#i don't get into a lot of drama so if you cross me i will remember it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chahnniesroom · 3 months ago

Text

cross my heart

pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader

summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.

word count: 4.0k

tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)

a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅

read it on ao3 | masterlist

It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends.

You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.

Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.

The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.

The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.

Well, apart from one thing.

The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.

You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaiming when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you're always been a bit too sensitive.

You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.

Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.

You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.

—

The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.

There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.

You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.

And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.

You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.

You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.

You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.

You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.

You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.

“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”

“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”

“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.

“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”

“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”

“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”

“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”

After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.

“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”

“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.

“I know that she has an exam tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”

“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”

“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”

“I saw her at the library.”

“Okay,” Chan says slowly.

“She was with someone else, a guy.”

“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard. “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”

“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”

“Who was the guy?”

“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.

“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”

“No- but, I-”

“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.

“What? Why would I make this up?”

“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”

“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”

“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”

“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”

“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”

“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”

“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.

“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.

“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.

Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.

—

The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.

Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.

“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.

“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious.

In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.

While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.

“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”

“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”

“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.

“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”

“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”

You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o’ is so disarming.

“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.

“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.

Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.

“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”

“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”

“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”

“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”

“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”

“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.

“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”

“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”

“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”

“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.

—

You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.

It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.

Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.

“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”

“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.

“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.

The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.

Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.

He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.

“Y/n,” he says gravely.

“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.

“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.

“Okay? What did they say?”

Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.

“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“What?” You can't believe your ears.

“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”

You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.

“Do you know why?”

“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.

“Oh.”

“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone.

“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.

“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”

“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”

“Y/n-”

“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”

Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.

—

A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced.

You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.

He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.

“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”

��Ah, Hayoon.”

“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.

“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”

“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”

For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.

“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”

“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.

“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”

Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.

“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?”

“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”

“Y/n?” Chan pleads.

“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”

“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”

You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

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sethsclearwater · 8 months ago

Note

Paul headcanon right now—he’s definitely the type of guy to drive besides you if you have a tantrum, you insisting that you’re walking home after a petty argument but he wouldn’t leave you to walk alone duh. He’s 100% super protective and if it came to it he’d just throw you over his shoulder, with you kicking at his back.

UGHH I love him so much

-⭐️

PLEASE HE SO WOULD LMAO

...

"i told you i don't wanna look at you right now lahote!" you called when you realized that your imprinter was most definitely pulling up beside you in his car. despite the fact that it was pouring outside and you were already soaked, you had decided you'd rather walk back to your apartment in the rain than deal with arguing with paul over his family drama.

when paul didn't respond after a few moments, you decided to peek over your shoulder only to see him getting out of the car and striding over to you, "so fuckin' dramatic," he grumbled, low enough that you barely caught it but you did and immediately gasped, taking a step back from him.

"get in the car y/n," he ordered, clearly getting irritated over how wet you both now were getting thanks to your decision to walk home in the rain.

he rarely used your first name, generally only calling you pet names so you knew he was just as annoyed as you suspected he was. still, you decided to stand your ground and shook your head, "i already told you i don't wanna look at you," you countered, spinning back around so you could continue your miserable walk home in the freezing rain.

before you could even take a step, paul's hands were on your hips, spinning you around so he could throw you over his shoulder, "don't gotta look at me," you could tell he was rolling his eyes as he said it and you were immediately kicking your legs in every way possible to try and get him to put you down.

"put me down right now lahote!" you yelled despite your futile attempts to get out of his grip. paul was rolling his eyes again, not seeming to have much difficulty keeping you restrained as he pulled the passenger side door of his car open.

he was setting you down inside, sliding one hand to rest behind your head so he could be sure you wouldn't give yourself a concussion while you tried squirming away, "sit still," he ordered, voice somehow more firm with you than it had been a few moments prior which had you pausing your thrashing for a moment to look up at him, a flabbergasted look on your face as he buckled you in.

once he was confident you wouldn't be trying to run away, he crouched down next to you and allowed his eyes to meet yours, his gaze softening a bit when he saw the angry tears streaming down your cheeks.

"i'll drive you home," he reassured, "and then you don't gotta look at me until you want to, yea?" he suggested, sliding both of his hands over your thighs, the material of your leggings now soaked from the weather.

you sucked in a breath, not trusting yourself enough to talk yet so you settled for giving him a small nod which he seemed to find acceptable. he gave your thighs a gentle squeeze before he was getting up and shutting the passenger door, quickly coming around the car so he could get in the driver's side.

you had your arms crossed over your chest in a silent protest as he drove you back to your apartment, the drive only taking a few minutes before he was pulling into the parking lot.

once he had the car in park again, you allowed your gaze to drift over to him, "you gonna walk me in too?" you asked. you had intended for it to come across as sarcastic but instead your voice just came out much weaker than you'd anticipated which had paul letting out a heavy sigh.

he didn't want to rile you up anymore than you already were but he couldn't help how anxious he got at the thought of sending you inside alone so he settled for responding with a simple, "that's the plan."

you let out an equally heavy sigh, slumping back into the seat as paul got out of the car and came around to your side, pulling the door open for you, "i'll be quick," he reassured, crouching back down for a moment so he could uncross your arms and take your hands into his, "come on, yea?" he asked, waiting for you to nod before he was helping you get unbuckled and out of his car.

he was nothing if not a man of his word, staying silent as he guided you into your apartment complex, one hand on your lower back while he walked you to your door just as he said he would.

you fumbled with your keys, taking a few moments too long to open the door thanks to your shivering and the surging emotions currently going through your system. once you finally got the door opened, you stepped inside, quickly kicking your shoes off before you were spinning around to face paul who was patiently waiting in the door frame.

you really wished you could've come up with some kind of snarky remark to get rid of him but instead just found yourself staring at him, at a loss for words. your gaze was drifting down before you could catch yourself and you couldn't help the way you stared at the way his thin t-shirt was clinging to his skin.

"fuck it," you murmured to yourself, immediately stepping towards him so you could smash your lips against his. paul didn't hesitate before he was reciprocating and slamming you up against the wall.

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote blurb #paul lahote angst #paul lahote smut #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight imagine #imagine #blurb #angst #smut #paul lahote fanfic

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 2 months ago

Text

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚࿔ 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝜗𝜚˚⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

synopsis: Sylus takes care of you when you start your period

tags: mentions of blood,, no penetration, service dom! Sylus, Soft in its own way (?), praise, fingering, lots of reassurance

wrd cnt: 1.5k

musical immersion: okay chat hear me out i listened to this song while writing this and ESPECIALLY THIS ONE it’s exactly the kind of vibes i was going for in terms of fluffiness when writing god i need sylus

a/n: I unlocked the “exclusive care” secret times with sylus and…GODDODJDJXJD please sylus take care of my on my period forever !! Anyways enough of that enjoy guys hehe

Your fingers trace delicate patterns along the rim of your wineglass as you sit across from Sylus, the soft clink of cutlery and the warm hum of conversation filling the air. The candlelight flickers, casting gentle shadows on his chiseled features, making his already piercing red eyes seem even more captivating. The aroma of fine cuisine wafts around you, but it's overshadowed by the palpable tension between you two.

Suddenly, a dull ache blooms in your lower abdomen, catching you off guard. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, hoping it's just a temporary discomfort. But as the sensation intensifies, you realize with a sinking feeling that your period has arrived. Mortification floods your cheeks as you feel a warmth seep through your clothes.

Sylus notices your sudden discomfort and furrows his brow with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asks softly, his voice laced with genuine worry.

"Yeah- I just think I got my period though," you admit hesitantly, heat rising to your face. "I didn't expect it today."

A look of understanding crosses his face, and he smiles warmly, reaching across the table to gently squeeze your hand.

"There's no need to be embarrassed. How about we bring the dessert to the couch and watch a movie instead? We can just relax, if that would make you feel better?”

You nod gratefully, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

Sylus directs you to the cupboard in the bathroom he stocked with products just in case for this exact situation, before you make your way to the living area.

Carefully, you position yourself on the plush couch, Sylus sets up the movie — a romantic drama that promises to tug at the heartstrings. He sits beside you, pulling both your legs up to drape inbetween his legs, caressing your warm skin as you lay against the armrest with a pillow behind you. The warmth of his body is comforting, easing some of the tension in your muscles.

The movie begins, and as the opening scenes unfold, you find yourself getting lost in the story.

Sylus's presence beside you is a steady anchor, grounding you even as the film whisks you away into its world of love and longing. You adjust your position slightly, trying to find a more comfortable spot, and inadvertently brush your thigh against him. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through you, and you freeze, waiting to see if he noticed.

He does. His breath hitches ever so slightly, and he turns his head to meet your gaze, a smoldering heat flaring in his eyes. "You keep doing that, and I might not be able to concentrate on the movie," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

Embarrassment makes your cheeks burn, but there's also a thrill running through you. "Sorry," you whisper back, though you don't move away.

Your legs remain nestled between his, your close proximity to him both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Sylus's fingertips begin to trace lazy circles on your knee, gradually increasing pressure until he's caressing you with deliberate intent. "Don't be sorry," he says, his voice gravelly with desire. "I like when you touch me."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you let out a shaky breath. The movie continues playing, but all you can focus on is the way his hands are gently exploring your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they land. He shifts slightly, angling his body towards you, and one hand moves down to rest on your hip, his thumb teasing the edge of your waistband.

"You feel so good against me," Sylus whispers, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks.

His touch becomes bolder, sliding further underneath your shirt to caress the sensitive skin of your lower back. You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself from smirking as his fingers dance closer to the curve of your hip. The heat in your face forcing a blush, and you instinctively press your hips against his hand, seeking comfort.

Sylus responds to your silent invitation, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulls you closer. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks, though his tone suggests he's hoping for a negative answer.

"No," you manage to breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. "…don't stop."

With your permission, he keeps his large hand on your back, rubbing it lovingly as the movie plays, his other hand soothing up and down your knee and legs.

Your breath hitches as Sylus's hand continues its slow, deliberate exploration of your back. The warmth of his touch sears through your spine, sending tingles down your entire body. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, a palpable reminder of the growing tension between you both. The movie plays on, but neither of you is paying attention anymore. All focus is on the electrifying connection that has been building all evening.

"Sylus," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of worry and excitement. "I don't know if this is such a good idea."

He leans in closer, half his face illuminated from the screen and the rest in darkness. "Why not?” He asks, examining your face for the answer.

“Ahhh, I know why.” He says with dramatic intent, “You’re worried about the mess? Or perhaps that it bothers me?” He says with a teasing tone.

“Well- yes both of those.” You admit.

You hear a rich and deep laugh escape his lungs, his hand soothing higher up your thigh now.

“Kitten, you really expected me to care about something so trivial?” He says with upturnt brows.

You feel a sense of relief wash over you.

“Now…May I?” He asks, pointing to your nervous fingertips toying with the zip of your jacket.

At your nod, Sylus's hand slips higher, deftly unzipping your jacket without breaking eye contact. The cool air hits your skin as the garment falls open, revealing that you're wearing nothing underneath. A slow, wicked smile curves his lips as he takes in the sight of your bare chest and pulls your body into his lap.

"Such a naughty girl," he murmurs, his fingers gingerly circling one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. "Didn't think I'd enjoy this as much as I do...you’re so searingly beautiful”

With that, he lightly presses down on one of your erect nipples, causing you to gasp and arch into his touch. "Sylus..." you whimper, your body betraying your initial hesitation.

"Shh," he soothes, leaning in to capture your nipple between his lips, his tongue swirling around it as he sucks gently before pulling away, a string of spit connecting his mouth to your chest. “I’m going to make you feel good, mmkay?”

His other hand migrates down to your core, fingers slipping under the elastic band of your panties to tease your entrance.

"Blood doesn't bother me sweetie," he assures you, his voice muffled by your breast. "If anything, it makes this even more intimate, don’t you think?” He adds, looking up into your eyes with his mouth full.

As he continues to lavish attention on your chest, his fingers dip into your slick folds, finding your clit and rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles. You cry out, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations. Sylus watches you intently, gauging your reactions with every movement of his hand.

"You like that, don't you?" he purrs, his thumb pressing firmly against your clit as his fingers slide deeper inside you. "Tell me how good it feels..."

Your mind is fogged with lust, barely coherent enough to form a response. "It feels... amazing," you manage, your hips bucking involuntarily against his hand.

Seeing your reaction only fuels his desire, and he changes tactics, sucking harder on your nipple while thrusting his fingers inside, painfully slow and deep. Each push and pull drags another moan from your lips, and you clutch onto him desperately, your body desperate for release.

"Looks like someone needs to come," Sylus teases, his fingers continuing to spread your wetness over your throbbing clit.

"You’re close, I can feel it" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire

"Yes," you breathe out, "So close-," you continue, your hips bucking against his hand in uncontrolled desperation. "Yes, just like that."

Sylus's pace is constant, his fingers thrusting in and out of you in perfect harmony with your own movements.

“So sensitive, aren’t you?” He mumbles, his thumb finds your clit once more, pinching and rubbing the sensitive bud with more pressure. The dual stimulation sends you spiraling into oblivion, your body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

"Sylus!" you scream, your toes curling as you reach the peak of your climax. Your inner walls clamp down hard on his fingers, milking them for every last drop of pleasure.

Sylus doesn't let up, continuing to curl his fingers deeply, hearing all the gushes from your pussy, warm blood encapsulating his fingers as he rocks you through your orgasm until you collapse on his chest, utterly spent. He withdraws his hand slowly, pulling his glistening red fingers out and resting them to his side.

"Now, was that so bad?" he teases, his voice dripping with smugness.

You shake your head, still too dazed to speak. The intensity of your orgasm has left you weak-kneed and breathless, your entire body buzzing with residual pleasure. Sylus chuckles softly, clearly pleased with himself, and leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t ever need to be embarrassed with me, Kitten. I’ll here to take care of you, and every one of your needs.” He assures, planting more kisses all over your face.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

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dinogoofymutated · 4 months ago

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Hi. Could you please write some Gambit fluff headcannons? The Gambit Nation is struggling right now and we could all really use some fluffiness from the man himself.

Btw I'm absolutely OBSESSED with your writing. Like, seriously amazing.

Gambit/GN!Reader

I Know you sent this in forever ago after that one godforsaken episode of 97' and I'm so sorry I'm just now getting to it!!! It's been sitting in my drafts for forever and I've just been struggling to come up with fluff hcs! TBH, It started as general fluff and not a whole ass storyline and eventually i just got too far deep to stop! This isn't even as fluffy as I was quite expecting, but once i started writing it just came out and atp I couldn't stop. It's been a rough night, but this really just turned Into being Remy's comfort person HCs.

TWs: rocky family life mentioned. Sneaking out, underage drinking, so on. Smooth timeskip to adulthood. very much fluffy with a lil bit of somber tones. Not enough to be angst tho.

Think about being Teens with Remy Lebeau. The late nights, sneaking out, ranting to each other in the streets and alleyways of New Orleans.

Getting into fights with your parents/guardians or siblings and wanting nothing more than to just shrivel up and disappear. Curling up underneath your blankets with a pillow wrapped around your ears trying to just block out all of the bad thoughts when you keep hearing a persistent Tap, Tap, Tap. And then a much more obvious pop! Against your window.

You know who it is before you even unwrap yourself from the comfort of your bed, opening your window with a lot less energy than you usually have. You're tired and sad, but the face of that Cajun boy your parents don't like always makes you smile.

The red-eyed teen's smirk falls when he sees the rough state you're in, right before ducking back behind the trashcan when a light turns on in your parent's bedroom. Eventually, it turns back off again, and by the time he's back on the sidewalk you're ready to go. He helps you out of the window much more gentlemanly than a thief and a scoundrel probably should, but he's nothing if not a sweetheart. (And a loverboy, but you wouldn't realise it then.)

"Ah, hell wit' them. S'not like they worth your time anyway." Remy's got an arm wrapped around your shoulders, a beer in hand as the two of you lean against the wall of a particular mausoleum. -Course, you had offered whatever ghosts has resided there the first sip as a courtesy, so you're definitely not cursed, right? Not that Remy was even worried about that, but he puts up with your superstitions to comfort you.

"Don't say that, please." You whisper, rubbing your tired eyes. He frowns, knowing that he wouldn't know the first ting about how "normal" families work, but he doesn't quite get why you worry about what they think so much.

"I don't get why you stay, Cher. Not when they treat you like this." You can feel the rumble of Remy's voice through his chest, and find yourself tucking yourself closer into his side. He sets his head on top of yours when you do so.

"What other choice do I have? They're my parents." You whisper, fidgeting with some strings at the hem of your sweatshirt. In hindsight, maybe wearing pajamas to a graveyard wasn't the best choice. You hear Remy chuckle after a moment as a thought crosses his mind, and he swirls the bottle slowly, a few times, before he hands it to you.

"Well..." He starts, giving the words a moment to rest. "There is one option..." You take the bottle from him, cocking a eye as you sit up a little bit to look at him.

"And what's that?"

"Run away wit' me."

He's smirking when he suggests it, a playfulness in his eyes. If only you knew just how serious he was.

"Remy LeBeau!" You scold, unable to fight back your smile as he chuckles at you.

"What? S'not a bad idea, no? No thieves guild, no drama, Jus' you an me." He laughs when you give him an incredulous look and take a dramatic sip from the beer, only to make a face at the taste directly afterwards. Damn, was it rancid.

"Don't get me dreaming, Remy." You mumble. There's only a little bit left it the bottle, and you decide it's better suited for the graveyard. Remy complains about it, trying to fight you for the rest of the beer. The two of you are a couple of idiots to be laughing this loud in a place like this, and even bigger ones to start play-fighting, but neither of you really mind.

You were each other's safe space. The one person the other could run to as the world falls apart around them. Life as a teen was never easy, especially not when you're mutants- but at least you had each other. But as his life was being consumed with the thieves guild, and the prophesy that came with it, you saw less and less of Remy as the years went by.

When you did meet again, it was under the roof of one Professor Xavier. The others were nervous and distrustful about this ex-con entering the team, but you never doubted him for a second. Your person was finally right where you needed him once again. Your Remy. And as smooth as he is around the team, you knew it was a wall, almost an act. Something to befriend the others- but you knew Remy, and you were grateful that after all the years that had passed, he still came to you when he needed you the most.

"Long day?" You ask. Remy hums in response, plopping down onto the bed next to you. You set your book to the side when he rests his head in your lap, soothingly running your hands through his hair as he sighs in content.

"You know it, ma chérie." Remy says in your lap. You can't help but blush at the name still, despite how many years he's spent calling you by the words. Remy's eyes are closed beneath you, giving you the freedom to fully take in the features of his handsome face whilst keeping him unawares. His stubble is growing in, and he's got a few new freckles and scars from your years seperated, but he's still the same wild, reckless kid you fell in love with as a teen. He hums as you brush your thumbs across his cheekbones, catching your hand and pressing it to his lips, leaving a kiss there. He then kisses your inner wrist before holding your hand to his face.

You still don't really know what to say when he does things like that.

"Can I ask you something?" You ask after a moment.

" 'Course, Cher."

"Would you still wanna run away with me?" When the last words leave your mouth, you can feel Remy frown. His eyes open about halfway, your hand still in his hold as he presses it to his face.

"What brought this on?" He asks, and you only shrug, looking away from him as your thumb idly strokes his face.

"I dunno. I was just thinking about it." His skin on your own is starting to feel too warm, your nerves becoming unignorable. Remy cocks an eyebrow at you, before he smiles. Not a smirk, a real, genuine, smile. He takes your chin in his hand, and moves your head so that you're looking at him again.

"If you needed me to run away with you, Belle, I'd do so without looking back." His words make you smile brightly, holding onto the wrist of the hand that holds your chin. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, but Remy moves. He sits up just slightly, and before you know it, Remy Lebeau's lips are pressed against yours in a sweet kiss.

