internal pain darkening his expression.

“I’m sorry, Father.”

His gruff voice softened. “Do not apologize.”

You looked down at your bedridden, battered body. “I…” Your voice was raspy and thin from the prolonged use of an endotracheal tube. “I tried to fight it. If I was stronger…”

“You were poisoned. Poison is not generally something anywolf can fight off, pup.”

You remained silent, fighting back tears.

“The culprits were attempting to mimic the substance used on your mother. A drug to induce forced transformation among Dires. Their operation was to introduce Dires of low socioeconomic status to recreational hard drugs, capture them once dependent, and use them as their experimental subjects. We still do not know if the transformation is meant to be permanent or at will. We also do not know what they intended to do with such a drug, but all options seem unpleasant. The authorities have informed me that they estimate about seventy-percent of their operation has been shut down. They are working on the rest.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Low socioeconomic status… That is most of the Dires who have chosen to integrate with human society.”

There was a heavy pause.

“Yes, pup. It is.”

You felt a pang of regret. The realization sank in. “They targeted me on purpose. Because…”

“You would pose as a formidable threat,” your father agreed. “Your status among the people is also key. The result would be political chaos. Riots, protests, an uproar among humans to exile the Dire. It is not lost on me that this fringe group seems to want a repeat of the situation with your mother. At that time, we were spared by chance due to there being victims on both sides.”

Neither of you could bear to look at the other.

It hurt too much.

“And… And my lack of hesitation for executing the threat.”

You gripped the flimsy hospital blanket. This was all your fault. If only you had stayed away from the humans. If only you hadn’t tried to help them during full moon nights. If only you kept it in your damn pants.

“They would not have had access to me if I had stayed in the castle. If I–”

“Do not apologize for living your life, Daughter,” the Alpha sternly reprimanded. “Do not let strangers turn you bitter to your true self.”

“You almost died!”

You tried to shout back but your voice couldn’t withstand the outburst. It cracked with emotion, and for a brief moment you were simply a wounded puppy arguing with the impenetrable authority of your wolf father. And then the lines on his face, aging and scars, silenced you.

The Alpha looked tired.

He spent his entire life displaying his strength. Deep inside, you believed that he would live forever. He lived up to the illusion that he would, until he couldn’t. You stared into those pearl gold eyes, and knew. He had never said it. You had always known that he had silently placed all the blame on himself. But he also made sure that you would never feel the pain of losing another parent. He did everything, even now, to preserve that belief. The Alpha knew he would die one day. But he did not remind you.

He couldn’t bear to do so.

Silence.

Then, your father continued in a gentler tone. “Your appearance changed their original plan, it seems. There were many references to a much larger operation in the works. Multiple Berserkers attacking multiple cities. But the drug had not be perfected yet. A few of the members had decided on their own to expedite the prototype while your guard was still down. They hastily took their first opportunity. I believe they were aiming for many causalities,” he added. The corner of his lips raised lightly. “They did not expect you to come home.”

You slumped back into the raised hospital bed. “I don’t know why I did, honestly.”

“Your unconscious choice saved us all.”

You frowned and couldn’t help but quip back, “I don’t feel very saved, Father.”

He smiled.

You could not describe the amount of safety you felt upon seeing your father’s smile in human form.

He leaned down with a lot of effort and place his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“My daughter,” he murmured, his deep voice straining. “Please do not forgot that who you have chosen to become has saved many lives, both human and Dire.”

You closed your eyes, too, trying your best to hold the tears in.

“I am proud of you,” your father said. “So very proud.”

The Dire Alpha was a big man. A towering wolf. A leader to everyone’s eyes. In this moment, he was a father comforting his child in the Dire way, forehead to forehead, calling to the heart as the moon watched from high above. You wanted to hug him, but it was impossible at the moment. Your father would likely not appreciate it at all. He also couldn’t stop you either. You would do so eventually.

At the moment, though.

He grimaced. Suddenly, you felt another presence. The guard had stepped up to the bed and gently straightened your father, hoisting him up with more ease than most. His ID swayed as he bent over, and you caught the name. The Alpha shot him a displeased look. The man didn’t flinch or shake his head.

