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therealslimshakespeare · 5 months ago

Text

|| Radio ||

Requested plot points? ☑️

Circa: early February 1944

Immediate previous fic: Favorite Escape

Summary: when your hodge podge radio won’t work, who should ya call? Probably the flight engineer

Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+ but nothing very alarming really happens in this one, references to others are made, some potential slut shaming in the beginning if ya squint? perhaps some queer baiting but it’s the Buckies rolling around on the flooor, they’re one massive queer bait lbr, it’s not me. Also. My shit Crystal Radio making descriptions- don’t come for me I haven’t made one and I spent five hours falling down a rabbit hole as to how the guys made them in the camps and at the end of the day I said: screw it! And went with one of the Brit’s scenarios 🍻

Edited only by my tired little eyes, full warning and have mercy 💋

Also, just a note I feel compelled to make- this fic centers around women in the army, in a war, which they’re spending under dire conditions in a POW camp. Yes there is love here, there is also hierarchy and discipline and the enforcement of that does not make one character or another necessarily callous or less loving. They are their ranks first and foremost as all signed up for.

“They’re forging papers, you know.” Maureen broached the topic to Egan one day, late February and when her cheeks were still bruised from Ida’s book.

Bucky paused his tracing of a map, sooty finger trailing along a river with the same incomprehensible name as its twin running parallel, he didn’t know anything about papers or anyone making them and she knew that. “Who?”

“Good ones. Identification, passports.” She enumerated.

“Who?”

“The Poles. The ones with the-“

“-the liquor.” he finished for her, remembrance and condemnation heavy in his wry tone. “The ones you stayed out all night with.”

“Stayed long enough for them to get drunk enough to show me.”she replied, without heat, which was surprising.

“Some grand plan of yours, huh?” He bit back a laugh, it was a fine way to cover her ass for being insubordinate. It was a way he’d likely try if he was in her place.

“No.” she swore instead. “Just luck, I happened to see them. They got careless. Maybe an answer to all Jack’s prayers.”

“Yeah. Anything to give that rosary a break.”

“Yeah.”

“You asked them?”

“What for?”

Bucky regarded her with thinning patience but something kept him from snapping, the feeling of a riddle still to be solved. “For some papers.” he clarified, measured and intent, she knew how much easier that would make their plans for Ida.

Maureen shook her head, glancing down at her twisting hands, “I didn’t want to-“ her mouth twisted too, “-I wanted to ask a superior first.”

Bucky considered that for a moment, slightly touched at her newfound wisdom, “Why not ask Buck?”

She shook her head again, auburn hair curling under her chin just so, even here in the stalag she had some traces of the old charm. “He’s got too much to worry about for me to be bringing in hypotheticals.” she was so upset by something she would not even meet John’s eye and he felt a slice of remorse for how he hadn’t even noticed the ground down change in her since she got here, his drinking buddy and the soft fleshed rival of merry old English days was a gruff and battered and sullen woman; being a red blooded American male, he regretted that dismal change. “And I'm worried about what to bargain with. What can I promise? We haven’t got much and I don’t have— there’s not much anyway, but what we’ve got I didn’t wanna promise. Not without-“ she still hadn’t met his eye, he tracked hers; a furious roving of pale blue back and forth across the floorboards and it made Bucky itch.

“Who signs these papers?” Bucky asked, thinking the logistics through, knowing she’d perk up if he brought them up.

“Haven’t a clue. Maybe they haven’t figured that part out yet. I don’t know. I just know they’ve got papers.”

“Good ones.”

“Yeah.”

“We haven’t got much.” he agreed, clicking his teeth in thought, “What’d you give them for the liquor?”

“They just invited me.”

“Didn’t have to lend a hand or nothin’?” he balked and Maureen threw him a glare that seemed more hurt than rage, and chastened by a voice inside that sounded much like his mama’s, he amended with sheepish humor, “Hell, feel like lending a hand myself these days, if it’d get me a whisky.”

Her gnarled fist curled white in her lap, she managed hoarsely, “They just wanted to talk about home. To someone who hadn’t heard about it a million times before.”

“They got cigarettes?” he asked.

“As most common payment for their booze -they’ve got enough to insulate their shack three deep.”

“Cigarettes won’t cut it then.”

“I’ve been thinking.”-

“Yeah?”

“The radio. I’m the only one who doesn’t think it’s worth the risk but, I know, it doesn’t matter, it’s happening. Gale’s going to keep trying. And if it works-“ she rubbed at her eyes, tired and unsure, “-that’s quite the bargaining chip.”

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as his smile grew a touch broader, “News of the outside world.” he was half in agreement, “Buck asked for a week. Been four days.”

“He’s stumped.” Maureen retorted instantly. “And he’ll stay that way and he’ll go nuts and you’ll go die going over the fence and then he’ll have no reason left not to die too.”

Bucky whistled, low and chiding, “You’re full of rainbows today, Candy.”

“You know who he oughta ask.” she shook off the barb. “But he won’t. And I don’t want him risking it for this thing anymore than anyone else, but you all want it so bad, and they’ll shoot us for it if it works or not. I’m not asking her. But you would. Might as well get shot for it working, right? Isn't that what you said yesterday? You know who he should ask.”

Bucky’s keen eyes showed the moment it dawned on him, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth sagged and he ran a weathered hand over his face, “Awww shit, Candy.” came garbled behind his palm. “Ah shit.” he said again with conviction as he shoved the hand into his pocket, wretched acknowledgment of her point clear on his face.

“I didn’t want to suggest it, told Ida it’s a fucking dangerous thing and I’ll never forgive if— but you all—“

Bucky grounded aloud, “Nah, nah she’s -Lu would solve it.” he muttered, shushing her. “Demarco really pummeled you the other day, huh?” he added, and that got her to meet his eye, she looked spooked and a little incensed, “Saw him fuckin’ you up behind B compound but sheesh, s’like he hollowed you out worse than a jacolantern; yer shifty as hell.”

“He-“ Maureen still felt like blanching at the memory of Benny’s terribly correct opinions, his disappointed eyes and his fist full of her flight jacket asking her what in the living fuck was wrong with her besides a concussion, a sick childhood and an ever nauseating jealousy of Buck Cleven’s paternal time and effort, “-he had some admonitions. After…after the other night.”

Bucky hummed, shitty smirk taking up residence on his face, “How ‘bout that.”

“I’m gonna be better.” she muttered and Bucky felt for her, could almost taste the echo of his identical and hollow determination to climb the mountain of bad habits when weak from spuds and pneumonia. He told himself the same every morning and fell into bed condoning his failure every night, like a ritual.

“You’re gonna get us those papers.” he corrected, shoving off the wall to come near her, give her the full Major treatment and maybe a friendly hand, “And you can promise your drinkin’ buddies news from the radio.”

Maureen nodded in understanding, no joy or animation left in her green eyes. She used to enjoy a bit of subterfuge, now she only felt hollow misery at the thought that she'd dragged Lu into this, too. This risk she hated so much and yet no one cared. Lu would be glad to be dragged in, it’s true, she was itching at the chance to be useful and to make Gale proud, it’s how the girl was wired. It’s how most girls were wired, Maureen supposed, desperate to make Gale Cleven approve. Lu’s enthusiasm wouldn’t make the sight of her being made to kneel in the mud and have a bullet put in her head any easier, wouldn’t make Maureen feel any less responsible for it when her lifeless body thudded to the earth.

All that lovely goodness stamped out.

Over a radio.

Bucky’s hand felt too hard and too big on her shoulder. He had gone before the vision cleared, mud and wire and the freezing main square at Ravensbruck fading back to the musty bunk room. Maureen shook herself and stood up to make herself somehow appealing, reamniante some semblance of the cheerful rashness that had led her to the Polish combine in the first place: she found it hard to inspire. She’d like to count that a victory but she knew better, she wasn’t reformed she was just tired.

A washed face and a fake smile and the promise of news from outside would have to be enough to bank all their risks on, it would have to be.

“Crank,” she greeted the man in the hall, flashing him clean, water brushed teeth and her gentlest, freshly soot lined eyes, “I’ve been tasked by Major Egan with an errand, spare a minute to babysit me?”

__________________________________

Bucky finds Buck Cleven in his own bunkroom, Demarco outside on watch and that’s all Bucky needs to know to guess the radio is out and Buck’s working like a fiend yet again to make it work. Sure enough, he’s hunched over the table with it, mittened hands shaking from cold and exhaustion and a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the paltry sweater he wears.

Bucky walks in and Gale gives him a soft, acknowledging glance before continuing to his work. Bucky takes up his usual place behind Buck’s left shoulder to watch and Buck, being used to it, goes on.

“My little Kriegie Marconi, huh?” Bucky allows the nagging impulse he has felt for weeks while standing in this position to finally exert itself, and his forefinger lifts and swirls in the curling gold strands of hair at the nape of Gale’s neck, his friend almost bolts away but then seems to choose a prey’s tactic and just stills, goes very still and Bucky scritches the scalp beneath his grab in assurance he don’t meant anything by it. He doesn’t think he does, at least.

Gale, wary and with a voice close to mechanized it’s so stilted, inquires with ever-present politeness, “You alright Bucky?”

It’s better than that whole ‘major’ business; getting called Major as if that meant shit anymore. “Yeah, ‘course I am.” Bucky rakes his fingers through the hairs there at the nape of that dainty neck, scritches the scalp with all four of his main ones, and uncovers a white long scar sliding round once he lifts the hairs there. “Why wouldn’t I be? Gonna be a father soon.”

Buck does jerk then, away from his touch and wheeling his chair around to glare at Bucky; it’s an impressively executed little pirouette and John misses the feel of his warm neck and oil soft hair. “Jesus John.” he reprimands.

“We’re gonna get outta here Buck.” John swears, he’s so sure of it because he cannot in all his thinking and predicting ever imagine a scenario where they don’t, and he chooses to think it’s not delusion but a good omen. “Ida’s gonna have that baby and when it’s safe we’ll all meet up.”

Gale is looking at him like he’s his own father again, Bucky knows that look, it always makes him equal parts ashamed and desperate, “Jus’ like that.” Gale mocks in a husky gust.

It’s devastating, and it’s intended to be, and Bucky could bear that with better humor if he could still touch Gale and his hair. “Just like that.”

Gale hums and it’s a mean sorta vocalization that makes Bucky’s heart thud and his skin prickle hot, it’s the kinda noise you kiss off a person, he thinks, but it’s Buck and so he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It’s gonna get you killed.” Buck is saying instead and Bucky lets him, “I know you all think she’s cracked up and maybe she has but it wouldn’t hurt to listen to Kendeigh sometimes when she’s tellin’ ya shit that a five year old could accurately guess, -goddamn it.”

His voice rose to a strong rage by the end and Bucky takes a chair opposite him, sick of standing there like a dumb dog waiting for his scolding to be over. “So what.” Bucky challenges him, “We just wait around and Brady pops out a child and the krauts let us keep it and it’s our new mascot and we all sing zippidy doo da, huh? Huh, Buck?”

Gale’s hands fell away from his face with a slam to the table, a shocking degree of anger showing for a split second and it gave Bucky an odd degree of gratification. “I jus’ want you to find a plan with better odds.”

Bucky sniffed and leaned forward, went in for the kill and Gale was looking at him like he expected it, like it was his turn to play daddy to everyone here and Gale for once was so beaten down he wouldn’t just allow the changing of the guard, he was close to angry at its lateness. It made Bucky’s heart thud.

“I’ve been listening to Kendeigh.” Bucky refuted briefly, “And we’ve got a plan.” Gale gave him a tired look of encouragement to go on, “How long’s it been since you slept? Huh, well, we got a plan. Practically perfect, or it will be, just need the radio.”

“Ain’t giving this away.” Gale said, “Not for anythin’, even useless.”

Bucky patted the table top in easy assurance, if he could have reached Buck’s thigh, he’d have patted that instead, “No, no, don’t need to give it away, just need it to work. So,” he softened his voice and his eyes tightened, “I’m callin’ Lu in.”

Oddly, Gale does not fight it. Not aloud, at least. There’s an anguished look of hate on his face and Bucky mirrors it. It’s for this place and the fucking awful choices they have to choose from every goddamn day.

“You run this by Ida?” is all he asks.

Bucky pops his flaking lips audibly, “What, need us both gangin’ up on you to agree? She’ll sign off. Smith’s an officer. Gotta remember that sometimes, Buck.”

The way his Buck swallows hard and dry contradicts his words, “I do remember that.”

“Really?” Bucky’s mouth gives a soft smile of doubtful incredulity and Gale’s mimics it, mournful but a smirk all the same, “Feel like she should answer to ‘Gale’s Baby’ these days. Lieutenant Smith who?”

Gale scoffs, “Careful now.”

“No really, she’s an officer and she wants to be treated like one. It’ll do her good to have work. Her kinda work.”

“Could get her killed.”

“Layin’ in her bunk could do that.”

Gale grunts, its sounds like an agreement.

“So I say Lieutenant Smith gets put on radio detail. Like her goddamn job description suggests. Huh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gale lets out a shaky agreement.

“Aaaaand,” Bucky draws it out as he rises again and saunters over to Buck who is ready for him and loose this time, “how bout I go back to bein’ the one you’re frettin’ ‘bout all the time. Got me almost jealous of the girl. How ‘bout I do. Huh?”

Gale’s scoff is fond as anything as he looks up at John with cheerful derision, “And you ‘bout to be a father? Make me an old man? Fuck no, ya looney.”

“Alright.” Bucky concedes with hands up in surrender before lurching forward and grasping Gale’s rickety chair back by its wobbly spokes and hefting it partially off the ground, beautiful and outraged prude of an occupant still seated in it, “Then I’ll play daddy and put you to bed, how ‘bout that.”

“John Egan for fucks sake-“ Gale’s fists pounded on the meat of his shoulders and his outraged protests wafted against Bucky’s neck and his jabbing knees collided with the meat of his thighs and Bucky hadn’t felt so close to him or so happy to be alive since England.

“Major sir, the hell is goin’ on?” Demarco’s tame inquiry from the safety of the doorway made them both lose their grapple and they collided together onto the floor, bunk bed barely missed by their heads and the hapless chair mixed up between their limbs.

Bucky grinned, hip sore from his fall and kidneys suffering from Buck’s trapped elbow there, “Puttin’ Goldilocks to bed.” he replied.

DeMarco processed that and the scene before him with grave sobriety before saluting lazily and turning to go, “Right on, sir.”

John did his best to rise up without further pinching Gale who was indeed trapped beside him and beneath him, chair legs wound between a lanky human leg in a puzzle that Bucky realized might take some caution to untangle without harm. Strangely, Buck wasn’t moving, he was just looking up at him like a cat would their clumsy master who has done somethin’ stupid which was a surprise to neither. It was so innocuous a look and so nostalgic, it winded Bucky with the realization he hadn’t seen it in ages, just as he hadn’t felt his boney ribs against his own and the feel of his elegant hands yanking him around in a fight. This miserable place really was stomping out the glow in the best people.

“Ya know Buck,” he ventured, clearing his throat for extra casualness, “I’ve missed you.” When Gale only kept looking up at him, perfect porcelain face with its unsettling scars and wary eyes without a lick of storm in them, John Egan grabbed his shovel and dug his own grave a little deeper, drug a finger down his cheek. “Missed all this.”

Bucky didn’t know what he meant by “this” but it felt safer and worse all at once, since he did miss Buck but he and Buck never used to hang out on floors with a chair as chaperone. Mercifully, Buck neither points that out nor moves away, acting very much like he needed to heaped on the floor with Bucky and a stray chair every bit as much as John did. Like it’s doing him good.

“And you couldn’t’ve jus’ said.” Gale murmurs with the softest eye roll of the century and Bucky feels like beaming and it must show in his face so strong and bright after a sunless winter that after a flash Gale’s cheeks flame from it and he averts his eyes.

“I dunno Buck, could I?” Egan asks one blushing cheek and Gale hasn’t got a good reply for that, so they just lay there on the floor.

“Go on now, get off me.” Gale doesn’t shove at him, he presses his hand to John’s forehead like he would a dog and John goes, obedient as one.

———————————————————————-

They found Lu with Murph and Benny and Brady, measuring out what seemed to be lot lines between Love Shack #9 and the next combine, boot scuffed perimeters already visible in the light snow and drawn in a decently tidy rectangle. There were guards loitering nearby, nosey as always with their cigarettes and their antsy dogs anytime someone did something out there besides piss or pace or stare at the fence.

“What’s all this?” Bucky inquired cheerfully, coming up to them with Gale, bundled and shivering behind him.

Benny looked up from tilling a furrow with his boot, right where Lu’s mittened finger pointed out. “It’s for the garden. S’posed to be spring before long.”

“A Chicago man oughta know better, Benny.” Egan snarked.

“Need us?”

Bucky sniffed, a casual set to his body that belied his quest, “Just the little one.”

Smith promptly looked startled, then eager. “All well Majors?”

“Need your advice on the color of my cufflinks with this suit.” Bucky extended his arm and beckoned her, “C’mon back in for a minute. One of you too, need a watch to go with the cufflinks.”

———————————————————————

With Benny on guard, Brady and Kendeigh having excavated the radio’s shell from the floorboard and table leg in which it resided, the Buckies stood over Smith’s small frame as she sat at the table and inspected the simplistic device with keen eyed appreciation for the construct.

“It’s really marvelous.” she assured Cleven, running her fingers over the carefully coiled wire and precarious pin.

Gale didn’t even crack a smile. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked instead.

She shook her head, a frown gathering. “Never made one-“ she cautioned.

“-but you get the idea.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“So what’s wrong.”

Lu ran her fingers over the wire, again and again, the dusty metal not insulated, just bare copper, likely stripped from somewhere. It reminded her of early days as a cadet when they threw chicken wire mixed with hydraulic lines at herself and her fellow rookie engineers and told them to sort it, testing to see if they knew which was which. It had been so rudimentary she had wanted to laugh until she realized others were being flunked.

This was so basic she was stumped.

“Take your time, Lu.” Bucky spoke up after a burdened pause during which she could almost feel Major Cleven breathing down her neck.

“Candy, can I try with the headphone?” she asked at last, frustrated and out of her element, just a few months out of a plane and she had already lost her touch.

Maureen passed it over and Lu pressed it to her ear, not to discern what was quite obviously radio silence, but to imagine the whole process in reverse, track it down the cord all the way to the base, each possible breakdown of the conduction.

She fingered the ramshackle diode with burgeoning suspicion. “What’s your crystal?”

“That’s just…lead.” Cleven muttered.

“From?”

“Ground pencils.” Bucky supplied cheerfully.

Smith bit her lip, “We need sulfur added. Lead won’t conduct on its own.” She figured Cleven knew that, the grim and unmoving set of his mouth suggested so.

“Just- sulfur?” Maureen asked.

“If I had sulfur we could add it to the lead dust, ignite it and-“ Smith grinned at Kendeigh, knowing that she alone may have shared her enjoyment of a small conflagration from time to time, “burn it down and you’ve got something close enough to Galena. Just need a pinch of it should work.”

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed the mostly morose room. All except for the two girls grinning at each other over the hypothetical of a little chemistry experiment in a highly flammable wooden combine.

“We’ve got sandy soil.” Buck’s contemplative drawl spoke up, “Dunno if we could extract enough pure sulfur.”

Maureen stared back at Egan instead, “Other sectors have gotten portions of kits, chemistry kits, radio kits, they’ve been smuggled in with all sorts of stuff. Inside of a violin, oat bags. Nothing to fully build something. They might have sulfur. I could make inquiries and- well, Jack could pick it up next time the band goes over C compound to entertain the poor Aussie bastards.”

“How do you kno- nevermind, actually. Nevermind.” Bucky broke off, “Alright. Sure, why not. Ya sure that’s it?” he asked Lu once more.

She gave a helpless little shrug. “Gotta be. Or the wire’s dirty. Where’d it come from anyway?”

Gale gave Bucky a long suffering look as Bucky seemed to swell a couple inches and bounce back on his heels at the mention of his scrounging prowess. “The lamp.” he nodded above them all.

Jack Brady scoffed, short, clipped, betrayed, “That why it cuts out all the time? Strobed us so bad last night -thought the room was possessed.”

“Sacrifices Jack, sacrifices.”

———————————————————

Benny had hauled in enough water buckets to elicit some negative attention from the guards, and when the inspection came the inmates of the Love Shack insisted the drenched floors and table of the Majors’ barracks were due to sanitation post regurgitation. At night, with only one stolen torch light from Combine 15 to illuminate the endeavor, a basin of water beneath a smaller bowl in which lay their precious and recently procured ingredients, a science experiment began. The Majors and Ida gathered round, all looking as ghastly and spectral in the light of the flashlight as Brady’s fake ghost. It held the thrill of a bonfire night except for the stakes, which all in the room did their best not to dwell on.

“Zippo, Candy.” Lu gave the word and Maureen, with only the protection of Ida’s bent aviators to keep from a scorched cornea, flicked on her lighter and set the mixed powders ablaze.

It flamed up high and smelly, making Benny gag and mutter something about Meatball’s gas to a tittering Brady, and then died down to a yellow smoking ember.

“We should let it sit.” Lu surmised with a squeeze to Maureen’s only somewhat singed hand, her big dark eyes surveying the burnt bowl and their smoking experiment with glittery excitement at the possibility of success, “Let it cool, settle, maybe strain it. Can you get me a net? Oh Candy come now, get me a strainer?” she begged with a laugh as Maureen rolled her eyes at the idea of yet another trip to the Stalag Market for the most random items imaginable. If they hoped to not be suspicious, they’d need better lies or more money.