Remy chuckles at the surprised face you're making when he pulls back, sitting up a little further so that he can press his forehead to your own, leaning into your space.

"You' always known me to be an opportunist, Cher. Can't help but steal a kiss here an there." Remy says, and your laugh is partly from disbelief, surprise, and outright giddy joy.

"Please tell me you haven't been waiting to say that since we were kids." You ask. Remy smiles brightly in return.

"My poker face 'not good enough for you, huh, ma chérie?."

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kyri45 · 2 months ago

Text

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 28/09✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: I am going to ask you to make a difficult decision… freenoodles or Shadowpeach

(Freenoodles, in my opinion, is just barely better than shadowpeach. Just because of how gay they are in season five. I mean, look at them and tell me they aren’t married.)

Sooo I go with shadowpeach. Freenoodle is like my comfort shit. so many cute and funny shenanigans, for me they are just the married couple who would probably have the healtiest of the relationship. They have teh experience, they went already throught all the "obliviouss-ness" and the "what if they don't love me" yadda yadda.

But Shadowpeach. Ow man. I thought the ineffable housband ship was complex. but god. oh god. how wrong I was. like- these two went from friends, to brothers, to lovers, to enemies, to friends again and to be lover again. They fucked up so much nothing will ever be the same. But they still weak for each other. They are at each other throat and also they know the other in the most intimate way. they are immortal. One of them fucking killed the other. They thought the other left them and betrayed and went both drama to forget (one choose found family, the other murder but anyway-)

Like- WHAT SHIP CAN BE MORE COMPLEX THAN THIS?????

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does MK have a favorite between his bio parents

oUH NO POOR MONKEYS. He doesn't, but he has a favourite depending on the context. Like, for training he prefers Macaque because he explains a lot better than Wukong, but sparring with Wukong is much funnier, but he prefers Macaque scratches and grooming, but he loves Wukong squeezing hugs, etc...

Anonimo ha chiesto: You know, I just realized something. So you know how people in the fandom give Macaque lotus nicknames since his ears kind of resemble lotus flowers. Well since MK has both Wukong and Macaque's ears that kind of makes MK's ears resemble Peace Lilies (which is kind of ironic since MK is the Harbinger of Chaos)

Aww I guess they do look like them!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I may sound a little to mean but Mk din't suspect a thing aout macaques eye? he has multiple forms were his eye is a cross i mean, i would think smt happend to that eye but that just me uu I LOVE UR ART IT MAKES ME WANT TO KMS /POS

He surely suspected something happened to Mac eye but he didn't know how that happened.

@queen-of-purple-roses ha chiesto: I have a question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t have too; since we’ve seen Macaque feel guilty with how he treated MK in the past, does Monkey King feel guilty about all the dangerous moments that MK was put in, since most if not all of the fighting ends up on MK’s plate and not Wukong’s.

Oh absolutely, the more time passes he feels more and more guilty.

@catbox730 ha chiesto: Can we get more MK and Red Son please

mayyyyyybe. If you guys behave

Anonimo ha chiesto: It would be funny seeing MK‘s dads going to a doctor with him for like getting his wisdom teeth removed or something xD

The parents being extremely worried that something will go wrong while MK is super chill. When the dentist comes out of the operating room they grab him and ask him if he survived while MK is just eating ice cream post-surgery.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will MK ever fight against one of his parents in a serious battle ? Or be forced to fight one of them ?

mmm. Probably. Maybe in the future they have a discussion. Nothing maybe too serious. But not in the AU plans.

What is Wukongs and/or Macaques biggest nightmare(s) I imagine it would be something like seeing MK die or sacrificing himself again or something like that

I think Wukong is more terrified of being alone. So actually I think it would be worse for him that MK doesn't want to see him anymore.

Anonimo ha chiesto: so who is going to be MK‘s hero that he worships ? I don’t know if he still sees Monkey king in that way after finding out that he is basically his dad and hearing the past the fight with Macaque….

Maybe he wont have any hero. Maybe worshipping someone is not such a healthy thing to do. ( I'm not talking in a religious way of course, I meant worshipping a living normal person)

@emmais333 ha chiesto: Love your MK art. One question how many fights from Wukong and Mac does MK overhear on accident

He heard the first one (and the past one through the vision) then Wkong and Mac started to teleport far away enough so he wont be able to hear them discuss.

Anonimo ha chiesto: What if MK catches Mac and Wukong in the act, not visually, but audibly, like hearing it when going to flower feuit mountain, finding the monkeys in a pile, all traumatized. Or is it too soon? Do they get drunk enough to not care? Do they even drink?

in the....act? (sorry I don't understand stuff if it's not explicited said, like I can't understand double meanings if that was what you meant)

Anonimo ha chiesto: I LOVE YOUR STORY, REALLY!!!! I reread a lot. So lovely. And the Baby MK, I just want to hug so badly 🥺 ( I think Macaque become Protecting mode and he won't let me do it. ) You draw Baby MK so so so cute. My heart can't handle it.❤️ Maybe it's a terrifying idea but I would like know your thoughts. I think that Macaque sleeps very quietly, like a man in a coffin. + Macaque fell into a very deep DEEP sleep. (maybe because he was tired from fighting demons to protect Baby MK or get injured or something?) = How do you think Sun Wokung will react?

o my god NO DON'T GIVE HIM AN HEARTH ATTACK (heloses one of their immortalities for having the most horrrendous of jumpscares)

@raspberrymixin ha chiesto: AHHH I LOVE YOU SHADOW PEACH BIO AU OMG ITS TO FREAKEN CUTEEEE AAHH I just melt into a puddle! Love you art and make sure to take breaks- anyway- I find it cute how redson interacts with MK I can just imagine him giving him stuff and little gifts and Mk just confused on why but takes it anyway because of friendship and maybe a sign he's trusting more- but MK is just oblivious to the courting- And maybe redson would ask Wukong, Macaque, Tang or pigsy to allow it maybe? And I also love the slow burn! It's just cute on how Macaque and Wukong make each other blush! Awww it's just to cute! I hope you're doing amazing and have a good night/day

Oh man MK would not be able to read a single clue and just think it's a symbol of friendship or wathever. O my god he really did take from his parents (all of them)

fayeangel25 ha chiesto: YOUUU UFUFFHH WHEN I GET YOUUUUU anyways, I wanna see wukong asking macaque about the story of him and mac ( after mamacaque storytelled his lil baby mk ) , cuz i wanna see more flustered macaque!!! Also, 👏 EATING 👏 THIS 👏 AU 👏 UP!!

Hehe he would be a little shy about it. But Macaque is a theater kid so for a bigger audience I guess he would do it.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like I’m new here. What is Court napping?

Consensual Kidnapping with the intend of flirting with another demon.

Anonimo ha chiesto: How many people want to court MK now that he is a real stone monkey AND the son of Wukong and Macaque ?

mmm. Only people close to MK knows that he's the bio kid of shadowpeach. So for now only Red Son

Anonimo ha chiesto: I bet PIF would try to wait for MK to lose the good guy ‘phase’ since she went through that before lmao (forget being good, convert to villainy in the name of love)

Awwww she would!!! But MK is just too good hearted to hurt a fly. (yeah I know he technically has a kill count still-)

Anonimo ha chiesto: MK would obviously call Pigsy "Papa" so what would MK call Tang and Sandy?

I think he would actually call Pigsy "dad" since it's what he calls him that in the show. Maybe it's Tang that gets to be called Papa. I think Sandy is more like an uncle.

@mage-of-words ha chiesto: When will Wukong purpose to Macaque?

WOW- HOLD ON THERE. LET HIM TAKE HIM TO DINNER FIRST.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Omg I wonder if Macaque and Monkey King ever saw MK get really hurt during a battle with a new demon. RIP the Demon bc two feral Monkeys are after them now bc they hurt their kid.

Them to said demon: So you have choosen.... death.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out, Mac and Wukong in a get along shirt for a day (lost a bet to MK and he planned this too) LOVE YOUR ART TOO ITS SO SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUCIOUS

this is an old ask, sorry for taking so long to answer. But I would say that at this point of the story Wukong would probably be at cloud 9 being squished to super soft macaque all day. Macaque would be like a kitten undecided on wheter he loves or hate the situation (doesn't really likes un-warned physical touch.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hoi there, I found you again! (Following you on Insta as well because your art is awesome ^^)

Reading your LMK ShadowPeaches comics and they are fun. And now my brain can't help but make up scenarios, one like this one. Oh my, MK is a cute little baby! (^///^) Oh my, MK is a little baby!! ('O_O) Welp, Pigsy is going to kill someone unless Wukong gives baby MK into his arms to calm down and be busy being a dad than a raging Hulk. (:P) Also, I imagine MK accidentally shrinking himself, (Wukong decided to play hide and seek with it only to later on regret it). Wukong would freaking out about it, and Macaque then shook him violently while yelling into his face for losing MK. Then out of Nowhere, Nezha shows up at the door frame and be like 'Um, hey guys. Is this yours?' Points at his nose where tiny baby bean MK was, clinging onto Nezha's nose while giggling.

askjajvbks that's a lovely scene! Unfortunately Nehza can't know yet about MK, but maybe he will...

@lara-legomonkiekid 💜:Hey! I'm here to ask permission!Can I make an art Drawing of your Bio parents AU Meeting One of my AU's?Please?(Mostly Suposed to be Meeting One of my OC's!) (Love Your Art and Comics!!!!)(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Yeah sure! just be sure to tag me and link the masterpost of the AU

Anonimo ha chiesto: I find it funny how your shadowpeach bio au came from a joke and now.....wow Your art is amazing

My friend even tried to warn me. BUT I DIDN'T LISTEN

Anonimo ha chiesto: I need Freenoodles talking late at night about MK's new situation Will they be worried? Happy? I don't think Pigsy will take it very well that just when he and MK accepted each other as Father and Son, he is (partly) taken away by his biological dads.

Pigsy was mostly worried that Wukong or Macaque would hurt in any way MK. Both ahim and Tang after they saw how much the 2 care about MK calmed down, still they just hope they don't mess up things.

Anonimo ha chiesto: parenting it not just about having fun with your children, but also making sure there are boundaries even if the child isn’t happy about it. So, how would it go if Macaque and Wukong would try to ground MK 😂

MK is a little old for being grounded I think but if they were to do it maybe with something like no training for a week or smt. He's still an adult (i know we sometimes forget)

Anonimo ha chiesto: MK trying to prank his parents and wake them up with a loud instrument or sound. MK forgetting he has sensitive hearing 💀

reverso uno card

Anonimo ha chiesto: Would wukong or MK help macaque in his drawings if he asked 🙃 or if they tried to help him improve

Awww they would!!! Actually what if this creative side of him was something he kind of inherted from Wukong?

#ask box #shadowpeach bio parents au

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shiinata-library · 5 months ago

Text

Imagine them telling you they love you

Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo's reactions when they tell they love you

A/N: My imagines become more and more ficlets and we now have 4k words of it… Make you comfortable, and enjoy!

[ 📚 Main Imagines Masterlist 📚 ]

Fíli

On a cold winter evening under the lonely mountain, two princes are talking over an ale, one of them in a better mood than the other. “I should never have done that,” you hear Fíli sighs, his face hidden in his arms crossed on a table. “It’s too late, brother,” Kíli laughs as he drinks his ale.

It has been a while since you’re friends in this pub. There is only one pub since the rebuilding of Erebor was still ongoing. The place is busy, and princes or not, Kíli and Fíli drink here every Friday night.

When you entered, you wanted to surprise them and you were waiting for the right moment to join them, but you didn’t expect they would talk about you. Especially about this subject…

“You were drunk, both of you,” Kíli resumes. Fíli gets his head off his arms and sighs again “Drunk or not, you don’t sleep like that with your…”. Someone shouts in the pub while he finishes his sentence. “As if you regret it,” Kíli laughs. “Stop that Kíli!” Fíli shouts seriously.

They should change the subject now, right? But, should you really join them after that? Then you hear “There are things I regret in my life, but this is the worst and you–”. A group of happy dwarves shout a new time their happiness while you freeze. Kíli is looking at you, as surprised as happy to see you. He speaks to his brother while you already start to run away. You don't see Fíli hit the table with his fist even less standing up so suddenly that he spills his beer all over his brother.

You literally run away until you're almost home. In two streets, you will be in the cosy place Thorin gave you under his mountain. Your steps slow down as you realise how stupid you are to think everything could be the same after àthat. You suspected that Fíli avoided you since you spent a night together, and you have your answer. It's clearly unnecessary to talk more to him. It was a mistake. Period.

Maybe it could be different if you could have talked the next morning. If only he wasn’t a prince, he wouldn’t have early duties every morning. Especially when he was in your bed! Who sends a guard to fetch someone in the bed of his… his what anyway? You’re just his friend. Well, “was” now.

When you’re almost arrived at your place, you hear your name shouted from afar. You could recognise this voice everywhere, so you quickly hide in the first street you see. Except that before being a prince, Fíli was a warrior, and you can’t escape a warrior that easily… Even though you take another way to go home, someone grabs your wrist when you arrive at your front door. Of course, it’s Fíli. And not a happy Fíli. Everyone who’s walking in the street is looking at you since everyone knows Erebor’s heir.

“Listen Fíli. I don’t want a drama. Like you said, let’s forget. And if you don't want to see me again, well, I understand,” you say as you try to get back your wrist. “No. We need to talk. Let's inside,” he simply says as he opens your front door and leads you inside.

After lighting a few candles, you put the last one on the table. You barely turn toward Fíli that he is already in front of you, not leaving you the time to say anything. He clears his voice and you notice how he is nervous. You never see him like that. Not even when he speaks to Erebor’s people officially. “First, I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier to talk to you since that night. I had a lot to do but the main reason is I was ashamed.” You repeat the last word he said, unstable to keep your surprise. Yet, he continues, his eyes looking at the candle, “I should never sleep with you. We were drunk.” “Yes, we were drunk, but not enough not to know what we were doing,” you say seriously. His eyes turn now to yours, “Yes, maybe, but I should court you first.” He runs a hand on his face as if it could help him to breathe better while your heart starts to beat stronger. When his eyes come back to you, your heart stops beating. Were his eyes always so mesmerising?

“We, Dwarves, always court their One first. I know Men do differently, but I shouldn’t touch you like that. But your dress… Mahal, you were stunning in this dress that night. I behaved like an idiot… Mahal, I really do blame myself,” he pauses for a breath. A murmur escapes your lips, “their One?”. Something changes in his eyes. You swear they looked at your lips before coming back to your eyes. “Am I your One?” you eventually ask in a quiet tone. “Yes, you are. I have loved you since I saw you. But I also know Men’s mores and I don't expect anything from you,” he declares in a serious, almost sad, tone. “You love me?” you stupidly ask, still stunned by his words.

A smile appears on Fíli’s face. The first smile since that night. A chuckle escapes his lips as his fingers find your cheek, warming it with the memories of what they have done to you. “Are you just going to keep questioning me?” he laughs, his moustache’s braid bouncing. You laugh too, the whole tension vanishing. “Even if I’m of Men, I only sleep with the person I love,” you shyly say. That's all it takes for Fíli to kiss you, this time with all the love he has for you.

Kili

Since you joined Thorin’s company, you have made friends with Fíli and Kíli. The time you enjoy the most is after dinner. They tell stories about their childhood in the Blue Mountains or some anecdotes about everyone while you tell them about your world. Like them, you can’t stay quiet for a long time, so most of the time the others shout at you to go somewhere else to talk. Which you do.

Fíli is always the first to go to sleep. That’s why the others don’t make fun of him when you barely can open your eyes in the morning when it's time to leave…

Talking with them at night has become routine and when you arrive in Rivendell, without having to worry about the next day, you spend your first sleepless nights with them. After some time, Fíli doesn’t stay with you late less and less since Thorin seems to need him more and more in the morning.

As the quest goes on, you can’t speak with Kíli in the evening. Fatigue, injury, watches, cold, danger, it seems that everything is trying to avoid you to enjoy your evening. Little by little, there comes a time when you can’t remember the last time you had a long conversation with Kíli and you miss it terribly. During the day, you make some jokes but it’s not the same.

So, as soon as you’re feeling safe, you can’t keep your tongue, you and of course Kíli. The first night at Beorn after Gandalf introduced everyone, you and Kíli spoke all night. So much time to make up! Fíli joined you for the first hour, but he quickly abandoned you.

The next morning, it takes you some time to remember where you are. You hear some voices from afar, but according to the bright sun, it must be late, especially since everyone is already up. Everyone except Kíli still sleeping next to you. Well… Behind you. His arm around your waist. His hand on your stomach. His head buried in your hair… He is too close, right? You can even feel his breathing in your neck. Should you stay like this? You definitely can’t move without waking him up, and you don’t want to wake up in this position. Especially with your cheek as red as a tomato.

But… Breakfast is calling you. As soon as you try to move his hand, his arm holds you stronger, your back pressed against his hard chest. He eventually grumbles, “Don’t move.” You chuckle, “But they won’t leave us anything to eat.” He laughs too, but doesn't seem to move. You wait, trying to find a good idea to wake him up until he says in a sleepy voice, “I want to wake up like this everyday…”. You stay still a moment before turning to him and joking, “Without breakfast?”. His answer doesn’t wait, “With you. In my arms. Every morning.”

Oh. Well. You want it too, but it sounds complicated, right? A woman of Men, a Dwarf prince. Plus, you’re poor. Oh and useless as well. You still don’t know what you’re doing in this quest.

Tired of waiting for your reaction or your answer, Kíli suddenly sits up, his arms crossed on his chest, his hair in a mess, but above all, his frowning eyebrows. “I was saying that I love you, you know?” he says in an upset tone. “Don’t joke with that Kíli,” you sigh, starting to feel hurt with a joke like this so early on a morning that was starting off so well. He already joked about this in the past, flirting with you randomly. He even already kissed you without saying anything afterward. Well, maybe because you almost died and you didn’t have the time to talk about this but…

“I’m not joking! I truly love you!” Now he’s not frowning, his eyes look sincere. You want to believe him. “But you always joke about that,” you grumble in a pouting face. “Not about this. Never. Amrâlimê, I kissed you after we ran from the gobelins because I was so scared of losing you. I couldn't see you and I thought you had stayed behind. When I saw you, I couldn't control myself…” You stop pouting, hoping he says the truth. “Really?” you ask in a shy tone. “Really,” he confirms, a smile widening on his lips. You can't resist a smile like that. “Because I love you too, and if you lie, I’ll–” Of course you can’t finish your sentence. As soon as Kíli hears your words, he leans over you and kisses you. He begins slowly, barely brushing your lips, but when you kiss him back, his ardour takes over. As one of his hands keeps him from falling on you, the other one begins to touch your hip. Even though you would love to continue, you were thinking of stopping him when the door of your makeship dormitory opens. “It's nearly midday! Time to get up, night owls!” Fíli exclaims until he sees what his brother is doing. “Alright, pretend I didn't come,” he says as he turns towards the door. “But I won't be able to hold the others back for long.” He closes the door behind him, leaving you and Kíli laughing like teenagers caught in the act.

Bilbo

During the quest, you easily became friends with Bilbo. He is a charming person, and you and he have a lot of things in common. Little by little, you understand your feelings for him were more than friendship, but you stayed quiet about it, the quest was too important to think about anything else. After the success of Erebor's quest, Thorin, the new king, offered you and Bilbo to live under the lonely mountain. Bilbo missed too much his home to stay here. Yet, he promised to visit them one day. For you, the choice was harder. The mountain seemed great. You would be glad to help with the rebuilding, but without Bilbo, it wouldn't be the same. So you decide to follow him.