You said it for your father. “Thank you, Kim Mingyu.”

The young man looked startled despite his intimidating frame. He bowed again in apology. “Just doing my job.”

“Against my father’s will, I’m sure.”

Mingyu was trying not to laugh. “I am doing my best to make sure the Alpha is well taken care of.”

Said big bad leader was curling his lip in mute distaste. You couldn’t resist to annoy a little bit more. “Please do. This is the most groomed I’ve seen my father in years. You must tell me what products you’re using on his skin.”

“Ah, it’s a brand called L'Occitane–”

The Alpha growled.

Both you and Mingyu shut up immediately.

You could feel the violent irritation radiating off your father.

“I will escort him back to his room,” Mingyu hurriedly coughed.

“I’ll try to visit you soon when I can, Father.”

He barked back, “Don’t.” You weren’t going to listen, of course.

“Uh, hi.”

The taller man in a dark blue sweater and mid-wash jeans nodded to him. “Good evening.”

Jungkook frowned and patiently waited for the stranger to finish his selection. An unsweetened green tea and a Coke Zero. Weird combination. The other man bent over to pick up the drinks from the vending machine. He had broad, built shoulders that were obvious even through the sweater.

“Er.” Jungkook cleared his throat. “This might be a weird question but I, uh, been seeing you around here lately.”

The stranger in the blue sweater straightened and looked down at him.

It was late at night. The two men were standing in the snack area next to the currently closed hospital cafeteria. There were a few staff walking past them, but most visitors had largely gone home. And a hospital wasn’t exactly, um, socialization central. The taller one tilted his head.

“Are you hitting on me?”

Disgust immediately overtook Jungkook’s expression. “Ew. No. I’m not.”

The tall man blinked in puppy-like confusion. He had black hair mostly swept back, matching dark eyes, and sun-kissed skin. He stuck out like a sore thumb due to his height and striking muscular frame that bordered on bodybuilder. Unlikely to be fashion muscles, though.

“I’m only asking because I’ve seen you in a suit during the day,” Jungkook muttered, walking past to puzzled man in a fluster, punching for a simple hot coffee. He tapped his card against the reader. “But sometimes you come at night dressed in normal clothes.”

“I’m off the clock.”

The machine made a strange hiccupping noise. Jungkook looked down at the opening. Nothing. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Seriously? He pressed the hot coffee button again with twice as much anger. The vending machine crossly beeped back, demanding him to scan his card again. Then the machine lurched and there was a loud clanging.

A can of hot coffee tumbled down into receiving area.

Jungkook’s eyes shifted.

The stranger backed up from the side of the vending machine with a shrug. “Happens sometimes.”

“T… Thanks.” I guess.

“I’m surprised you’ve only now noticed.”

He cracked open the can of coffee and began to chug it down. Fuck, he needed that. “Huh?”

The big man tucked the canned tea into his elbow, holding the Coke Zero in in his left hand. He pointed to Jungkook with his right. Okay, that was slightly rude. “You’re the Alpha daughter’s boyfriend.”

Apparently, word had gotten around. A sting of irritation prickled through him. “She didn’t do anything wrong. She was poisoned. I was there. Do you want proof?”

The stranger scratched his head with a half-pout. “Hm? I know.” He had a deep voice but there was a hint of childishness to it. Maybe he was younger than he looked. “I was the one who prepared the reports and news articles for you to read.”

Now Jungkook was the one who was confused. “Wha?”

The large hand extended out to him. “My name is Kim Mingyu. I’ve been assigned to protect the Alpha during his stay here.”

He stared at the other guy. This suddenly became awkward. “Jeon… Jeon Jungkook.” He hesitantly reached out. It was a firm handshake. He straightened up a bit so as to not appear as tired as he felt. The Mingyu guy looked like he was full of energy. Then it clicked. Oh. Wasn’t this the guy I was yelling at that night? Jungkook winced. Mingyu smiled faintly as he caught on. Shit. “Um… I think I threatened you… some time ago.”