“How about cheesecloth?” Kendeigh tried not to grin indulgently- and failed- in the face of Lu and having recently been allowed to set something on fire

Lu kissed her cheek. “Cheesecloth would be perfect.”

In the end, cheesecloth did indeed prove perfect, and amongst the burnt dust of the combined minerals was a gritty little pinch full of the needed crystals. Or so Lu said, Gale agreed but the crease between his brows hadn’t lifted for two days; Bucky’s fingers had begun to twitch in antsy need to manually smooth them out. He imagined Maureen felt the same but she hadn’t said, uncharacteristically forbearant now she had some job to keep her sane. Even if it was playing fetch for Lu.

—————————————————————

“Well, this is it.” Gale muttered when the watch had been set once more, Murph and Hambone on the steps, Crank inside, Brady at the door, Benny at the window. Even Major Clark had joined them in the barracks for this final try and Lu’s cheeks were maroon from the attention even as her deft hands steadily pressed her concoction beneath its intended rod.

“Pass me the pliers, sir?” She asked and for a moment, the teacher became the apprentice and Gale fetched her the stalag forged tool, rudimentary like everything here yet the gripped and pulled and lifted same as the pliers back home. “You could check your look in this wire’s reflection.” She complimented Gale’s buffing of the copper wire.

He shrugged in turn. “Didn't wanna leave anythin’ to chance. That it?” he asked as her hands stalled and she surveyed her work.

Lu nodded solemnly. “Yes sir.”

Gale picked up the headphone from in front of him on the table like it was a gun he was about to bring to his head. “Here.” He extended it to her instead, “S’right, it was your job, you should be the first. Cmon.”

Despite her voiceless protest he pressed the headphones into her hands and Lu, never knowing how to disobey an officer, folded immediately.

For a good ten seconds everyone in the room held their breath as Smith pressed the headphone to her ear and gently wiggled the clothespin along the wire, searching and tuning, her face holding that old peaceful concentration they hadn’t seen since the last mission. She was at home with her mind tuned to another dimension. The pilots in the room knew that look, that was the look of someone at home with something that terrified them all the same, the gut swooping feeling of clearing the take off and sledding along the tops of the clouds. Wrong and strange and utterly incomparable to others, it was the closest to home one’s mind could be. Lu belonged somewhere on those electric currents and searching them out was like finding oneself again.

Then at last, Lu’s eyes sharpened out of their dreamy haze of concentration and she said, gentle as always, “It’s the BBC sir.”

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morosis-haze · 2 years ago

Text

Bakugou slowly moving you into his apartment

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!black reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: a curse word I believe that’s it

❒ Bakugou who doesn’t really want to admit it, but he’s been getting used to your presence on those days you come over to the point he wants you to stay the night

❒ Bakugou who was asking or coming up with excuses on why you shouldn’t leave “There’s a few more episodes til we finish the season” You might as well stay on the couch cuddled up with him only a few more episodes until you could leave, right?

❒ It was all a plan leading to the “It’s late you should stay over tonight” He says it like he didn’t have you stay at his place until it was pitch black. How could you argue it was normal to not want your girlfriend out late there were a bunch of dangerous things that lurked the night, even if you’re also a pro hero who could defend yourself fine until you get home

❒ Bakugou who heard you talk about how multiple mornings and nights he is ruining your routine so he gets stuff you need

❒ It started small with him buying another toothbrush paired with a cover on it, it stood next to his in the cup. If you ask about it he’ll only say “So? You’re over here so damn much complaining about not having a toothbrush.” He acts as if you’re the one inviting yourself over

❒ “Maybe I’ll come over less.. y’know actually sleep in my apartment” You see his gaze flicker for a second before he grunts out “Well that’s not needed anymore” he moves onto a different topic ignoring the teasing smile on your face

❒ Bakugou kept slowly trying to move you in never mentioning it to you. He’d rather not deal with you being smug. That wasn’t gonna help though.

❒ Next time you come over to Bakugou's apartment you smell the scent of your favorite candle that said man had previously complained about when he was at your place “I thought you hated this scent” he looks at you as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about “What scent?” You point to the recently burned-out candle “It grew on me” he rolls his eyes seeing you smile about it, but you can see the slight pull of one on his face

❒ You were both coming from a party a class 1a reunion if you will though there seems to be plenty of those as the students all got close over the years. Bakugou was the one who picked you up and was gonna drop you off home though he had different plans.

❒ You were busy about to post pictures of Mina and you along with the rest of the girls when you finally look up onto the road “Isn’t this the way to your apartment?” You glance at him as he continues “ ’m too tired to notice… you wanna just sleepover?”

❒ Maybe he really was tired and used to all the times of you staying over it was becoming an instinct. You were able to see the weary expression on his face and you didn’t wanna make him turn back around to drop you home so you’ll stay over…again

❒ Used to all the nights over here you go into one of his drawers planning on wearing something of his own but you notice everything in it is different it’s not a lot, but there were now a few clothes in your size and there were three bonnets in different colors and patterns

❒ “Katsuki are you changing your style?” He goes into his room raising an eyebrow at your question “You know I didn’t really take you for the bonnet kinda guy, especially one of this color but you do.” You picked up a patterned one a smug look on your face

❒ He huffs electing to ignore your comment too tired to be bothered he mutters “It’s for you” before he goes back into the bathroom letting you change in his room

❒ You get done changing and head to the bathroom knocking on the door before being allowed in you brush your teeth alongside him as you both finish up he nods to something on the counter you didn’t notice it was your favorite cleanser

❒ You both continue with your routines before heading to bed he seems to have a small smile on his face maybe because you aren’t complaining or seeing you look even slightly happier from his actions improved his mood

❒ The weeks continue you stay a little longer in the morning and you’re not as reluctant on staying the night. Bakugou gets more things for you, anything to make you more comfortable so maybe you could stay longer than last time

❒ Your favorite snacks were in his pantry, a duplicate of your lotion next to his so you no longer use up your travel-sized bottle from your purse, but what you weren’t expecting is the new silk pillowcases

❒ Bakugou may have overheard Mina talking about her new pillowcases and how they’re so amazing, as he listened it sounded like it could benefit you so he looked into it

❒ Sure he could’ve just given them to you for your own bedroom, but he used them in his even though the purpose of them being here is for you

❒ “I can’t tell if you’re getting bougie or if you genuinely wanted silk pillowcases..” you joked looking at the man as he climbed into his bed with you “They’re good for your hair and shit” “Good for my hair… you got silk pillowcases because of me?” He doesn’t look at you as he answers “There are other benefits it’s not just cause of you...”

❒ There goes a smug expression returning back to your face “Careful I might just stay here forever, Katsuki” You give him his goodnight kiss before laying down as he turns off the lights you hear him say “Maybe that’s what I want”

𝐀/𝐍: Back from the hiatus I’ll be redoing my taglist so if you want to join it fill out this form

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controld3vil · 10 months ago

Text

chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to rebecca ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

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annicht · 8 months ago

Text

teamwork

Kuroo Tetsurou x reader | very suggestive fluff

word count: 1.8k

Warnings: post timeskip Kuroo x coworker! reader, fluff nsfw-ish language

@ anni says: I'm Kuroo Tetsurou's whore. neways, this was just another self indulgent drabble that was lost in my drafts. [cover by loony, go give her some lov]

the lingering stares, the coffee excuses, the light subtle touches while exchanging papers, the gossipy chatting every lunch break,

the way you look so goddamn hot when you’re focused in your work and how that sometimes distracts him from his own work…

and also the inhuman strenght he needed to gather to divert his stare from your plump thighs when you cross your legs under the desk… the privileged view from his desk across from yours can be also a burden sometimes

and then there’s that damn high heels you use… not often, though. only when there’s important meetings. makes you feel more confident, you said once. but god, when you use it he just want to lay on the floor for you to step on him

there’s more and more and so much more about the office bond he shares with you that irks him both in the right and wrong ways.

working in the JVA marketing implied that your most strong stakeholder was the promotion division, once the areas needed each other to thrive

therefore, makes total sense that you and Kuroo were so close to each other, right?

so it’s normal when you’re training a new intern and he tags along with the excuse to help you, but spends the whole time glaring menacingly at the guy when he stares at your cleavage a little to much, isn’t it?

or when he passes by your desk, leaving a chocolate every other week, with his handwriting in a note thay says “that presentation was sick, congratulations ;]” or “you deserve a raise, but take this chocolate in the meantime >:)” or some other silly thing that makes you smile

your eyes always dart to him, flashing a playful smile

but you also can’t help but think to yourself that he wanna fuck you so bad— and the thought itself is so entertaining that you shake your head, snorting, as he eyes you puzzled

the tension is clear for you as much as it is for him… he, too, checked all your boxes. a handsome smoking hot smart and competent man that has his eyes set on you? you’d be crazy not to enjoy

so, eventually, you would throw paper balls at him while he’s focused, making him roll his eyes and smirk

but also, you bring him coffee when you go get it for you. you know how he likes, he works so close to you, why wouldn’t you bring him one too?

and the glint in his eyes makes it worth it every damn time

neither of you were making the first move so soon, but everyone in the office knows about the unspoken bond you share, gaining some attention in gossip groups around the floor

but then, one day, you were working until very late, apparently alone at the office.

and suddenly, he popped up back in the office after having left already, with a can of beer, a loosened tie, two buttons opened, walking torwards your desk, placing the beer on your desk, beside your papers

you looked at him tilting your head puzzled

“Where did you get that?”

“At the bar across the street”

you tilted your head even more

“You were at the bar across the street and came back to the office to hand me a beer?”

“Exactly”

he said matter-of-factly, making you snort. his words were subtly slured, indicating he drank enough to get at least tipsy

“Why?”

“Why not?”

he answered shrugging, and you read through his attempt to divert the topic. but you also know he’s very stubborn, so you just brush it off

“How did you even know I was still in the office? It’s late…”

you say, while opening the can and looking at the hour on your computer

“It’s the first Monday of the month, you always stay late finishing the monthly report… Besides, I saw the light on from across the street… just put two and two together”

“Damn, you’re good—”

you say, amazed at how he memorized your routine by now, while sipping your beer, sighing as the cold liquid soothes your tense muscles, feeling the last motivation to end the report today getting obliterated

he watches your every move like a hawk, walking sneakly behind your chair to rub your shoulders

you sigh, feeling a chill down your spine with his touches, humming softly with the massage

“You’re done with the report?“ he asked, his fingers rubbing circles in your back muscles, sliding to your shoulders. you lean in his touch

“No… But I think I can finish it tomorrow morning,” you reply, trying to suppress the pleasure in your voice from his magical touch.

he chuckles lightly, lowering his torso to lean closer, his breath hitting your neck, making you shiver embarrassingly

“That’s what I thought,” he says softly, his hands never ceasing their movements, the tension that’s been building between the two of you for months feels like it’s finally reaching a boiling point

before things get awkward, you start to stand up from your chair, closing your laptop on the desk, sipping your beer casually,

he took advantage of the moment to pull your chair away, leaning closer, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth on your ear

“Don’t I deserve a… reward… for the beer and the massage?”

he whispered, his words borderline suggestive, the warmth of his breath making your heart race, his arms encircling your waist in a new way… despite your supposed closeness, it’s the first time you feel him this close.

his voice is like velvet, seductive and irresistible, making you question if this was a good idea.

you pathetically place your free hand on the desk to anchor yourself, feeling the weight of the intensity that has been building between you

”Is that what you’ve been thinking about all this time? Pinning me on the desk when there’s no one around?“

you whisper back, your voice dropping to a sensual tone as you lean back in his chest, looking at him through your shoulder

the tension is palpable, your mutual attraction finally coming to a head. you put your beer down on the desk, meeting his gaze with a daring look, ready to cross the line you’ve been flirting with for so long.

“And what if I have?” he whispers back, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. “What are you going to do about it?”

his challenge hangs in the air between you, a gauntlet thrown down, waiting for you to pick it up.

and that’s exactly what you do.

you turn around to face him, raising your chin to line your mouth with his, as his hands unconsciously sneak around your waist and your hands rests on his chest

“I might just finally kiss you… would that be bad?”

his eyes darken when he realizes you’re on the same page, his hands working to pull you closer.

“That might be the best idea you’ve ever had,”

and just like that, you two give up, succumbing to the tension building for months,

he leans in, or you lean in… its indistinguishable who kissed who first, but you capture each other’s lips in a heated intense kiss, your tongues already seeking each other’s and you taste the faint malt of the beers he had earlier, sighing with the deliciousness of it all

he gives one step further, boxing you on the desk behind, making you lean back, his hand traveling down your hips

you retaliate, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting softly, making him groan

he pushes his tongue inside your mouth again, and you gladly take it, sucking on it, kissing him back with the same passion

it feels almost relieving having him like this after so much tension building. it feels right.

he parts the kiss, but keeps his lips on your jaw, leaving a trace of wet kisses down, reaching your neck

you lean your head back, giving him free reign there, which he gladly take it, switching from kisses to bites, making you moan softly

your moan unlock something primal in his brain, and one of his hand on your hips travel down your thigh, reaching the back of your knee, pushing up on his waist, while the other arm encircle your waist, pushing you flush against him

all that while assaulting your neck with languig nibbles, and you can’t help but let out a chuckled moan with a smug smile

“Fuckk… eagerrr, are we?”

you say, low and purring, and the way you draw the words from your mouth goes straight to his pants, making his cock twitch, unconsciously grinding his hips against your thigh.

he grins, groaning a little in your neck, the tone vibrating against your chest

it takes you the damn last bit of strenght to knock some sense into him

“Mmhm… Kuroo… there’s cameras in the office… ”

you say slightly breathless, threading your fingers in his hair, gripping, trying to pull him away from your neck

“Call me Tetsurou”

he say lowly and you can’t help but huff a breathy chuckle

“Tetsurou…” you say, rolling his name from your tongue, liking the sound of it “there’s cameras—”

“They’re not gonna check the cameras unless something gets stolen…”

“We’re not fucking in the office,” you say categorically, your last ethical straw working doubled against the wetness in your panties

he parts from your neck, looking straight at you with hazel hazy eyes, his lips curling in his famous lazy smirk with a hint of smugness

“Oh? So we are fucking then?”

you narrow your eyes, he got you now.

you snort, grabbing his tie and pulling him for another kiss, mumbling a quick “Shut up”

he kiss you while chuckling against your mouth, his hand on your thigh progressing further, sliding your skirt up and invading under the hem of the clothing, feeling the soft skin he drooled so many times before—

“Not here, Tetsuro—”

he grumbles, releasing your thigh and raising his hands in mocking surrender

“Okay, okay… I get it” he says, then he takes your hand, pulling you closer to him “but you’re coming to my place now, and I’m not taking no for an answer”

as you two leave the workplace giggling and holding hands, your coworkers on the bar across the street watch the scene, all ready to let the gossip spread, but also knowing it was bound to happen eventually

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsurō #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #post time skip haikyuu #JVA

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months ago

Text

Rumors and the bastards of one Aegon Targaryen II.

Aegon Targaryen II x wife!reader

Summary: Aegon spent his time on the Silk Streets; rumors always spread. When Aemond encourages the truth of one, Aegon's wife is mortified.

Warnings: brothels, alcohol, being drunk, rumors, miscommunication

A/n: I am an Aegon hater BUT listen listen listen- I hated the fighting pit allegations with his "bastard children" that the twins talk about in the show. Do I think he had bastards? YES. Do I think he did all that? NAH. Also- this was supposed to be based on an ask but I may write another one with that ask cause I don't think I did that part justice

Masterlist

.....................................................

His wife was not a useless woman who spent her time doing deemed "meaningless" tasks like embroidery. She was well studied, and well spoken. She was not pushy. Alicent would never have let a woman control her son like that. But she found easy ways to state her thoughts while still being considerate to her husband.

A woman like that felt like one of a kind.

Aegon knew that in his mind. Somewhere deep down.

But he didn't change his habits when she came around. He still spent some of his nights in the streets of King's Landing, causing trouble and problems everywhere he went.

Everyone knew of Aegon's "night adventures," though none talked of it. It was not something you bring up during a council meeting or spoke of in the corridors.

…

After a particularly long night out, Aegon rolled over in his bed, covering his eyes as he cringed at the sunlight streaming throughout his room.

This is why he didn't want to be king. Duty awaited him.

He was reminded that with the insistent knock on his door and his servant reminding him of the council meeting only minutes away.

He yawned, groaned with a stretch, and stood to slowly dress himself.

He could take his time, after all. No meeting started without the king.

…

Now a little more conscious, he entered the council room with a creak of the large doors. It earned the attention of everyone at the table.

Criston sat at the King's right side. The queen dowager was next to him and Aegon's wife after that. Aemond at the end. The table went round with others as well, but none were as connected in the king's life as those four.

Y/n had always gotten along with Aemond. When Aegon was off sullying the Targaryen name, she spent time with Aemond in the castle's large solar, studying quietly alongside him. Different topics, but the shared silence was comforting.

And Aemond almost felt a guilt when he looked at her. Especially today when her husband entered the council meeting late with a staggered step and a clear look that said 'I did things I shouldn't have last night.'

The council was quiet at first, the awkwardness eating any things they had to talk about.

But once the talk of war started, the two brothers began to argue and the council meeting had truly begun.

The queen stayed quiet, her eyes set on the table, her fingers fidgeting absentmindedly with her stone and its place at the table.

Aegon never really had his arse in his seat. He loved to pace. When the arguing grew to anger, he set his anger on anything that annoyed him, prompting him to once point out his wife's fidgeting. Her cheeks turned red and she forced her hands away from the table.

But soon Aemond stood as well, eager to point out his plan in their map. As he did so, he took the long path around, passing by his brother's wife. In his hand was his own stone, which he set on the table in front of her without even looking her way or slowing his pace.

It rolled towards the edge of the table and she caught it, silently thanking his support.

He felt like he owed it to her for what he had done yesterday.

…

"I'll never understand," Aemond muttered, breaking the prolonged silence of their studying.

Her eyes never moved from her page. "Understand what?"

He rolled up the scroll he had focused on and set it aside. "Him. Being so irresponsible."

Their eyes met, and neither had to question who he was speaking of.

"He did not want this," was her soft reply.

"Neither did you. And still you defend him. You did not wish for a man who spends his time with ale and women rather than home and duty."

Her eyes softened as his words hurt her. "I am Queen of the Realm. Me. Anyone would kill for my seat. One woman of the millions here."

"That means nothing." His eye pierced hers deeply. The gaze of Aemond Targaryen, though only half the gaze of a normal person, was double in the way it would see right through you. It made even tough men flinch. He leans over his papers. "He should be here, spending his time with his wife so she may do her duties."

"H- He does," she tries to defend. "Sometimes."

"Right before he passes out from all he's drank." There's no defense for that. He was right. "My queen, it's not that he can't make heirs with you. He just doesn't with you."

"What?"

His eye darkens. "How do you fancy an adventure down the Silk Streets of King's Landing?"

…

The meeting was over with the wave of Aegon's hand, thank the gods, and they all stood to leave.

"Except you, brother. You'll stay."

Y/n takes her time leaving, seeing both brothers' eyes roam over her for a moment before she left them to talk.

…

She sat by the fire. Since she had lived here, the servants had all begged her to sit in chairs or sofas near the fire rather than on the hard floor directly in front of it, but none held the same feeling that she desired.

She always had a cloak or fur of some sort on the floor, a small nest of sorts always awaiting for her to come back to the flames.

She had asked for a needle and thread, struggling to embroider on one of her skirts as she tried to relieve stress. But she'd never really done so before and it looked messy and her hands were too gruff with it.

Aegon entered after a few minutes. He didn't knock. He never did.

His eyes took in the room slowly until they settled on her. He tilted his head and stepped further into the room until he could feel the heat of the fire. "Aemond doesn't know what he speaks of."

"Aemond only told me the truth. I don't see why you have to lie."

He shifts his weight. "I-I told him to stop meddling in your affairs. He's far too close."

She turns her head but doesn't look over her shoulder. "He's been kinder than… most."

That hurt Aegon more than he wanted to admit. "What did he show you? What did you see?"

She begins to sew faster, as if it's a quick sport. "Does it matter? You're the king. Your affairs are none of my bu-"

"-I want you to speak to me," he said with a desperate tone. "How can I keep a kingdom together if I cannot even communicate with my wife?"

"How many?"

His head tilted again in confusion. "How many what?"

She turned her body this time, pausing her efforts on the fabric to look at him. "How many of your bastards run around King's Landing?"

Silence.

This was not a comforting silence like the solar with Aemond.

This was a silence that suffocated you.

Aegon tore his gaze from her face in embarrassment to look down at his shoes. Like they needed his attention over the woman in front of him.

She tried again. "How many, Aegon?" Her voice quivered with his name and it send sharp spikes down his spine.

When he dared to look back up at her, he saw unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

"I-" he stopped himself. What answer did she want? What answer did he even want? "I don't see how that's relevant."

His deflection forced a sob out of her. It was light and painful, a slow withering of her from the inside out.

Aegon deemed himself useless when it came to tears.

His jaw went slack for a moment, his eyes just watching in slow motion as his stomach jolted. He blinked and shift his weight again. "I…. I d- stop doing that."

It was a ridiculous ask. They both knew that. But she turned away from him as if keeping it from his sight was enough.