It's obviously impossible for you to live in the Shire, so you have settled in the closest Men’s town: Bree. You have found a correct job and people are nicer than you would have thought. For visiting Bilbo, it's 6 days walking from door to door, but you quickly decided to use a horse. (You really miss trains and buses…) So now you live two days' ride, you visit him when you can. Bilbo offered to visit you in Bree, but with his ponies’ allergy, you prefer coming to the Shire.

The Shire is beautiful, even more than all Bilbo told you during the quest. He always finds something interesting to show you. Hike, food, drink, festivities, landscape, market, watching the sky with Old Toby,... You enjoy every time you spend with him. At first, Hobbits looked at you strangely, but now, you could say you have drank tea with all of Bilbo's neighbours. Lucky for you, the closest inn of Bag End, the Green Dragon Inn, has one room at Men’s size, which you found weird until Bilbo explained it’s usually Gandalf’s room.

One summer evening, you’re dining in that very inn with Bilbo after a long hike in the east, on an outside table, the wind glowing softly on you. “I’m glad you’re here,” Bilbo says as he finishes his meal. “You always worked during the summer’s festivities and I always wanted to see you.” “Oh, no. Don’t tell me it begins tomorrow… But I’m leaving tomorrow!” you sadly sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “I thought you knew,” Bilbo says as it was obvious. “It’s the same dates every year. And you saw the tent and everything under the Party Tree, didn't you?” “I thought it was over... Wait here, I'll check with Mr Whitfoot if I can stay in the room tomorrow night.”

Unlike usual, Bilbo is unable to read your face when you come back to your conversation with Mr Whitfoot, the innkeeper of the Green Dragon. “The bad news is I can’t have the room, but the good news is because Gandalf reserved it,” you smile bitterly, already regretting not going to the summer festivities with Bilbo.

“You can stay at Bag End. I have enough room for you,” he said with a little nervousness in his voice. You notice his embarrassment and you don’t want to impose yourself at his home. “I don't want to disturb you, I’ll think of it tonight and I’ll answer you tomorrow morning,” you explain with a smile. “You won’t disturb me at all, but alright, we’ll talk tomorrow,” he says, finally smiling again like usual.

Of course, you accept to stay at Bag End. The festivities, Gandalf, sleeping in Bag End, just next door to Bilbo’s, waking up together, eating breakfast together, like a married couple. Alright, let’s stop now!

Gandalf is still the same. You spend a part of the night chatting with him and Bilbo, with some other curious young hobbits. At some point, after eating and drinking too much, you both decide to go back to Bag End. The night was very fun – despite Lobelia intervention when she learned you were staying in Bag End. In Bilbo’s smial, you still can hear the laughs and the music from the Party Tree. “You’re sure I can stay here? Your cousin, Lobelia didn’t seem happy about it,” you joke as you’re taking off your shoes. “According to the latest news, Bag End is still my home,” he grumbles as you’re unable to hide your smile, enjoying his reactions every time you talk about Lobelia. “She can say whatever she wants, it’s my home!” He could have grumbled a long time if you hadn’t burst out laughing. “Alright. I get it,” he sighs before laughing with you. You both are tipsy and you continue to laugh until you reach your room.

“If you need anything, I'm just in the room next door,” he smiles as you enter the guest bedroom. If you weren’t as tired and as tipsy, you would have noticed the room has changed. The room is at your size. Both the ceiling and the furniture. “You know your home by heart. I could make tea with my eyes closed!” you laugh, not noticing Bilbo’s cheek becoming pink at your words. “But thank you for letting me sleep here. Nights are not cold, but I never say no to a bed when I can have one!” “You’re welcome. Don’t forget to wake up early if you want breakfast,” he says, smirking. You can’t count how many times you miss the first breakfast in the Shire.

Do you wake up late? Yes. Of course. The bed is so comfortable, the room is so quiet, the smell is so good… with a little touch of bread, tea, jam, egg,... You jump out of the bed and hurry up to the kitchen. Bilbo is smiling, “Good morning.” Has Bilbo been waiting for you? It’s the first time you have breakfast with him since the quest is over, and something feels different now. The table looks so perfect. How many times have you dream of waking up here like that?

“Do you want tea?” he asks as he takes the kettle off the heat. “Good morning,” you murmur as you sit down on a chair at your size. As you’re half-asleep, you don’t notice you’re still in nightdress, light for summer nights, but Bilbo did. Oh, he did, and that’s why he shakes his head as he repeats his question. “Yes, absolutely!” you exclaim with a broad smile. “I never saw a table like that for breakfast! So many dishes! Bombur would be jealous of your cooking skills! I’m glad to be hungry! Everything looks so good! Can I try each plate?” you ask with great enthusiasm, perhaps a little too much. “Oh, sorry. I’m very loud for a morning. It’s rude and annoying…” Bilbo sits in front of you with two cups of tea. Despite your behaviour, he looks happy. The morning rays of light gently illuminate his hair and face. You could easily get used to this every morning...

“Not at all. I've had mornings noisier than this,” he smiles as he sips his tea. “And yes, you can eat everything you want.” “Don’t say that or I’ll really eat everything,” you laugh as you spread jam on your buttered toast. “I don't even have a third of this table in Bree, when I have breakfast. I mean, at home.” You still don’t use to live in Bree as your home.

“I can make breakfast like this whenever you want,” he says in a too serious tone for a morning as you’re savouring one of his cheeses. “I’d love to, but I don’t think I can stay another night. I have to go back to work,” you say, a little sad not to enjoy another night here, and another breakfast. A long silence makes you feel that something is wrong. Bilbo is too quiet for such a morning. You raise your head from your plate to see him looking at his tea, turning his spoon in his cup endlessly. “If you stayed here, you could have breakfast whenever you like,” he says quietly. You’re about to repeat your former answer, but Bilbo doesn’t give you the time to do it.

“I wasn’t talking about tomorrow. I mean, yes, I’d love you to stay tomorrow, but I meant for all the mornings. I mean. Oh Yavanna, I’m ridiculous…” As he talks, he gets so upset that he gets to his feet and comes to stand in front of you, one fist clenched and the other hand pointing at you with his spoon. He breathes a last time before looking at you, his eyes eventually softening. “If you want to, I would love you to live in Bag End with me.”

You’re speechless first. Then, “I can’t. I mean, I’m of Men. No one wants somebody like me here,” you sigh as you look at your feet, feeling your tears welling up. “I want to,” Bilbo says, determined, as he takes your hands. “And I'm sure all the hobbits you know won't object. The whole Shire has realised a long time ago how I felt about you and they've all accepted you already.” “Your feelings?” you suddenly ask, your eyes searching for an answer in his eyes before his words. Yet, his eyes frown. “I wouldn't ask you to move to Bag End if I didn't love you. I'd even offer to make you a breakfast every morning, I don't know what more you need…”

At this point, you can't hold back your laughter. Before his upset face, you react quickly. Pulling on his hands, he steps towards you close enough to feel his fringe caress your forehead. “I need a morning kiss, and I’d stay here forever,” you murmur. His cheeks become redder than ever and his hands become sweaty, but when he decides eventually to kiss you, his lips are softer than you had imagined. Softer and sweeter.

Thorin

Tonight is the first night you spent with Men since Bree. Lack-town is still an unwelcome place for you and the company, but Bard and his family are very nice with you. With Sigrid’s help, you’re warm now and you don’t smell fish anymore. The children are already sleeping as some of the company. You don’t know how to thank Bard since you don’t have money like the others, so you offer your help in the house. After helping Sigrid with the dishes, you ask what you could do, and she explains they have some damaged clothes that need stitching and she has no idea how to do it.

So here you are, sitting in the corner of the table, in the light of a candle, mending some clothes. Everyone is busy with their own business when Thorin sits next to you. You first don’t notice him, focused on your task. He put a warm tea next to you before speaking. “Do you want to be my Queen?” he says, as serious as ever. No one reacts, pretending to be still busy. “Queen of what?” you chuckle, still focused on your task. “Queen of Erebor,” he answers after making sure that Bard was no longer there to listen in. You don’t notice how serious he is, all it takes for him to ask you that here, in front of the others. He is not the type of person who expresses his feelings in front of everyone, so you don’t take it seriously. “But there is no Erebor,” you say, not seeing how troubled he is with your answer. “Not now,” he continues after a long silence in which the crackling of the fire is the loudest sound. “But Erebor will be with us soon.”

A smile appears on your lips as you finish what you have planned before going to sleep. After you take the tea that Thorin gave you, you turn to him. Now you notice how serious he was, how sad his eyes are despite his calm behaviour. You take a moment to repeat the conversation in your head. He is about to stand up when you exclaim, “Wait, wait, wait!” You put your tea on the table, then raise your hands in front you. “You want me as your Queen? Wait. But you. That what you said? But. I’m confused,” you heart is beating too fast to say a correct sentence. When Thorin sees that your hands are shaking, he hesitates to take them. “I know I’m good in organisation and papers, but that shouldn’t be a reason to title me as a Queen. Should you choose someone you love? I thought Dwarves only chose to spend their life with their One. Oh, maybe royalty doesn’t work like that.”

A laugh echoes in the room. Bofur gets Thorin's blackest look of his life. But for you, his eyes are sparkling and a smile eventually appears on his lips. A genuine smile. “That's correct. I want my One as my Queen,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. Now your cheeks are burning and you stop breathing. Do you really properly understand what he is saying?

You try to say something, but your words are blocked in your throat. Staying with your mouth open makes the future king chuckling. At the end of the room, you hear two dwarves sneezing exaggeratedly, “Heiswaitingforananswer” then “Notinthreedays”. Fíli and Kíli earn the same look as Bofur, but you don’t see it. As you only realise everyone in the room is looking at you, you suddenly stand up. Understanding you, Thorin stands up too, takes your hand and leads you outside.

As it’s dark and late, no one would see you, but the most preoccupying thing is the cold. Before you say anything, Thorin puts his jacket on your shoulders. “Tell me if you’re cold,” he says seriously, but his jacket is so warm that you already forget about the weather. “Do you really mean it? Why do you think I’m your One?” you shyly ask as you close the too big jacket on yourself, taking advantage to hide your burning cheeks. When you look back to him, you’re surprised to discover a new facet of Thorin. An (cute) embarrassed Thorin is in front of you. “Mahal, how should I tell you?” he begins as he runs a hand on his face, stopping on his mouth. “I know you're my One because I love you. And this is why I want you to be my Queen.” He swallows his saliva with difficulty, waiting for an answer from you that doesn't seem to be coming. “But maybe my feelings for you are not mutual, and if I offend you in any way, I apologise,” he says as his eyes sadden gradually.

“No!” you eventually cry out as you grab his hands, surprisingly warm. You already touch them a few times, but never like that. “It’s mutual. Your feelings. I mean my feelings,” you sigh, trying to compose yourself. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this in this Men’s town when we’re almost at Erebor, but–” He cuts you off, “I don’t want you to stay here with your kin. I saw how you look at the town and… that man.” You frown, firstly because he stopped you while you were talking, secondly because he doesn’t trust you. “What man?” “The one who lets us stay in his house,” he grumbles.

“If you let me talk, Thorin Oakenshield, you would know that I love you too, since the first time I saw you! About Lake-town, I know nobody here. They are not my kin. The company is my family now!” you hurry to say before the conversation takes a bad turn. You truly love him from the start, but you obviously never hoped for anything. “Are you sure I’m your One?” you ask again, making him eventually smile. He realises one of your hands to run his in your hair. “I've never been so sure of anything,” he tenderly says. As he looks for a place for a braid, you can’t remain motionless. A step is enough to access his lips and you take that step. At the beginning, you feel Thorin’s surprise, but it quickly progresses into a sweet, lovely kiss under a snowy night.

#the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit imagine #thorin x reader #bilbo x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #fluff #love declaration

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sound-of-scoups · 1 month ago

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Moth To A Flame | JJK & KMG | 01

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader x Kim Mingyu Genre|tags: Idol!au, series, established relationship, infidelity, love triangle, lots of angst, lots of drama, smut, fluff. Word count: 9.2k+ Rating: Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI). Chapter warnings: A LOT of angst and tension, explicit language, sexual innuendos, kissing. Lemme know if there's more. A/N: I’m so happy it’s finally out!!! Just a few notes: I don't want to specify an exact date, but the events take place mostly during the second half of 2022, during the PROOF and Face the Sun/SECTOR 17 eras. Also, I'm not exactly sure how many chapters this fic will have, but possibly around 10 to 15 (if i can help it). That’s it! Enjoy the reading and let me know what you think!! Tags: @cherrylovescheol, @lovingkoalaface, @whoa-jo, @marihoneywk

Summary: Four years ago, you crossed paths with a charming member of the K-pop group Seventeen during their tour stop in Osaka. The two of you shared three intense, unforgettable days before life took you in different directions. It was painful for both of you, but you knew you couldn’t take things any further and had to say goodbye. Now, back in Seoul for good, you’re in a new relationship with another idol: Jeon Jungkook—whose charm and stability make him everything you thought you wanted. You are very much in love with him, and as your connection deepens, it feels like your life is finally falling into place. That is, until you meet one of your boyfriend’s best friends and are stunned to discover it’s the same man you fell for in Osaka all those years ago. As buried emotions resurface and secrets begin to unravel, you find yourself torn between these two men, caught in a whirlwind of love and conflict, testing the boundaries of loyalty and the choices that could change everything.

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Your phone buzzed on the dresser as you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the strap of your dress for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. You knew it was a message from Jungkook, probably wondering where you were since it was half past nine and you were already late.

Nice way to make a good first impression, you thought to yourself, staring back at your reflection in the mirror, a mix of excitement and nerves creeping in your chest.

Jungkook had chosen the dress himself. It was simple yet elegant, a mid red velvet dress—his favorite color on you—with a slight sheen and floral embossed details. The dress has a V-neckline and it’s fitted to the body, creating an elegant and sophisticated fit, perfect for the night. Over the dress, you chose to threw a black leather jacket, which added a cool touch to the look, contrasting with the delicacy of the dress and looking very chic overall.

You took a step back, after applying a final coat of the deep red shade lipstick, smoothing the fabric of the dress one last time as you studied your reflection in the mirror once more.

If you were being honest with yourself, you had spent more time getting ready than usual, wanting everything to be perfect.

Tonight marks six months since you and Jungkook started dating, a milestone you both had eagerly awaited. From the moment you met while temporarily working for HYBE as a stylist for BTS’s PTD on Stage first show in Seoul, back in october, you knew it was meant to be. When he started shamelessly flirting while you tried to adjust his clothes, you knew you were a goner. And in the 182 days since he kissed you at 2 a.m. by the Han River, the two of you have been through so much together.

You’ve already done almost everything and anything, absolutely ignoring when everyone said not to rush into things, since you’re both so young. Plans for the far future, matching tattoos, and considering how much time you spent at his place, basically living together. You can name it and find out what you've already done. HYBE already knew about your relationship, and you spent ninety percent of your time together, except when you were both working. He already knew your family and closest friends, and you also knew his mom, dad and brother, his members and most of his friends from school and the industry.

Well, all except the infamous 97 line. Which basically was your task for tonight.

You had never met them before, or at least not all of them. However, tonight that would change, as Jungkook had arranged a dinner and drinks to introduce you to them. And from the moment everything was agreed upon, the thought of making a good impression had your stomach in knots. Jungkook was everything to you, and all you wanted was to be perfect for him—to be the woman who would fit seamlessly into his world.

You really did love him. It was a thought that both comforted and anchored you all day, keeping you steady despite the nervous feeling creeping in your stomach as you finished getting ready. During the time you’ve been together, you've fallen hard for Jungkook, his kindness, his humor, the way he made you feel safe and cherished. He became your world. He’s kind and thoughtful manners, the way he treated you like you were the most important person in his life.

Jungkook had been nothing short of amazing and you loved him deeply.

But that was not the only thing on your mind tonight. There was something else, something you hadn’t been able to push away no matter how hard you tried. Or rather, someone.

Of course you knew the guys who were part of 97 line—you didn’t live under a rock. For Christ’s sake, you also work for the entertainment industry; it’s basically part of your job to know who they are. And even if they weren’t who they are, Jungkook never stops talking about him specifically. He’s already shown you dozens of photos of the two of them and their adventures during Seoul’s nights.

It had been months since you realized that Mingyu from Osaka was also Jungkook’s Mingyu.

The worst part, however, was that you hadn’t had the heart to tell him. You knew how angry he would be, how fiercely he loved you, and how much he disliked the idea of sharing anything, especially you; what was his was his only. So, yes, you were terrified of what would happen if he found out. You simply couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, not when you loved him so much, and not when what you had together was the best thing that had happened to you since you set foot in Seoul again.

That’s the only reason you had kept it to yourself this entire time, knowing this moment would come eventually and you would have no way to escape it, only hoping you could get through the night without Mingyu causing any trouble. You knew he was a discreet guy, and it wasn’t like you were going to see each other every single day anyway from now on.

Your phone buzzed on the dresser one more time, pulling you out of your thoughts. As you have guessed before, it was another text from Jungkook.

You smiled, the warmth of his words soothing your nerves, if only a little. Jungkook was the reason you were doing this, the reason you face tonight despite the anxiety gnawing at you. And tonight was about him, and you were determined to make it nice and easy.

So you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you muttered to yourself, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It's just one night.”

Grabbing your purse, you took one last look in the mirror, and headed out the door. Even though it's not that far from your house, the cab ride to the restaurant felt shorter than you expected, your anticipation growing with each passing minute.

Earlier in the day, Jungkook had insisted on picking you up, but you refused. You ended up working late—your temporary job as an editorial stylist for Elle Magazine had taken more of your time than expected—and you didn’t want to make him late as well. So, you told him you’d take a taxi and assured him it would be fine. But even so, you could tell he wasn’t completely convinced. He'd texted you several times throughout the evening, double-checking that you were okay and reminding you to let him know once you were on your way.

When you arrived, you spotted Jungkook immediately, staging outside the entrance with a wide grin on his face. He looked effortlessly handsome in his dark gray Calvin Klein shirt and dark jeans, his dark hair tousled in that way you loved.

As soon as he sees you getting out of the cab, his entire face lights up.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted you, bunny smile on full display as he pulled you into his arms to a warm hug, nose immediately dragging against the column of your neck, “I missed you.”

“Hi, handsome,” you replied, a teasing smile on your lips, nerves easing slightly with his touch as you melted completely into his embrace. “It's only been eight hours, babe.”

He shrugs. "What can I say? I don’t think I can last much longer without you, babe." Taking his face from the crook of your neck, Jungkook smiles, leaning down to kiss you softly. You sunk into the kiss, his familiar warmth making you feel safe and more at ease. “Happy six months.”

“Happy six months, baby,” you replied between kisses.

When you finally pulled away, he kept you close, both hands on each side of your hips, an amused smirk pulling up at the corner of his lips. “You look incredible. Can’t wait to take this dress off of you.”

Your arms rested on his shoulders, circling his neck. “Mhmm… you don’t look so bad yourself.” He smelled really nice too, a wood and ocean scent that was distinctly his. “I have a surprise for you underneath this.”

"Don’t do this to me, doll,” he groaned in complaint, his voice almost sounding like a whimper. “I’d ditch those guys for you in a second.”

His lips met your jaw, trailing a path down to your neck. “And I wouldn't complain.”

You heard someone clear their throat, noticing a lady on the sidewalk staring at you with an unfriendly expression. You giggled, finally pulling away but staying close enough for him to drape his arm around your waist.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t wait for you to meet them,” he sounded way too excited, his doe eyes sparkling with joy. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you said with a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the lingering jitters.

“They’re going to adore you, I promise,” he said, squeezing your waist reassuringly.

Jungkook led you into the restaurant, his hand gently resting on the small of your back. The place was cozy and intimate, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the tables—the exact kind of spot you’d expect idols to gather for this kind of get-together. You could hear the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses as you made your way to the back of the room toward a large table where a group of eight guys were already seated and chatting animatedly.