“You did.” The Coke Zero was clicked open with a single finger flick. “You were beside yourself at the time. No hard feelings.”

Jungkook puffed out a cheek. “I should be the one saying that.”

His gulps were rather impressive. The soda can lowered. The other man let out a relieved sigh.

“If you’re off the clock, then why are you here?”

Those dark eyes raised. There was a reluctant pause. And then Mingyu said, “Typically family stay bedside to offer extra luxuries and a sense of normalcy. His only living family is in the hospital right now. He ordered his servants to stay home. The Alpha does not like to feel crowded.”

He calmly explained but Jungkook felt as if Mingyu stabbed him.

He hung his head. Well, he was certainly making some type of impression to his future father-in-law, although it was doubtful that his presence would offer any type of comfort. Still, some random guy was doing more for the Alpha than he was. Even Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung were handling the investigation behind the scenes. His lips parted, trying to think of a way to defend himself, but nothing came out. He felt a tap on his shoulder. The contact prompted Jungkook to raise his gaze.

“I see you’ve finally gone to the hair salon,” Mingyu chuckled lightheartedly. “You no longer look like an abandoned trumpet.”

Jungkook squinted, unsure if it was an insult or a compliment. He decided to change the subject instead. “Does the Alpha consider you a friend?”

“I doubt it.” A bit of roguish amusement danced over Mingyu’s strong features. “He’s pretty grumpy most of the time. But it’s hard for me to do nothing when I know I am capable.” He chuckled. “I don’t know. I guess he hasn’t really done anything too terribly good for us humans, yet…” There was a faraway look in his dark eyes. The silence dragged for a little before he continued. “He is someone’s father. And one day, if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll be a dad too, so I hope that when the day comes that if I too need help, someone who barely knows me tries their best to help me, you know? Plus, I’m one of the few people that can lift him by myself, heh.”

Jungkook clutched his can of hot coffee and felt slightly ashamed.

“Yeah…”

They stood in the hall, leisurely sipping their drinks.

“Um.”

Mingyu turned his head to glance at him.

“What’s your workout routine?” Jungkook asked. “I’ve been trying to get stronger.”

You made a sour face and mumbled, “Walking sucks.”

Jungkook’s arm steadied your waist. “The nurses said it might be painful for a while.”

He was warm. You willed your limbs to move. They responded sluggishly. You felt like a newborn pup who had just discovered walking. Your right leg especially had a limp. At least your chest hurt less. Sweat broke out over your shoulders as you shuffled in the hospital courtyard, leaning against Jungkook. He was solid and patient, gently encouraging you one step at a time. Moonlight streamed down. There was no one out at this hour when you felt the strongest.

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“I slept a little before I came over.”

You tugged them to a nearby bench. Sitting down felt too good. Ugh. “You don’t need to visit every day,” you chided.

“Yes, I do,” he argued back, not accepting your suggestion.

The worst part was that you didn’t have the energy to fight him. You wished to feel better sooner rather than later. A sigh rattled through your ribs as you stared up to the waning beacon of the night sky. You knew he knew now.

“It might be better if you returned to your simple life, Jungkook.”

He rubbed your shoulder. “You know I can’t do that.”

You had to try and talk some sense into him. “Maybe find yourself a girlfriend who isn’t in danger of being poisoned by crazy people.”

“Or maybe crazy people should stop trying to poison my girlfriend,” he grumbled. “I think the investigation is going well, at least. Taehyung tries to update me when he can, even if I don’t really understand.”

You felt his fingertips brush your ear. You sighed, defeated. It was an impossible task, anyway. “I told you not to follow me. That was very stupid of you.”

He smoothed your fur. “In my defense, I wasn’t trying to follow you. I just thought… I thought your dad would know what to do. Or maybe… Maybe I wanted him to know right away.” Jungkook sighed and buried his face in your hair. “I was selfish. I was scared. He’s the strongest Dire wolf, isn’t he? I could wait for the police, but what could they do in a situation like that…? I had to take the chance.”

You gazed at the moon as Jungkook held you for your comfort and his.