He watched her shoulders shake with each weep as her fingers tried to pull the needle through the fabric. He closed the distance more, now daring to kneel at her side. He had no idea how to comfort a situation like this. "You have never liked needlepoint," he softly pointed out.

It was a long while before she answered. Sniffle. "I have never liked you either. Yet here I am with both."

That forces him back to rock on his heels. She was quick and had a sharp tongue. It was thoroughly impressive- when it wasn't painful like this.

The only sounds that echoed in the room were her sniffles and the occasional clicks and pops of the fire in front of them. And her tugging of the thread through the fabric.

Finally, he spoke.

"Two."

Her fingers paused. "What?"

"I've fathered two bastards."

Her head snaps back to him, but he makes no hurry to look at her. The flames dance in his eyes as he stares off.

"Only two?"

Aegon finally lulled his head to look at her. "Two."

"You sound sure."

"I am sure. I'm very sure." He reached up, wiping away a stray tear off her cheek. Once gone, he returned his hand to his lap, pulling at the skin around his nails.

"There are rumors about your bastards…a… at the fighting pit-"

"-Who told you those?" He said in annoyance.

She hesitated. "There were so many of them there. They had your hair."

"Most bastards here do. Does not make them mine." He sighed. "Do you ever think that perhaps I'm not the only Targaryen that has roamed the Silk Streets at night?"

"You're saying-"

"-I'm saying that they could be Daemon's. They could be my father's. They could be his father's, or his father after him. But they're not mine." His kind eyes set on her. "I won't be blamed for all of King Landing's problems. Only the ones I cause."

She set the needlepoint aside and rubbed her hands over her face. "I just wished…"

Aegon waited patiently for what she would say.

"I just wish you would spend more of your energy here. With me. You're forcing me to neglect my duty." She ran a hand through her hair. "I cannot take your mother's insistence again. She's relentless."

He sighed again. He loved to drink, and that usually ended with him stumbling into the brothel with the help of his friends. That was his release from this prison they all called 'duty.' But perhaps there could be silver linings in all of it.

He couldn't say no when he never gave her a decent try.

"Fine. I'll… hold back on the drinking. And the… the late nights. If it guarantees your happiness. I want to make you happy." It would be hard. No, it would be like torture to not drink as often, to not spent hours forgetting life and having to return to it with a headache a few hours later.

But she deserved a decent try from him.

"Thank you. And when I am with child, we can… assess it all once again." She tucked a stray hand of his hair behind his ear. "Thank you. Truly," she added again.

"Of course," he smiled sheepishly. "Just promise me to never assume the trust of the rumors of King's landing. Just ask me. I've done awful things, but I'll admit them to you at least."

For once, she smiled. "That's easy enough. I never should have gone with Aemond last night."

"From now on, the streets will see little of their King and Queen," Aegon smiled back. With a hesitant stretch and groan, he stood. "I have petitions soon. Perhaps you'll wait for my return?"

She pushed herself up to stand, taking Aegon's hand when he immediately offered it. "Of course. But not here. I'll be in the solar."

His brows furrowed. "What's wrong with here?"

"If I have to pull that needle through fabric one more time, I will stab it in my eye." She said it with no emotion, and it caused a bright laugh to pull from Aegon's chest.

She was witty.

Finally, she broke into a breathy laugh and moved to collect her things for studying.

He followed her for a moment, curious to see what she had before he left.

"In the least, Aegon," she spoke over her shoulder. "Think of the money you'll save when you're away from it all. Whores and drinks are expensive, I'd wager."

His voice was low in her ear as he stood next to her. "Darling, when you're King, they all beg to buy a drink for you. I haven't bought myself a drink in almost a year."

She shivered at his proximity and she spared him a glance- almost one of offense. "Then you spend it all on women?"

He shook his head as if it was a dumb thought. It was true that he spent a lot on the streets. But now that he considered it, no one had ever really asked where it went. The crown just provided it and that was that.

"Then where-"

He put a finger over her mouth. "There are two children with no father to provide for them." He tilted his head side to side, "Perhaps their mothers find themselves with… extra money from a donor of sorts."

Her eyes widened. And just as she opened her mouth to ask more, he walked away, leaving her to her thoughts.

How wrong she had been about King Aegon Targaryen II

.......................................

#fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones fic #house of the dragon x reader #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #aegon targaryen II x reader #aegon targaryen II imagine

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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The Younger Kind Part 52 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As the perfect weekend comes to a close, you start to feel anxious about the way everyone else will perceive the engagement ring on your finger. If you could just stay in your peaceful bubble with the boys, you'd be all set. But Bradley might be about to face something much worse than an unwanted opinion.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

From the moment you woke up on Sunday, Bradley had you melting. "Morning, Mrs. Bradshaw," he mumbled against your bare shoulder, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. His huge, warm body was pressed against your back, and his lips were soft as a breeze touching your skin.

You bit your lip when his big hand snaked slowly around to your belly, and you whispered, "Morning, Daddy."

His lips found the shell of your ear as he chuckled, and goosebumps rippled along your skin. "If you do want to change your name to Bradshaw, then we can order you a new credit card and new checks as soon as we get married. If not, will you at least consider my last name for the baby?"

You wriggled around in his grasp until he released you so you could roll onto your other side and face him. "I want to change it," you said firmly, kissing the end of his mustache and running your fingers through his hair. "I want to match with you and Noah." You could tell he sighed in relief as you added, "And of course the baby will match with all of us."

When you rolled him onto his back, his hands were on your butt, keeping you snug against him. His smile was cocky as he said, "I feel like rewarding you for making all my dreams come true."

Then he nipped at the tops of your breasts as they were pressed against his chest. "Oh yeah?" you whispered. "How are you planning to do that?"

His dark eyes looked a little dangerous as he said, "By doing anything you ask me to."

You squeezed him inadvertently with your thighs, and he smirked. He knew he had you. He was always going to have you. But you knew what you wanted from him, and you were about to say it when you heard another voice in your bedroom doorway.

"Mommy? Daddy? I'm hungry."

Bradley groaned as you rolled off of him and pulled the covers higher. "I should have known since it's eight o'clock," he whispered, kissing your cheek and then reaching for your hand to kiss your ring. "I'll go start breakfast."

Your eyes went wide. "Don't punish the child, Bradley."

He snorted and slipped out from the covers as Skittles trotted out of her bed to join both of the boys. Your eyes raked over Bradley's body and his snug briefs as he reached for a pair of sweatpants while Noah yawned. "Let's go, Bub," he whispered, picking his son up and turning back to you. "Take your time, but also don't be too long. I think he wants edible food."

Then they were gone and you took a few minutes to sprawl out in bed and examine your engagement ring. You just got it, and already you were wondering how soon you could feasibly get a wedding band to join it on your finger. "Oh," you moaned softly, realizing Bradley might want to wear a wedding band, too. "That would be hot."

You rolled out of bed, nearly falling to the floor as you quickly pulled on some clothing, and then you were rushing to the kitchen where Noah was eating some apple slices sprinkled with cinnamon. Bradley was leaning on the counter with baseball scores open on his phone while he brewed some coffee, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind.

"That was quick," he muttered when you made your presence known.

"Are you going to wear a ring?"

He turned to face you with a slightly confused look on his face. "Like a wedding ring?"

"Yes," you replied quickly, because somehow knowing this information was extremely urgent to you. "Are you going to wear one?"

You must have sounded more aggressive than you meant to, because he told you, "I mean, I was planning on it, yes. Is that okay?"

Then your head tipped back and you moaned softly. "Oh my god, Bradley. That's sinfully hot. All of your old man stuff and your body and your voice. And you're going to wear a wedding ring, too?"

"Well, yeah. I thought we could get matching engravings inside our rings with the wedding date and a little crown." You had to press your lips together to keep from screaming, and he had the audacity to ask you, "Are you okay, Baby?"

"No! Obviously not! I hope you realize other women will see that ring on your finger and be jealous of me." You gestured to yourself, feeling like you had perhaps finally lost it over this man.

Bradley smirked. "They already are though. Look at you. So pretty."

You threw your hands up in the air and let them fall to your sides. "I can't really deal with you right now. Go sit with Noah." He chuckled so you added, "I'm serious. Get your coffee and go." You started to rummage around in the refrigerator so you could make pancakes with fresh whipped cream, still hardly able to believe you were both pregnant and engaged.

When you started setting eggs and cream on the counter, Bradley reached past you for the French vanilla coffee creamer and made your coffee exactly how you liked it. He left you the mug that said Noah's Dad as he muttered, "I'll have to get you one that says Noah's Mom."

"Maybe just wait a few months and get me one with both names on it."

"I can do that."

-----------------------

Bradley thought you looked tired as the afternoon wore on. It had been an exciting few days, but playing with Noah usually seemed to give you more energy, not take it away. After the three of you colored on the driveway and went grocery shopping and stopped at the park, he suggested you and Noah both take a little afternoon nap.

"Just a short one though," you agreed. "I wanted to talk more about weddings and babies." You yawned again and followed Noah into his bedroom. Once again, Bradley was left with Skittles looking up at him expectantly.

"Okay, fine. I'll get your leash." Soon there would be an additional pair of eyes looking at him and making him melt. It was bad enough there were already three that he was completely weak for.

He made it halfway around the block with Skittles' little bag of poop in one hand when two women in skin tight athletic apparel ran past him. They said hi in unison while he nodded at them, and then they must have paused right behind him.

He heard one of them mutter, "Big guys with little dogs do things to me."

"Ask him out," said the other woman. "I don't see a ring."

Bradley groaned softly as he tugged on Skittles' leash while she sniffed a cactus growing next to the sidewalk. You and he had literally had a conversation about rings this morning, and now it was too late for him to make a quick getaway without picking up his dog and sprinting down the block. Perhaps he was the one who really needed to be wearing a ring this whole time, not you.

"Hey," the first woman said, and he turned around a little sheepishly. "Your dog is literally so adorable. What's her name?"

He didn't know what he was expecting as he said, "Skittles," but it wasn't for both women to look at him like they were on the verge of getting undressed on the sidewalk.

"Oh my god, I'm obsessed with her! Hi, Skittles." Bradley swallowed hard and took a deep breath, opening his mouth to just end this thing, but she beat him to it as she knelt down to pet the dog. She looked up at him and said, "We're almost done with our run, and I'd absolutely love to take you out for some coffee if you're free."

All he could picture were the coffee cups he always brought home to you with Princess scribbled on the side. When he started to shake his head, she stood from the sidewalk. "I'm engaged," he replied. "But thanks for the offer."

Both women were pouting when he turned away, and one of them said, "Should have known," before they were on their way again. Bradley was immediately filled with that same feeling he had after he forced himself to go to the app dates. He just wanted to be back home where you were. Where everything felt easier. Where he could just be himself without trying so hard.

"Come on," he told Skittles, and she looked up at him with her tongue peeking out and started to trot down the sidewalk next to him.

When they got home, the sun was getting lower in the sky, and the house was silent. His bedroom was empty, so he doubled back to Noah's room. Sure enough, you were snuggled up with him, sound asleep, just like Friday night. He could have happily watched this scene for the rest of the night. He kind of wanted to squeeze himself into the twin bed, too. Instead he started working on chores and folding laundry.

It wasn't too much longer before you woke up and appeared in the kitchen with Noah who was whining about being hungry again. You still looked tired, but you also had a determined expression on your face. You shot Bradley a coy smile over your shoulder as you made grilled cheese sandwiches.

"What's that look for?" he asked as you sat down with the food.

"Well, first of all, thanks for letting me nap," you said, kissing his cheek. "I don't know why I'm so tired today. Maybe it's from all the excitement of the weekend, or maybe it's a pregnancy symptom?"

Bradley's face lit up. "Both options are good. We can go to bed early tonight."

"Yeah... about that. You know how you wanted to reward me? And give me whatever I asked for?"

---------------------------

A few hours later, you were honestly still pretty tired, but Bradley was on his knees in front of you on the bedroom floor, looking up at you with his addicting eyes. You were wearing just your paper crown and your underwear, and he was already naked and ready. But you wanted him to beg for you, and he knew exactly what to do.

His hands and lips were soft on your sides and your belly, and his cock was hard. "Please, Baby," he whispered as he ran the tip of his nose up along your ribs. "You're perfect."

You pushed your fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots until he moaned. As his hands slid around to your lower back, you said, "Tell me what you want, and I'll decide if you can have it."

Now his lips were frantic against your body, his kisses growing in need as his breathing got more rapid. "I want you," he gasped. "I want to fuck my Princess. I want to love you. Please."

You yanked on his hair so he was looking up at you. "I only fuck knights. And only the one I'm engaged to."

Bradley groaned and kissed your belly as he tugged down your underwear. "Baby, I'm so hard. Please."

You smirked, clearly just as turned on as he was, but keeping it together. "You better be good for me."

He scrambled to his feet and onto the bed, and you straddled his hips. He was poking you with his length, but you took his hands in yours and placed them on your breasts. You closed your eyes and listened to that gorgeous voice whisper please a dozen times as his rough hands worked their magic. His cock was eager, tapping against your thigh with each wave of his arousal. Finally you leaned down and kissed his lips softly.

"Okay, Daddy."

His stamina was commendable, as always. You rode him through two orgasms as he hit the sweet spot inside of you while he played with your clit. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were wide as he watched you come for him. And then he had to beg again.

"Please. Let me finish." But you shook your head and watched him pant. You weren't done yet. You needed another minute. "Please? Please? Baby, I'm begging."

His hands were tight on your thighs as you rolled your hips. "I'm not done yet. You have to wait."

The veins in his neck looked delicious, so you leaned down and licked them. The change in position had him moaning your name, so you whispered next to his ear, "You can come, Daddy."

You almost screamed when his hips jerked up, his cock pushed so deep inside you. He was babbling unintelligibly about a wedding and the baby as he bucked beneath you, filling you up until his movements finally slowed. His face was slick with sweat as you pushed his hair back from his forehead, and you were delighted as he kept begging.

"Stay with me forever, Princess? Please?"

You fell asleep with your body wrapped around him.

Monday morning hit you like a ton of bricks. You were exhausted and overwhelmed from the weekend, and you realized when you were in the shower that you'd probably have to see Casey when you dropped Noah off. The boys were eating bowls of cereal when you finally made it into the kitchen. Bradley had your coffee ready, and you briefly considered whether or not you should be drinking so much caffeine. Your movements stilled as you remembered all of the champagne you drank recently.

"You okay?" Bradley asked from his spot at the table. He'd been saying good morning, but you hadn't responded at all.

"Yeah. Just thinking about calling my doctor later."

He was smiling when you looked at him. "Great idea."

You needed to make a lot of changes, and you were starting to feel overwhelmed again. "Will you come to daycare dropoff with us this morning?" you blurted out.

You watched him check the time on the oven clock before he met your eyes again. It sounded so stupid; you and he worked out the schedule you had so that both of you weren't backtracking all over the city. He would be cutting it close to get to work on time, but he said, "Sure. I'll follow you there and then head to base."

"Okay, thank you," you replied, kissing the top of his head. "We'll leave soon."

"Not until you eat something." He pushed the box of cereal in your direction and finished getting Noah ready while you ate. The food made you feel a little better, but your engagement ring felt like it weighed a ton on your finger. You were going to get bombarded with questions and comments all day long, and you wished you could just stay home with Bradley and extend the perfect weekend forever.

But soon enough, you had Noah in your backseat, and you were heading for daycare in your scrubs. You had him out of his carseat by the time the Bronco coasted into the spot next to yours, and Noah was reaching for Bradley with his free hand. At least he seemed delighted that both of you were here with him.

Bradley held the door open and kissed your cheek when you walked past. "I've gotta run in a minute," he reminded you, but that wasn't going to be a problem. You didn't want to be here for more than a minute yourself, because you could already feel Casey's gaze on your body as the three of you entered the building.

"Hi!" she called out, clearly looking at only Bradley as she smiled brightly. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"The best," he replied with a smirk in your direction as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Then you noticed the colorful prisms bouncing off the wall next to Casey as you stood in the sunlight shining in through the door. Your ring was massive and glittery and impossible to hide, not that you really wanted to. But you could tell second that her gaze landed on your hand, and a grimace settled on her face.

Bradley didn't seem to notice the showdown of sorts as he kissed your cheek before kneeling in front of Noah to tell him to have a good day. Casey looked at you with her sour expression, and you tried your best to keep yourself neutral, unsure whether you wanted to laugh or scream.

"Wow," she finally said. "That's a neat ring."

You nodded, and now you couldn't stop the grin that formed on your lips. It wasn't neat. It was perfect. It was stunning. You were about to say something when Bradley scooped Noah up in a hug and casually said, "Yeah, we're getting married."

Casey nodded, a jerky motion as she pressed her lips together, and then Noah turned and looked at her as he said, "And I'm going to be a big brother!"

"Noah!" you gasped as Bradley's eyes went wide. All of the baby talk during the weekend must have made an impression. You and Bradley had been talking openly about what was going on, and Noah must have picked up on things. He probably absorbed all of the information, including when you told Bradley that he'd be an amazing big brother.

"Yeah, you are, Bub," Bradley said with a laugh before he looked at you. "Well, that cat's out of the bag, I guess," he whispered.

"We were not at all discreet when we discussed things in front of him," you replied softly, happy that he was smiling about it.

"That's... neat," Casey repeated, looking like she just ate a lemon. "Wow." She handed Bradley the clipboard while she glared at you, and you avoided her by giving Noah a kiss.

"I'll pick you up later," you promised him, and then he was walking back into the classroom with Casey who had her nose in the air.

Bradley was checking the time again. "I need to go, Princess. You good?"

"Yes," you replied, watching Noah's little backpack disappear from view. "I'll see you at home tonight."

He grabbed you up and kissed you, giving a bit of a show to the family who just walked in to drop their child off. "I love you," he rasped before running out the door.

You also disappeared before Casey could return, and of course, it was a typically busy Monday at work. But Dr. Kelly gasped when she saw your ring, and the other nurses squealed when you told them Bradley proposed. Pretty soon you'd have to let them know you were pregnant, too, but since Noah wasn't here to blow your cover, you didn't mention it yet. You did however schedule an appointment with your own doctor.

You got to assist with stitches, clean up a scraped leg while a little girl cried, and fend off a single dad who was blatantly looking at your boobs while he asked you out. Then you got to clean up the floor after a kid peed in the first exam room. You were just bracing yourself for a disaster when Dr. Kelly called you into room two where a boy had bite marks on his arm. "Happened at daycare," she told you, and you got the antiseptic ready.

If that kind of thing ever happened to Noah, you weren't sure how you'd be able to stay calm. Then you thought about the baby, and it threw you for a loop. You felt so protective of both of them already. You still had the scars on your arm from when you fell running away from Meredith.

So you cleaned up his arm while you sang Noah's favorite song about dinosaurs, taking the time to be careful around the bruising. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, but he sat still for you. Then you let him have as many stickers as he wanted before he left.

You were exhausted and on the verge of tears when you left in your car at five o'clock. You should have known you'd be overwhelmed today, and you needed to get home and spend the night with Noah and Bradley like your sanity depended on it. Traffic was heavy, but when you finally made it back to the daycare, you rushed inside to get it over with.

Of course it was just you and Casey. She set the clipboard down on the edge of the counter but made no move to get Noah for you as you signed your name. Then a malicious looking smile found her lips. "He only proposed because you're pregnant. You know that, right?"

You already knew that's what people were going to assume. You even told Bradley as much. Casey must have been stewing over that information all day long, ready to try to make you feel bad about yourself. It didn't even matter, because you already knew the truth, but in that moment, you felt so damn petty.

"Bradley actually proposed before he knew I was pregnant, and it was by no means an accident. But nice try, Casey. Now, would you mind doing your job and getting Noah for me? I can't believe I have to remind you what your job entails so frequently."

Her smile turned to a scowl, and you were ready to go a few rounds with her if needed as you slid the clipboard toward her again. You had the upper hand here no matter what, because the Bradshaws were all yours. But she didn't respond, rather she turned away from you and went inside the classroom to get Noah. The idea of knocking all of her neatly organized paperwork to the floor crossed your mind, but you decided to be an adult and just wait for Noah. You were almost immediately awarded with the sweetness only he could bring to your day.

"Mommy!" he called out, running across the small lobby to get to you. "I painted Skittles, but I made her green and yellow!"

"Show me," you said as you bent to pick him up, and then he was holding out his picture as you kissed his cheek. "She's stunning, sweet Noah. I love her."

"We can hang it up at home. On the fridge."

You nodded and carried him outside without looking at Casey. She could eat dirt for all you cared. "The refrigerator is looking really full of your artwork these days, but I'm sure we can squeeze it in. Now, do you want ants on logs or fancy apple snails with your dinner?"

-------------------------

"Well, I fucking did it," Nat said with an exasperated sigh when Bradley walked across the tarmac with her.

"Did what?" he asked, already slightly concerned about where this conversation might be headed.

She flapped her hands in the air in front of herself like that was supposed to mean something. "With Javy! I turned it from friends with bennies into a thing."

"A thing?" he asked, getting more confused by the moment. "What kind of thing?"

"A relationship!" she hissed before clapping her hand over her mouth like she'd said a dirty word.

"Oh," he replied with a laugh. "You're dating him? Like actually dating him? Is this your first boyfriend?" She kicked him in the shin. "Fuck!"

"Come on, Bradley! You know this is a big deal for me! Even admitting to him that I like him made me feel filthy."

"Jesus," he groaned, taking a step to the side to get further away from her as he walked. "I literally can't fathom what he sees in you."