As you weaved through the maze of tables, your nerves began creeping back in, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached the table. You forced yourself to focus on Jungkook, on the fact that he was here with you, and that tonight was more about him than anything else. But as your eyes scanned the faces at the table, you couldn't help but search for the one you were dreading most.

“They’re just over here,” Jungkook said, bringing you out of your thoughts as you approached the group.

And then you saw him.

Heart skipping a beat and breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on the man sitting at the far end of the table, his eyes downcast as he filled his glass with a cabernet liquid.

The man you never expected to see again in your life.

Kim Mingyu.

The sight of him was like a punch to the gut, the air in the room suddenly feeling too thick, too heavy. The world around you blurred, your vision narrowing to just him—the man who had occupied your thoughts for so long after Osaka four years ago, the one you had tried and failed to forget.

It felt like slow motion as all eyes turned to you, and Mingyu slowly looked up from his drink, following suit with the rest of the guys.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes locked with his. A flicker of recognition crossed his gaze, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly masked his surprise with a neutral expression. Even though you knew he would be there, nothing could have prepared you for the rush of emotions that surged the moment your eyes met.

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you breathless and frozen in place. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, the noise of the restaurant fading into the background, and all you could hear was the rapid beating of your heart.

Mingyu held your gaze, a slow, knowing smile curving his lips. In that moment, a jolt of electricity shot through your body—a mix of fear, guilt, and something else, something you didn’t want to name.

“Everyone,” Jungkook’s voice cut through the haze in your mind, pulling you back to the present. “This is Y/N, the amazing woman I’ve been telling you all about, and the love of my life.”

Jungkook’s tone was joyful and proud as he kissed your cheek. You tore your eyes away from Mingyu, forcing a smile and trying to steady your breathing. Meeting the gazes of the guys around the table, you spoke, your voice steadier than you felt. “Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you all.”

“Babe, this is Yugyeom, Bambam, Chan, Eunwoo, Jaehyun, Seokmin, Minghao… and Mingyu,” Jungkook introduced, oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Mingyu stood up almost immediately, one of his long legs hitting the edge of the table, causing the silverware to rattle. He offered you a polite smile, but you noticed the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes avoided yours as he reached out to shake your hand across the table.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N,” he said, his voice calm and measured, as though nothing was out of the ordinary, giving nothing away.

Your hand trembled slightly as you shook his, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through your body that you desperately tried to ignore. Heart racing, you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you forced a smile, “You too, Mingyu.”

Clenching your teeth, you fought against the shiver that coursed through your body, your nipples hardening despite your will. Memories flooded back in flashes, like a kaleidoscope of moments—the way his fingers felt inside you, on you, touching and caressing, guiding you to most the earth-shattering nights of your life.

Your hands lingered together for just a moment, you mind racing as you tried to gauge his reaction. Was he going to say something? Did he really remember you?

The rest of the introductions faded into a blur. As everyone took their seats, you found yourself sitting directly across from Mingyu, the small proximity only heightened your awareness of him. You could feel his gaze on you, even though he was careful not to let it linger too long.

Jungkook sat beside you, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh under the table—a gesture that usually made you feel secure. But tonight, it felt like a reminder of the terrible situation you had suddenly found yourself in.

You now hated yourself for not saying something to Jungkook before tonight.

Of course, you hadn’t known Jungkook when Mingyu came into your life, but now that you knew both of them, shouldn't you have said something?

And what would you even say?

That his best friend had once stirred feelings in you so intense that they haunted you? That you spent years trying to erase the memory of his touch? That all those years ago, it was as if Mingyu hadn’t just claimed your body but your soul?

A wave of nausea hit you suddenly, and you swallowed hard, trying to push it down.

As the conversation flowed around, you tried to focus on the others, to be present in the moment. You had to keep yourself occupied, or your sanity would begin to fray. And the other boys were more than happy to help you with that. They were very kind, funny and welcoming, and despite your tension, you found yourself slowly warming up to them.

Jaehyun was charming and amusing; Seokmin was full of energy, making you feel more at ease with his laid-back attitude; Eunwoo was sweet but a little shy; Chan was outgoing and warm-hearted; Yugyeom was bubbly, relentlessly teasing Jungkook throughout dinner, while Bambam was clearly the life of the group—loud, hilarious, and making you laugh with his playful banter and jokes, easing some of the tension you’d been carrying since you arrived. Minghao, on the other hand, was more subdued but quick-witted, throwing in sarcastic comments and showing a genuine interest in you.

They all seemed genuinely happy to meet you, and you found yourself laughing at their stories, trying to relax.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Bambam asked. “We gotta know if you’re doing something cooler than us.”

You chuckled softly. “Right now I'm between jobs. I mainly work as a tour stylist, but recently I’ve started getting into some editorial work too, for Elle Magazine.”

"Oh, so you know Chaeyoung?" Eunwoo asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Chaeyoung?" you echoed, unsure.

"Rosé, babe," Jungkook leaned in and whispered.

"Oh, right! Yeah, I was responsible for her outfits in the Elle June issue. We spent the whole day together—she’s really sweet."

"She's part of our group too," Jungkook explained with a grin, "but you'll meet the girls another day."

"They're a separate event," Jaehyun joked and you laughed.

“What do you like more? Touring or editorial?” Yugyeom asked, looking genuinely interested.

“Touring, definitely,” you replied, your face lighting up as you spoke about your job. "It’s incredible, and I get to do the other thing I love most—traveling."

“Wow,” Seokmin outed, sounding genuinely impressed. “What do you do when artists go on tour?”

“The months prior to a tour I coordinate the designers and do the talks with brands for custom pieces or partnerships," you began to explain. “During the tour, I oversee the team of dresses who help with costume changes and ensure costumes are functional for performances.”

“She’s so much cooler than you, Jungkook-ah.” Bambam said, pointing at Jungkook, who just shrugged.

“I can't argue with that.”

“What artists have you worked with?” Chan piped in, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Mostly westerners. Little Mix, Dua Lipa, Ariana Gran—”

“So how did you two meet?” The question came up suddenly from the far end of the table, interrupting what you were saying and making your breath catch.

You shifted your gaze toward Mingyu, who leaned across the table with his eyebrows arched, head resting in the palm of his hand. Curiosity—and something more—sparkled in his eyes. Until that moment, he had been the picture of composure, engaging in conversation easily, his voice smooth and confident as he chatted with Jungkook and the other guys, but never with you.

Right now, however, you could see the tension in his jaw and the way the muscles in his forearm flexed, fingers tightened around his wine glass as he said, “Jungkook’s been pretty quiet about it, keeping us all in suspense.”

You hesitated for a moment, his tone sharp and unsettling, the bluntness of his question throwing you off balance. It was exactly the conversation you'd been avoiding, knowing it could lead to Mingyu prying into things you weren’t ready to share in his presence.

You glanced at Jungkook, who smiled encouragingly and gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze under the table.

“Well, we actually met when I was working temporarily with BTS during the PTD on Stage shows here in the city," you said, keeping your voice steady, though inside you were bracing yourself. You turned your attention to your boyfriend’s face, forcing yourself not to let Mingyu's presence intimidate you, though it was becoming harder with every passing second. "It was supposed to be just for those shows, but I ended up staying with them until PTD in Las Vegas.”

“HYBE really loved her work, but I think I loved it more than anyone,” Jungkook said with a big smile, his hand gently caressing the inside of your thigh. His eyes met yours, and you exchanged a warm smile. “We got to talk one night after one of the concerts in LA, and…”

“It just felt right,” you concluded, smiling at the man on your left.

“Wow,” Yugyeom said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You couldn’t help but notice how similar his smile was to Jungkook’s—very bunny-like. “That sounds like something out of a drama.”

“Doesn’t it?” Jungkook said rhetorically, his eyes never leaving your face.

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth in his gaze. “I guess it does. Life has a funny way of writing its own scripts.”

Tonight was the greatest proof of that, you thought, as Mingyu's gaze seared into the left side of your face.

You stole a glance in his direction, catching him watching you closely. His expression was unreadable, but the tense set of his jaw gave you all the confirmation you needed—his own question had backfired, and this conversation was clearly affecting him, and not in the "I’m-happy-for-my-best-friend" kind of way.

Then he abruptly turned his attention away when Minghao leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

"She’s got a point," Jungkook said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk as he pointed at Eunwoo. "You’ve probably started enough dramas to know how this plays out, huh?"

The man chuckled. "To be honest, it does sound like fate.”

Jungkook glanced at you with a smile that made your heart flutter even more. But before you could respond to Eunwoo, Mingyu’s voice cut in, accompanied by a wry smirk. “Real cinematic. Almost too good to be true, right?”

“It really was kind of perfect,” Jungkook said, smiling down at you again and completely oblivious to his friend's ironic tone."Fate or not, I’m just glad it happened."

The boys instantly started imitating Jungkook’s voice, making obnoxious noises and exaggerated smooching sounds. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the way Mingyu’s words lingered above you, heavy with unspoken meaning.

His eyes remained fixed on you, but he leaned back in his chair, feigning casual interest. “I see. Well, it’s surprising that you didn’t run into us at the concert here in Seoul, too, since we were there. I guess fate decided to keep things interesting.”

Once again, his words were tinged with irony, and though he didn’t directly address it, the implication was clear as the day for you. Your heart raced as you fought to maintain your composure.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Just then, Jaehyun flashed you a warm smile and asked, “So, Y/N, are you from around here?”

You shook your head. “No, actually. I’m originally from Gwangju, but I lived in the UK for almost my entire life before deciding to move back here.”

“Really?” Jaehyun said, clearly intrigued. “What brought you back?”

“Just felt like the right time,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Sometimes you need a change of pace, you know?”

Jaehyun nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. It’s nice to have a fresh start every now and then.”

"How many countries have you visited while working?” Yugyeom asked, taking your focus off Jaehyun. “Must be nice traveling to so many places."

"Oh, it is. There are so many places that I couldn't name them all at once. The last time I was in Brazil with–”

“Have you ever been to Osaka, Y/N?” Sensing an opening, Mingyu threw the question at you, his eyebrows raised, your name rolling out of his tongue slowly. His smirk didn’t waver as he leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with the kind of knowledge only the two of you shared. “Osaka is really nice.”

You winced at the chill in his words, desperately searching his eyes for the tenderness that once resided in those brown depths. But all you found were dark, empty eyes that swiftly brought back memories of your time together.

Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat, the memory of those three days in Osaka flashing through your mind like a neon sign in the dark. He didn’t mention it—he wouldn’t—but the way he phrased the question made it clear what was hovering between the two of you. You didn’t know what game Mingyu wanted to play tonight, but it was suddenly driving you crazy.

Everyone at the table turned their eyes to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, since he brought up Osaka out of nowhere.

It was Bambam who voiced the question. “Osaka? She just said she was in Brazil, and you're stuck in Osaka?” he laughed. “You’ve been to Osaka hundreds of times, bro. Let’s hear about Brazil, please.”

Throughout the rest of the dinner, conversation and laughter filled the air. You tried your best to focus, to be present and engaged, but it didn’t matter how hard you tried, it was difficult to concentrate. Your mind kept drifting back to Mingyu, the tension between you palpable, even though neither of you acknowledged it. The others made you feel at ease, but Mingyu’s presence cast a shadow over your excitement.

And as if his mere presence wasn’t enough to overwhelm you, his smooth gestures and deep, husky laughter stirred memories you were desperately trying to forget.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes burning into you, now and then. Every so often, you would catch Mingyu looking at you, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he looked away. And every time your eyes met across the table, it sent a jolt through your system; your heart skipped a beat again and again, your mind a whirlwind of emotions, a jumbled mess of past and present. You couldn’t believe this was happening—of all the people in the world, Mingyu had to be Jungkook’s best friend.

It was so obvious that you weren’t the only one affected by this. You could see the tension in Mingyu’s shoulders, the way he kept his responses short, his attention drifting elsewhere. He was as shaken by this unexpected reunion as you were, and knowing that only made you feel more unsettled.

You loved Jungkook so much, you reminded yourself over and over. You were with him now, and that was all that mattered.

“Jungkook’s been so happy since you two got together,” Eunwoo leaned in closer, lowering his voice beneath the hum of conversation. His warm gaze focused on you as he whispered, grounding you again. “It’s really nice to see.”

A lump rose in your throat, the warmth of Eunwoo’s words a sharp contrast to the cold tension swirling inside you. Forcing a smile, you replied, “He makes me really happy too. The happiest, actually.”

It was true—you knew that. But right now, it felt like you were trying to convince yourself more than reaffirm it, and you hated yourself for it.

As the night went on, the tension in your chest never eased. It felt like guilt was eating you alive. Maybe you were overreacting—after all, it wasn’t like you had any feelings for Mingyu anyway. Maybe you should have told Jungkook from the start. Maybe he wouldn’t have reacted the way you feared, and everything would have been fine. The two of you would have laughed at the coincidence, and life would have gone on.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But now it was too late, you thought to yourself—you were already here. You and Mingyu had already spent most of the night pretending you didn’t know each other, as if nothing extraordinary had happened four years ago. There was no way Jungkook wouldn’t find the situation strange.

Did that make you a cheater? You had wrestled with the question through the night, guilt gnawing at you, even if there was no betrayal in the technical sense.

This wasn’t the kind of thing you could confess without destroying everything. It wasn’t something you could admit even to yourself without breaking. But the memory clung to you, no matter how hard you tried to bury it. And the weight of it was unbearable now, sitting in a room with both of them, feeling like you were betraying Jungkook just by being reminded of a past you could never speak of.

Not with him, anyway.

Sitting among your boyfriend's friends in silence, you felt like the worst person in the world. Although the rest of dinner flowed with lighthearted conversation, your heart raced every time Jungkook brought up something about your relationship that could give Mingyu space for interrogation.

And that continued until the conversation suddenly shifted.

“So, Mingyu, you still haven’t spilled the details about what went down between you and Sanghee," Yugyeom said, turning all eyes toward his friend. “Spill, already.”

"Who’s Sanghee?" Bambam mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

“She’s that friend I set him up with on a blind date about three weeks ago," Yugyeom explained and all of a sudden, it seemed like the whole table had remembered a very important topic to be discussed: Mingyu’s love life. “She’s a dancer for YG.”

You took a long sip of your wine, trying to drown the strange knot tightening in your stomach. A confusing mix of warmth and bittersweet unease creeping through your veins, leaving you momentarily disoriented.

Jealousy? Seriously?

The thought hit you like a wave, catching you off guard. You had no reason to feel this way, but the unsettling twinge in your chest was undeniable. You shook your head, trying to push the feeling aside. You didn’t even know him anymore. It wasn’t fair to you or him to be feeling this way. But most of all, it wasn’t fair to Jungkook. Yet the thought of Mingyu being with someone else had every muscle in your body tensing, rejecting the idea completely in a crazy possessive way.

"Wait, you're dating again?" Jungkook asked, genuinely surprised and you lowered your gaze to your plate, trying to tune out the conversation, even though a part of you wondered what he meant with again. "I had no idea, man. That's good for you!"

Mingyu’s tone was sharp, clearly meant as a jab, as he replied to your boyfriend. "Well, of course you wouldn't know. We’ve barely seen you these past six months."

"But for a good reason, so you're off the hook," Seokmin said with a wink in your and Jungkook’s direction, quickly easing the tension. "Anyway, it's awesome that Mingyu's getting back into dating. Four years is a long time."

You froze, a chill running through you. That couldn't be right. You must've misheard.

Slowly, you lifted your head, just in time to catch Minghao wrapping an arm around Mingyu, as if offering quiet support. "He had to move on eventually, you know."

"Seriously, dude," Eunwoo chimed in, shaking his head. "I’m starting to think that girl you met in Osaka is a figment of your imagination. No way you’d stay hung up for four years over someone you only spent three days with."

Mingyu’s face flushed, and it was obvious he knew you were staring—he avoided your gaze, and for the first time tonight, he was looking everywhere but at you. Still, you couldn’t help but watch him from beneath your lowered lashes, struggling to make sense of your feelings right now.

To your surprise, he glanced your way for just a second before turning his attention back to the guys.

"Could you all shut up for a moment?" His gaze landed on Jungkook, then Yugyeom. "And no, I'm not dating again. Sanghee was a little annoying, to be honest. She only wanted to talk about things that didn't interest me”

Yugyeom let out an exasperated sigh, throwing his head back. "You’re way too damn picky, man. Seriously, just choose someone and date them already!"

"I'm not picky, I just know what I want." He leaned back in his chair with a casual shrug and turned his gaze to you. You quickly looked away, but he pressed on. "I've already said it: I'm looking for someone I can genuinely connect with. Someone kind-hearted and easy-going."

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like the girl from Osaka."

Mingyu shrugged. "Exactly like her."

You swallowed hard, leaning your head against your boyfriend's shoulder, using him as support to try to erase the thoughts racing through your mind at full speed.

What the fuck was going on and why was he saying all these things?

"Mingyu met a girl in Osaka, like, five years ago? And he's never shut up about her since," Jungkook whispered, trying to include you in their conversation. "He hardly ever dates anyone because of her, so it’s always a reason to celebrate."

You forced a smile, bringing the glass to your lips as you replied, "She seems like a special girl."

Jungkook smiled softly at you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I bet she is.

The conversation went on and then shifted, turning to the new drama Eunwoo was preparing to film over the summer. When dessert was served, you excused yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect your thoughts and breathe. You slipped quietly out of your chair, walking down the dimly lit hallway outside the restroom, your heart still racing as you closed the door behind you.

You immediately leaned against the sink, gripping its edge tightly as you stared at your reflection, your pulse thrumming in your ears as you cursed loudly. “Fuck.”

What the hell was going on? Why was Mingyu trying to confuse you with all these things, after everything that happened the morning he left Osaka? What did he stand to gain from this? He was the one who set the boundary, who made it clear that the past needed to stay buried. So why now, of all times, was he stirring it all back up? None of it made sense, and the more you tried to piece it together, the more it felt like the ground was shifting beneath your feet.

You loved Jungkook. You knew that. You were in love with him, with the life you had begun to build together. The perfect bubble you had created around yourselves, one that no one seemed able to burst. You’d spent six months like this—entwined in each other as if your very lives depended on it—and even now, you were still eager to celebrate this milestone by yourselfs the moment you step out of here.

Yet, seeing Mingyu tonight took a toll on you.

There had always been something about him, something intangible that tugged at your soul in ways you could never fully explain. Now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite remember what it was. It was maddening; the way the memory of him from four years ago slipped through your fingers all night, yet still sent your mind spinning uncontrollably. Deep down, you knew it was the same force that had once made your heart surrender so easily, the same pull that left you defenseless all those years ago.

You splashed water on your face, hoping to wash away your thoughts, trying desperately to clear your mind and come to your senses. But no matter how cold the water was, the anxious feelings remained, stubborn and unshakable.

Drying your face with a towel, you tossed it into the basket and took a deep breath. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to pull yourself together before heading back out there to face the rest of the evening with nothing but a big, stupid smile on your face, doing what you seemed so good at: pretending.

You stayed in the bathroom a few more minutes, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the flush that had risen as you steadied your breathing. You needed to get back to Jungkook as soon as possible—back to the reality you had chosen, back to celebrating your six-month anniversary together with his friends.

But as soon as you rounded the corner, you almost collided with a solid figure.

“Whoa!” you exclaimed, stumbling back slightly before steadying yourself. “I’m sorry, I—”

You stopped talking immediately when you looked up and met the one person you least wanted to see right now. Panic coursed through you, and you instinctively dodged, forcing yourself to start walking again without saying a word.

But you were quickly halted when a hand landed on your forearm. The sudden touch sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of surprise and an unwanted spark of familiarity that you couldn't shake off. It was the faintest brush against your arm, but the sensation lingered, sending your pulse into a wild rhythm.