“I ran to him too,” you whispered softly. “All of me ran to Father, praying he could save me.”

You closed your eyes.

Your body was healing and yet guilt hurt more than any physical pain.

“I almost killed him.”

Droplets squeezed from your lashes, sliding down your face. They felt cold and horrible and necessary.

“And I realized I had felt only… Only a fraction of what he did when he was forced to kill Mother.”

Your entire body shuddered. Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, not too tightly, but tight enough, and you felt wetness by your neck, soaking into the collar of your hospital gown. Your head bowed against his as the quiet sobs ebbed and flowed. You missed Mother even though she was only a distant memory now. You wished she could have watched you grow up. You wished you could have watched her grow old. You wished you could have introduced Jungkook to her and maybe gotten her on your side before chancing the meeting with your big bad wolf of a father. You almost laughed at the absurdity of the what-if, but you were too overcome with sniffles to do so.

“I... I w-wouldn’t know what t-to do… If I lost you…”

He shuddered against your ear and kissed the side of your head fiercely.

“My moon…”

You, too, wouldn’t know how to shine without your sun.

You cried in Jungkook’s warm embrace.

The Alpha was fascinated by the weighted hand grip strengthener Kim Mingyu provided him. He was slowly but surely returning to gradual use of his arms again. The daily physical therapy focused on regaining his mobility and flexibility. His hands, of course, had suffered. Broken bones, torn muscle, and atrophy from lack of use. His grip was not as it was, which was difficult for him to admit. The young man had noticed. The Alpha was not going to take it, as he did not enjoy charity, but it was too intriguing to resist the little object.

And so, the old wolf man sat on the hospital bed, distracted by the small exercise tool as the human named Mingyu brushed his tail.

Most assumed the Dire Alpha had an entire crew for personal grooming, but he did not. He found such processes patronizing. He was not a domesticated dog. He cleaned himself and did a fine job of it. When this freedom was taken from him, he did not want to cooperate with the hospital staff, and only did so when he realized it was impossible to bathe himself on his own. The nurses were efficient, sterile, and quick. But it was Mingyu that came by after his daily shift with additional products. At first, the Alpha was very annoyed by this, until the young man asked, somewhat hesitatingly, if he would like his long black hair properly washed.

The Alpha was taken aback by this.

“Do as you like.”

The old wolf had to admit he found it to be – mildly – enjoyable.

Not that enjoyable.

Mildly.

Hiring a personal bodyguard was not necessary as the hospital had its own security. However, it was better to be safe than sorry. And, again, the Alpha despised multiple staff crowding around him simply to maneuver his body. He would rather have one very strong, well-trained aide. Such a person would only be needed during the day, as that was when the majority of medical tasks would be performed. Dires were also generally more alert at night due to the moon’s influence. Night security patrolling the halls of the hospital was safe enough. Therefore, it was unnecessary and unpaid for Kim Mingyu to be here.

He just was.

The Alpha did not have the energy to chase him away, anyway.

He switched to his left hand with a pained grunt and continued his reps as Mingyu stood up and removed the excess loose fur from the brush. They did not have deep conversations. In fact, they rarely spoke to each other at all. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mingyu replace the pillowcase on the specialty pillow he had bought him a few weeks ago. Hospitals were not exactly hotels.

What a strange young man.

Mingyu held out the green tea he had purchased earlier, a white straw sticking out of the can opening.

The two males did not look at each other as the Alpha drank half of it in one go.

It was not accurate to ask if the human was looking down on him. None of these simple tasks held the air of one holier than thou. Nor did this feel like pity. There wasn’t any unpleasant invasion of his personal space or privacy either.

It felt like having a son.

Some Dire, like humans, very much cared about having male offspring. There was a time the Alpha was like that too, but after the loss of his wife, he completely abandoned such thoughts. In fact, he discovered an immeasurable pride in training his daughter to be the best fighter in the pack other than himself. And so, he did not care much for a son nor think about it, until this awkward untold relationship had begun to develop between him and this random security guard.

The Alpha did not think he was a very lucky dog.

Maybe karma was overdue.