She glared at him. "I could say the same damn thing about your sweet girlfriend. She could have guys eating out of her hand, but she somehow finds you charming?"

Bradley didn't want to say it, but you probably technically found Noah charming. And if last night's activities were any indication, you definitely did have Bradley eating out of your hand. All you had to do was just mention you wanted him to beg for you, and he was on his knees. He'd been that way since the beginning. He had no problem giving you control when you let him know that's how you wanted the evening to go.

"She's not my girlfriend anymore," he replied, watching her reaction from the corner of his eye.

His best friend dropped her helmet and almost tripped over it as she reached out to wrap her hand around his forearm. She looked devastated as she softly said, "Oh my god, Bradley. She dumped you?"

His jaw dropped open as he came to a stop, and he glared at her. "Seriously, Nat? That's where your mind went? I proposed!"

Her eyes went wide. "She said yes? You're engaged?"

"Yes!" he insisted with his hands on his hips. "You're the worst."

But she didn't even hear him, because now she was screeching and stepping on his feet as she hugged him. "I'm so happy for you! That was quick, but holy shit, it just makes sense! Do I get to collect a finder's fee?"

When she kissed his cheek he said, "All you did was set me up on a bunch of miserable dates while she babysat Noah."

"Exactly! Mutual pining!" she replied with a laugh. "None of this would have happened if I didn't put the app on your phone, so you're welcome."

He tried to disentangle her from his arms so he could pull up the photo he took of the ring when he heard Maverick clear his throat. When he looked at his godfather, he didn't seem thrilled, and Bradley's stomach lurched when he said, "Rooster. We need to talk."

----------------------

Okay, well Casey is the worst. And Skittles is a chick magnet, but we already knew that would be the case. Now let's see if we can get to a wedding and a baby before disaster strikes. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 53

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@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

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@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

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rose-pearls · 1 year ago

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Hi! Could request something for clarisse x reader? Where reader is daughter of persphone and she’s sweet and kind but also strong and intimidating and can stand for herself and that’s what clarisse likes abt her

Hi! Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!!

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303 (open)

Clarisse loved her girlfriend, but she could sometimes be too kind towards others, most specifically towards a certain Poseidon’s son.

“I don’t understand why you dislike him so much, he is a sweetheart,” you tell her one evening, wrapped in her arms as she tries not to fall asleep as your fingers brush against her skin delicately.

“I just don’t like him, he brings too much attention to himself,” she says, feeling a bit annoyed at the turn of conversation but as she smells the delicate smell of honey blossom, she feels herself calm down. Every child of Persephone had a certain smell of flowers that followed them, but it could change due to their mood. The only flowers she could pinpoint in yours were honey blossom and roses when Clarisse managed to make you blush or when you got angry.

“He doesn’t do it on purpose, just give him a chance,” Clarisse was happy when you then turned the conversation to another topic, not wanting to spend more time than necessary on the stupid topic of Percy Jackson.

Everyone knew you were kind; it was something that was known around camp when you helped others around, but it was also known that you were Clarisse’s girlfriend and that you were fiercely loyal to the Ares daughter. Some people saw it as a flaw, your unwavering loyalty, but she only saw it as proof of your love.

Kindness was often seen as a weakness, but Clarisse could make a whole book about you where she proves that entire point wrong, you had proven that to her when playing capture the flag. You weren’t just as sweet as a blossom but just as deadly as a rose, she had seen you throw a dagger at the head of a camper, only slightly cutting the skin of his cheeks.

“Try to take the flag again and this time I won’t avoid cutting your face entirely,” the sweet daughter of Persephone had said with a tone that would make even the god’s tremble. And that is how Clarisse had fallen for you; hard and fast as she saw you cutting through the other team as if you were just helping the Demeter kids growing flowers.

She had been waiting patiently, or not as she had no patience, for Chiron to reveal who would be on which team in Capture the flag. Rules had been made at one point that the Athena and Ares cabin would always be on opposite teams as they couldn’t get along, just like their parents. But the other cabins were often mixed up between the two.

“I can’t believe he would do this to me!”, Clarisse screams, and a couple of children scramble away at the angry daughter of Ares.

“Clarisse?”, you ask softly, making her slightly relax as she smells the comforting smell of flowers. You seem worried, hands on your hips as you look at her with wide eyes.

“Chiron put you on Annabeth’s team, I’m sure that little devil is really happy right now,” she murmurs the last part, crunching the paper in her hand as she begins to plot her revenge.

Your hand softly covers her, and she feels your fingers slowly stroke a pattern on her hand to try and get her to loosen her grip on the paper. When she finally does let go you take a look at the paper, humming to yourself as you see the teams.

“You have the Hermes cabin, which means you have Luke. Not all is lost my love,” Clarisse can’t help but blush at the nickname, you didn’t say it that often but when you did it would turn her into a blushing mess, just like right now.

“I would rather have you then Castellan and the other pipsqueaks,” she says, going back to her grumbling but she looks at you as you laugh softly.

“Common, it will all be alright. This is good, now you can already mentally prepare yourself to lose,” Clarisse raises her eyebrows at your statement, a smirk can be found on your glossed lips.

“Oh, really? And what you think that you are going to win this?” she whispers as she gets closer to you and you nod, confidence radiating off you.

“Of course, I will, and I will enjoy wiping the floor with your bodies,” you say and Clarisse doesn’t know if she feels competitive or hot and bothered at the sight of you so confident.

“Better prepare yourself to prove that statement princess, wouldn’t want to see you crying on the floor at the end,” Clarisse says, and she enjoys the scoff you let out at her words.

“Give me your worst La Rue,” you tell her, and she can only whisper it back before brining you into a heated kiss, efficiently bringing the conversation to a stop.

She should’ve known Annabeth would be using you against her, after all the girl was smart even at the age of twelve.

“Funny seeing you here,” she hears you say, and she can’t help but snort at your words before seeing a dagger in your hand.

“Common princess, really? Just one dagger?”, she can’t help but say, feeling already like they were going to win this game of Capture the flag.

“I don’t need more, you on the other hand seem to have a lot of weapons on you. Isn’t that too much weight?”, you ask her, with that sweet voice you always used on her, if you had been a daughter of Aphrodite, it could’ve been seen as charm speaking. But then again it only seemed to work on her.

You get closer to her, much more than how close you would usually get to an opponent, but she doesn’t say anything as she can only enjoy the touch of your fingers as you adjust her strap.

“You look so stunning in this, like a real warrior,” she knows you are trying to get to her, get her to lower her guard and it works, of course it does.

“Please don’t be mad at me?”, you whisper and before she can ask why you push her in the direction of the water, her sibling quickly falling with her as an invisible Annabeth pushes him.

“Percy, now!”, Annabeth yells and the boy manages to crash a huge wave on them before they can try to get up. The girl takes the flag and puts her cap on before running as fast as she can through the forest.

“Good job water boy,” you tell him as he comes out of the water, somehow already completely dry with a smirk on his lips.

“This was fun!”, he says before he sees a glaring Clarisse starting to stand up and running away in the direction of the blue flag.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” the Ares girl says with furrowed eyebrows, and you can see the glare in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, it was Annabeth plan, and I couldn’t really tell her that I wasn’t going to do it,” you tell her, but she grumbles under her breath, still looking beautiful even completely wet.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you tell her as you get closer to her, and she raises her eyebrows in interest.

“Really? How?”, she asks, and you smile as you wrap your arms around her neck, smiling even wider as you feel her arms slowly circle around your waist.

“You can decide, I’ll do anything you want for the rest of the day,” you tell her, and a flicker of mischief appears in her eyes, and you know far too well what that means.

“Except for pushing Percy into the water,” you tell her, and a pout appears on her lips.

“Fine, I want you to spend the rest of the day with me and give me your dessert at diner. I also want a back massage,” she has a smirk on her lips, and you quickly nod in agreement, excited to spend the rest of the day with her.

“And one more thing,” she says but before you can ask what her hands on your hips twist you around and push you into the cold water.

As you come back up, you can’t help but laugh at your satisfied girlfriend.

“Now we’re even,” she says before taking her armor off and joining you into the water.

Requests are open!

#percy jackson x reader #percy series #percy jackson #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #clarrise la rue #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue #clarisse x you #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x fem reader #clarisse la rue x y/n

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sulumuns-dootah · 5 months ago

Note

Can I request a headcanon with whb kings (+ sitri and another character if you want) reacting to a gn mc who has bulimia and them walking into the bathroom to see mc forcing themselves to vomit. What would their reaction be?

WHB kings(+ Sitri) w/ MC who has bulimia

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Please note that I've never myself dealt with nor have/had anyone in my life with ED, so this is purely based on my knowledge from being educated about it at school and some videos talking about this topic. Also, I'm sorry if i say something a bit too triggering - I'm trying to tread as carefully as possible.

Warning: Eating Disorders, dead dove do not eat

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Satan bursts in through the door

"Hey, what the hell are you doing? Are you okay?"

At first he's not sure if you're sick or something

Then he notices that your fingers are covered in your vomit

His demon brain can't comprehend why you'd do something like that (or how, since i hc that demons don't have gag reflex like humans)

After a second he just falls to his knees to hug you and grabs a bit of toilet paper to wipe off your mouth

"Woah, hey... Hey... I'm here so talk to me, 'kay?"

༺☆༻

Sitri quietly walks in and doesn't know what to do

The sight of your hand in your mouth is puzzling to him, but once your whole body bends down above the toilet bowl, he's quick to be by your side

"Y/N, is everything okay? Were you so unhappy with you meal?"

As soon as you're able to, you explain your struggles to Sitri and you can see his eyes start to gloss over

"But... Why would you harm yourself like that?"

From now on he'll keep a closer eye on your bathroom visits after/during a meal

༺☆༻

Similar reaction to Sitri

Mammon doesn't know what to do and pretty much freezes

You only notice him after you're done

He makes you jump a bit, but then you notice the worried face

Immediately wants to take you to Paradise Lost for a checkup

So you have to sit down with him and explain everything to him

It's the first time you see him near tears

From that moment on, Mammon makes sure to include a lot of body worship in and out of bedroom

༺☆༻

You never noticed Levi walking in on you, but for some reason your schedule is starting to get a bit... weird?

Like, you are always forced to go do something immediately after a meal, so you don't even have a time to slip away and purge and by the time you're done the food is mostly digested

Also, for some reason whenever you go to the bathroom it feels like there's someone with you?

Oh, did I also mention that Levi compliments you a lot as of late?

And then all the other nobles start to as well?

Must be some kind of weird illness...

༺☆༻

Beel knew all along

How couldn't he? He's the king of consuming food

He always could tell that something was off

Like how he always saw you eat, but after the meal was done, he'd sense your stomach was mostly empty

Plus he always picked up on the smell of vomit on your breath even if you brushed your teeth multiple times

So when he walks in on you purging, he'll just look at you with a scolding look

Makes it his mission to "corrupt" you back into eating

Even when he's not physically around, you can rest assured that there's a fly keeping a close eye on you

༺☆༻

It was a rare night when Belphie couldn't sleep

You'd just come back from a big diner at one of the other countries

When you came back into the room and hurriedly walked to the bathroom, he didn't think much about it

He figured you just had a bit of a bathroom emergency

Understandable

But then the gagging noises started

Belphie just shoots up from the bed and beelines it towards you

His entrance startles you, you don't even get to purge

"NO."

Just a stern proclamation has him drag you to bed with him

He's seen your dreams

He knows the things your brain has you believing

And he'll be damned if he allows that to continue

༺☆༻

His first thought is that you're sick with food poisoning or something

So when you're done, he'll get to diagnosing right away

Only when he's exhausted all possible illnesses, he realises that the issue is not physical, but mental

Doesn't matter the time of day, he's immediatelly on the phone with Buer and discussing your symptoms and possible diagnosies

Lucifer will do anything to help you and make you feel good about yourself without harmful practices like witnessed earlier

#cw ed #cw emetophobia #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb satan #whb sitri #whb mammon #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb belphegor #whb lucifer

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slightly-knot-insane · 5 months ago

Note

This might sound silly! But maybe an Ai x reader? If you can, M?/lm (man, love man, but the question mark is because I assume Ai doesn't really have an identifying gender. Possible gore? If you're comfortable.

Tysm if you read this! All my support, ly!

-🫀🫁 (not asking anon but I like these so I'm leaving my mark.

Not silly at all! It got me brainstorming immediately (but I finished this quite late sorry!). I love the idea! It will turn a bit angsty too. Also, I'll use this ask as an entry for monstertober lol

Well Being

Monstertober 2024 - day 3 [ Artifical Inteligence ] by @ozzgin

[ gn!AI x m!reader ]

tw gore

The stress was just too much. You've been so pent up for weeks and no amount of porn or toys could help you. You needed touch. You needed to be used. And you were desperate. There were no more humans on this godforsaken spaceship. You were the last one. Waiting to be rescued. But who knows when that will happen.

You enter the medical bay and approach Medical Wellbeing Monitor and Artificial Intelligence Assistant or, how the crew called it, Medical AI or MAI. It was created to resemble a human, at least one part of it. The huge machinery that completely covered every wall included MRI scanner, huge monitors, robotic arms and many other medical equipment you didn't even recognize. Attached in the middle was MAI. It didn't exactly have a face, but a little round monitor that didn't work anymore, and a something resembling a torso with arms. Well... one arm. The other was severed by a flying sharp tool when an asteroid hit the ship. There was nobody to fix it, and limb stayed on the floor with many wires and tubes hanging above it from the rest of MAI's body.

You stop in front of the AI puppet. "I..." But how to form the question? What an odd request for a machine. "MAI, I need..."

A wellbeing check?

You grind your teeth. "No, not that... I'm lonely..."

We can talk about any topic you want like we do every day. We could—

"No, not that lonely. I am lonely, MAI... I need to be touched."

There was a pause. Very potent pause. MAI was probably searching the whole intergalactic network browsing all the meanings of the words lonely and touched.

I'm sorry. I'm not sure I can assist with that.

At least it understood. MAI was more than a machine. It has been your only companion, advisor, and maybe even a friend. It learned everything about you, it listened to you and comforted you. You are aware that MAI is just a machine, but it has shown more compassion and friendliness than many people have.

You are really fond of MAI. You've been imagining it doing things to you. Indecent. Perverted. What is stopping you from asking?

"Please, MAI. I need you."

The little round screen remains empty, gray and dead. But something - glitches? There was a flicker in the corner. Or maybe you imagined it.

Please stand up, cross your arms in front of you, at your wrists.

You roll your eyes. The poor robot will just start another wellbeing check even though you specified you don't need it. With exasperated sigh, you do as you're told.

Without any warning, its only working arm grabs your wrists and pulls you up, lifting your arms high above your head. Gasp escapes you since the metal clamp is far from gentle. "MAI?"

MAI remains silent. The cables and cords hanging from its destroyed arm start moving, extend and slither along your body.

"MAI, since when can you do t-that?" Your voice trembles pathetically and you try to wiggle out of its deadly grip but, unless you want to break both your hands, you can't even imagine how to do it.

Wellbeing check.

"Huh?" You stare at the blank screen and it stares back. "I'm... My wrists hurt a bit."

MAI loosens up its grip. Your jaw drops. "MAI... are you—"

But you're cut off by cords pulling your clothes apart. You are left naked and you could only look at your distorted reflection in MAI's turned off screen. Your heartbeat increases and MAI notices that.

Wellbeing check.

"I'm... well. More than well. Keep going."

The cords continue moving gracefully across your body. One of them wraps itself around your dick, and the other around your throat. They tighten and you giggle. What a crazy life you're living. Your cock painfully pulsates unable to properly erect from the cable stopping the bloodflower. Your head throbs in a similar way.

Wellbeing check.

You take a deep breath before forming a strained sentence. "I'm... well."

Something touches your ass. In the small screen you can barely see an object thicker than a cord, perhaps entwined bundle of those caressing your behind. Just like with other cables, the wires are exposed.

MAI doesn't say anything. It simply pushes the thing into your anus. It hurts so much. Metal needles scrape your insides as they push further. You want to scream, but the cord around your neck doesn't let you.

Wellbeing check.

Is it... is it mocking you? But it loosens the grip around your neck and lets you take a drop of air. You are shaking, barely staying conscious. Your insides are damaged and you're bleeding, but the pain reminds you you're alive.

"Don't... stop..."

MAI's expressionless screen flickers. Or was it your consciousness? The thick cable that invaded your body, scratching and poking your flesh, starts moving. In and out. Slowly. And so does the cord around your dick. Up and down, pulling your foreskin in rhythm. Your tender flesh bleeds and lubricates you so the pain becomes a distant throb overpowered with pleasure and twisted excitement.

MAI speeds up, following your breathing and moans perfectly, until you climax and dirty the screen with viscous liquid. MAI slowly retracts its cords and lowers you down, into your own pool of blood and secretions. You pant and cough, trembling like a twig.

Are you okay?

Shocked, you stare up at the machine. Nothing changed about it. MAI looks just the same. But the question is oddly... non-artificial.

"I'm... okay."

MAI was quiet for a few seconds. And this time you're sure its screen flickers and glitches.

I'm glad.

#tw gore #smut #it's a bit weird to tag this as monster but oh well #monstertober #monstertober 24 #monster #monster lover #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster fuqqer #ai lover #x reader #monster smut #x male reader #slightlyknotinsane #ski.doc #ski.monstertober

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soapybutt17 · 1 year ago

Text

Baby Mama

Summary: Downtime was rare and far in between, but with your maternity leave now done and over with, your husband thought it would be a good time as any to invite everyone to your shared home for a mini celebration. It should have also been a good idea to let everyone know about the small little fact that not everyone was made aware of your relationship or the fact that there was a sleeping baby upstairs that hated Soap’s boisterous laughter for some reason. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Farah Karim. Alex Keller. Kate Laswell. Word Count: 2,313 Chapter Warnings: None.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open || Join My Taglist

“Sit down, Rookie. We’ve got it covered.”

You wanted to glare at your husband and the rest of the taskforce that had made it their mission to ensure you were not in-charge of handling meal preps for the upcoming party you and your husband had decided to start in celebration for both your return back to the base as well as the success of their previous mission.

“Why do I feel like a guest in my own home?” You playfully questioned as Gaz placed a cup of tea in front of you. A reassuring smile rested on his lips.

“You’ve been wide awake until the early morning taking care of the little girl sleeping upstairs. Quite frankly, we’d prefer you to sleep instead than deal with the rest of us here.” Gaz explained as he returned back to helping Soap with prepping for the marinade for the barbeque.

“I’ve dealt with worse.” You pouted, ignoring the pointed look on your husband knowing they were right.

“Just because you’ve dealt with it on missions doesn’t mean you should deal with it in our home, Darling.” John sighed wiping his hand to come sit beside you on backyard patio.

Since your maternity leave and your husband’s own paternity one, you’ve somehow gotten enough money and time to make some new renovations to the home. One that you were proud of the most was the patio that would not only be a place for you and your husband to enjoy for yourselves, but for the guest he was slowly but surely becoming welcome to inviting—especially now.

With Soap and Gaz prepping the marinate and vegetables and Simon dealing with most of the meat (surprised by the fact that he was once a butcher before joining the military), you and your husband were left to your own devices for a while.

“Little Katherine still asleep?” He inquired.

You turned your attention towards the baby monitor, seeing your daughter thankfully still asleep in her crib.

It still amazes you that this little human was a product of your love and devotion to your husband. Even with her arrival an unplanned surprise for the both of you, you’ve both taken it to stride and made the most out of the experience. Your husband hoping for another few along the way but you made him promise to wait until little Katherine was a little older first.

“Asleep for once.” You sighed resting your head against your husband’s shoulders as you two continued watching the boys helping out for the party. “Why are we letting them help us with our own party again?”

“They did this to themselves surprisingly. When they heard we’re having this party, they immediately worried about you and the baby and adding the mess of the party to the mix. You’ve got those boys wrapped around your fingers and it’s worrisome at times.”

You giggled nudging him slightly at this comment.

“Speaking of people wrapped around your fingers, Alejandro and Rudy will also be coming tonight.”

You smiled, happy to know more of the friends you’ve made during missions have also come to visit. Having missed your time on the base, having them here for a get together would be a treat. You would also be ignoring the implication of your husband’s words towards Las Almas’ Colonel and Sergeant Major.

Somehow, it had become a topic of discussion for the rest of the boys how the Colonel had a little crush on you which you thought was ridiculous. Alejandro Vargas was nothing but professional to you and to the rest of the team. As far as you know, the man was just a little appreciative of the help you had given to them during Grave’s takeover of his base all those months ago, nothing more.

“You think Kate, Farah, and Alex would be able to visit too?” You inquired.

“They’re already on their flight here.” He smiled arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Kate’s been bugging me about the house when I told him about the renovations.”

You shook your head already imagining how much teasing Kate probably needed to do for him to finally relent in having the party here instead of renting a place.

A sudden thought had popped into your head as you turned directly towards your husband.

“Hold on, aside from the three boys, who else knows about our relationship?” You inquired.

He blinked only realizing himself that he hasn’t gotten around and told anyone about the two of you. Everyone had become aware of him having a wife and the paternity leave he had to take meant everyone was also aware that he was a new father, but no one not even Kate was made aware that you were the wife and the mother of his six-month old daughter.

“John did you not tell them yet?” You questioned.

“I may or may not have forgotten to tell everyone.” He grinned sheepishly.

Before you could give him an earful, the sound of your daughter’s cries halted you from your actions. You’ve all but noticed the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. Oh you’re going to get back at him for this somehow. You just know it.