How could such a small touch feel so electric?

You quickly pulled your arm away, but didn’t take a step, frozen in place with him just behind you.

“Y/N,” Mingyu whispered, his voice husky in urgency. “Can we talk?”

Your heart sank. The last thing you wanted was to be cornered right now, especially after everything that had been said at the table just a couple of minutes ago.

Slowly, you turned to face him, heart racing as a flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm you just by a single touch. In that moment, all the thoughts you had tried to suppress tonight came rushing back, and you found yourself caught between the instinct to flee and the magnetic pull of his presence.

“I… I really can’t,” you replied, voice firm but slightly wavering.

“Please,” he said, stepping closer, the intensity of his gaze making it hard for you to breathe. “I just need a moment. Just to talk.”

You shook your head no, mind fighting with all the reasons why this was a terrible idea. “Mingyu, it’s not a good time. I’m with Jungkook, and—”

“I know you’re with him,” he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “But that’s not what this is about. It’s about us.”

“What happened is in the past,” you stated, feeling a rush of frustration. “This won't change just because we ran into each other.”

His expression softened, a mixture of regret and longing. “It’s not that simple, and you know it. We…”

He stopped talking for a moment and for a second, just stood there, his gaze fixed on your face with intensity. He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you it was as if he hadn’t really seen you until this moment. His eyes roamed over your face, down to the way the red dress clung to your body, and back up again, like he was memorizing every inch of you, like you was something he couldn’t quite believe was real.

Your pulse thumped loudly in your ears. The proximity between you was unbearable. He was too close, his scent too familiar, the memories flooding back with every breath taken as if the ones that haunted you through this night weren't enough.

It had been four years, but suddenly it felt like it had all happened yesterday.

Mingyu stepped closer, so close now that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Your breath caught in your throat, your pulse thudding wildly as his eyes met yours once again. There was something in his gaze, something raw and unspoken, that made the air between you hum with electricity. He was looking at you like he’d been waiting all night just to get this close, like being in the same room hadn’t been enough until now.

“You…” Mingyu’s voice was rough, almost strained, his eyes never leaving yours. “You look… different.”

“Mingyu…” you started, but your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say.

You knew what he meant. It wasn’t about the dress or the fact that your hair had grown long since the last time you had seen each other. He meant something deeper, something you both felt but neither could acknowledge. As you met his gaze, the weight of that understanding settled over you.

“You… look good,” he said, his voice quieter than before, but it still carried the same roughness that sent a shiver down your spine.

You smiled softly, tilting your head to the side. You wanted to say so many things to him, but all that could come out of your lips was, “Thank you. You look good too.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy with everything you couldn’t say. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the flicker of hope clouded by the reality of your lives now.

“Mingyu,” you started, unsure of how to express the conflict inside you. “Listen, I…”

But before you could finish, somebody turned around the corner, interrupting your moment, making you jump slightly. Your heart started racing again, the reality of your situation crashing back down on you. Anticipation clenched in your stomach. You had to get out of here.

“Minghao. Hi.”

Minghao smiled at both of you immediately, stopping in his tracks, his curious gaze locking onto yours. “Sorry about that,” he said with a chuckle, stepping aside to let you pass. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine.” You said, mirroring his smile. “No worries.”

Then you made a move to walk past him, eager to return to the safety of the dinner table, to Jungkook, but Minghao didn’t let you go so easily. His eyes narrowed slightly as he asked, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just needed to freshen up.” You replied, glancing toward the dining area of the restaurant where you could hear Jungkook’s voice and the others still laughing, still blissfully unaware of the storm that had just brewed in your mind.

“Are you two okay?” Minghao asked, glancing between you with a raised eyebrow.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

He didn't look convinced. “Did I interrupt something?”

“We’re just catching up,” Mingyu replied, his expression shifting, the vulnerability from moments ago replaced by a guarded look. The casualness in his voice stood in stark contrast to the heaviness that had hung between you seconds earlier. “I had to know if she passed the test to be Jungkookie's girlfriend.”

Mingyu let out a light laugh as he spoke and Minghao nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. There was a curious glint in his eyes, as if he were trying to piece something together. He studied your face intently, his brows furrowing in thought, like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

“You know,” he started, his voice thoughtful, “you look really familiar. Have we met before?”

Your breath caught in your throat, heart skipping a beat for what it felt like the hundredth time this evening. The way he said it, the way his eyes held yours—it sent a chill down your spine. The distant familiarity in his eyes unsettled you all of a sudden, and you felt a knot tighten in your stomach.

You quickly glanced at Mingyu, then back at Minghao, swallowing hard, the weight of his gaze suddenly becoming too much for you to handle, because you knew exactly where he recognized you from.

That day at the airport, the very last day, four years ago. The day you had said goodbye to Mingyu, heart in pieces, believing you’d probably never see him ever again. Minghao had been there, along with the other members of Seventeen. Far away, but there. He had probably seen it. He probably knew.

Panic bubbled in your chest, but you fought to keep your expression neutral. You forced a laugh, shaking your head as you carefully replied, "I don’t think so. I think I’d remember."

“You’d be surprised,” Minghao’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if your reaction to his question had only deepened his suspicion. He chuckled softly, but his eyes stayed on yours, sharp with thought. “I’m terrible with names, but faces? I never forget a face.”

He looked like he was going to say something else, but then he tilted his head, studying your face a little bit more. He glanced at Mingyu slightly and there was a beat of silence between the three of you. All of sudden, you felt your pulse quickening again. This night looked like it would be one that would land you in the hospital with the onset of a cardiac arrest.

“Maybe we’ve crossed paths somewhere,” you said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “But I don’t think we’ve officially met before tonight.”

“Hmm, maybe,” he mused, glancing past you for a second before returning his focus back to your face. There was something knowing in it, something that made you feel sick. This couldn’t be happening. Then Minghao’s expression shifted, as if a light had just switched on in his mind. “Japan! Ha! Have you ever been to Japan?”

“I, uh…” you stammered slightly, trying to keep your cool. “Yeah, I’ve been. For work.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. You had met Mingyu during your time off while the singer you worked for was on tour.

He nodded slowly, like he was piecing something together. “Right.”

Minghao's eyes lingered on yours, and you had the distinct feeling that he was seeing right through your attempt at casual conversation.

But to your relief, he didn’t press the subject further. Instead, he just shrugged. “Well, I’m sure it’ll come to me eventually,” he said, his tone hinting at something unspoken. He smiled as he stepped aside, gesturing toward the dining room. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to Jungkook. Enjoy the rest of your night, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Minghao.” You mumble quickly, as he stepped into the men’s restroom after lightly touching Mingyu's shoulder and smiling at his friend. You took a deep breath, eyes meeting Mingyu’s again. “I should go,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I really need to—”

“Wait,” he interrupted you, his tone suddenly serious. “Can we… can we talk later? Somewhere private?”

You hesitated, the conflict within you flaring up again. Minghao's words and gaze had completely thrown you off balance. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please,” Mingyu said, his voice dropping to a whisper, a plea that struck deep within you. “I just need to see you again. Just to talk.”

“I’ll think about it,” you replied, taking one last look at him before you walked back toward the table.

Every step felt heavy, your mind racing with thoughts you wished you could push away as you made your way back to Jungkook. Did Minghao know? Was he just playing with you, or had he already connected the dots? Has he really recognized you? Was it possible that he had seen you in the airport with Mingyu?

You simply couldn’t afford to think about that right now. Not with Jungkook looking so happy, waiting for you at the table, surrounded by his closest friends. For now, you had to push everything aside, pretend like the past hadn’t crashed into your life tonight.

As you neared the dining area of the restaurant, the sound of laughter greeted you, and for a moment, the weight on your chest lightened. Jungkook spotted you immediately, his face lighting up as he waved you over.

You observed that boys had spread out. Seokmin, Bambam and Yugyeom were huddled around the karaoke machine, laughing and dancing to the soft ballad playing in the background. Eunwoo, Jaehyun and Chan sat nearby Jungkook, deep in conversation, while there was no sign of Mingyu coming behind you.

When you reached the table, Jungkook turned fully toward you, flashing that familiar boyish smile, the one that always made your heart swell. It was effortless, the way he could make you feel safe with just a look, as if the entire world faded away and it was only the two of you.

He extended his hands, pulling you close to seat on his lap, his voice soft and affectionate as he murmured, “There you are. I was starting to miss you.”

You genuinely smiled, the sound of his voice grounding you in the presente, exactly where you should be. You had to focus on him. On your six-month anniversary. On the life you had built together, even if ghosts from your past were insisting on creeping back in.

He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you as close as he could. “You okay?”

The warmth of his embrace and the tenderness in his words wrapped around you like a protective shield, momentarily easing the tension inside you. You melted into his embrace, resting your head against his shoulder and allowing yourself to sink into the comfort he always provided you, grateful for his touch on your skin. “Never been better.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Jungkook whispered, his words filled with sincerity as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head. “You make everything better, you know?”

You smiled at him again, though this time it felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment.

“I’m glad too.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you.”

He smiled big. “I love you more.”

You shook your head, tears suddenly welling up, pushing against your resolve. "No," you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought to hold them back. You couldn't tell what it was. Whether it was the events of tonight that had left you feeling so overwhelmed, or if it was simply because you loved this man with every fiber of your being that it couldn't be possible for there to be a love greater than that. "It’s not possible."

Everything inside you felt tangled—love, guilt, confusion—blurring the lines between what was real and what you were trying to push away.

“Yes, it is,” he said, head tilted to the side as he examined your face, his eyes and voice soft with concern, while you sank deeper into his shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

"Nothing," you whispered, forcing a small smile as you blinked away the tears. "They're tears of happiness, I promise. I'm just happy that we're here and together."

“Babe, this has been the happiest six months of my life.”

Your heart clenched. Six months. It was supposed to feel like a celebration, but all you felt right now was guilt weighing on you.

“Mine too,” you whispered back, mind far from settled.

Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You laughed, despite the sincerity in his voice, burying more of your face in his neck and closing your eyes to inhale the scent you loved—his. “Are you drunk right now, mister?”

“Just a little bit,” he chuckled. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“I feel the same way, baby,” you said, hoping the words would steady you.

He leaned closer, moving your hair away from the back of your neck to leave a trail of kisses there, voice a little rough. “And the way you look in this dress? Absolutely perfect and mesmerizing. I’d say you’re turning heads tonight.”

Your heart raced with joy at his compliment, heat rising to your cheeks. “You’re not too shabby yourself,” you teased, letting your gaze linger on him. “So handsome,” You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt soft beneath your lips. “So hot. It’s no wonder Calvin Klein wants you as their new brand ambassador.”

He chuckled, a low, playful sound that sent a thrill through you. “Careful, babe. If you keep complimenting and kissing me like this, I might have to take you somewhere else.” His tone was flirtatious and tinged with mischief, causing a flutter deep within you at the thought.

You bit your lip, lifting your head from his neck as your hands caressed his face, fingers tracing the outline of his jaw and lip ring. Leaning in closer, you raised an eyebrow, your voice soft and teasing. “Is that a promise?”

“Mhmm…”

Your faces were inches apart, the warmth of his breath sending pleasurable shivers down your spine. There was electricity in the air, a palpable tension that danced between you, wrapping around you like a silken thread. In that brief moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the room, the rest of the world fading away.

You swept his hair back, savoring every detail—the curve of his lips, the intensity in his eyes, the magnetic pull of his gaze. The urge to lose yourself in him was always so powerful. With a teasing flick of your tongue, you traced his lips, biting his lip ring, and he parted them willingly. A smile played at your mouth as you pulled back provocatively, but his lips chased yours immediately, hands slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you close. This time, you surrendered to him completely, feeling his smirk press against your mouth as you gave in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, breath catching as his soft lips pressed into yours, stealing the air right from your lungs. As you moved in, your tongue met his in a playful, lingering dance. The warmth of the kiss sparked something deep inside, each gentle caress a silent promise to savor every second together.

Still seated on his lap, your hands pressed to his chest, fingertips grazing over the firm planes beneath, as each languid pull of his lips melted you further .Jungkook’s hands squeezed your hips, urging you even tighter against him. The cool touch of his lip ring sent a thrill through you with every brush, a tantalizing contrast to the heat building between you.

Your hands slid up, fingers lacing behind his neck as your nails grazed his skin, slipping into his hair with a gentle tug. But just as you were close to getting more lost in each other, a piece of bread sailed through the air, smacking Jungkook on the head. You both broke the kiss, turning quickly to see where the unexpected interruption had come from.

Eunwoo, Jaehyun and Chan observed you with amused expressions, joined by the others on the other side of the room.

Crossing his arms over his chest, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he stared at you, Jaehyun said, “Aren’t you two awfully cozy over there?”

“Seriously, get a room!” Yugyeom shouted across the nearly empty restaurant.

“And don’t forget we’re still here, please.” Chan spoke, raising an eyebrow and grinning.

The others joined in with laughter, their teasing breaking the intimate bubble you and Jungkook had momentarily created. Your cheeks warmed even more as you buried your face in Jungkook’s shoulder again, caught between embarrassment and amusement.

“Yeah, okay, okay!” Jungkook said, laughing as he pulled back slightly, still holding you on his lap. “Can’t blame us for trying to celebrate our anniversary!”

“Right, right,” Eunwoo said, smirking. “Just don’t do it with us watching, yeah?”

As laughter filled the air, you felt the warmth of Jungkook’s arm around your waist, anchoring you to him amidst the joyful chaos.

But just then, you couldn’t help but let your gaze drift across the table. Drawn by an invisible thread, your eyes locked onto Mingyu’s. He was there again, clearly forcing a laugh as he stared at you. Your heart raced, the laughter around you fading into a distant murmur. Mingyu’s expression was unreadable yet charged, a blend of warmth and something profound swirling between you, and suddenly the light atmosphere seemed to shift again.

“Babe?” Jungkook’s voice pulled you back, concern etched across his features as he noticed your distraction. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus on him again, the affection in his eyes steadying you again. And then you lie, feeling like the worst person in the world again. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook pressed, his brow furrowing. ”You're not uncomfortable, are you?”

“No. Really, I’m okay.” you insisted, the words slipping out a little too quickly as your eyes met his.

Eventually, as the night wore on, your head nestled against Jungkook’s shoulder, the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat started to lull you into a sleeping state. He turned to you, a gentle smile on his face. “So, what do you say we call it a night? I think we’ve celebrated enough for one evening.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied, your heart swelling with affection.

Jungkook pulled you close, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Let’s get you home.”

If you liked this feel free to let me know with a like, reblog, comment, whatever you prefer! ❤️

★ TAGLIST

#jungkook x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu fanfic #jungkook fanfic #seventeen fic #bts fanfic #97 line

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gavisfanta · 9 months ago

Note

Do a possessive Pablo smut?

VICTORIA'S SECRET - GAVI

summary: it's your birthday and Gavi buys you something from Victoria's Secret which you'll try out immediately.

a/n: I got a bit carried away, sorryy, not proof read!!

warning: A LOT LOT OF SMUT, 18+

"I don't know what to buy her for her birthday." Gavi put his hands into his pocket while he walked around with Pedri, Fermin, and Ferran.

"Buy her lingerie, trust me, women are head over heels for lingerie from men." Pedri mumbled and Gavi looked at Ferran for a confirmation. However, Ferran made a weird face and as he looked at Gavi he shook his head.

"Don't believe him," Ferran told Gavi, Pedri then raised his eyebrows as Fermin just watched the drama happen.

"What do you mean don't believe me? Trust me, I know what I'm talking about." Pedri tried to convince Gavi. Fermin laughed and he looked like he was about to say something.

"Says the one who only has one-night stands. You only get them horny, not in their normal state." Fermin said to which he earned a mad look from Pedri. However Gavi and Ferran burst out laughing.

"Bro woke up and chose violence," Ferran mumbled after he was done laughing.

"Okay, you know what, let's check out Victoria's Secret, I'll buy her lingerie and something else too." Gavi decided as soon as he saw the Victoria's Secret store.

"Sounds good to me." Pedri crossed his arms. "Imagine how that looks, 4 men looking at bras and panties."

"Looks like 4 gentlemen buying their girlfriends something," Ferran mumbled.

"Pedri for his one-night stands," Fermin added and Pedri hit the back of his head as the other two started laughing again.

"Okay let's go." Pedri mumbled and sped up his pace a bit. Gavi walked inside and quickly a woman who worked for the store walked over to them.

"Hey, can I help you?" She asked and Gavi nodded his head. Fermin and the others looked around the store while standing next to their friend.

"I'm looking for lingerie." He mumbled in a bit of a quieter voice. The woman smiled at his awkwardness and nodded her head.

"What color are you looking for?" She asked with the same grin on her face. Pedri looked at Gavi with a small smile on his lips. He loved how awkward and shy Gavi sometimes gets.

"Red" Ferran shot Pedri a look and Pedri raised his brows. Fermin shook his head with a smile as Pedri also made eye contact with him.

"Okay," The women looked around and then started walking to the lingerie. The four boys followed her. "What bra size does she have?" She asked.

"I don't know but they fit into my hands." Gavi lifted his hands and looked at them while Ferran, Fermin, and Pedri burst out laughing. Gavi looked back at them and found them laughing and holding their stomach.

The woman who worked at the store nodded her head as she tried to hide her smile. "Do you think this will fit her?" She asked.

"Wait let me call her, I don't want to buy anything wrong." Gavi pulled out his phone and Pedri shook his head while the corner of his lips were still pointing upwards.

Gavi called and dialed your number and you picked up almost immediately.

"Hey Love, I have a question, what's your bra size?" Gavi asked and Pedri stood closer to him so he would be able to hear what you said.

"Straight to the point." You laughed a bit which made Gavi smile too. "It's B." You said and Gavi nodded his head even tho you couldn't see him.

"Thanks love, bye, love you." Gavi hung up and then looked at the woman. "It's B."

"Vale, we have these in B and also a few of the blue ones if you want to check that out." She pointed at the red ones and blue ones.

"Thank you so much." He said and the woman walked away again, Gavi looked at the lingeries and one stuck out of all the others.

"I'll take this one." he immediately walked over and grabbed it, it was a red, two-piece lingerie.

"Sexy, I'd like to see you wear it Pablito." Pedri smiled a bit while Gavi went to pay and the three boys followed him.

"Gavi is gonna turn into one of Pedri's one-night stands-" Right after Fermin finished his sentence, he received a hit on the back of his head by Pedri.

"Don't act like you're not having one-night stand. I know what kind of kid you are." Pedri pointed his finger at Fermin who was too scared to say anything and just stood there.

"Okay come on let's go." Gavi mumbled after he paid and received the lingerie in a bag. He couldn't wait any longer, he had to see you wear it.

Sadly he just HAD to wait.

So at midnight just after he congratulated you, he gifted you the shoes you've always wanted but were too expensive.

"But what did you need my bra size for?" You asked and he smiled while grabbing under the bed and pulling out a Victoria's Secret bag.

Your eyes widened and you couldn't help but smile. Then you covered your face with your hands while Gavi gave you the bra and the red thong.

"Wear it" Gavi mumbled in a strict voice and you couldn't help but smile. You took them from his hands, winked at him, went into the bathroom, and got changed.

Gavi meanwhile took off his shirt and changed into some Barcelona shorts.

Just as you opened the door to the bedroom again, you noticed that the lights were switched off. The only light coming from behind you is from the bathroom.

"Fuck," Gavi whispered as you walked closer to him and spun around. He got a perfect look at your tits and your ass, he felt himself get even harder by just looking at you.

"Fuck what?" You asked and wrapped your arms around his neck while going closer to him.

"If you won't stop this, you." Gavi gave you a look while he put his hands on your waist and looked at your body. "Why do you never wear lingerie? I'm about to come into my pants." Gavi mumbled and his hands moved from your waist down to your hips. Then he suddenly pulled you closer and you felt his boner poke against your skin.