“You should go home and get some sleep.”

Mingyu was folding the blanket he had brought last week and exchanging it for the same one of a different color. Extra large to accommodate his bigger frame. “If I wanted to get some actual sleep, I would be more successful here than at home.” He seemed both amused and annoyed. “My roommate plays video games at night. He’s an online streamer.”

The wolf leader could only guess what that meant.

“It’s better for him to broadcast at night since most people work during the day.”

Well. That was logical, at least. He rested the gripping device by his knee. Mingyu wordlessly offered to place it on the table by the bed for easy access. The Alpha handed it to him without objection. The human massaged his hands. It was odd but not despicable. The increased blood flow helped his tired muscles relax after using them.

“What do you get out of this?”

Most times, the Alpha would add human after such questions. It was a subtle sign of his eternal loathing of humanity. By no means did this interaction with one change his general distaste for them. He still mostly hated them.

He simply hated this one a little less.

Mingyu worked up to the wrists. They didn’t make eye contact. He spoke frankly.

“If I can do it and it’s the right thing to do, I will.”

They let the conversation die. The massage pivoted to key joints that released tension. Afterward, Mingyu produced an electronic reader and prepared the stand on the overhanging surface of the hospital bed so it was mostly hands-free. The Alpha had learned much about scientific advances, as he believed it was important to understand how the human world was changing. However, technology was not a daily part of castle life. Moreover, he was not a wolf with the patience to sit and read a book. Mingyu explained how to use it.

“When my dad was recovering from a back injury, he liked this better than watching television. I asked him for a few recommendations, but I think he went on a bit of a download splurge. Hopefully something in here interests you.”

A fascinating device. The Alpha did not hear Mingyu leave for the night.

Day by day, Jungkook witnessed her resilience and fell in love with her a little more.

If he was honest, it was a confliction of emotions. As he watched her recover, he felt the strain of his own mortality a little more. Being human seemed like an imprisonment compared to the strength of the Dire. She was now walking with barely a limp, unaided, the effort only obvious by the bite of her lower lip, and Jungkook was acutely aware that he would have never survived what she did. Yet there was this sense of overwhelming pride that overcame those unwelcome feelings. He held onto it, hoping that it was how he truly felt.

When his moon stumbled, Jungkook always steadied her.

He would feel her breath against his cheek.

And when she looked at him, he forgot all of his insecurities.

She scolded him lightly yet again. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you in bed with me.”

“Don’t lie.”

He would stubbornly tuck himself in the blanket and glare from the armchair until she laughed, admitting defeat. One of those nights, she admitted the heavy truth.

“I thought about letting the darkness take me.”

“What…?”

Her silvery ears tipped down guiltily. “I don’t know… I don’t know how I will live up to a legacy far beyond me,” she sighed, holding onto the blanket tightly. Her eyes cast down. “But I couldn’t do it. Not after…” When she finally looked back to him, he swore the gold flecks in her eyes sparkled. “How could I give up when you didn’t give up on me? Even after I told you not to.”

“How could I give up?”

Before Jungkook knew it, he was out of the chair and cupping her hands. His eyes stung. He did not want to cry.

“I’m so weak.”

She petted his palms soothingly. “You’re not–”

“I am.” He hung his head, wrapping his fingers around hers. “Don’t lie. I couldn’t survive what you did.”

Frustration laced into her expression. “It’s not the same. You cannot compare us like that.”

“The only reason I didn’t die from that poison is because it wasn’t made for my species,” he cut in, staring into those gold-flecked eyes that knew much better than he did. “And, despite all that pain and the literal attempt to hijack your sanity, you still managed to go to the one place where you had a chance. You didn’t hurt a single person along the way. You managed to fight it off.” He shook her hands a little, quickly stopping as she winced. “I’m just a guy. Just a guy who really, really loves you. You’re right. It is not the same, you’re right.” Despite his best efforts, Jungkook was getting choked up. “I know it wasn’t only me that made you fight so hard.”

He pulled a hand out to place it over his racing heartbeat. And then he turned his wrist to place it over hers. Her eyes widened as he spoke.