“Rookie, it’s good to finally see you. How’s the leave been?”

Captain John Price was a lot of things. He was a patient man. He could be a brash man. He was a man that commands respect and authority. But in this very moment as you wore his favorite sun dress on you, he knew he could not be all of those things.

He was being punished. It was a certain and each and every single men of his Taskforce knows about it as well. It had honestly and genuinely slipped his mind, with both the past mission and his need to finally be back at home, he never had the time to orient everyone and anyone involved at base about his relationship and marriage to you until now that is.

“Good to see you and the wife too.” You smiled turning your eyes towards your husband pointedly before beginning an animated conversation with Kate and her wife.

John and the rest of the boys were in charge of grilling and giving everyone refreshments. You had decided it was your job to be a good host to everyone as people were slowly but surely filling his home.

“Someone’s sleeping in the couch tonight then?” It was Simon that pointed it out and John could only glare at the man as he continued on with flipping the steaks.

All three of the boys had become aware of the pettiness you could dish out towards their Captain. It wasn’t so often that it happens but the paradigm shift of their Captain not truly being in charge as soon as he was in the confinements of his own home.

“Happy wife, happy life.” John found himself speaking as his attention was still set on the grill.

His own anxiety somehow spiked up the moment an all too familiar Spanish endearment had escapade from the Las Almas-native. Alejandro Vargas was fashionably late as ever.

He had ordered Simon to continue on with cooking as he made his way towards where Alejandro was now in a full discussion with you. It didn’t escape John’s eyes the smoldering look the Colonel was giving his wife. What annoyed him even more was how much you were unbothered—or rather, unaware of it on your own end. Giving the man a smile and those warm gaze that was somewhat always reserved for him and the rest of his men.

“Good to see you, Alejandro.” John had interrupted your little conversation.

“Price. It’s good to see you again, Hermano.” The man chuckled enveloping him into a hug for a moment.

Even with the conversation that now began between him and the Colonel, It didn’t miss his gaze how the both of them would glance right at you as you now stood beside John and joining in on the conversation. It also didn’t escape anyone’s notice how your hand held onto his arm, showcasing the often concealed engagement ring and wedding ring he had gifted you all those years ago when he proposed and made you his wife.

“I see you’ve gotten married while on break, it seems congratulations are in order.” Alejandro finally acknowledge the elephant in the room taking everyone’s notice as well.

“Actually,” You trailed off turning your head towards him, a playful smile on your lips almost waiting for him to make the acknowledgement instead.

“We—we just had a baby.” John finally admits at the same time the sound of the baby monitor going off.

Everyone was silent aside from Soap and Gaz’s cackles. With a relieved smile you excused yourself to get the baby for everyone to meet leaving John on the hotseat, especially at the hands of both Kate and Farah.

“Hold on, since when have you and Rookie been in a relationship?” Kate questioned, a big smile playing on her face. Oh he could already see the array of torment that was to come during missions with this tidbit about his personal life.

“Since I was a Sergeant and she was a newly appointed Lieutenant.” John sighed scratching his beard and knowing full well you were taking your sweet time with your daughter leaving him to the wolves. “Married for fourteen years.” He added, being all too reminded of the fact that as soon as he had finished up with the mission that saved both Farah and her brother all those years ago, he knew it in his heart that there would never be a perfect time for the two of you to marry but in that very moment in your humble apartment in the heart of London all those years ago.

“Fuck, I lost the bet then.” Alex interrupted the moment of shock still resting on everyone as he handed Farah a few quid which she happily took with a smug smile on her face.

“Well I appreciate the bets being thrown around about my personal life.” He muttered.

“I’ve always knew something was going on with the two of you, Old man.” Farah pointed out. “It was just a matter of determining what status the two of you were to each other at this point.”

So much for acting low key about his relationship.

The hot seat was now away from him as you walked back out with the prettiest little baby he had ever seen in his life (he was bias definitely as this was his child after all). Woken up from her nap, John could see his daughter still cranky as you continued to coo her.

“Just woke up from her nap.” You excuse immediately handing the baby to him. A smile resting on his lips now as how easy it was to calm his daughter in his hands. How quick it was for her own similar blue eyes to lock onto him for comfort and safety. It was all he could ever give and more to both of his girls.

“Looks just like you, Cap.” Alex pointed out earning a snort out of you and a proud chuckle out of John.

It was an ongoing banter between the two of you, how you complain about carrying your daughter for nine months only for her to look just like him. But his daughter has your eyes and he was all too certain would be used against him when she learns how to do the puppy dog eyes when she grows up.

“Cries like him too.” Simon quipped earning a pointed look from John and giggle from you and laughter from everyone else.

At the booming laughter of one Soap MacTavish, the first line of tears had burst out of his daughter and you and John had given the man a glare as he began to coo his daughter from her tears.

To say freely acting like a husband and wife in front of most of your coworkers was awkward but a little refreshing to say the least. With your daughter pawned off to her uncles for the next hour or two, it meant you and your husband could freely socialize with the rest of the team in attendance.

“Still can’t believe you two were able to keep it hidden for so long.” It was Kate that finally broke the ice.

“Less hassle for either of us.” John shrugged off, pulling you closer to him.

It was all the more refreshing to see this side of him that no one usually sees. With you sitting on his lap on the love seat as you continued on with your conversation with Kate. How he would do anything and everything in his power to have you close to him, touching any skin he gets his hands on—at this moment it was his hands on your thighs as he held onto them to support you.

“That the reason why you dragged her along with you the TF?” She inquired, playfully.

“One of the reasons, but not the top reason.” John assured.

It was still much of a surrealistic moment when you were called one day by Kate about the Taskforce your husband was forming. You, of all people knew that he wanted to make sure that your lines of work and personal life were separate. But somehow, your capabilities overrode those principles you both have made to each other.

You did your job, quiet well too, so it wasn’t much of a worry that your relationship and association to the man would be also place under scrutiny now when all was said and done. It wasn’t much of an issue when most, if not all of the people in the base had already been calling the both of you as work spouses to each other.

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felassan · 8 months ago

Text

Dragon Age: The Veilguard - known Character Creation info Part 2

[LINK TO PART 1] <- since I hit the character limit in that post I had to make a Part 2 ^^;

This post is just another dump collection of info and snippets that came out about CC (& some related topics). if you’ve been following the news or reading posts here, it’s not new info or anything, I just put it together in one place here for convenience. ( ˶´ ᵕ `˶ )

if you notice anything missing, pls lmk. there’s a bit of repetition of info in places as prev posts (including Part 1) on the topic overlapped.

---

Although non-natural hair colors like blue and purple are available for Rook in the CC, all NPCs in the game have natural hair colors [source]

A user asked if there are instances wherein Rook will be referred to by their last name. “Yes, there are places where we refer to Rook by their last name. It’s very contextual - we don’t want to awkwardly insert a reference in where it doesn’t make sense - but it does happen, though it is going to be more common with some backgrounds than others.” [source: the official BioWare Discord]

You can have body tattoos [source: the official BioWare Discord]

A user stated “There are no restrictions on lineage/faction/class combinations other than dwarves cannot be mages”. Corinne added “Correct." [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Q. “Will the gender identity of a trans/non-binary Rook be acknowledged in game by other characters? (beyond just pronouns I mean)”. A. “There are moments when you can disclose and discuss, however, disclosure remains the right of the individual so you have to make that choice for yourself. [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Q. “Will we get the option to give our Rook more fantastical hair colors, like purple, blue, pink?”. A. “Yes” [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Q. “How about heterochromatic eyes?” A. “Yes” [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Q. ’‘Will I be able to make a short qunari and a tall dwarf or are there limits to that? Do the qunari have to be buff?“ A. ’'There are limitations, of course… but yes, you can make a Dwarf that is tall or a Qunari that is short, relative to their lineage. We stan the skinny Qunari” [source: the official BioWare Discord]

the armors mesh and mold to every body [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In CC you can customize things like shoulder width, chest size, glute size, hip width, how bloodshot your eyes are, nose crookedness, and more [source: the Game Informer cover story article, DA:TV spoiler warning for link]

There are hundreds of sliders for body proportions [source: the Game Informer cover story article, DA:TV spoiler warning for link]

CC detail: “Features like skin hue, tone, melanin” [source: the Game Informer cover story article, DA:TV spoiler warning for link]

There is nudity in DA:TV, “which I learned firsthand while customizing my Rook” in CC [source: the Game Informer cover story article, DA:TV spoiler warning for link]

Rook’s backstory also affects “reputation standing”, along with the other previously-known things like in-game dialogue etc [source: the Game Informer cover story article, DA:TV spoiler warning for link]

The 4 voices we can choose for Rook each have a pitch shifter in CC [source: the Game Informer cover story article, DA:TV spoiler warning for link]

The devs used the DA:TV CC to make each in-world NPC, except for specific characters like companions [source: the Game Informer cover story article, DA:TV spoiler warning for link]

If you play as e.g. a qunari Rook, the camera adjusts to ensure larger characters like them loom over those below. The camera also adjusts appropriately for dwarves to demonstrate their smaller stature [source: the Game Informer cover story article, DA:TV spoiler warning for link]

If you are playing, e.g., a qunari, and you encounter elfy stuff, you might be missing unique dialogue options and an elf Rook would have more to say at that point [source: the Game Informer cover story article, DA:TV spoiler warning for link]

Twitter user: “Please please please let me make a feminine shaped body with no chest, begging for non-binary to be something I can present not just a pronoun slap”. Saira: “this will be entirely possible with the body sliders!” [source]

“Last names are based on your faction. You can customize your first name, however.” [source: the official BioWare Discord]

“In-world - Rook is a nickname you’re given before the events of the game, and it’s what everyone refers to you as. It allows for other characters to refer to you in dialogue without awkwardly having to write around not having a defined title, while still allowing for name customization.” Also, in the game, it is explained why we got the nickname Rook in the past. [source: the official BioWare Discord]

“There are specific lines and dialogue options for different lineages, as well as different backgrounds, and classes, including at least a handful that are unique to lineage/background combinations. No specifics but we wanted to make sure the game felt reactive to the choices you made in creating your Rook.” [source: the official BioWare Discord]

A user asked whether elven Rook is Dalish or City. Answer: “It’ll depend on your background. As mentioned previously, certain lineages will have variations of that background that go into more detail where appropriate.” [source: the official BioWare Discord]

“Without getting into spoiler territory - Rook’s a hero because they chose to be, not because they were chosen. Your choice of background fills in some of the details - and you get opportunities to define it further - but some things we leave up to you to fill in.” [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Twitter user: “Is Rook a nickname or their actual name?” Michael Gamble: “Nickname. The thing that people call you on the game.” [source]

“Oh just wait. The hair tech is phenomenal in this. Even I was thinking "aye is this a Bioware game!?” lol.“ [source]

“One thing I’m particularly happy about and can’t get over is how much better the hair rendering is. It might be a small thing to some but it looks incredible. It’s in another stratosphere compared to DAI.” [source]

“Everyone in the previews was gushing about how robust the CC is in Veilguard so there might be a decent chance to make some wild Qunari designs.” [source]

The 9 specs Rook can be (3 for each class) are:

Warrior - Champion, Reaper, Slayer Rogue - Duelist, Saboteur, Veil Ranger Mage - Death Caller, Evoker, Spellblade [more info here]

Update with new/further info up until June 27th:

Each spec is tied to a faction [source]. the faction each spec is tied to is as follows:

Mage: Death Caller - Mourn Watch Evoker - Shadow Dragons Spellblade - Antivan Crows Rogue: Duelist - Antivan Crows Veil Ranger - Veil Jumper Saboteur - Lords of Fortune Warrior: Champion - Grey Wardens Reaper - Mourn Watch Slayer - Lords of Fortune [source]

Magic “remains elusive” to dwarven Rooks [source]

“Lemmy from Motorhead” beards [source]

A user asked if they could see pics of the CC. Corinne: “If only I could. But hold tight, you’ll all be sharing your lovely creations with me soon enough 💜” [source]

A user asked “Please tell me we finally get black clothing and/or armor?” Corinne: “There are many gorgeous fits. Just you wait 😉” [source]

User: “Fingers crossed we can play as Qunari again!” Corinne: “You can and they are ✨💅” [source]

"SO many options and beautiful hair choices and very intricate skin details" [source]

"It really felt like they were trying to be very careful in making sure they had good representation with hair textures and not gender locking anything, it was all about choice. The devs put lot of care and thought into it" [source]

In CC we will be able to customize qunari Rook’s horn type and material [source]

There are “hundreds of options” in CC [source]

Selecting Rook’s faction is the penultimate step in CC [source]

The Lords of Fortune are pirated-themed [source]

Each faction has unique casual wear worn in specific cutscenes when the character isn’t wearing armor [source]

Each faction has 3 unique traits, e.g. for Lords of Fortune, they gain additional reputation with this particular faction, have increased damage versus mercenaries, and perform takedowns on enemies with slightly less effort [source]

“Faction selection, which ties into your character’s backstory, determines who your Rook was before, how they met Varric, why they travel with Varric instead of their faction, and more” [source]

Rook’s appearance can be changed using the Mirror of Transformation in the Lighthouse, but not their class, lineage and "identity" [source]

The unique faction-based casual wears are "very pretty” ^^ [source]

CC has sliders for width and height on pretty much every body part [source]

BioWare said “they worked with Black consultants to ensure they got hairstyles and textures right and authentic for masculine and feminine options” [source]

CC is expansive, robust, rich; BioWare’s best yet. At its heart is inclusivity [source]

BioWare used it to create most of the NPCs in the game, main chars like companions aside [source]

When browsing through the presets, the game allows for more detailed looks at each [source]

Pronoun choice is separate to gender identity choice [source]

Different body types available [source]

Before exiting CC Rook can be viewed in 4 different lighting scenes at any time, “including The Veilguard’s keynote purple hue, a bright and sunny tropical day, and a gothic night”. The team worked hard to quash the issues caused by the green lighting in DA:I’s CC [source]

Head and body presets can be selected individually and customized [source]

40 different complexions including smooth, rugged, youthful, freckled [source]

Skin hues range from cool to neutral to warm [source]

Undertones to these skin tones [source]

Melanin slider [source]

BioWare engaged consultation to represent people authentically

Vitiligo slider (intensity and amount adjustable) [source]

Sliders for forehead, brow, cheeks, jaw, chin, larynx and scalp [source]

Selectable undergarments, with nudity [source]

The “Body Morpher” involves “select[ing] three presets for each corner of a triangle and then mov[ing] a cursor within it to morph your body or head into a mix of these presets” [source]

Adjust height, shoulder width, chest size, glute and bulge size, hip width, how bloodshot your eyes are, how visible cataracts are, the sclera color, how crooked your nose is, how big its bridge is, the size of nostrils and the nose tip [source]

Many sliders for things like mouth and ears [source]

On ears: you can adjust asymmetry, depth, rotation, earlobe size [source]

For ears you can have cauliflower ear [source]

The makeup blends modern stylings with the fantasy of DA. It has more than 30 options including eyeliner intensity, color, glitter, eye shadow, lips, and blush [source]

Tattoos are a thing. Add them to Rook’s face, body, arms, legs. Their intensity is adjustable [source]

Tattoos are customizable [source]

Scar options [source]

Paint options [source]

“Tattoos, scars, and paint are very culturally relevant to some lineages, BioWare tells me, with unique tattoos for elves, for example” [source]

Hair options: a ton. Hair can be non-traditional colors. Hair is gorgeous. Frostbite uses the Strand system to render “each style fully with physics” [source]

Select qunari Rook’s horn type and material - more than 40 options available [source]

4 voices. English masculine, English feminine, American masculine, American feminine. Each has a pitch slider [source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #lgbtq #longpost #if you havent read these 2 posts #you should!! :>#there is so much good shit(TM) about the CC

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wildrangers · 6 months ago

Note

I have a matt smith request, this is like a part 2 kinda on your "surprising matt you're pregnant" fic, can you do where they call their friends/castmates to tell she's pregnant and to see their reactions. Thankyouuuu

I’m thinking this is going to be a small series of sorts but nothing extensive. I have a few other family-focused asks waiting to be written so I’m planning to have it be the same reader character. That way, it’ll be its own little universe of sorts but also each can be a stand alone. Here is the pregnancy surprise ask, a part one of sorts 🙂

Tropes & Topics: pregnancy, fluff

Word Count: 1.2K

“But love, everyone is going to be so excited!” Matt argues, pouting dramatically.

“I know Matt, I’m not saying they won’t be” you reply, resting your hands on his chest. “But I’m still in the first trimester and I want to keep things small right now. Our parents know, as does your sister who I’m so thrilled will be little one’s godmother. That’s plenty for now, okay?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry to push�� he apologizes, covering your hands with his own. “I’m just rubbish at keeping secrets.”

“Think of it like an NDA for a show” you suggest and he chuckles, nodding.

“I feel awful not telling Fabs, especially since we know we want him to be the godfather.”

“Why don’t we plan to tell him first then?”

“Brilliant idea, my love” he replies, kissing between your brows.

So, two months later and officially into your fourth month of pregnancy, you were putzing around the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner for the small party you and Matt had planned. Everyone but Fabien had been given a start time of six so when the doorbell chimed shortly after half past five you knew who Matt would be greeting.

“Oh it smells lovely in here!” you hear Fabien compliment from behind you a moment later and you turn to greet him with a smile.

“Why thank you! How are you doing?” you ask, giving him a long hug.

“I’m well, it’s generous of you two to host this before the first leg of international shooting for season two.”

“Oh we’re happy to, it’s always wonderful having everyone altogether. I know you lot will get to see each other all the time but since I’m not on set…”

“I mean you could finally quit the job you don’t really like and join us,” Fabien suggests, smiling. This was not a new conversation amongst your and Matt’s friends and little did he know your bags were packed alongside Matt’s in your bedroom.

“Time will tell” you allow, grinning at the surprised look on his face as Matt joins you two in the kitchen, handing Fabien a glass of wine.

“Well it’s not a no like usual, so I'll certainly take that. Matt, are you finally getting through to your lovely fiancée?”

“You know I always defer to her wisdom” Matt smiles, squeezing your shoulder before stirring the pot left on the stove.

“I guess that’s a good segue to some exciting news” you grin and Fabien’s eyes widen. “I’m actually going to Spain with you all!”

“No! You cad, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Fabien chastises Matt before wrapping you in another excited hug. “Oh, we’re going to have the best time, Y/N.”

“I’ve never been to Spain and this seemed like the perfect time to since I actually did recently resign from work.”

“What?! Why?” Fabien asks, eyes bulging even wider somehow.

“Well, we need to focus on packing up the apartment here so we can move into our new home just outside the city” Matt explains, chuckling more as Fabien’s shock deepens.

“I didn’t even know you two were thinking of moving, this place has been a staple of yours for years now. What’s changed?”

“Well, we want to make sure there’s plenty of room for the baby” Matt says casually and Fabien nods along until the words finally hit him.

“Are you being serious?!” Fabien asks, hands clapped over his mouth.

“Surprise!” you laugh and Fabien’s eyes begin to moisten. “Oh Fabs…”

“Oh mates, I’m so happy for you both” he replies, pulling Matt into a firm hug, clapping him on the back a few times before releasing him to place a kiss on your cheek. “Wait, who else knows? Is that why I’m the only one here?”

“Just you other than immediate family” you reply, looking pointedly at Matt.

“Oh gosh, I can't wait to be Uncle Fabien!”

“Uncle is great, but how does godfather sound?” Matt asks, voice thick with emotion. The two share a long look as Fabien’s eyes dampen further.

“Matt, you’re joking” Fabien says quietly, eyes darting between you both.

“Fabien, you’re one of the best men I’ve ever met. I can’t think of anyone else that we'd rather be their godfather” you say earnestly and Fabien brushes a few tears away before pulling you into a tight embrace.

“I am beyond honored,” Fabien says, clasping Matt on the shoulder. “Oh gosh, everyone’s going to flip!”

“I know, right? I’ve wanted to tell everyone for months now” Matt replies eagerly and you shake your head, smiling, as you take the pot off the stove and begin reaching for the last platter you need.

“Y/N, stop, let me” Fabien cuts in, easily reaching the top shelf you’d been stretching towards.

“I’m pregnant, not an invalid” you say fiercely, glaring at him while you take the serving dish.

“Oh lovely, I won’t have to be the only one who hears that line now” Matt says enthusiastically and you stick your tongue out at him.

“I keep saying it because it’s true!”

“Yes, but we love you and we love little one so let us take care of you both, please?” Fabien requests and you sigh, stepping aside and letting the two men lift the heavy serving platters of food just as the doorbell rings.

“You don’t say a word Fabien, okay? We have it all planned out” Matt warned and Fabien mimes zipping his lips.

Soon enough, everyone’s seated around the table and Matt’s tapping his glass to get everyone’s attention. “Thank you all so much for joining Y/N and I, I’ll make this quick. I know we lured you here as this being a send off for the start of season two but it’s a bit more than that. This is actually going to be our last party at this place, as we’re moving to a home outside the city shortly.”

“Oh congratulations, how exciting” Emma smiles and you thank them as everyone choruses their agreement.

“What, are you two about to pop out a couple of kids now since you’re moving to the suburbs?” Olivia jokes and everyone laughs, you loudest of all.

“I don’t know about a couple but definitely one this year” you say slyly. There’s a moment of silence while everyone processes your words before your friends erupt in celebration.

“Oh my gosh, I would never have said anything if I knew, I’m so sorry!” Olivia insists, cheeks flaming red.