"Cause I want you to come inside of me and not into your pants." You mumbled and Gavi only laughed a little bit.

"You look awesome in everything, how do you manage to do that hm? How did I manage to pull you?" He asked you, but the only response you gave was a small kiss on his lips. After that, you stood with your back facing the bed and then sat down. He looked at you as you opened up your legs and he saw that red lingerie sitting perfectly between your legs.

He inhaled sharply as he looked at you, and then his eyes moved up to your face again after you closed your legs.

"You need to show something, Amor" You mumbled and then turned on your stomach while grabbing your phone from the nightstand.

Gavi was left standing there, his boner in his pants and an awfully good look on your ass.

Gavi shook his head and walked closer to the bed until eventually he crawled over you. Your hips were between his legs ad he had his hands on your ass, groping them slightly.

"Show what? How much I love you?" Gavi leaned down to kiss your back and he pushed your hair out the way so he'd be able to reach your neck too.

"For example." You said in a bit of a teasing tone and then turned around.

"You're the birthday girl, do you wanna have control?" Gavi smiled and looked down at you."I'd like to try, but I can't guarantee anything." You laughed and Gavi just nodded his head and then left himself fall down next to you on his back.

"If you can't handle it just say so, you know I love to be the one in control." He turned his head to look at you getting on top of him.

You put extra much weight on his crotch with your hips and then leaned forward to his face. His lips felt soft on yours as soon as you connected them.

Then you pushed your lips harder, more passionate, needier. He grabbed your ass and started groping it as you moved your hips back and forth slowly.

"Take off my pants princesa" Gavi pushed you back a bit and you felt his hard dick below you. You hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his shorts and boxer shorts at the same time and pulled them down.

His hard dick jumped out of his boxers and hit his lower abdomen as you just smiled. You then sat down on his lower stomach and pulled him into a kiss. However, you lifted up your hips a bit and then pumped your hand up and down Gavi's dick a few times. Then you rubbed your clit with his tip and then eventually you pulled away.

He was holding your hips as he rocked his own hips a bit upwards, needy to be inside of you.

"Tranquilo Amor, tranquilo." You smiled and then pushed his tip in. Then just to tease him you started moving your hips in a circular motion before sinking down on him fully.

A loud moan escaped your mouth as you felt him filling you out and his dick poking your cervix. You felt him so deep inside of you that you needed to regain a bit of strength.

Gavi wasn't doing any better, well he was basically floating with so much pleasure as he looked down at where you two were connecting. Skin slapping was heard in the entire house probably while you threw your head back.

"You're doing so well." Gavi praised you, and then you looked down at him, his face sweaty and his hair sticking to his forehead. You ran your hands along his abs which were shiny as to also being covered in sweat.

It only took you a few more movements after you felt your high come up and he noticed it too. So he held your hips in one place and thrusted up into you at a rapid speed.

"Fuck Gavi-" You moaned out and then leaned forward as you came. You basically collapsed on top of him as he came too. The warm load of his cum filled you up as you were still on top of him.

"You did so great" Gavi praised you again as you tried to catch your breath. He proceeded to plant a few kisses on your neck and everything he could reach without moving you.

You sat up on his lower stomach after you regained your strength and caught your breath.

"So 18 more rounds?" Gavi asked with a smile as he squeezed the flesh of your hips a bit.

Your eyes widened at his question and your mouth hung slightly open. "Why do you want to do 18 more rounds?"

"Well, you turned 19 today, I thought it'd be fitting." He laughed a bit and you smiled while you shook your head.

"I don't care, but I definitely won't be on top." You said and felt Gavi's hand run up on your back. He quickly turned the two of you around so that you were caught below him.

"You're a bottom then?" He smiled a bit as he was now the one looking down at you. A soft smile was visible on your lips as you pushed his hair back.

"I love bottoming out, to be honest." You laughed and he winked at you as he looked down at your body.

"So are you in for another round?" His gaze shifted from your body to your eyes again.

To be honest, you didn't wanna tell him that this was exactly how you had planned out this night in your hand.

"Always" You mumbled and he nodded his head as he grabbed down to massage his balls and pump his hand up and down his dick a few times.

Then he pushed your thong aside and started teasing your clit with his tip. "Gavi!" You told him as he then removed his dick from your clit and looked at you with a smile.

"Okay, sorry, sorry." He pushed himself inside of you again and you arched your back up against his body.

"Okay, you can move." You mumbled and Gavi started thrusting in and out of you at a rapid speed.

"You're doing so well, hold still for me, yeah?" Gavi praised you and he then removed one of his hands from the bed and pushed himself up onto his knees.

He then pulled you closer by your thighs and then put one of your legs over his shoulder.

That allowed him to reach deeper inside of you and you felt his tip hitting your cervix.

You whined as he did so, Gavi looked at you with a bright smile and then put one of his left hands on your lower stomach. He pressed down on there and you threw your head back as you gripped the sheets tightly into your fists as you felt your second orgasm wash over you. He kept fucking you through your orgasm which meant that you moaned out louder than before. He sent you into oversensivity and you clenched around him which made it a bit more difficult for him to move. But he thrusted inside of you, no matter what you did, and as his thrusts became slower you knew that he was close.

He finished inside of you and you whined as he pulled out of you for a second.

Then just a few seconds later he pushed himself inside of you again and made sure that you finished too, for the third time.

Gavi then stopped for a few seconds and put his head on your stomach, just below your chest.

"I'm suggesting a change of location," Gavi mumbled and you smiled a bit as he lifted his head up again.

"What location are you suggesting?" You asked. "I was thinking of shower sex, we could also do the whirlpool tho." Gavi smiled and your lips immediately curled up into a smile.

"How about both?" That answer made Gavi excited and he stood up. "I'd say shower first, since it's closer." Gavi lifted you off the bed and walked into the bathroom with you.

He put you down onto the counter as he then took off your thong and he got on his knees in front of the counter. He pushed your legs wide open and started licking your clit.

You moaned softly as you had your hand in his brown locks and then he started fucking you with his thong soon after.

You felt as he also started rubbing your clit with his other hand which he wasn't holding your tight with.

"Gavi, seriously, this night is gonna be so long-" You whined as you felt his tongue accelerate.

"That's what our goal is no?" He looked up at you, he looked so hot, his face full of your juices, his cheeks red, his lips plumped up and slightly red too.

"Mhm" You mumbled and he smiled, that look made you clench around nothing. He then pushed two fingers inside of you and kept licking your clit.

That made you orgasm for the fourth time that night. Your legs started shaking as Gavi stood up to lick the remaining substances off of his lips and you swore that you could have came a fifth time at just the sight of him.

"Let's go into the shower," he said after a few minutes of massaging your tighs. You threw your head back and only laughed as he stood closer to you.

Your legs quickly wrapped around his torso as he lifted you up and walked into the shower with you.

He put you down but you were still hanging onto him since your legs were barely able to hold you.

He pinned you against the wall as he turned on the water.

You smiled as you looked at him, by his gaze shifting from the showerhead to your body from time to time and by his dick twitching, you could tell. You're not done by far.

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jetii · 4 months ago

Text

Promises Made (pt. 2/3)

Part One | Part Three

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

Words: 7,387 / 23,314

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, themes of grief/death/mourning, that comes into play a lot in this part, reader is genuinely unfair to Cross here sorry, protective!Crosshair, everyone is bad at feelings, smut in part 3

Summary: Crosshair is back, and you're the only one who still can't seem to forgive him. When you finally have the lead you've been seeking since the extinction of the Jedi, you seize the opportunity to escape the constant turmoil his presence causes you. Of course, Crosshair has other plans.

A/N: Thank you again to everyone for your kind words and support on all my fics, it really means a lot to me! I loved writing the drama in this part, and it was hard to stop, so hopefully it doesn’t drag on too much. Enjoy!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

The moment you enter the cockpit, Crosshair stiffens, staring out of the viewport with wide eyes. The smoggy grey atmosphere of Bracca, pocked with smears of red rust and the glimmer of steel, stares back.

You can practically feel the tension radiating off of him, and you know he’s remembering what happened the last time the two of you were here.

You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he clenches his jaw and curls his lip. You know he doesn't want to be here, doesn't want to set foot on this planet ever again, and you’re surprised at how guilty you feel. You thought a part of you would relish the pain he was feeling, would be glad to see him squirm.

But you aren’t.

"Are you alright?" you ask. You hadn't meant to, hadn't even realized you were thinking it until the words slip past your lips.

He looks at you, startled, as though he didn't think you'd notice.

"I'm fine," he snarls, and the bite in his words catches you off guard. You recoil, turning back to the control panel.

"We're landing in twenty," you mutter, and that's the end of the conversation.

The rest of the flight is silent, and it's not until the Marauder is descending into the atmosphere that he speaks again.

"What's the plan?" Crosshair asks, standing behind the copilot's chair. You can hear the creak of the leather as he grips the backrest, can feel his eyes on the top of your head.

"There is no plan," you say. You look back up at him, and there's a furrow between his brows. "We're not here for a job."

He blinks, clearly confused. "What?"

"We're landing, and we're meeting my contact." You turn back to the control panel, watching the ship descend through the viewport. “She’ll give us the coordinates, we’ll get what I came for, and then we’ll leave.”

“That easy, huh?” Crosshair scoffs.

“Were you expecting something more thrilling? A daring chase? A firefight?” you tease. He rolls his eyes. “I told you it was just an exchange. There won't be any trouble."

The Marauder touches down, the landing ramp dropping a moment later. You stand, stretching.

"Besides," you say, grabbing your bag, "you've had your fair share of trouble for one lifetime."

He watches you closely as you sling the bag over your shoulder, and when you look up, you catch him staring. You don't understand the intensity in his eyes, or the way his expression seems to shift, the frustration replaced with something softer. He averts his gaze, crossing his arms.

"If you say so," he grumbles, but there's a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You smirk. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"I don't need protecting."

"Of course you don't, dear." You pat his shoulder as you pass, and he scowls.

He's still glaring when you glance over your shoulder, and you have to hold back a laugh. You don't miss the way the corners of his lips twitch upward as he follows behind, and for a moment, the tension lifts.

It's raining when you exit the ship, and the cold droplets soak through your jacket almost immediately. Crosshair tugs on his helmet as you step out of cover, and you ignore your flash of jealousy as you pull your hood up over your head.

You don't waste time, hurrying toward the abandoned building you're meeting your contact in. Puddles splash under your feet, soaking through your boots, and your clothes cling to your skin. Your hood is doing little to protect you, the water dripping from the edges and onto your face, and you try to focus on anything other than the chill that's settling into your bones.

Crosshair stays a few steps behind, keeping pace. He looms behind you like a shadow. His presence is both comforting and unnerving, and you find yourself constantly checking over your shoulder.

"I hate this place," Crosshair grumbles. The modulator on his helmet makes him sound even more irritated. "Stay close to me."

You turn to see his head on a swivel, his posture stiff, and his hand on the blaster at his side. You can’t help but scoff, and his head snaps towards you.

"What?” he growls.

"Nothing,” you mutter back. “Just nice to know some things haven’t changed.”

“Are you going to be like this the entire time?”

You can hear the annoyance in his tone, the barely concealed frustration, and it makes you smile.

"Probably," you reply, turning down a side street.

Crosshair makes an irritated noise. It only encourages you, putting a spring in your step in an otherwise miserable situation. Maybe it's a good thing he came after all. You can practically hear him grinding his teeth, and it's hard to contain your amusement.

"I don't get it," he mutters.

"Get what?"

"This. You." He gestures vaguely, the hand not on his weapon flapping in your direction. "You're being..."

"Nice?" you suggest, glancing over your shoulder.

"Fucking obnoxious."

You laugh, the sound echoing through the empty alley. Crosshair groans, and you can see his shoulders droop in exasperation. "That's my default setting. You should know that."

"Yeah, well," he says, his voice low and rough, "I forgot."

The admission hangs in the air, and you feel a rush of... something. It's not quite guilt, or sadness, but it's not happy, either. It's an uneasy combination, and you shove the feeling down.

"Maybe I've missed this," you tease. You slow your pace, falling into step beside him. "Maybe I've missed the sound of your voice."

"You're a liar," he replies, but you can hear the humor in his tone.

"What are you talking about?" You feign innocence, but there's a playful lilt to your voice that gives you away. "I'm an honest person."

"An honest pain in the ass."

You snicker. "Maybe I've missed having someone to bother."

"You've never had trouble finding a victim," he quips, and you nudge his arm with your elbow. He pushes back, and it's almost a joke, almost a friendly gesture, and for a moment, you forget why you're even here.

"True," you concede. "But nobody else puts up with me like you do."

His helmet tilts down, and you can feel his gaze on you. You look at him, and it's impossible to see his face, but you swear there's a hint of a smile.

"Yeah," he says, and the word is almost fond. "Lucky me."

"Shut up."

You bump his arm again, and he chuckles, the sound barely audible through the filter on his helmet. It's a tender moment, a brief glimpse of the old Crosshair, the one who would banter and bicker with you for hours, and the sound of his voice pulls you back to a different time. You miss it, more than you thought possible.

"We're here," you say, interrupting the moment. You push the door open, and it swings inward, revealing a stairwell. You glance back at him, motioning him forward. He falls into step behind you, all trace of amusement gone.

"Let's get this over with," he says.

You descend into the building, the stairs creaking beneath your feet. You can see feel the tension rolling off Crosshair in waves, and he reaches over his shoulder to draw his rifle.

"Calm down, would you?" you say, and he bristles.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"You said it yourself," he mutters, scanning the shadows. "I've had my fair share of trouble for a lifetime."

"That's not what I—"

You're interrupted when you reach the bottom of the stairs, and a tan Abednedo steps from the shadows, a blaster pointed in your direction. She lowers the weapon when she sees you, and a small smile crosses her lips.

“Master Jedi. Pleasure to see you again," the Abednedo drawls, holstering her blaster.

"Saaba," you nod. You nudge Crosshair hard with your elbow, and he grunts before slowly lowering his rifle. You can see his fingers flex, as if he's not sure he should put it away, and you hope he listens.

Saaba gives him a once over, the tendrils that frame her mouth twitching. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Crosshair. Cross, this is my friend, Saaba," you explain.

"A pleasure," Crosshair says, his tone dry.

"I'll admit, I'm surprised to see you've brought company." She squints, her large goggles emphasizing how she sizes him up. “And a trooper, no less. I thought they were your enemies now."

Crosshair tenses, and you can feel his anger flare. You reach for him, touching his wrist. He looks at you, and even with his helmet on, you can tell he's glaring. You shake your head, and he sighs, relaxing a little under your touch.

You hadn't told her about Crosshair, or about the rest of the Batch. It hadn't seemed important, and you weren't sure how she'd react to knowing the man standing beside you had more than once tried to kill you.

"Things change," you say, your tone light. "He's one of the good guys now."

"Well," Saaba hums, "that's a relief. I'd hate to have to kill a friend of yours."

Crosshair shifts his weight, and he takes a step closer. "You could try."

"Easy," you say, giving his arm a squeeze before dropping your hand.

Saaba laughs. "Oh, I like this one."

"Me too," you agree, and you can't help but grin. Crosshair's helmet swivels towards you, and you can imagine the bewildered look on his face. You shrug.

"Anyway," you say, ignoring the way he's staring at you. "Let's get down to business."

"Of course." Saaba smiles. She reaches into her bag, pulling out a small data disk. "The coordinates you need. As promised."

"Thank you."

You reach for the data, but she doesn't let go, pulling you closer.

"Don't get caught." Her voice is low, and her expression is serious.

"You know me."

"Which is exactly why I'm telling you not to get caught," she says. “I told the Guild I was stripping the place for copper, and I need to report back soon, or they’ll send their own crew. But I can’t guarantee they won’t go poking around on their own.”

"Understood."

She lets go, and you step back, putting the disk in your bag. You grab a pouch, holding it out to her. "For your trouble."

She shakes her head, pushing the credits away. “I owed you one.”

You blink. “Are you sure?”

"Just don't let me regret it," she warns, but her tone is soft. You always liked Saaba, even if she could be a bit of a handful. But she was reliable, and she didn't ask questions.

"Never."

You turn, heading towards the stairs, and Crosshair follows. You don't look back, and Saaba doesn't stop you. Once you're back outside, the door swinging shut behind you, you let out a sigh.

"Well, that was easy," Crosshair drawls.

"Don't jinx it," you grumble. You shiver, tugging your soaked jacket tighter around yourself. The rain hasn't stopped, and you're beginning to realize you didn't think the weather through.

There's a rumble of thunder, and Crosshair looks up.

Great, you think, just great.

"You should have brought a coat."

"Shut up."

He laughs, a real, genuine laugh, and the sound warms you. You can't remember the last time you'd heard him laugh like that. It makes you smile, even if he is laughing at your expense.

"It's not over yet," you continue, ignoring the way your stomach flutters. "We still have to find what we're looking for, and get off planet."

"I thought you said it was going to be simple," he teases, his tone smug. It's so strange, to hear his voice sound like that again, and it feels... good.

You huff.

"It should be." You glance around the alley, noting how the rain had driven the locals inside. "It's just the retrieval that might be difficult."

He hums, and the two of you walk in silence. The rain hasn't let up, and by the time you reach the Marauder, your hair is plastered to your face. You push it aside, wringing out the water.

"Now, let's see where we're going," you say, climbing the landing ramp.

You settle in the pilot's seat, Crosshair leaning against the doorframe, and you pull the data disk from your bag. You slide the disk into the control panel, waiting as the computer loads the coordinates.

You frown, leaning forward.

“The coordinates are a few clicks south of here," you say, zooming in. “But we can’t take the Marauder there, the terrain is too rough. We'll have to go on foot.”

"On foot?" Crosshair repeats. "Through the scrapyards?"

You nod. He sighs.

"Great."

"You can stay here if you’re scared."

"I'm not scared."

"Well," you say, grabbing your bag and heading towards the exit, "I'm glad to hear it."

Crosshair grumbles, and when he passes you, he knocks his shoulder into yours. You laugh, shoving him back.

"Come on, you big baby. It's not so bad," you tease, closing the ramp behind the two of you.

He scoffs, and the sound is distorted by the rain and his helmet.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

As soon as the Marauder disappears from view, the rain goes from bad to worse. The cold droplets sting your face as you trudge through the mud, and the wind whips at your clothing.

The scrapyard is a dangerous place. Thousands of broken starships litter the area, stacked on top of each other in tall piles. Some of them are old, rusted from years of exposure, while others are relatively new, their hulls dented from the harsh winds. Even though you’re cold and miserable, you’re grateful for Saaba's work. If you’d gone searching yourself, it would’ve taken you years to find what you were looking for.

As you climb over a particularly large piece of debris, you glance at Crosshair. The rain is pouring, and it's put both of you in a sour mood, your prior banter forgotten.

You can feel his eyes on you as he walks behind you, and it makes you nervous.

"I'm not gonna fall," you snap, reaching the top.

"Didn't say you were."

"Then stop looking at me like I'm about to."

"What am I supposed to look at?" he asks, his tone sharp.

You glance around. There's nothing but rain and rust, and the looming shadows of the ships stacked around you. It's an eerie sight, the remains of war and violence, and you feel a chill run down your spine.

"Anything else," you grumble. You slide down the other side, and he's quick to follow.

"How much farther is this thing?"

"I don't know. Not far," you say, but the truth is, you have no idea.

"You're a terrible liar."

"Shut up, Cross."

You push your hair from your face for the thousandth time, and you can’t decide if the rain or the wind is the worst. Both make your clothing cling to your skin, and you're pretty sure you're never going to feel warm again.

"Real mature," he mutters, and you can practically feel the eyeroll. “Are you going to tell me what we’re looking for, or am I going to have to guess?”