“You are fighting for our future. Humans and Dires,” Jungkook breathed out.

He believed it too, with his entire being.

“Your purpose will lead you to become a legend.”

She blinked at him. “Did you hit your head?”

Jungkook drew back, confused. “What?”

But then her hand raised. Slowly. Cradled his cheek, drawing him back down.

“I don’t want to do any of it without you.”

He let out a sheepish chuckle. “I think I’ll be too busy spending the rest of my life paying off this hospital bill…”

She tilted her head. “What are you talking about? The Alpha is the primary shareholder of this hospital.”

He was mid-laugh when her words hit him. “Wait, what?”

Her hand lowered from his face to touch her cheek. “Uh, isn’t it obvious? When the Dire began living among humans, our people were unable to find adequate healthcare out here.” She was speaking as if the city was the boonies. “They would have to return to the forest, which is not acceptable if it was an emergency. Once my father caught wind of it, he worked to find ways to provide accessible health centers for the Dire. But, ah, as expected, the pack doesn’t like the idea much. Try to keep that information to yourself. Don’t worry about the money, though. I’m sure the hospital will care of it.”

A muscle in Jungkook’s eyebrow twitched. “Rich people…”

“I can hear your mumblings, you know.”

“I know you can.” He stuck his tongue out. “Good luck punishing me.”

She grinned wolfishly.

“Good idea. I’ll keep a mental tally.”

“Isn’t it wonderful to be discharged together, Father?”

The Alpha grunted.

Her mate was standing next to his daughter trying not to look at him. She looked almost her usual bright, silvery self. Up until this day, the Alpha had remained in his human form. He was finally out of his hospital gown and into the loose robes of the Dire. She, too, was wrapped in silver. With a glance, one could tell her right calf would never look the same. He felt his shoulders lower. Then he felt a tap on his loosely bandaged upper arm. The Alpha’s eyes darted to his daughter’s soft smile.

Two survivors in battle.

She grinned when she had his attention. He spared her his faint smile that he gave no one else.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked.

All three turned to stare at Kim Mingyu, who was standing behind the Dire leader and scratching the back of his head. The tanned, muscular man was in a white tank top and blue track pants, holding a black duffel bag.

“Ah…”

Mingyu pointed to Jungkook.

The ash blonde pointed back at him.

“We were… We were going to work out.”

His daughter looked confused. “Since when are you two friends?” She sent her father a confused look. The Alpha shrugged and continued to look disinterested. She caught Mingyu’s expression of concern towards them. The big stoic man did not grant any further explanation.

“Uh huh…”

She was going to pester him about it. The Alpha was not looking forward to that interrogation.

“Father.”

He looked down, and for a fleeting, beautiful moment, she looked just like her mother with her teasing expression and lust for life.

“Let’s run.”

The grind of bone-on-bone.

For a moment, there was a skipped heartbeat of hesitation. The memory of their last transformation haunting them. A torrent of jet-black fur. A whirlwind of silver tipped in black, complete with the white crescent waterfalling down her back. The bright moon gleamed overhead, awaiting them. The fear was replaced by exhilaration. Instinct that refused to be suppressed. From two legs to four paws, in sweeping strides that sped past passerby in howling wind, they ran side by side as father and daughter. Free.

Two wolves, as they were meant to be.

The two men watched them run amongst unraveled silver. Even fellow nurses and doctors had stepped out to witness the beauty of nature at work. No one said anything, too in awe of who and what the witnessed. The two blurs became one with the dark night, enthusiastic barks melding into the sound of the wind. Triumphant, alive, and joyful.

Then Jungkook smacked the back of Mingyu’s head. He had to reach up. Annoying.

“Ow!”

“You better have not been staring at her when her clothes came off.”

“The hell are you talking about?”

“I saw your head shift.”

“You’re delusional. And that makes you the weird one, staring at me instead of your girlfriend,” Mingyu pointed out, massaging his new sore spot.

“Grrr.”

“So scary. Not.”

He ran before Jungkook could strike him again. Might as well start the workout with some cardio.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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