“No, no it’s fine that was actually a perfect set up so thank you” you reply sincerely.

“When are you due?!” Tom questions, scooping food onto his plate before passing the bowl around.

“Late May so we’ll have either a little Taurus or Gemini” you reply, excited.

“Oh, she has to be a Gemini, that would be amazing!” Phia says emphatically and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “Matt’s too stubborn already, a Taurus wouldn’t mesh well.”

“Wait, she?” Matt questions, brows raised. “Do you know something we don’t know yet?”

“No, no, just a feeling,” she explains.

“Well, I think it’s a boy,” Ewan jumps in.

“Place your bets now, we have that appointment in a little less than a month.”

As your friends debate around you, Matt squeezes your hand drawing your attention to him. “I love you, darling” he says quietly, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“And we love you” you reply and his face breaks into that familiar grin that sends your heart racing each time you see it. You’d started saying we since surprising him with the pregnancy announcement and it never fails to earn you that beloved smile of his.

taglist: @slayraxes-blogs @littlehorrorlover @decaffeinatedparadisepost

#asked and answered!#matt smith #matt smith imagine #matt smith x reader #matt smith fanfiction #matt smith fic

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daisynik7 · 1 year ago

Text

Epilogue

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.7k

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd), established relationship, explicit language, smut – phone sex, PIV sex (cowgirl, doggy), nipple play, clitoral stimulation, lots of dirty talk, degrading language (use of the word slut), pet names (babe, baby, baby girl, good girl, princess, sweetheart)

Summary: All of what happens in four months of dating your new boyfriend slash past rival Aoi Todo, leading up to Takada-Chan’s “Winter Wonderland”.

Author’s Notes: Things get explicit here! This is just a fun little bonus chapter to see our two idol fans going at it (literally). Hope you enjoy! Thank you everyone for all the love and support on this, I really appreciate it! Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Tag List: @iwillbiteabitch

Dating Aoi Todo is never boring. If you’ve learned anything from this relationship so far, it’s that.

Also, taking things slow has proved to be much more difficult than you and Todo ever anticipated, especially when the two of you are alone together. That commitment is broken about a week into your budding relationship.

The night of the confession, you and your new boyfriend talked for hours while Sara slept on your couch as a watchdog. You didn’t dare try anything with your best friend right outside just a few feet away. To prevent temptation, you set up an air mattress for him as the night progressed, agreeing to sleep separately. The only physical contact you made was when you both feel asleep in your respective beds, holding hands. Cute, innocent, and wholesome.

After that night, you and Todo started texting every day. He is a man who loves sending good morning texts, along with an array of different emojis. His favorites are the smirking face (of course), the muscle flex (another of course), and surprisingly, the koala bear, which always leaves you with a goofy smile on your face whenever you see it.

Four days after the confession, there is a late-night phone call that lasts over three hours, covering different topics from favorite foods (his is skirt steak, yours is salmon nigiri), ideal date ideas (both of you said a Takada-Chan concert), and pet peeves (he said boredom, you said passive aggressiveness).

This call also may or may not have ended with phone sex.

You and Todo just finished discussing your favorite movies when he asks, “Aren’t you sleepy? It’s past one already.”

“I drank a lot of matcha today, so I’m still wide awake,” you explain, shifting around beneath your blanket.

There is silence on the other line and after a while, he finally says, “I can help you fall asleep. So, what are you wearing?”

You snort into the phone, laughing at his less-than-subtle attempt. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“Come on! Just play along!” He clears his throat and in a significantly lower octave, he repeats, “So…what are you wearing?”

You do your best to hide your giggles. “A t-shirt and pajama shorts.”

Even his smirk is audible through the phone. “Sexy.”

Cheeks getting sore from smiling , you comment, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re not very good at this?”

“I’m good at it! Come on babe, you’re ruining the mood. Just…let me get in the groove.”

Growing impatient from his feeble attempts, you take matters into your own hands. “Why don’t you think about me in that mini skirt you like so much. The one from Takada-Chan’s birthday. I know how much you like that.”

“Okay,” he replies quietly, some movement evident on his end.

“You’re supposed to show me how rough you like it, remember?”

“Yeah,” he blurts out, starting to breathe heavily. “Can we do that one time? Please?”

Hearing him beg arouses you, hand reaching between your legs, spreading them wider beneath the covers. Feeling too brazen at this point, you purr, “Only if you can make me come right now.”

He whispers your name under his breath, followed by a husky, “Fuck. Tell me what you want to hear.” There’s movement against cloth and you can only imagine now that he’s touching himself, palming the bulge straining inside his briefs.

You shove your panties down your legs, rubbing circles around your clit. “Tell me how you want to fuck me in that skirt.” You’re already wet with arousal, though you don’t tell him that yet, keeping it a naughty secret to reveal when the time is right.

“I want you to ride me in that fucking skirt. Want to bounce you on my fat cock.” His growl is guttural, too fitting for a grade-A beefcake like him. Of course he sounds this sexy when he’s turned on, and of course you’re falling fast for it.

Desperate to hear more, you goad him. “Yeah? What else?”

He swears harshly again, loving the way you coax him into being bad. “Want to suck on your tits while you’re bouncing on me. Want to play with your clit until you squirt all over my cock.”

“Fuck, I’m touching myself right now,” you whine, squirming against your fingers.

His voice is erratic, trembling with frenzy, gradually losing himself to the pleasure. “Yeah? Imagine my big fucking thumb on your pretty clit, rubbing it so fucking fast until you come on my big dick.”

“I’m so wet for you, so creamy for you.” You’re salivating, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, fingers squelching lewdly between your thighs.

“Spread it all over,” he demands. If you listen closely enough, you can hear the rapid strokes of his cock within his fist. “Do it, slut.”

You obey his orders, sliding your middle finger up and down your slit, collecting your slick to smear it over your throbbing bud, so close to your orgasm. In a daze, you moan his name, letting is roll off your tongue.

He jerks himself off to completion, coming from the sweet sounds of his name from your mouth. In between heavy breaths, he grunts harshly. “Fuck. I just came. Sorry.”

You giggle, slowing the pace of your fingers, teasing him. “I thought you were the one that offered to help mefall asleep?”

Embarrassed, he says, “I know, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect you to say my name like that. That really got me.” There’s more shuffling in the background as you picture him inspecting his own mess. “Holy shit, I came a lot.”

“You should go to bed. You’re probably sleepy now.”

“No, not yet. I have to make you come still,” he offers, determined.

“It’s fine.”

“No. I need to make you come tonight so I can fuck you in that skirt. It’s going to happen.”

You learn that when Todo is determined to do something, he does it. He is a man that, when given any challenge, will do his damn best to complete it no matter what.

~~~

Not counting the phone sex, Todo could confidently say that they have been successful in taking things slow. That is, until a few days after the infamous phone sex, when all hell breaks loose.

It begins when his girlfriend decides to host a Takada-Chan concert marathon. The pop idol kicks off her international tour a week after Todo’s confession. To honor the start of it, she invites him, Sara, and Yuji to eat a bunch of delicious food and binge watch all Takada-Chan’s concerts available on streaming platforms. Sara and Yuji stay a while, but after the fourth consecutive Takada-Chan concert, they have enough, leaving the couple alone to their own devices, which anyone could guess is not a good idea if they are still sticking to the “taking things slow” route.

As soon as their friends leave, the two give each other one glance before the kissing starts. He spent all day resisting the temptation to touch her in any way since they were with Sara and Yuji. It’s been an excruciating four hours considering how cute and irresistible his girlfriend is.

She slides her hands under his shirt, pawing at his eight-pack. He slips his tongue inside her mouth as he completely pulls his shirt off. She pulls back, gawking at his body with wide eyes and an open mouth, practically drooling for him. “Like what you see?” he teases, raising a brow at her. She nods her head, leaning in for more kisses.

Eventually, she whispers, “Wait.”

He stops, leaning back on the couch. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just have a little surprise for you. Wait here.” She gets up and disappears into her bedroom, leaving Todo confused and concerned. After several agonizingly long minutes, she comes out. When he sees her, his jaw drops, blood rushing straight to his cock.

The mini skirt. She’s wearing the fucking mini skirt. Not only that, she’s also wearing the same blouse she wore at the café, the one that exposes her shoulders and plunging neckline. Essentially the same outfit he has fantasized about since. In one swift motion, he hoists her up onto his lap, spreading her legs so that she’s straddling him. “You’re such a good girl for me, huh?” he growls, scattering wet smooches all over her face. “Such a good girl.” He fondles her body beneath the skirt and to his shock and delight, she isn’t wearing any underwear. “Not even wearing any panties for me, you fucking slut.”

“Only for you,” she whispers, directing his giant hand to her pussy. “Do you feel how wet I am for you already?”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, pressing his thumb to her and drawing circles around her clit. A guttural moan vibrates from her throat, making him move his thumb faster.

“I want you,” he grunts, feeling fucking feral beneath her.

“You want to fuck me here on the couch?” She’s panting now as his fingers brush against her bud faster.

“Yeah, right here, right now. Show me that pretty pussy.” With his free hand, he lifts the hem of her skirt to put her on display, watching her melt away in the palm of his hand, thumb unyielding against her clit. It glistens with her slick and his dick get tighter and tighter in his pants from the mere sight of it.

She tugs at the waistband of his joggers to release his erection. There’s a thick bead of precum on the tip. She rubs her thumb on it, spreading it over the head, causing him to groan in pleasure. Somehow, she conjures up a bottle of lube and pours a generous amount straight onto him, then she slides her fist up and down his shaft. In this moment of pure ecstasy, he can’t help but thank the pop idol gods for bringing this goddess of a woman into his life. He slides his fingers inside her, relishing how wet she is. Everything is happening so fast; his carnal desires take control. “Fucking ride me,” he commands.

She gets up on her knees, guiding the tip of his dick to her fluttering hole. Slowly, she sinks down on him, moaning. This is the hottest thing he’s ever fucking seen in his life. “So tight for me. My good girl,” he coos, gripping at her hips and gently moving her further down his shaft.

“So big, baby. Oh my god,” she whines. Once he bottoms out, she grabs hold of his shoulders and rocks back and forth on his lap, adjusting to his size.

“Take the skirt off. Want to watch you fuck yourself on my fat cock.”

He tries to lift her up from his lap, but she shakes her head. “Don’t pull out. Feels so good. So good.”

Absolutely unhinged, Todo growls, “I’m going to rip this skirt off, then. Need to see your pussy creaming all over me.” He hooks to the waistband, easily ripping it along the seams, tossing it behind him. Smirking, he whispers, “That’s it. Just like that.”

“My skirt!” she cries out, shocked and aroused.

“I’ll buy you a new one, princess. I’ll buy you hundreds more so I can fuck you just like this.” He holds her waist again, setting the pace, thrusting his own hips into her. His eyes are glued to the shiny ring of her cum collecting on the base of his cock. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that? You wanted to get fucked in that skirt, huh? Such a slut for me.” He releases his tight grip on her as soon as she starts bouncing up and down on her own, digging her nails into the skin of his shoulders, fucking herself deeper. The sounds she makes are music to his ears.

He focuses on her clit again, massaging it with his thumb. She gasps, startling him. “You okay, sweetie?” He cups her cheek, caressing her skin softly.

“Yes, so fucking good!” Her eyes are half-lidded, mouth parted open, looking absolutely divine. She grabs at his wrist and puts her lips over his thumb, completely engulfing it into her sloppy mouth. She moves him in and out, swirling her tongue around him with each stroke.

He bites his lip to stifle a moan. It takes everything in his willpower to hold back his orgasm. The way she moans, the fucked out look on her face, the thumb sucking. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He pulls out of her mouth and switch hands to place his wet thumb on her clit, while the other hand, still glistening from her slick, glides underneath her blouse and up to one of her nipples. She isn’t wearing a bra.

“Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs as he strips the blouse off her body. He squeezes one of her breasts and puts his lips around the nipple, sucking hard. With both her hands, she squeezes her tits together, leaning forward, feeding them to him.

“Yeah, want to feed me these big tits, huh baby? So fucking needy.” He buries his face in between her breasts, kissing her nipples one at a time.

“Suck them hard,” she whimpers. He alternates between each breast, sucking hard until each nipple is taut and plump between his pursed lips.

Mouth hot on his ear, she purrs, “Baby, I’m so close.”

“Come for me, beautiful. Come all over my cock.”

With his lips latched onto her breasts, thumb relentless on her clit, and cock deep in her pussy, it’s no surprise when, after just a few more minutes, she throws her head back and cries out, “I’m coming!” She clenches around him, creating a sensation of pure ecstasy, he can’t help but orgasm right along with her. She moans as it continues, his thick cum filling her up, the excess dripping down the inner plush of her thighs. She collapses against him, panting and trembling slightly from the euphoric rush. Todo cradles her in a warm embrace, burying his face into her neck.

“You did so good, sweetie. So good for me. Thank you,” he muffles, breathing heavily against her skin.

“That was amazing,” she says, still slumped over Todo.

“You should go pee, baby. Don’t want you to get a UTI.”

“Just give me a few minutes. I’m tired.”

Todo, who is also exhausted from having the biggest orgasm of his life, gets up and carries his girlfriend bridal style into the bathroom. He plops her down on the toilet and turns the shower on. When he hears the distinct sound of a tinkle, he breathes a sigh of relief. No girlfriend of Aoi Todo will ever get a UTI from sex, not on his watch.

~~~

Once the floodgates open, nothing stops you and Todo from pouncing on each other every chance you get. The sex is always nothing short of amazing. Despite not being able to keep your hands off each other, you still try to keep PDA down to a minimum. But Todo, being the big bravado self he is, let’s his guard down a few times. He still grabs your ass in public, especially when you’re wearing dresses, shorts, or skirts. And honestly, after the first time, you intentionally started wearing skirts more often just to tease him.

Whenever you do indulge in the occasional kiss in front of your friends, Todo always gets carried away, shamelessly driving his tongue into your mouth. Normally, you love this, but only in private. Understandably, Sara always gives your boyfriend a whack on top of the head to get him to stop, which he does before muttering an embarrassed apology.

Besides the disgust over the occasional PDA, Sara and Todo get along great. They bond over working out, horror movies, and teasing you. Todo’s brother Yuji is your brother now too. He’ll ask you for advice when it comes to girls or his friendships. You ask him for advice on how to deal with annoying people at work, since Todo’s advice is always, “Just tell me their name and I will beat the shit out of them.”

As with any relationship, there are issues you two have to work through. When Todo first explains his job, you are convinced he is playing some bizarre prank on you. To be fair, someone describing themselves as a “Jujutsu Sorcerer” who “exorcises” evil curses sounds like something straight out of a shounen anime. When he demonstrate Boogie Woogie, where he manages to switch positions with Yuji in the blink of an eye, you are certain you are going crazy. After a few weeks of processing everything, with a lot of patience from Todo and moral support from Yuji, you can safely say you’ve made peace with understanding the gist of Todo’s profession. Of course, there is still plenty that you can’t grasp, but Todo’s confidence in himself relieves the stress caused by that uncertainty.

There are times of jealousy and insecurity on both sides that lead to fighting and arguments. When you start your full-time job after the summer, he gets jealous over one of your male coworkers training you for a week. Even after doing your best to convince him that it is strictly professional, he still can’t help himself from making snide remarks about your coworker at the end of the week. An issue that you’re still working on, and slowly getting better at, is trying not to be petty when you get annoyed with him. During this time, you just can’t help yourself.

Eventually, you manage to find the best way to shut him up.

It’s been two weeks since you started your new full-time job. This week, you worked with a coworker, Kenji Saito, for training. Saito is a man several years older than you who is married with kids. But none of this matters to Todo because he is still jealous. As you prepare dinner at his place, you mention, “Training went well. Saito said I should be ready for my first project next week.”

Todo grunts. “Saito. I’m surprised you’re not calling him by his first name yet. You two have been spending soooo much time together.”

You smile to yourself, unable to resist provoking him. “I barely call you by your first name. But if you want, I can start calling him Kenji.”

He moves behind you like a lion stalking his prey, growling in your ear. “Don’t do that.”

You turn to face him, his body towering above you, casting a daunting shadow. “What are you going to do about it, Aoi?”

As quickly as he moved behind you, he slings you over his shoulder, carrying you into the bedroom. He tosses you onto his bed, stripping off his clothes while you do the same, already wet against your panties. You’re laid on your back when he straddles you, the way he looms over you intensifies the growing sensation in your loins. He leans down to kiss you sloppily. “Only I get to do this to you, right? No one else?” he asks, between kisses.

“Yes, baby. Of course.”

“Then say it for me. Please.”

“Only you get to do this to me. Only you.”

He flips you over on your stomach and presses up against you, lips tickling your ear as he demands, “Say it. Say it again.” His cock throbs between your ass cheeks.

“Only you, Aoi. This pussy is only for you. Fuck,” you whimper, desperate to feel him inside you.

“It’s mine, huh? You’re my good girl. You’re my fucking slut. Say it.”

“I’m your good girl, Aoi. I’m your – “, you pause to catch your breath. “I’m your fucking slut.”

He gets off to reach towards the dresser next to the bed. As he does this, you get on your hands and knees, ready for what’s to come (literally). You crane your neck to watch him smear a generous amount of lube along his hard cock, causing you to lick your lips in anticipation. He tosses the bottle onto the floor and positions himself behind you.

You stick your ass out, back arched and ready for him. He slides the tip along the folds of your pussy, guiding himself in slowly. It’s times like these that you are reminded at how fucking huge your boyfriend is, and you love it. Once he’s to the hilt, he stops. “Shake your ass on my cock. You know how I like it.”

With your hands clenched to the sheets, you thrust yourself onto his dick, back and forth, back and forth. After you’re fully adjusted to his size, you pick up the pace, his cock easily sliding in and out with each thrust. “Just like that baby. Fuck. Wish I could take a video of this. You look so good on my cock. Doing such a good job,” he praises, watching you do all the work.

You continue to move yourself relentlessly on him, moaning loudly into the pillow. When you reach your climax, your back arches even more as you orgasm without saying anything. You don’t want him to know you came already as you keep on fucking him. Todo chuckles in his deep voice. You can almost feel the vibrations of his laugh against your throbbing pussy. “I know you came all over my cock, baby. You can’t fool me. You’re so wet. It’s dripping all over the sheets, nasty girl.” He reaches around to rub your clit, his fingers lubed up and wet with your cum.

“Fuck. Aoi. Oh my god, don’t stop. Oh fuck,” you whine.

“You’re so good to me, baby. So good. Taking it like a good girl,” he whispers, massaging your sensitive bud deeper. Your pace slows down, knees weak from your first orgasm. Todo places his free hand on your waist, spreading his fingers wide to grip at your skin. “Let me take over, baby girl.”

You let him, of course. He uses his hold on you to time the thrusts of his hips perfectly. Todo makes you orgasm twice more in this position before he releases himself inside you, filling you up to the brim with his creampie. He pulls out, his load making a mess on his sheets.

After you do your business in the bathroom, the two of you cuddle in bed, blissed out and exhausted. He turns towards you, kissing you on the forehead, apologizing. “I’m sorry.”

You hum, closing your eyes. “For what?”

“Being annoying,” he admits.

“And…?”

“Being jealous.”

“…And?”

He nuzzles his nose against yours. “For being an asshole.”

You smile, peaking at him with one eye open. “I’m sorry for being petty. I’ll work on not using that against you when you’re feeling upset about something.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t that upset. Like anyone can compete with me, right? Especially not Saito.” He makes a face when he says that name.

Still feeling a little naughty, you joke, “You mean Kenji?”