“Guessing could be fun,” you tease, trying to distract yourself. But his patience is wearing thin, and you know it as well as you know that yours is fraying too.

"I’m not in the mood for games," he growls back.

The taught threads of your sanity finally snap, and you stop in your tracks, your patience evaporating like the mist. Crosshair slams into you, and you stumble, barely managing to keep your footing.

"Would you watch where you're going?" he hisses, and you whirl around.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.”

The venom in your voice catches you both off guard. He falls onto his back foot, taking a step away from you. You don't let it stop you. Your anger rises, the floodgates open, and your emotions come pouring out.

“Why are you here, Crosshair?”

The question comes out harsher than you intended, and Crosshair recoils, his head jerking backwards. You can't see his face, but the tension in his frame is clear. You're not sure why you're asking, not sure if you even want an answer, but the words spill from your lips regardless.

He doesn't say anything.

You cross your arms, waiting. The wind howls, the rain hammering down around you, and his silence drags on. He stands there, the rain pinging off his armor, his shoulders hunched.

Finally, he speaks, and the words are strained.

“I told you. It’s my job to keep an eye on you."

You scoff. "Is that really all?"

"Yes," he says, taking a step closer. "Why else would I be here? Do you think I enjoy freezing my ass off, traipsing around in the mud?"

"No," you reply flatly. "But I don't believe you, either."

Crosshair sighs, and his helmet tilts skyward. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Something true, for once," you say, stepping into his space. "Because if protecting me is your job, you're fucking awful at it."

He flinches, and the movement is so slight you almost miss it. You regret the words the moment they leave your mouth, but you can't help but double down. You've been holding it back, all this anger and hurt, and the dam breaks.

“I’ve been hurt dozens of times since you left, at least once by your hand." Your voice rises, and he's motionless, his entire body stiff.

Your hands shake, and you clench them into fists, the ache in your knuckles a welcome distraction. He's still staring at the ground, and your temper flares. Something within you snaps.

"You left, and you didn’t come back. And now, what, you show up here, with some bullshit excuse, and act like nothing ever happened?"

"I can't—"

"I don't care," you cut him off, and your voice is cold. "I don't care what you have to say. You had your chance. You should've stayed away."

Crosshair recoils as though he's been slapped, and for a moment, he doesn't move.

You're frozen, too, the weight of the words hanging in the air. You hadn't meant to say it, hadn't meant to say any of it, but you were tired.

Tired of his excuses, of his lies, and his refusal to acknowledge what had happened.

You were tired of hurting.

And in that moment, you didn't care if he knew it.

You can't see his face, but you don't need to. You can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, can feel his rage, and it mirrors your own.

You stand there, staring at each other, your anger a palpable thing, and a part of you is relieved. It's the first real emotion he's shown, the first real indication he's been anything other than indifferent, and you're glad. You wanted a reaction, and you got one.

The thought is quickly quashed when he speaks.

"Maybe I should've," he growls. The pain in his voice underneath the anger takes you by surprise. "Then I wouldn't have to deal with your fucking mess."

His words sting, more than they should, and you hate yourself for it. He's always been good at that, cutting deep with his words, and it's something you'd hoped would change.

You should've known better.

"Well, then," you begin, and your voice is quiet, a contrast to the anger simmering below the surface. "I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you."

You turn, and he grabs your arm, stopping you.

"Don't—"

"Don't what?" you ask, whirling around. You yank your arm from his grasp, and his hand drops.

He doesn't reply. You don't move, the rain pelting the ground around you, and the wind whipping at your clothing. Crosshair doesn't say anything, doesn't try to explain himself, and you can't stop the anger from boiling over again.

"Don't go? Don't leave? Why shouldn't I? Why do you care? It's not like you cared about me when—"

"You don't know what you're talking about," he interrupts sharply.

"No!" you shout. Lightning cracks in the distance, the flash illuminating the metal around you. "You're the one who doesn't know."

"You think I don't know what happened?" His tone is hard, his words clipped. "You think I haven't had to live with that? With knowing what I did to you?"

"Don't you dare." You jab a finger into his chest, and he takes a step back. His shoulders tense, and you can tell he's furious, but you can't stop.

"You don't get to act like that's some big burden you've been carrying around."

"I have!"

"So have I!"

Crosshair is silent, and you can tell he's taken aback by your admission. He shifts, his weight moving from foot to foot, and his hands clench and unclench at his sides. He doesn't say anything, his attention shifting from the ground, to the sky, and back again.

The wind blows, and you shiver. You tug your jacket tighter around yourself as the adrenaline starts to wear off. You don't speak, waiting for him to respond.

"I'm trying," he says after a beat, his tone sharp. "I'm trying, and I don't know what else you want from me."

"Not hard enough," you spit back.

"How the hell am I supposed to—"

"You're not," you interrupt. "Not anymore."

He goes still, his entire body rigid. For a moment, the rain is the only sound, battering against the scrap metal and his helmet. His fists clench, and he shakes his head. He lets out a long, slow breath, and the mist from his vocoder obscures your vision.

"I never thought you would forgive me." His voice is low, barely audible over the howling wind. "I just hoped you wouldn't hate me forever."

Your lips part, but no sound comes out. There's a lump in your throat, and you can't swallow. Your chest aches, and your fingers tingle, and it takes everything in you to remain upright.

"I don't hate you," you say, and your voice is a whisper. "But I wish I did."

The words are painful to admit, and you're not sure what's worse: saying them out loud, or knowing they're true.

His hand lifts, as though he's going to touch your face, and the movement is so gentle, so careful, that it makes you ache. Then, his hand drops, and his fingers curl into a fist, and he lets out a frustrated huff.

You can see his hand shake, a reminder that the Empire took something from him, too, and you feel a sudden surge of guilt. But you can’t bring yourself to apologize, can't force the words past your lips, and so you just stand there, watching him.

The silence stretches on, and you can feel the cold steep into your bones, and you’re tired of waiting for Crosshair, so you turn and start to walk away.

You barely take a step when he speaks, and his voice is pained.

“I’m sorry,” he says, barely audible in the wind.

You stop, your feet sinking into the mud, and your breath catches. The apology is so unexpected, so raw, you feel it in your chest.

You want to look at him, but you can't.

You're afraid that if you do, he'll see right through you, and you'll have to acknowledge that despite your best efforts, your anger has faded, replaced by something else.

So you don't look at him. Instead, you stare at the ground, at the way the mud oozes around your boots.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, and his voice cracks. "I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I didn't— I don't expect you to forgive me, but I'm sorry."

He takes a deep breath, and you can hear it, the way his lungs stutter. It catches on something inside of you, and your eyes burn.

"I don't want you to hate me," he says. The words are so soft, so quiet, that you almost miss them. "And I know I deserve it. But don't. Please."

"You should've thought about that before you shot me."

He's quiet, the only sound the rain and the wind, and it's obvious the words hit him hard. A part of you regrets it, regrets being so cruel, but another part, a darker part, wants to hurt him. Wants him to feel the pain you've felt since the day he left.

"I know," he says, and there's a note of resignation in his tone. "And I will regret it every day for the rest of my life."

You turn, and his helmet is pointed at the ground.

“I thought I was doing the right thing, that it was the only thing I could do. But I was wrong, and I made a mistake, and I have to live with that." His voice is low, his words heavy, and the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. "If I could take it back, I would. In a heartbeat."

You blink, the tears burning the back of your eyes, and you fight the urge to turn away. You swallow hard, the pressure behind your eyes so intense that it hurts, before you ask, "Why are you telling me this?"

He lifts his head to meet your gaze. "Because you deserve to know."

"And what do you deserve?"

"Nothing."

It's immediate, so assured and without hesitation that you nearly stumble back.

"I deserve nothing," he continues, and his tone is so self-loathing, so full of hatred, that it makes your chest tighten.

Your mouth opens, but the words don’t come, and you can't think. You want to scream, want to shout, want to hit him, to comfort him, to apologize, and it's too much, and you don't know what to do.

His words hang between you, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.

He really believes it.

He truly thinks that he deserves nothing.

That he deserves no forgiveness, no mercy, no sympathy, no second chance.

And as much as you want to be angry, as much as you want to hate him, it hurts to see him like this. To see him so resigned, so accepting, that he's willing to take whatever punishment you deem fit.

Your anger fades, and you can feel the fight draining out of you. You let out a long sigh, and the tension in your frame eases. "Cross—"

"Don't." He raises a hand, cutting you off. "Just...don't."

Your mouth closes. The rain batters the metal around you, the wind whips your hair around your face, and it's impossible to keep the tears from spilling over. They mix with the rain, and you wipe them away.

He lowers his hand. "Come on. Let's keep moving."

Crosshair pushes past you, his shoulder bumping yours. He starts to walk, his strides long and purposeful, and the space where his armor touched your arm tingles.

You hesitate before you follow him, and the rest of the walk is spent in silence. Your boots sink into the mud, and the rain beats against your hood. By the time you reach the coordinates, you're shivering, and the rain has started to sleet.

Your feet slip on the icy ground, and you stumble. Crosshair catches your arm, steadying you. You look up, meeting his gaze through the visor of his helmet, and your heart twists in your chest.

"Thanks," you mumble, pulling away.

He says nothing, turning his attention back to the ruins. The star destroyer is huge, the metal hull jutting up from the mud. The bridge has long since broken away, but the main section remains intact. You make your way to the hull, searching for an entrance.

You can feel him watching you, and you wonder if he's thinking about what you said, if he regrets his words, and your stomach twists.

You shouldn't care, not after everything he's done, but the thought of him thinking he deserves nothing, nothing at all, makes you feel sick. You know he does, and it hurts, because there's a part of you that still cares about him.

A part of you that's always cared.

And no matter how many times he's hurt you, that won't change.

You've wanted nothing more than to put the past behind you, to forget the hurt and the pain and the loss. And here is Crosshair, finally willing to talk, to apologize, and all you've done is push him away.

And despite how angry you are, how hurt, you're tired of fighting. You're tired of running from the past, and tired of letting it define who you are.

You take a deep breath, and then another. It's not too late, you tell yourself.

"Here."

You find a service hatch, and you pull it open, slipping inside. The metal groans as your feet hit the ground, and you narrowly avoid a gap in the floor. The interior of the ship is dark, and the only light comes from the holes in the ceiling. Crosshair follows you, and his rifle scans the room.

"It's clear," he says, lowering the weapon.

"Good," you say, wiping the sleet from your jacket.

You start down the hallway, searching the rooms as you go. The ship is in disarray, the furniture overturned and the walls peppered with blaster fire.

There’s a scorched line carved into a wall, and you wince at the sight, your feet slowing to a stop to examine it. You don't have to touch it to know what happened here, and your eyes burn.

You turn, startled to find Crosshair directly behind you. He stares down at you, his posture stiff. "What is it?"

"I..." You're not sure how to respond. He must sense your hesitation, because his head tilts, and you can feel his eyes on you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice surprisingly soft.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he says, and his words take you by surprise.

You cross your arms, looking away. The hallway is dark, and the silence between you stretches on. You're not sure what you expected, but you didn't think he'd call you out. "Cross..."

"No," he repeats, stepping closer. "Don't. Talk to me."

You open your mouth, then close it.

"Talk to me," he says again, more firmly.

Shaking your head, you turn and start walking. He trails behind, the metal creaking beneath his boots, and the sound echoes around the corridor. The hallway splits, and you go right. The lights flicker, the wiring exposed, and the darkness seems to seep in from the edges of your vision.

"It's the burn marks," Crosshair says, after a moment, his voice low.

You stop.

"In the walls," he adds, when you don't respond. "That's why you stopped, isn't it?"

You turn, and he's standing there, his helmet tilted, his posture rigid. He says your name quietly. “What are we really here for?”

You sigh. There isn’t any fight left in you, not now, and you can’t bring yourself to lie.

“My Master’s body.”

Crosshair inhales sharply, and his shoulders tense. He doesn’t move, and the silence is stifling.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would it have changed anything?"

He pauses, considering. "Maybe," he says, his voice low, "but I still would've helped you."

Your fingers twitch at your side. It's a struggle, but you keep your emotions in check. You're not sure if he's being honest, if he's telling the truth, and the uncertainty makes your stomach twist, tangling with the grief that threatens to swallow you whole.

"I couldn't..." You trail off, your throat tight.

You don't have the energy to lie, and your eyes burn. You want to say it, want to tell him how much it hurts, but the words are lodged in your throat. You're afraid, afraid that once you start, you won't be able to stop, and the fear keeps the truth from spilling out.

The moment stretches on, and his fingers brush your shoulder. It's a simple touch, one that's barely there, and it's so unexpected that it takes you by surprise.

He squeezes gently, and the contact is grounding, comforting, and it feels so good that it makes your chest ache.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice is thick with emotion.

You turn, and his helmet is tilted downwards. You know he's looking at you, his eyes boring into you with a heaviness you can't decipher.

"I need to find him," you whisper. You hate how vulnerable you sound. His hand tightens on your shoulder, and you swallow. "I need to..."

"We'll find him," he says, and his tone leaves no room for argument.

"Thank you," you manage. The words sound strange coming from your mouth.

He nods, releasing your shoulder. You miss his touch, and you have the urge to reach for him, to take his hand, but you push it down.

"We'll find him," he repeats.

You nod, and the two of you continue down the corridor. The hallway opens up into a larger room, and you glance around, looking for a clue, a sign, anything. But the sleet has left the space dark, blocking the light from the windows.

"There's nothing here," you say, defeated.

"There has to be," Crosshair insists.

You turn to look at him, and his helmet is pointed in your direction. He's staring at you, the intensity of his gaze causing your skin to prickle.

"There's nothing," you repeat.

"We'll keep looking."

"There's nothing, Cross."

"We'll keep looking," he repeats, and the steel in his voice is enough to make you waver.

You shake your head, frustrated, but before you can speak, the ground lurches beneath your feet.

"What the—"

Crosshair's arm wraps around your waist, and he yanks you forward, his grip on your jacket so tight you're sure it's going to rip. The ship groans, and the ground lurches again, and this time, you can hear the sound of metal scraping against metal.

"Shit," you mutter, gripping his shoulders. "The ground, it's—"

"I know."

You look down, and the ground beneath you is shifting. You can see the cracks spreading, and the ship starts to tilt, and you realize the ground isn't the only thing that's changing.

"We need to move," you say.

Crosshair doesn't need to be told twice, and the two of you start toward the hallway. You're not fast enough, though, and the ground shifts violently, the force of the impact sending you flying.

You scream, and Crosshair curses. He lunges, wrapping an arm around your waist, and your body slams into his.

The two of you hit the ground hard, and the impact knocks the wind from your lungs. You roll, and your stomach drops as the ground disappears beneath you. Crosshair grunts, and his hand digs into your hip, holding onto you tightly. The ship tips, and you slide down the slick metal floor, heading straight for the gaping chasm.

You let out a panicked cry, and the world goes sideways as Crosshair grabs onto a railing. You can see the bottom of the ship, hundreds of feet below, and you have a fleeting moment of panic.

Your command of the Force is still shaky, and there's a good chance that the two of you will plummet to your deaths if you try to slow your descent. Your heart is in your throat, but then Crosshair pulls, his grip strong, and he hauls you over the edge.

Your boots scrape against the ground as he pulls you upwards, and you feel your feet catch on the edge. You gasp, relieved, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

He pulls the two of you onto the platform, and his arms wrap around you, crushing you against his chest.

"Are you hurt?" he pants, his chest heaving.

You shake your head, and you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You squeeze your eyes shut, clinging to him, and you realize he's trembling.

"I've got you," he says. "It's okay, I've got you."

Crosshair doesn't let go, and his breathing is ragged. Your hands curl around his shoulders, and you lean into him, the contact calming. You can feel his heartbeat, and the rhythm is quick, erratic. You stay like that for a long moment, neither of you moving.

You're not sure who moves first, but his arms relax, and you shift, pulling away. He releases you, his hands sliding to your waist. He's still shaking, and his helmet is tilted downward, his gaze focused on you.

"Are you okay?" you ask, and your voice is a little too high.

He nods. "I'm fine."

Your lips press into a thin line, and he must notice your disbelief, because he lets out a shaky laugh. "I will be," he amends.

You nod, and you can't seem to look away. He's still gripping your waist, and his gloves are slick with rain. You can feel his fingers digging into your skin, and despite the chill, the contact is grounding.

"You saved me," you say, your voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah."

You're not sure what to say. There's a part of you that wants to thank him, a part of you that wants to pull him close and wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. It's a strange feeling, one that you haven't felt in a long time, and you struggle to push it down.

Instead, you say the only thing you can think of. "Thanks."

He shrugs, as though it's no big deal. "It's my job."

"No, it's not."

"Yes," Crosshair starts, his tone firm. You blink, and he's leaning down, his helmet inches from your face. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your fingers curl into his shoulders. His grip tightens on your waist, and you can feel his breath through his vocoder. "It is."

"I—"

"We can argue about this, or we can keep going."

"Right." You nod, pulling away. His grip lingers, and then his hands fall, and you feel cold without them. "I mean, you're right."

You can hear him exhale, and he pushes himself up, holding a hand out to you.

"I usually am," he says as he hauls you to your feet, and there's a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Asshole," you mutter, pushing past him.

"Brat," he says, following close behind.

You climb through a hole in the floor, and you're surprised to find the hallway intact. You walk cautiously, your senses alert, and your steps are slow. The hallway ends at a door, and the panel is cracked, but the lock still works.

The door slides open, revealing a small, dimly lit room. A window looks out onto the snow, and there's a bed, and a chair, and a desk. You look around, and a lump forms in your throat. The bed is made, the covers neatly tucked. A holoprojector sits on the desk, and a stack of books is piled in the corner.

"This was his quarters," you say.

Crosshair doesn't answer, and the quiet is unnerving. You cross the room, your heart hammering in your chest. You stand beside the bed, and your hands curl into fists. You can feel his presence behind you, but he doesn't speak.

"What do we do now?" you ask, your voice sounding far away to your ears.

"Look for clues," he says. "Anything that could point us to where his body is."

You nod, and the two of you search the room. You're not sure what to expect, and you're not even sure what you're looking for. You pick up a datapad on the bed, but the device is blank.

Crosshair is rummaging through the desk drawers, and you walk over to him. He's looking at an open drawer, head tilted. You peer around him, and your breath catches in your throat.

There's a few pieces of flimsi, and a stylus, and a data card. But what makes your heart skip a beat is the stone. It's small, no bigger than your palm, and the surface is smooth, black with a white streak bisecting it.

"I can't believe he kept it," you say, and your voice cracks.

"Kept what?" Crosshair asks, and you can hear the confusion in his voice.

"The stone. I gave it to him when I was a Padawan."

"Why?"

"I don't know," you admit. "I was always giving him gifts. I used to think they were the only way he'd know I cared about him."

Crosshair looks down at you, and his voice is softer than you've ever heard it. "I'm sure he knew."

"You think so?" you ask, and your eyes burn.

"Yeah."

You nod, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"It's just..." Your voice trails off, and you clear your throat, trying to dislodge the lump that's formed.

"It's okay," he says, his hand resting on your shoulder.

"No, it's not. He's dead, Cross, and I wasn't here. I was supposed to be here, but I wasn't."

"That's not your fault," he says, and his other hand lifts, resting on your opposite shoulder.

"I know, but..."

"You couldn't have done anything."

"But I—"

"Stop." His voice is firm, and his grip on your shoulders tightens.

"Cross..."

"Shut up and listen," he says, and his tone leaves no room for argument. "You did the best you could. You were fighting a war, you were doing what was right."

You nod, but the guilt is overwhelming. You force yourself to look up at him. His hands are still on your shoulders, and his helmet is tilted down, his gaze on you.

"It wasn't your fault," he repeats.