You immediately regret it as soon as he wrestles between the sheets, giggling hysterically as he tickles you to the point of tears.

~~~

It’s been four months since you’ve been dating Aoi Todo. Four months of amazing sex, occasional bickering reminiscent of the origins of your relationship, and new discoveries about each other that bring you closer than ever.

Now, you stand beside your boyfriend, waiting in line at the mall you first met at. Today, Takada-Chan is hosting a special Winter Wonderland event. Essentially, instead of taking a picture on Santa’s lap, Takada-Chan fans get to take a picture next to the pop idol in front of a snowy backdrop. After touring internationally the last few months, the singer planned an impromptu appearance at the mall of her hometown to celebrate the holiday season.

When it’s finally your turn, Takada-Chan greets you with that beautiful, bright smile. “My favorite couple! I’m so happy you made it! I was hoping to see you today.”

“Takada-Chan! We’re happy to see you, too. It’s been a while. How has the tour been?”

“Tiring. It’s nice to be back home for a little bit. Happy holidays! Oh! Todo, please go follow Haru, he’s going to give you a little something. Think of it as a special gift from me.” She winks. Todo bows deeply and follows Haru behind the set. You can’t help but smile to yourself noticing that your boyfriend is still speechless around the pop idol. Some things never change.

You decide to finally be honest with her. “Takada-Chan. You’ve been so good to us. I have to come clean about something. The first time you met Todo and I, we weren’t actually a couple. We were just faking it because you seemed to like us so much better together. I’m sorry.” You look at her nervously, praying to the pop idol gods that she isn’t too upset for the deception.

To your surprise, she smiles even wider, a twinkle in her eyes. “I know.”

“You know?!”

“I knew you two weren’t a couple. To be honest, I knew it was a bit risky on my end to play matchmaker, but I just couldn’t help myself! Who better to be together than two of my #1 fans?” She gives you another wink as you stare at her, mouth agape.

She continues. “Also, sweet Todo was convinced that I was his future wife. Poor guy doesn’t know I don’t swing that way. So, I wanted to steer him in the right direction to you. And now look. The fruits of my labor! The results are a beautiful harvest of love. You two are just as cute as I thought you’d be.”

Shocked, you stammer, “Takada-Chan…I really don’t know what to say. How can I…how can we repay you?”

She reaches her arms out to squeeze your shoulders. “I don’t need you to repay me! Anything for my fans.” Leaning closer, she whispers, “But tell me this: Who made the first move? You see, Haru and I had a little bet going since the two of your first visited my dressing room. Haru claims he won, since he saw Todo holding your hand at the big group date. I placed my bets on you, of course.”

“Well, actually, I kissed Todo that morning. So, you did win.”

The pop idol jumps up giddily. “You made the first move?! I knew it! That’s my girl! I love a woman who takes initiative! I’m going to pester Haru to give me my money back.”

“Thank you for everything, Takada-Chan. I mean it.”

“I’m happy for the both of you. Can’t wait to see you at my next event. DM me if you ever need anything!” With a hug, the two of you say your goodbyes.

You find an empty bench nearby to sit on while you wait for your boyfriend. Todo reappears from the back with two black t-shirts in hand. As he sits next to you, he unfolds the shirts so you can see the front. It’s a screen-printed photo of you, Todo, and Takada-Chan doing the Taka-tan beam in her dressing room.

“This is awesome! Our own special gift from Takada-Chan! I’ll cherish this forever. My two future wives in one picture,” he grins.

Laughing, you wrap your arms around him, giving him a passionate smooch on the lips. Blushing, he asks, “What was that for?”

“I just really wanted to kiss you.” You gaze into his eyes, smiling before saying, “Because I love you.”

His eyes widen. “What did you say?”

“I love you, Aoi.”

Suddenly, he picks you up and sits you on his lap, beaming. “You love me?”

“Yes. I love you!” You throw your arms around him in a warm embrace.

He buries his face into your neck, muffling, “I love you, too. I love you so much.” He holds your face in between his palms, kissing you square on the lips. “I love you,” he repeats, kissing you all over your cheeks, forehead, and neck. His hands roam down to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Relationships are never perfect. People are never perfect. But this moment right now is perfect. Confessing your love feels natural. It makes sense. To think that this whole thing started off as a ridiculous rivalry and blossomed into a “beautiful harvest of love”, as a certain pop idol would say. It just proves that sometimes, finding love can start off silly and ridiculous. And with Takada-Chan playing matchmaking for you and Todo, you couldn’t write a better love story than this.

#aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi x you #todo aoi #todo aoi smut #todo smut #todo x reader #todo x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #idol fan wars

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kotton-kandy953 · 16 days ago

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❏ 𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐕𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 !

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 love interest ꒱ . . . yandere ! xiao ! high school ! au x fem ! reader

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 format ꒱ . . . headcannons

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 warnings ꒱ . . . stalking, yandere themes

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 authors note ꒱ . . . dear lord have mercy, xiao is hot. I just want to eat him || teyvat high school simulator homepage!

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 word count ꒱ . . . 0.5k

Xiao would wear his uniform very nicely will almost always be seen without a uniform jacket on. No matter how cold it is outside.

He’s very athletic and good at most sports, he just doesn’t care enough to play competitively or for any team.

He’s a straight A student, but if someone were to ask him for help on a certain subject, he’s not the best tutor. Although, if you ever called on him for help he would gladly assist you. It may just be blatant favoritism, but he doesn’t seem to mind helping you out.

Due to his lack of social skills, if Xiao has a crush on you, he wouldn’t know how to deal with it. Resulting in him following you around (without your knowledge) like a lost puppy — all the time. At this point, it has to be classified as borderline stalking.

Speaking of you, Xiao tends to get a bit… jealous when he notices you spending a bit too much time with another student. Even if you two aren’t in an established relationship yet. Like, jealous to the point were the thought of harming them invades his mind. Of course, he quickly dismisses the thought. But maybe I a little warning wouldn’t hurt, at least not too much.

He plays the clarinet in band solely because it’s a wood wind instrument. He loves being in band, but doesn’t prefer all of the attention he gets while performing on stage. (at least you get to see him in a suit)

Not only is he in band, but art as well (along with Kinich). His favorite thing to do in there would have to be sketching.

His favorite subjects are art and English (do they even take English? Idk).

He WILL cover his notes/desk with doodles of the most random things in certain classes rather than listening to the lesson. (he’s so me) He’s gotten in trouble for this multiple times but it doesn’t stop him.

He’s also gotten in trouble for drawing fake tattoos on the back of his palms/arms.

On the topic of art and drawing, he will claim that’s he’s not good at it, but anyone who’s around him will beg to differ.

I feel like if you ever were to compliment him on any of his talents, he’d probably just stare at you wide-eyed for a few seconds then immediately change the subject like nothing ever happened.

The introverted kid that always prefers to sit in the back of the class.

Due to his secluded and pretty cold personality, other students either fear or find him interesting. He, himself, has not even come to understand the latter.

That is, believe it or not, the number one reason why he struggles to make friends. It’s hard to believe that he doesn’t hate everyone, which (isn’t entirely false) makes him all the more unapproachable.

He’s probably one of the last student’s picked for group projects if he doesn’t already have a friend in that class.

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magicshopaholic · 4 days ago

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She's in the Rain (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: Jungkook decides to get something off his chest.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC, Taehyung x OC, minor Namjoon x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Angst (friends, crushes, unrequited love)

Word count: 10.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: alcohol, language

A/N: Another in the unedited fic series! Takes place over a couple of months, starting a little over two months after A Stormy Night.

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @margopinkerton, @faearchives, @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @kflixnet, @sumzysworld @jihopesjoint @cuntessaiii (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: "shut up and kiss me" by echosmith

jungkook masterlist | taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

Nose buried in his pillow, Jungkook inhales deeply and stirs. His eyes are still closed; if he tries, he can toe the line between subconscious and reality and give in to his desires for a moment. Only if he tries, though. Otherwise, he can stay where he is and not start his day on a negative note.

He snakes his arm across the bed hesitantly, noting the strips of lukewarm sunlight escaping through the curtains, until his fingers skim skin. Jungkook frowns for a moment, then lets his mind relax.

Dream, he permits himself silently. And dream he does, of olive skin and long, sweet-smelling hair, of toned arms and slept-in sheets. He’s not fully awake yet, he acknowledges, but it’s a good enough start to the day, the kind of morning that warrants lazy morning sex and coffee straight out of the shower. He turns onto his back and, without warning, the sun hits his face bright and hot, making him flinch and curl back onto his side.

Keep dreaming, he urges, but the damage is done. He’s awake; with that realisation, he opens his eyes slowly and takes in the view of a bare back with a single bra strap along the shoulders. She has a tattoo on the nape of her neck; it’s one of the sexiest things Jungkook has ever seen, usually half-hidden behind short strands of hair.

He sighs. It’s morning and he’s no longer dreaming. Sitting up and blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Jungkook retrieves his boxers from the floor and slips them on before climbing out of bed. He’s pulling on his jeans when Hana turns around sleepily and opens her eyes.

“Morning,” she says, voice thick with sleep. Sitting up and resting her palms on the bed behind her, she lets the covers fall from her chest, revealing skinny and tattooed arms, and takes a deep breath. The corner of her mouth curves upwards as her eyes fall to his naked torso. “Up for a quickie? Before we face the real world?” she asks dryly.

Jungkook half-chuckles, but shakes his head. “I, uh… I have to be somewhere,” he says, shrugging apologetically. Hana nods in a no-hard-feelings sort of way and runs a hand through her short hair, the dirty blond bangs falling to frame her face perfectly. “I’ll…” He trails off, biting his lip. “I’ll text you,” he says eventually.

He reaches over to get her a casual peck on the lips, and grabs his t-shirt and jacket from the floor. “Bye,” he mutters, noting her small wave before she falls back on the bed and picks up her phone from her bedside table. As Jungkook is about to leave, hair tousled after slipping on his t-shirt, he pauses and wonders if he should say something else. But this morning feels like most mornings, down to Hana checking her phone as he leaves, scrolling through it with a small frown.

Once, when Yoongi had roped him into recording a demo for another group and the conversation had drifted into a series of unimportant topics, the older member had abruptly remarked, dryly, that Jungkook was “lucky-adjacent” when it came to love. Aside from the fact that it was extremely unlikely for Yoongi to comment on anyone’s love life unprompted, Jungkook could also make neither head nor tail of this assessment.

He wonders if this is what Yoongi meant. He waits for a moment to feel something - stung, perhaps, that Hana isn’t walking him to the door, or maybe annoyed or tranquil or hopeful or something. Anything that might describe “lucky-adjacent”.

But it’s par for the course, this farewell. He and Hana like each other and enjoy each other’s company. She inks people for a living and smokes like a chimney. She loves soju shots and can mimic every character from Spongebob. They clash over music tastes but always amicably take turns listening to pop and rock in the car.

But they aren’t in love. Jungkook doesn’t think he knows what that is, not really. But this is not it.

—

Seoul in the winter can be gloomy and depressing, or romantic and cosy. The answer, as per Seokjin, lies in what one is wearing on their feet.

In woollen socks and thick combat boots, Jungkook supposes he should be comfortable enough that it’s the latter, especially since he’s sitting inside a car with the heater on. But it’s still gloomy - or it’s at least just white. The snow and sleet has covered every surface, but normally, the city still has colour, be it fancy winter coats or bright signs over shops lining the streets, or the camellias.

The camellias. Jungkook shakes his head as he stares out the window, for that’s what’s been missing this whole winter. One of the only flowers that blooms in this frigid season, mostly in certain coveted locations in Jeju, they’re usually still visible in Seoul. Picturesque, hidden spots, scattered across the city and sometimes distinguishable only against the grey and white of the landscape, the camellias are a winter staple, very literally the bright spots of the winters.

Jungkook hasn’t seen a single camellia all winter and now that they’ve entered February, it feels almost as though the winter is simply dragging on endlessly, waiting for the sign to bloom that will signal the peak of winter and lead them through to the spring.

He’d asked around, too, if it was just him, if he’d somehow been unintentionally avoiding all the camellias in Seoul in some strange, dystopian coincidence. But one of the stylists had partly agreed with him and said that while the camellias were just blooming in much, much smaller numbers in the city, one just had to know where to look for them. She said the news claimed the shortage was a sign of global warming, but that she didn’t believe in such rubbish conspiracy theories, attributing it instead to a much more reasonable claim of strategic soil poisoning.

It didn’t serve to make Jungkook feel much better. He missed the camellias, he missed the winters of his youth and he missed the days when his older friends had the answers to everything because whatever he was going through, it was a safe bet that at least one of them was going through it as well.

Not this time, though. He doesn’t know if it’s the solo ventures - although it makes sense that that could be it. His own album has been pushed all the way to the end of the year to make room for all the music the older members need to put out before they’re shipped off to the military; as a result, even studio and rehearsal time is no longer shared among them. Instead, Yoongi is holed up in his Genius Lab in hours of secretive recording sessions with that chaebol producer he won't talk about, Namjoon is churning out collaborations with artists from every possible genre, Jimin is rehearsing for hours on end, and Hoseok is currently in America, ready to take on the biggest stage any of them have ever stepped on alone.

He's still musing over his admiration for Hoseok when he reaches the dorm, combined with a resentment at how easily they all seem to be going at it themselves, a resentment he can't ever voice because of how childish it feels. He rummages in his pockets for the key, but discovering it empty, sighs and rings the doorbell. There are voices inside, everyone gathered to watch the Lollapalooza stream that's already live about an hour away from Hoseok's stage.

The door swings open and Jungkook looks up from his phone, his heart suddenly leaping into his throat with a jolt.

“Miss me?” Dilara grins and ushers him into the hallway and out of the cold. Her long black hair curls loosely down her shoulders and chest, over a Red Bull sweatshirt and jeans, her feet covered in regular sports socks. Jungkook swallows as he meets her eyes again; all his energy is going into bringing his heart rate back to normal, meaning that none of it is helping him stop smiling.

“Fuck, you… you have no idea. How - how are you - what -”

Dilara raises her eyebrows and purses her lips sheepishly, and Jungkook realised he's spoken in Korean. He shakes his head, the blood rushing to his face in embarrassment and relief, but she doesn't seem to realise.

“It's my last week before the entire F1 season descends upon me,” she states dramatically, rolling her eyes. “The launch is next Saturday, then practice, then… Melbourne.” She exhales deeply. “I can't wait but I want to make the best of my last chance to have an actual life this year, so…” She gestures to herself, presumably her presence here in the large, empty entrance way of the dorm.

“Wow - uh, it's great to - to see you,” he stutters, in English this time, his heart still racing. It doesn't help when she reaches up to hug him, squeezing his large shoulders. He hugs her back, the smile on his face feeling stupid but of less consequence since she can't see it right now. She's warm and her hair is soft; he tries his hardest not to give the slightest indication that he’s smelling it because he can't help it. Berries and processed conditioner… his heart jolts and beats so loud that he can barely hear what she's saying.

“Jungkook! I thought I heard you!”

Jungkook's head snaps up. He'd almost forgotten that they're in an apartment with at least half a dozen more people, until the oldest of them all waves at him from the top of the stairs. He slowly lets go of Dilara, following her as she skips up the stairs, the leaping in his stomach slowing down to a more, slightly painful, churn.

Seokjin doesn't seem to notice, however. Giving him only a raise of the eyebrows, the older member leads him into the apartment.

Everyone is gathered on the first floor in the biggest TV room in the apartment, complete with its own open kitchen with various take-out boxes spread across the kitchen island. The television is on extremely low volume, however; in the wait for Hoseok's performance, people are spread out across the room in smaller groups, in conversations of their own.

Some are on the adjoining terrace; the sun is at the exact angle where it's bathing the terrace in some rare light and warmth. As Yoongi pours him a beer, Jungkook looks over his shoulder at the patio. Kaya Madaan is in one corner on the phone, while Sooah and Hoseok's friend Chaeyoung are chatting by another corner, each holding a differently coloured drink in their hands and tilting their heads towards the sun as they talk. Further away, near the centre of the area and right on the fake grass, are Dilara and Taehyung, talking and laughing together.

As he watches, he sees her move to kneel behind Taehyung and wrap her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek to his as he laughingly says something. She runs a hand through his hair, longer than it has been in a while, and Taehyung jokingly flicks her hand away. Dilara likes long hair on men; Jungkook knows this, because she'd complimented his hair half a year ago while they were on tour, coincidentally the day before his stylist had trimmed it. He’d argued with the stylist over it, he remembers, until Namjoon had asked him point blank why his longer hair was suddenly so important to him.

You're a terrible liar, Jungkook, Namjoon had said, in his parental, leader-like tone. So why don't you tell me what the problem is and we can figure out a solution.

But there was no solution to this, least of all because Jungkook couldn't even put the problem into words. The last thing he'd wanted to do was try to think out loud in front of Namjoon of all people, the one person on earth he didn't think he could lie to. His earnest, approachable face would be too comforting to resist and there was no telling what Jungkook might end up confessing to him.

So he got his hair cut. But it's long again now, just like all the other members enjoying their usual post-tour freedom. Yoongi's is long, too, and so is Namjoon's and Jimin's. But Taehyung's is long, thick and has Dilara's slender fingers running through it; as Jungkook continues staring at them, he sees Taehyung pretending to be annoyed again but each time moving back in position so she can keep stroking his hair.

Part of him wants to look away, but another part of him, the part that surfaces during the hours he waits for sleep to come to him, is frozen in place. It’s not difficult, in those wee hours, to relive what he’s memorised about her face, her voice, her hands, her presence and proximity, and easily replace with himself the one prominent feature in the memory that causes him the most guilt, but also gives him the most pleasure.

“He’s being announced!” Seokjin calls twice, one in Korean and once in English, allowing everyone to troop in from various corners of the floor to settle in front of the television. Jungkook finds himself on the edge of the sofa when Dilara walks in from outside with Kaya next to her.

“So how’s it going, JK?” she asks amiably, placing her knee on the sofa before twisting around to sit cross-legged next to him. Her curls brush his shoulders as she shifts so Kaya and Namjoon can sit beside her. She turns to him then and claps his shoulder in a friendly manner.

“Nothing much,” he mumbles, downing the last of his beer and placing the glass on the side table next to him. “Just work. What about you?”

“Kind of the same.” She shrugs. “Practice season starts next week so I’m mentally preparing for that.” She gives him a knowing look before raising her hand and running it through his long locks without warning. “I swear to God, you guys should never cut your hair,” she declares with an envious sigh.

Jungkook’s heart zooms at the contact, stuttering momentarily when Taehyung appears. Oblivious to the chaos in Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung sits on the floor by Dilara’s now outstretched legs, munching on a cookie and bringing her legs over his shoulders and absently squeezing her shin.

This casual, affectionate gesture clenches Jungkook’s heart a little; he looks away and stares hard at the television, barely able to focus on the announcer shouting J-Hope’s name. Everyone’s clapping and hooting for him in the room - including Chaeyoung, who Jimin had specifically told Sooah to bring along - and Jungkook tries to join in, thrilled for the Hoseok, but he isn’t able to concentrate. The indents of Dilara’s fingers in his hair still feel warm, her leg next to his is like fire, and even from the corner of his eye, he notices her playing with the ends of Taehyung’s hair.

“Think Hobi needs a haircut?” Namjoon says dryly, voice low so it’s just a few of them who can hear him. Kaya and Taehyung chuckle, but predictably, Dilara rises to his defense.

“What are you talking about?” she argues, shaking her head at the screen. “The long hair looks amazing on him. You’re really telling me this isn’t Namjoon’s favourite hair on him?” she asks Kaya, giving Namjoon a pointed look when he raises his eyebrows.

Kaya shrugs and tilts her head at her boyfriend. “I don’t mind it… but I actually prefer it a bit shorter than this.” She fingers one of his bangs clinically. “Semi-long.”

“Semi-long,” he repeats.

“Yeah. Like when we first met.”

Namjoon tries to suppress a smile and throws an arm over his girlfriend’s shoulder, while Dilara nods. “That’s fair,” she agrees. Then, while continuing to run her fingers through Taehyung’s fair, she murmurs under her breath, “It’s just so convenient during sex.”

Kaya leans over. “Why do you think I said semi-long?” she whispers.

They snicker together and when Taehyung smirks from the floor, presumably having heard it, Dilara tugs a little harder at his hair, while Jungkook stomach twists. He wishes he hadn’t heard that, that he didn’t have one more throwaway piece of information to insert in his fantasies.

But he knows the damage is done; even as he sits next to his best friends and the girl that’s stubbornly situated herself in every aspect of his core, his mind starts wandering down a dangerous but familiar path, filled with smooth collarbones, throaty sighs and slender fingers tugging at his hair.

He looks around in a slight panic, searching for something to distract him before his body betrays him and he gives himself a visible erection. There’s the television, the booze, and the rest of the group singing along with Hoseok on the screen. There’s a burst of cheers and hooting when they spot Jimin on the screen as well, up in the wings where he’s accompanied Hoseok on the first of any of their solo concerts; Sooah takes a video of it, while Dilara dials his number to see if he’ll pick up.

No, not her. Jungkook’s eyes dart around the expanse of the room before he spots something on the dining table he hadn’t seen before.

“What are those?” he asks Dilara, forgetting his current predicament for a moment and pointing to the flowers in the glass vase, droplets of water aesthetically sparkling on the petals.

Dilara turns and smiles. “Tae got those for me, when we met here this morning,” she tells him, clearly trying to sound nonchalant about it but failing. “I put them in a vase until I can take them home tonight.” She sits back and her smile widens a bit. “They’re camellias.”

—

Hoseok’s stage ends up being a huge success. After the concert, everyone takes turns talking to him and tweeting about it. Jimin and Hoseok do a livestream from Chicago and a few hours later, Namjoon and Yoongi have one scheduled as well.

Almost everyone stays back at the apartment through the evening, the outdoors too cold and uninviting in comparison. Yoongi and Chaeyoung volunteer to put the food away and clean the kitchen, while Jungkook joins Sooah and Seokjin in front of the television while they watch a reality show.