His thumbs press gently against the hollow of your collarbones, and his touch is soothing. You take a shaky breath, and his grip loosens, one hand sliding from your shoulder to your face. His thumb brushes across your cheek, catching a tear. You inhale sharply, and his fingers cup your jaw, and you lean into his touch.

"Thank you," you manage, your voice breaking.

"It's going to be okay," he says. "I promise."

"Cross—"

"I mean it," he says. Crosshair grabs your hand, and you let him manipulate your fingers until only your littlest one remains facing up. He curls his around yours, squeezing gently.

"Promise?"

He nods. "Promise."

Your lips twitch up, and he squeezes your finger again, his grip firm. His other hand cups the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, and he pulls you against his chest, holding you tight. You wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest plate.

You stay like that for a moment, closing your eyes as his fingers run through your hair. You sigh, leaning into him, and you can hear his breathing through his vocoder. His hands are warm, and he's solid, and he smells like leather, and blaster oil, and rain.

"We should keep looking," you say, but you don't want him to let go.

Crosshair hesitates, then nods, his grip on your hair loosening. His hand slides from the back of your head to your jaw, and he tilts your chin up, staring down at you.

"Okay?"

You nod, and his thumb strokes the apple of your cheek. His touch is so soft, and you can feel his gaze on you. He lingers, and you wonder if he's going to say something, but he doesn't. Instead, his fingers tighten on your face, and he leans down.

His forehead presses against yours, and his hands fall away. He exhales, and his breath fans across your lips before he pulls away.

The absence of his touch leaves you cold, and your chest aches, the space between your ribs feeling too tight. You blink, and Crosshair is gone, already walking across the room.

He starts rummaging through the closet, and you shake yourself, clearing your throat. You turn to the desk, and you pick up the stone. Your thumb runs over the surface, feeling its imperfections.

Suddenly, you gasp. A memory flashes through your mind, one that doesn't belong to you.

"What is it?" Crosshair asks, instantly alert.

"I know where he is."

Taglist: @covert1ntrovert @bruh-myguy-what @huntersnikeheadband @thebadbatchfan @absolfan @winchesters-girl @sukithebean @spicy-clones @arctrooper69 @qvnthesia

#tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #roy writes #continuing the tradition of naming abednedo characters after beastie boys songs #i think i got everyone that wanted to be on the taglist but if i missed you im sorry!!#pls let me know if i did #i'll make a form soon so its easier

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nyarumie · 4 months ago

Text

Ruined Flowers, Beautiful Flowers.

hoshina soshiro x f!reader — 3.6k words. Mentions of stabbing, reader had an outburst, attempt at angst, established friendship, extreme fluff at the end because i cant stand making my characters suffer. Not proofread!

Author's Note: It's my first time writing something involving drama, feedbacks are highly appreciated! I tried my best and got carried away with the length. 💔

Author's Reply: A request from anon here. Kinda hit way too close to home when you said reader is afraid of falling in love 😭 (also guys pls send me Narumi stuff too I want to make more content for my guy)

Ask box is open! Also cross-posted on ao3.

Cheers erupted from your platoon, exhausted strength from the fight seemingly replenished as you dealt the final blow to the Honju once again. Their eyes sparkled with victory, anticipation filling the air as they immediately chatter to plan another celebration for your win. Familiar words of praise reach your ears, but none of them truly reach your heart. What's there to praise about when you're just doing work as expected?

You offer a soft smile to your platoon who is now approaching you, finally engaging yourself in chatter. You were never one for loud occasions, but you have a reputation to keep. They went on about your elegant strikes in battle, your speed and agility that beats even the fastest of lightning, and the reputable “silent, but deadly” strides you have.

“Man, I sure would always keep my distance from our platoon leader! Might get caught up in her Kaiju kill with how silent she attacks, y'know?” one of them joked, a series of awed agreements emerging from the others.

That's right, keep your distance. Getting too close… might just kill anyone.

You close your eyes as you listen, basking in the enthusiasm exuding from your officers. To them, the hushed strides you've perfected in battle is nothing more than a technique. To you, it's just the one thing that keeps your peace, and no one will be able to understand it the way you do.

Except, there's this one person—too persistent for your liking, so much more than your comrades asking you to mentor them. Scratch that, he's not persistent; he's simply way too highly attentive, it scares you just how much about you he already had figured out.

From a distance stands Hoshina Soshiro, the esteemed Vice Captain of the division you belong to. His watchful eyes never miss anything. You fail to ignore his all too familiar peering gaze even as you try to indulge yourself in the antics of your platoon. You don't understand, you never will. Why does he desperately want to unravel you? Closing your eyes really was the best option. That way, you'll avoid making eye contact with him lest he sees through you again, as if he's starting to pick up the puzzle pieces bit by bit. Curiosity getting the best of you, you peeked one eye open to see what he's up to.

Ah, he's now making his way to you. Well, damn him.

Concluding that you have no escape from what's about to come, you sighed and bid your platoon a (short) farewell, leaving them the promise of a celebratory feast tonight. You walked and met him halfway.

Vice Captain Hoshina was already grinning from ear to ear when you neared him, as if he wasn't mentally piercing through your own mind moments ago. You pouted. In an instant, his arm is heavily draped over your shoulder, his other hand playfully ruffling your hair.

A series of complaints were heard from you, only causing him to let out devilish laughs and made an even more mess of your hair.

“Vice Captain! It took me almost an hour to fix and style my hair, and we have a celebration to attend later!” you complained, begging him to stop.

“Fine, fine! Ya did another excellent job today. No wonder Captain Ashiro always trusts you a hella bunch.” he said, satisfied with today's operation. “However…”

And there he goes.

He stood too near you, still hearing clearly enough despite how hushed his voice became. “You're a lot worse today. Still not spillin' the beans? I'm your closest friend here, ya know?”

You looked away from him, finding a car ruined to smithereens apparently far more interesting than whatever this is right now. “Must be your imagination. The Honju just so happened to be tougher today.”

Lie. Today's Honju had a lower fortitude compared to last time. You both know that. And you both know there's no fooling him from what he saw.

You stood atop the Kaiju's corpse after neutralizing it. Back facing everyone, holding your head up high. To the rest of the Division, you were basking in your victory, trying to keep your breath steady after all the action that took place. But there was no fooling Soshiro's eyes.

His keen gaze traveled over your entire figure. Breath ragged, chest heaving as if deprived of oxygen, a clenched grip on your thin, sharp sword forged akin to that of a rapier—in contrast with your lax hand holding your pistol, careful to not fire a shot. You looked like you were in complete agony and exasperation. Soshiro knows that you were heavily sobbing. Silently. Alone. Exactly how you do things your way.

You were only snapped out of your unrest when cheers finally erupted from your platoon. The smile you offer, to a stranger's eyes, is soft and gentle. To him, it's sad—as if it was a struggle for you to smile wide without hesitancy. Your deadly silence in battle wasn't so silent today at all. He can hear it far too well, that each slash of your blade and each shot of your pistol is accompanied with restlessness, each attack heavier than the last.

The Honju has been reported to have no vitals detected, but you kept slashing and shooting, ‘just in case’. Outrageous. You were literally taking out whatever storm is in your head to the Honju's corpse. Not that he minded the Honju, but he cared for you. He is your friend, you can pour your heart and mind out on him instead of a corpse of a monster. Why won't you? Why is the inside of your mind much more different from what you show others? How do you do it?

He doesn't understand. Or maybe he does, but you won't let him in. He wants to be with you, even at your lowest. And he's already failing.

“I see. If the Honju is indeed tougher today,” he started, “then report to me later, Platoon Leader. Post-celebratory report will do. Take it easy for now.”

Was he upset? He rarely addresses you by your position. You carefully turned your head back to him, afraid that he's finally fed up with your bullshit. You're insufferable. Maybe one day he'll ask you to serve another Division. But instead, you see him grace you with a real, soft smile. It makes you want to cry.

'Take it easy for now.' You wish you could unhear it. You hate how easy his words always go through you. How can you take it easy when you try so hard to not be a burden? You don't want him to know any more than he already does.

“...I've no need for rest. But thank you.” You finally feel the tiredness creeping its way through your system.

Post-neutralization banquets are rare, happening annually at most. Somehow, your platoon members managed to smooth talk their way in securing an approval for tonight's celebration. For what, you don't know.

Everyone had their eyes on you when you entered the hall, bright smiles and expectant faces greeting you. This unnerved you, knowing full well what they're requesting with their doe, puppy eyes.

“Ahem. If you're expecting a heartwarming speech, I'm not the person for the job. You all should wait for the Vice Captain for that.” you said, earning a handful of groans from your members.

A hand suddenly lightly ruffled your hair, an action you’ve grown quite accustomed to. “Wait no more! Allow me to handle things, then!” the Vice Captain cheerfully said. Taking this as your cue to sit down, you excused yourself from him, feeling his slightly disappointed gaze trailing you as you sit.

Cheers echoed from the team as he finished his short spiel, everyone’s hunger evident as they hurriedly fill their plates with food. Your tablemates are no different, they're rushing here and there to get the best pieces of meat and pour each other some drinks. You decided to wait, not wanting to contribute to the mess the hall has become.

A plate filled with juicy meat and a bowl of your favorite stew was placed in front of you. Now someone is also taking up your space? About to reprimand whoever placed them in your eating area, you looked up to see that it was just the Vice Captain.

“Eat up. Keep waitin’ for the chaos to calm down and ya will be left with nothin’ to munch on.” He sat beside you, carrying his own set of food.

“Thanks. But I can grab my own fill just fine.” That's what you said, but still started eating what he gave you.

“Mhm… Just accept it in earnest. You never happily accepted any help I offered ya.”

“That’s because no one can give me the help I need.” you absentmindedly said, almost mumbling to yourself. Soshiro remained silent, now looking at you instead of his food. Maybe you shouldn't have said that. “... Let's just eat.”

As the end of the celebration approached, he wanted to test the waters; he got up and collected the plastic flowers adorning the tables, wrapping them around a ribbon he miraculously spotted somewhere—his own version of a small, makeshift bouquet.

He sat down beside you again, earning your attention. You raised your brow at him upon seeing the makeshift bouquet in his hand, a silent question about what he's up to.

“Ta-da! They aren't the real deal, but I did a pretty good job, won't ya say? This one's yours, ya look good with it.” He made a gesture for you to take the flowers, which you did, studying it closely for a while.

“Vice Captain, you shouldn't be taking the establishment’s props.” you said, frowning. “We should get back to your office. Let's get today's report over with.”

Internally sighing, he doesn't know if you're purposely acting dense or just straight up ignoring his subtle advances. Maybe he needs to tell you outright. You once told him that words and actions come hand-in-hand.

It's surprisingly cold tonight even through the heat of the celebrations. He went outside the hall, leaning against the corridor’s wall to wait for you. You told him you have unfinished business to take care of, which is scolding your far too drunk officers who took their drinking competition to another level. Groans and wails from the inside resounded through the door, probably from officers begging you to lighten their punishment.

Finally, he saw you stepping out of the hall. No makeshift bouquet in hand spotted. “Where’d ya put it?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Oh, the flowers? I told you we’re not supposed to take them. So I kinda dismantled the ribbon and put them back in place…” you said, looking away guiltily.

That surprisingly stung, despite knowing you didn't want to intentionally hurt him. He knows you’d leave it there, but dismantling them is another. He struggled putting it all together, after all.

“Makes sense. Let's get the report done.” he smiled, ruffling your hair again. This time, it's his way of saying ‘it’s okay, don't feel guilty about it’.

You threw him a look of concern, the playfulness absent from his smile. “I didn't—”

“Are ya cold?” he suddenly asked. Before you can even answer, he removed his work jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “Please put the sleeves on. Yer hands are shakin’ so bad.”

Oh, you didn't even notice. Silently, you put them on as he asked. It's so… large. And oddly comforting. You hated it, somehow. The sleeves extend way beyond your hands and it would look like a mini dress if zipped up.

Satisfied with this, the Vice Captain started walking, pace slow. You followed suit, opting to walk behind him. You looked confused. You feel overwhelmed. Why is he always doing so much? You prefer your friendly banters, the idiotic laughter you share with each other after stupid musings; you dislike the foreign feeling and lingering intention in each action he does towards you. You don't understand.

He once gave you a poetry book about flowers, saying it was like a reflection of yourself. It wasn't. You told him to stop mocking you.

You never asked for company on boring work days, but he was somehow finding his way towards you, offering an invitation to train new recruits. He knew you loved helping others, imparting your knowledge and watching them grow. You turned him down, saying he's more than capable of mentoring them himself.

Once, you were feeling a bit too competitive. Your platoon urged you on, daring you to make a bet with the Vice Captain. The losing platoon must prepare a banquet according to the winning platoon’s wishes. He can hit you in your sword sparring as many times as he can, but hit him once in the given time limit and you win. But you just so happen to miraculously strike him at the last second. He lost on purpose. But you didn't attend the banquet.

Then a tragedy occured. A citizen hiding from the Honju was left undetected, causing you to accidentally inflict a fatal wound on them as you attacked the Honju. Had you known, you would've prioritized their safety. He didn't have to cover this up. He was there. He should be reprimanding you. You were at a loss then.

You bump into his figure, letting out a sound of surprise. You were already inside his office? Perhaps your mind has been too occupied all the way here, you don't even know if he said something on the way here or when he opened the door for you.

Soshiro looked too serious at the moment. You shouldn't have agreed to report to him, because the Honju being tougher today is bullshit. This leaves you with nothing to report, and god you want to miraculously vanish into thin air at this instant.

“What's goin’ on in that li’l head of yours? It's unlike ya to get so out of focus.” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Vice Captain. I’d like to proceed with the report, please.”

“But ya don't have anything to report. I saw it well with my own two eyes.”

He can barely hear you, your voice only a mere whisper. “...Then report to me instead, Soshiro.”

He walked closer to you, your breath almost stopping. Why is it like this?

"What do ya want to know? I'll give you everything."

Your fists clenched in frustration at his words. He's doing this on purpose, saying something that totally means another.

“Why… Why do you insist on staying by my side? Why do you care so much? I don't understand. You're my friend, but you're doing so much for just a friend. Why do you do these things? The book—the poetry book you once gave me, saying it reminded you of me—it doesn't make sense! It's full of flowery words, it speaks of beauty, but none of those are me. You’ve seen what mess of a person I am. You say you’d give me everything, but I can't even give you a single thing, Soshiro!”

You grabbed the front of his shirt, lowering your head as you failed to stop the tears from flowing.

“You should've let me rot in bed when you found me in a sickly state. Should've reported me to the higher ups for making a careless mistake. Should've distanced yourself from me, I did nothing but unintentionally hurt you when all you wanted was to look out for me.”

You bit your lip, not wanting to spill more than you should've. A warm pair of arms went around you, causing you to cry harder, your body relaxing against your wishes.

“I see. Do my actions confuse you?” he softly asked.

“...I can't accept them.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

Still sobbing, you answered, “I don't know. You confuse me. I don't want to rely on anyone. I don't know what to make of them. I hate the lingering, unspoken intentions. I hate not understanding. I hate pushing you away, but it feels overwhelming when you're too close. I hate the comforting feeling you give me. Please don't waste your energy on me. I’m filled with dirt, my hands are covered in more blood than you know about.”

You’ve never spilled this much before, Soshiro noted. He thinks that's a lot to unpack, but he has all the time in his hands to walk you through it. You were a ticking time bomb, the impending explosion only delayed by taking out your anguish on all the Kaiju you’ve slayed.

Soshiro caressed the back of your head, speaking. “Then I’ll help ya understand. I like you and I like bein’ with ya, even if you think otherwise. If you don't wanna rely on me, then don't. But I’ll be here when ya need me. I’ll walk you through everythin’ slowly if you’ll allow me. And I still think you're as beautiful as the flowers I keep tellin’ you about.”

He tried holding your hand. You pulled it away when you felt his, but he insisted. “And these bloodied hands ya speak of, tell me more, please? The stains might be impossible for you to wash away, but I’ll gladly hold ‘em still.”

He isn't the type to deliberately fool others, even if he humors himself with being a menace to others. You looked at him and was met with surprise as you were met with the soft pair of red eyes and gentle smile you’ve deniably always found comfort in. Were you deserving of this, even after unintentionally turning him away?

You let out a shaky breath, bracing yourself to recall a scenario that has haunted your mind for years.

“A Kaiju attack. Was a yonju. It was small, but I can tell it's dangerous. Grabbed anything sharp, anything heavy I can get my hands on. I closed my eyes and kept swaying my makeshift weapon around, in hopes of defending myself. I know my sister was hiding somewhere, but it all happened too fast. I heard a piercing scream right in front of me. The yonju had found her somewhere and used her as its shield. I didn't know that even a yonju could think of that. I… accidentally stabbed my sister. She died. I should’ve kept my eyes open. I was weak and was only 14 then. Today's neutralization location is the exact same spot where it happened.”

Tears filled your eyes again. “The day… when I accidentally hit a hiding civilian. I felt my mind shut down. The same scenario replayed over and over again. Had it not been for you, both I and the civilian would've been long gone now. I was only able to take a breath when they got stabilized by the medical team.”

“I’m sorry. I understand if you don't want to involve yourself with me anymore. But thank you for… being my friend.”

Instead of letting you go, you felt his arm wrap even tighter. “I told ya, didn't I? I’ll walk with ya through everythin'. What happened then doesn't make you any less of a person in my eyes. You’ve saved more lives than any of us can count. I’m sure yer sister will be immensely proud of ya.”

"And! I haven't kept my end of the deal for our bet. Ya didn't attend the banquet for it."

How persistent. But he's always been like this. It comforts you, how he's still being Soshiro even after your heavy outburst.

You cleared your throat. “You said you like me.”

“Mhm? And what about it?”

“...I’m sorry for unintentionally pushing you away, or if I was rude sometimes. I didn't know how to handle it.”

He let out a laugh of relief. “Dear, that was nothin’ at all! Ya don't have to reciprocate, I only wanted to do what I can for ya. That won't change anytime soon.”

Back to his playful self, he let you go and squished your tear-stained cheeks. “I’ll go with ya anywhere, even if it's straight to hell.”

What a fast turnaround of mood. You don't mind it, though. There's no use drowning in your anguish. You wanted to get better.

You frowned. “Don't want you to go to hell, ‘Shiro.”

“Was kiddin’. Get some rest?”

You tiredly nodded at him, eyes heavy. “Vice Captain. I’m officially giving you a chance. At the same time, I’ll start getting better.”

He shot you an incredulous look. “My title? Really now? Fine then, Platoon Leader, as a reward for taking your first step, let me bestow this upon ya. Close your eyes.”

What is he up to now? You’ll punch him with no hesitation if he kisses you on your lips.

You felt something cold wrap around your wrist, his own hand gripping the back of yours.

“Open up.” He held up your hand to your face level. It's a floral bracelet. He always loves associating you with flowers. You don't understand why, but someday you know you will.

“Perfect match, ain’t it? Now, for the cherry on top…”

His next move took you by surprise. With no hesitation, he kissed your palm. “There. I hope that wasn't too much?”

Receiving no reply, his eyes snapped to your face, worried if he overstepped his newly established boundary.

The sight that greeted him was something to behold. You were looking at anything but him, unable to control the redness of your face. Ah, so that was quite the shot to your heart then?

“Hello? Earth to you?”

“I’m fine! It's okay! Just… not used to it. Do give me a warning next time for my sake, please. And we're not yet in a relationship, mind you.” you said, shyness still evident.

He heartily laughed, still not letting go of your hand. “I’ll walk ya back to your room now. The princess needs her long needed quality sleep.”

And sure enough, it was indeed the most peaceful night you’ve ever had.

#kaiju no. 8 #axia writes for fun #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #kaiju number 8 #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #hoshina #hoshina soshiro #hoshina fluff #hoshina angst

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