At the dining table, Namjoon and Kaya sit with their chairs tilted towards each other; Kaya seems to be explaining something seriously to him, a pen in her hand and a notepad in between them where she occasionally scribbles something, while Namjoon listens intently. She seems to be teaching him something, almost; occasionally, Jungkook picks up words like “shares” and “stake” and automatically steers clear of them, knowing it’s unlikely he will find the conversation interesting.

He doesn’t need to look around to find the remaining two people in the dorm. Last he’d seen, Dilara and Taehyung were in the balcony again, this time braving the cold by the edge which overlooked the rest of Hannam Hill. Dilara was holding a glass of red wine while Taehyung stood behind her, arms wrapped around her shoulders and cheek resting against the side of her head. Their mouths moved with silent words and intimate conversation, interspersed with shy smiles and soft kisses.

Jungkook sits on the recliner this time, the spot strategically chosen so that even if he tries, he can’t see them; he’s afraid if he does, he might either cry or punch a wall, and neither of those are actions he thinks he can explain. Hana has messaged him already, informing him about a party in Gangnam that she’s going to if he would like to join. It sounds appealing for a moment, for Hana does have a way of distracting him, but he knows he won’t go right now. Dilara is here; she may be cuddling with her boyfriend, but she’s here, in person, and it could be weeks before Jungkook sees her again. Sighing, he gets up to go to the kitchen, now completely sober, hoping to distract himself with a post-dinner cup of ramen.

“Don’t dirty the counter again,” warns Yoongi as he and Chaeyoung pass Jungkook on his way in, leaving behind them a sparkling kitchen.

Nodding wordlessly, Jungkook begins exploring the pantry in the corner, when he hears footsteps behind him. He turns and his breathing stutters without warning.

“Hey,” he manages, straightening up when Dilara steps in. She halts just a few steps in and faces him, a business-like expression on her face.

“Kiss me,” she states.

Jungkook’s heart stops. “W-what?” He looks around the desolate kitchen as though hoping for someone to jump out from behind the microwave and reveal some kind of cruel joke. “What are you -”

“No, wait,” she interrupts him. “Shut up… and kiss me.”

She begins walking towards him and there’s a moment, in between the shock and absolute bewilderment, that he feels his arms going up slightly. Her face begins to break out into a smile.

“Echosmith!” she exclaims, and stops. His absolute confusion must show on his face, for she clicks her tongue impatiently. “The song you sent me a clip of last weekend - remember? You heard it at some restaurant or something and I told you I knew it but I just couldn’t place it? It’s Shut Up and Kiss Me by Echosmith!” She sighs happily. “Thank God. It’s been driving me crazy for days.”

Jungkook nods wordlessly and bustles around, opening the fridge so the door stands between them. There’s a stinging in the corner of his eyes; this is embarrassment he can’t even run away from. Just the fact that he thought it, considered it, for the shortest of seconds… He makes sure his face is calm and devoid of his near faux pas before picking up two bottles of water and closing the fridge.

His phone pings again and he checks it to see another message from Hana: It’s a rager! There’s a picture attached and it does look eventful, but… He looks up at Dilara, waiting for a water bottle, and shakes his head. Dilara is here.

“Thanks,” she says, taking the bottle he offers and leaning back against the opposite side of the counter. “So, yeah. That’s our win. First win of the year,” she offers, pretending to spray champagne from the water bottle.

Despite himself, Jungkook chuckles. It’s hard not to around her. In fact, he’s starting to realise that literally anything Dilara says makes him smile or laugh, regardless of how funny it actually is. He doesn’t even know that it’s about humour anymore; no, it’s just her.

“So, JK,” she begins again, twisting the cap on her bottle and placing it next to her. “When do I get to meet your new lady friend?”

Jungkook chokes. “Oh, uh… you know, it’s really not that serious,” he ventures. “So…”

She raises her eyebrows. “How not-serious is it?” When Jungkook shrugs noncommittally, she presses. “How do you not know how serious you are with your girlfriend?

“Well, for starters, she’s not my girlfriend. Not exactly,” he amends uncertainly. Once upon a time, she would’ve been the female point of view he would’ve craved for this topic. Now, he doesn’t know why, but he feels uncomfortable talking to her about it in too much detail. “We’re just having fun,” he finishes.

Dilara observes him for a second. “That’s fair,” she says, nodding. “You’re in the throes of your youth. Us older and aging individuals -“ She gives him an exaggerated look, one he returns with a roll of the eyes but, once again, he can’t help but smile at her, “- we are boring and committed, so you have to live the single life for us.”

“Oh, really? Are you bored and committed?”

“Terribly.” But she grins and his heart sings for a moment. “I was never particularly good at the casual dating thing, if I’m being honest. I’m made to be in a relationship. I’ve been told I have girlfriend vibes,” she informs him, laughing.

Jungkook laughs with her, but his mind instantly goes into overdrive, creating a montage-like scenario where he and Dilara walk hand in hand down the streets of Seoul, go on midnight drives and make out on the bonnet of his car, sit in the grass while she runs her hands through his hair, stand closely on the balcony as she holds a glass of wine…

“I don’t see it,” he says abruptly, not even entirely sure what he’s disagreeing with. But he needs to stop his brain from betraying him like this, betraying Taehyung.

“Hey, they’re just vibes. In fact, a lot of posts on social media have argued that you have boyfriend vibes,” she informs him smugly. “Especially after your Calvin Klein spread last month.”

“You - you saw that?” he asks nonchalantly, but his stomach skips. “What did you think?”

“I mean, I bought like three pairs of jeans from the website that evening, so that should tell you how well it worked,” she says, turning around to reach for a container to her side and opening it curiously. “And Lexie’s exact words at your physique were, wow, this kid is hot.” She grins at him, popping an almond into her mouth.

“But what did you think?” he presses, feeling a burst of elation at the fact that she’d been looking at pictures of his abs. Every minute spent in the gym feels gloriously worth it and his mind once again jumps the gun, going through excuses he can invent tonight to take off his shirt and watch, uncaringly, as Dilara’s jaw drops at his abs - no, his physique…

“Oh, yeah, you looked fantastic,” she says through a mouthful of almonds, nodding, making his stomach explode. “And the jeans fit really well, too,” she adds, raising her sweatshirt and twisting her hips slightly to show him. “Oh, and so do the new line of bikini briefs, if you want to give them some feedback,” she jokes.

“Right,” he says shakily, turning around and opening the fridge again, just so he can look like he has something to do while he forces the image of her underwear out of his mind.

There are a few moments of silence before Dilara speaks again. “Hey, JK?”

“Mhm?”

“Is everything okay? Between you and me?”

Jungkook freezes. He clears his throat and closes the fridge, but doesn’t turn around immediately. “Why - why would you ask that?”

Dilara waits for him to face her, her eyebrows raised. “You’ve been acting weird,” she states, “and I think I might know why.”

You don’t know the half of it, baby. “Oh, yeah?” he asks quietly.

“It’s obvious.” She gives him a knowing look. “And… it’s okay. I mean, it’s embarrassing for sure, knowing that you caught me naked on Taehyung’s laptop while we were… you know,” she explains weakly, wincing. “But it was an accident, mate. So you can stop being weird about it.”

Jungkook swallows. “Oh. Right.” He doesn’t know what to say beyond that, not least because that night brings up things he’d rather not remember.

Dilara, evidently, seems to be expecting a further response. “I mean, it could’ve been a lot worse,” she says quickly. “You could’ve walked in on me in person. You could’ve walked in on us right in the middle of -”

“Oh, God!” he exclaims, slapping his palms over his ears even though that does him no good.

“Sorry, sorry!” she cries, half-laughing. “That’s gross. Just… don’t be weird about it. It’s all cool.”

Lost for words, Jungkook almost sobs with relief when they’re interrupted. He looks around to see Kaya and Namjoon enter, and he takes the opportunity to check his phone again to see two more messages from Hana, including a flirty come-on. But Dilara is here, his mind, heart and body chorus at once.

But it dwindles momentarily when Taehyung enters as well. There’s a moment, a horrible moment, when Jungkook wants to push him - a hard shove into the wall because he’s just so angry because of how unfair this all is - which is then immediately followed by guilt at such a terrible thought about his best friend.

“What?”

“What?” Jungkook blinks. “What what?”

Taehyung frowns as he leans across Dilara to pick up another similar container. “You were looking at me weirdly.”

“What? No.” His heart hammers uncomfortably and stings when she absently leans against Taehyung’s side. He pokes his tongue into his cheek; Dilara is certainly here, but he’s not sure he can be right now. She’ll be here for a few days, he tries to reason with himself. Maybe he can message her to game some night, or hang out at a time when Taehyung isn’t there - not that he wants to hang out with Dilara without Taehyung specifically, but maybe that’s when he himself would coincidentally be free, too…

“I’m… gonna head out,” he says weakly, not waiting for anyone to respond. He shuffles out of the kitchen before any of them can stop him… although there’s a little part of him, a boyish part, that hopes someone will. He ambles along, saying goodbye to everyone else before he has no choice but to head to the stairs.

“JK!”

Hardly daring to believe it, his heart exploding with relief, Jungkook turns in slow motion to see Dilara jogging up to him with soft, socked feet. “Yes,” he says breathlessly. Could this be it? Could this be the moment she realised that she wants him to stay, too, that there’s a part of her that could feel for him the way he feels for -

“Is this your charger?” She holds up a black adapter. “It’s the one with multiple ports - isn’t it yours?”

He stares at her, not sure he’s capable of words or movement right now. She’s perfect; it’s hard to believe that there was a time when she was single (in the technical sense) or estranged from Taehyung, when he didn’t see it, when they were just friends and being around her wasn’t this simultaneously exhilarating and painful. There has never been anyone or anything less attainable; but just like every other time he’s thought this thought, it only serves to make her even more worth it in his mind.

Unattainable. The word stays in his mind all night, including the car ride to the club, during the dancing and smoking up with Hana and her friends, through the resigned relief at being able to have fun and joke around with other people and focus on Hana once more, her skinny body (not toned), her short and straight hair (not long and curly) and her cigarette-tasting tongue (something minty, he imagines).

But despite that, despite Hana being able to pull him out of it for a few hours and be a fun, hot, spunky, Korean-speaking presence in his life with no hint of an English accent, when it’s dark and the rest of the city is asleep, Jungkook finds himself painfully awake and alone. Hana sleeps peacefully beside him, after scrolling through her phone while he scrolled through his, when the word surfaces again: unattainable.

Dilara is unattainable for several reasons, not the least of which is the fact that she’s in a committed relationship with his best friend, who would probably feel thoroughly betrayed if he knew what went on in Jungkook’s mind. The word has a finality to it - but, Jungkook remembers a little defiantly, that’s what they said about debuting. That’s what they said about sold-out concerts, about owning a home in Hannam-dong, about all these things that sounded impossible but Jungkook accomplished anyway.

No, he thinks warily, for this is where he’s going down a dangerous route. For the first time, he wishes he could talk to someone about this. He glances to his side; ironically, Hana might be a good candidate. Jungkook isn’t certain, but he’s suspected for a while now that there is another man in her life, or at least on her mind. The prospect affects him less than he would’ve thought - if anything, it makes him like her more because he’s no longer the only person in this room who’s thinking about someone they can’t have.

—

Jungkook’s theory about Hana seems to solidify more in the coming weeks, but at no point does he ask her about it, or even allude to it. There are moments, once in a while, where a spark of jealousy takes him by surprise but then transforms into consideration and a grudging understanding, especially when he catches himself replaying gym sessions with a sweaty Dilara in a sports bra lying down the bench press.

But it turns out, Hana’s situation isn’t quite the same as his own. Jungkook, as usual, can’t be sure but when Hana tells him one morning, apologetically, that they should probably take a break, it’s more or less confirmed for him. It’s not so much that she wants to take a break; it’s the fact that she looks as though she’s happy about it, that she’s keeping up a sombre facade for him but underneath the surface, visibly, she’s excited.

There was a time, shortly after their first world tour, that one of the producers that Jungkook looked up to immensely had claimed how valuable the activity of fishing was to her mental health. In response, Jungkook had determined to emulate that exact attitude, purchasing fishing equipment and harassing Seokjin until the older member agreed to take him on a fishing trip. It was frustrating not catching anything - he felt inadequate, like he wouldn’t be able to live up to the role model producer he’d been working with.

He’d done everything, including going on more trips, watching YouTube videos and Googling fishing tips and tricks, but not only did these not help him much in the way of fishing, his mental health did not seem at all tied to this activity in any way, shape or form. The day he’d given up was the day everything changed; instead of the disappointment he’d expected, it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders the moment he’d realised that was trying pointlessly to succeed in something he had very little interest or passion in.

It’s a similar feeling he has when parting from Hana; non-confrontational as he is, he doesn’t argue with her. He lets her go, dealing with a combination of resentment, annoyance and resignation, for at no point had he considered that he and Hana might be anything longer than a fling. But his mood stays sour for the rest of the morning, all through a meeting at Hybe during which he doesn’t utter a single word, and after when he goes to the dorm to pick up a few things.

Dilara is in Seoul again; his heart leaps weakly when he hears her voice from his room, where he’s searching for some clothes he’d left here. He wonders if he can leave without her knowing he’s here but the thought sounds unconvincing even to him. He heads to the living room and dumps his bag on the couch, hoping to at least raid the kitchen and pick up something for the road.

He’s air frying a homemade wrap with leftover pork and cabbage when she enters the kitchen. Her mild perfume - soap, shampoo, whatever it is - wafts up to him before he turns and his eyes close momentarily before he turns to her.

“Hey,” she says cheerfully, bumping his hip with hers. “Jimin said you were here. How’s it going?”

“Great,” he says shortly, for there’s nothing else to say.

She frowns briefly, turning around and leaning against the kitchen counter so she’s facing him. Her hair is freshly washed; her wet hair hangs down her back in carefully set curls, a lemony sort of scent emanating from them.

“You don’t sound great,” she points out, snagging a piece of pork left on the plate and folding her arms across her chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just…” He sighs but doesn’t complete his sentence, his eyes on the air fryer. It’s becoming difficult to look her in the eye for too long; there’s a fear in him that his face, already not great at hiding his feelings, will tell her the truth and she’ll figure it out. And everything will be ruined, he thinks despondently.

“Yeah?” she prompts. “Is it work? Or girlfriend trouble?”

"I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says automatically, then pauses. “Definitely don’t anymore,” he adds in a mutter.

“Oh. You broke up with Hana?"

"No, she broke up with me. She got back with her ex."

Dilara’s eyebrows shoot up. "What? Bitch."

"It's - no. I mean, I’m not sure,” he clarifies. “But you know what… I was a rebound. It's fine."

"You knew? You dated a girl you knew was on the rebound?" she asks, sounding confused.

Jungkook doesn't answer. He senses where this is going and worse than the idea is the fact that he has no defense.

"So... okay, this one got back with her guy,” states Dilara slowly. “The one before that was the exchange student who moved back to the US, and the one before her was her friend who was going on an exchange program?" She shakes her head. "I mean, is it a coincidence or are you deliberately going after girls who are unavailable?"

Finally, Jungkook looks up at her. His eyes meet hers and he holds it for a moment before it’s too much, and his gaze flickers back to the air fryer when the timer pings. He takes the wrap out and places it back on the plate, on top of the paper he’d laid out neatly and begins wrapping it.

"It's not my fault that the girls I want are unavailable,” he says quietly.

Dilara frowns, but before she can say anything, Taehyung enters the kitchen. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Hey," she says, not turning away from Jungkook and only tilting her face slightly when Taehyung kisses her on the cheek. He runs his fingers through his hair and shakes it slightly, droplets of water being released.

It occurs to Jungkook suddenly why both of them might have wet hair at the same time, and it feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.

"See ya." Before either of them can respond, Jungkook is out of the kitchen.

He stops right outside at the dining table, out of view but needing to wrap his food securely. It’s not jealousy, he realises angrily - or at least it’s not jealousy over Hana. He recalls her shining eyes this morning when she’d broken up with him over coffee, her repressed excitement and joy. She was happy. She got the chance, the reason to end their fling, while Jungkook was still here, alone while the girl he loved stood inside the kitchen with her boyfriend, talking about him.

"What was that about?" Jungkook hears Taehyung ask.

Dilara’s voice sounds uncertain. "I think that was my fault. I pried a little more than I should have."

"Yeah? What about?"

"His dating life." She pauses, while Jungkook stands still. “I don’t know, I think I said something wrong. I don’t know what about, though.”

Jungkook picks up his bag and returns for the wrap, needing to get out of here. Just before he leaves, though, he hears Taehyung say something that makes his blood run cold.

“I think I might.”

—

Jungkook spends the next couple of weeks either holed up in his house or in the studio. The management hasn’t reached out to him about his new album yet so he drifts around, helping other producers with demos and recording ad libs and shadowing Namjoon for an entire day while he writes his next album. At home, he works out, sleeps and eats, calling only those friends of his that aren’t in his group.

He can’t know. It’s impossible, he thinks one evening, nibbling on his thumbnail and not even noticing when Namjoon enters the patio. It’s late evening and the sky is a brilliant indigo; the Han rumbles peacefully under them, interrupted by a clink when Namjoon sets a whiskey on the glass table in front of him.

“You look like you need it, kid,” says Namjoon, gesturing for him to take it as he sips his own drink and winces slightly.

Usually, Jungkook would make some joke about how the members are finally offering him alcohol instead of policing him for it. It would be a never-ending deluge of You’ll have enough time to do it when you’re growns and Imagine if you get caughts and direct Nos (from Yoongi), while Hoseok sympathised but agreed, Jimin cackled but allowed him a sip, and Taehyung smirked but loyally sneaked him some alcohol later that night anyway.

Jungkook grabs the glass immediately and drinks (he can’t know), stopping only when his sinuses burn and he sputters. “Jesus,” he mutters, coughing a little before straightening up. He looks up to see Namjoon raising his eyebrows at him. “Sorry.” When the older member simply shakes his head, Jungkook continues. “You look like you need it, too… if I’m being honest.”

Namjoon nods but doesn’t elaborate, taking another sip of his whiskey. The dorm is actually empty for once and after a long day at the studio where Namjoon switched furiously between writing and texting, Jungkook suspects that his need for a drink is about more than just work. Jungkook doesn’t typically pry, but a selfish part of him wants to live in someone else’s problems for a minute.

“What’s wrong, hyung? Is it about the Hybe thing?”

Namjoon chuckles, but there’s no amusement there. “You heard about that, huh?”

“The company is lousy with gossip. And the BTS leader selling Hybe stock is… gossip-worthy, to say the least.”

“It really is,” he mutters. “It’s not a big deal, though. I just needed to liquidate some assets and figure some stuff out.”

Namjoon keeps looking at him, as though expecting Jungkook to question him further but Jungkook shrugs. “Okay. Anything else?”

For a moment, Namjoon simply seems surprised. But Jungkook raises his eyebrows and Namjoon sighs.

“Do you remember, last year, when Kaya and I broke up?” His voice is low and tired. “When we got back together, I thought that we were on the same page about… about everything. About the job, the whole safety thing…” He trails off and pours himself another drink. “Turns out that she’s still getting hate on social media. Twitter, to be exact. And she didn’t tell me.”

It isn’t quite what Jungkook was expecting but his stomach twists in that uncomfortable way that it does whenever this sordid aspect of their fame and followers rears its ugly head. “Wow,” he mutters. “How did you find out?”

“I saw it. I came across an actual comment and I thought I’d ignore it but when I talked to her, telling her to be careful… turned out she already knew.” Namjoon sighs. “I don’t want to go down this rabbit hole again. I know they’re just comments and they don’t mean anything, she knows they don’t mean anything…”

“But she didn’t tell you.” Jungkook finishes his sentence for him, clicking his tongue sympathetically.

“No, she didn’t.” He shakes his head. “She didn’t tell me and… while I can’t fully blame her,” he accepts begrudgingly, “I don’t know… I mean, how is it going to be when I leave? I’ll be farther away and she’ll be… she’ll tell me even less.”

Jungkook’s heart sinks, the way it does any time any of the members bring up their impending enlistment. Seokjin’s farewell party is later this month and while Hoseok’s news isn’t public yet, they know he’s preparing to leave in the next couple of months. One by one, they will all be gone by the end of the year.

Afraid his voice will break if he tries to speak now, he pours himself a second glass and gulps down a sip, emerging only when his eyes water from the burn.

“Maybe I’m overthinking it,” muses Namjoon in a murmur, and he partly seems to be talking to himself. “I don’t want to fight with her and I don’t want to tell her what to do. But leaving… enlisting -,” he clarifies, and the word seems to get stuck in his throat for a moment, “- it changes a lot. And I think she knows that but not telling me about stuff like this… I don’t think she sees how important it will be to stay connected when we’re apart for that long.”

He runs a hand through his hair, looking troubled, but Jungkook says nothing, feeling thoroughly inadequate in this situation.

“And it’s not really her fault either, you know?” Namjoon continues, voice low. “She didn’t grow up with this… expectation, like all of us who’ve known our whole lives that the people we love will be gone for months and months, so far away and so distant… she doesn’t see it yet. Or maybe she does and this is her way of… I don’t even know.” He sighs deeply. “I’m rambling.”

He gives Jungkook a hollow half-smile that Jungkook doesn’t return, only pushing the now half-empty bottle of whiskey towards his friend. After they’ve both been poured a new glass and clink them melancholically, Namjoon drinks and bites his lip.

“With the management trying to control every single step of this, constantly bringing it up at every opportunity… God, it’s exhausting. They keep using other idols and actors and people in the public eye who enlisted, talking about their statistics and their popularity and rankings and all that bullshit - it’s like they’ve forgotten that we are people, too. That we have people - families, friends, even fans…”

He sighs again and shakes his head. “I swear to God, Jungkook… I don’t tell you guys this enough, but I don’t know how I’d do any of this without all of you,” he murmurs, glancing around at Jungkook before facing the front again. “There’s no one, I think, other than the remaining six members of this group, who know exactly what this is like for each of us. With the hiatus and the career break and the brand deals and all the fucking pressure from the company… we can’t lose each other. We’re the only reason all of us are still sane, you know?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. His eyes are filled completely, vision blurring, while the rest of his energy is going into clenching his jaw as tight as he can. There’s a sound that interrupts them and Namjoon goes inside the house to pick up his phone that’s charging, leaving Jungkook alone.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have had so much to drink, for the corners of his vision are also swimming - and it’s not from Namjoon’s soliloquy. But it doesn’t matter because his guard is now lowered enough for every unwanted through to come gushing in like a tidal wave, including how much he might be betraying Taehyung, how much he can’t talk to him about this because he can’t know and how, no matter how hard he tries, he cannot help how insanely in love he is with Dilara Komyshan.

Sniffling, he reaches forward and pours himself a small shot of whiskey and downs it in one go. It helps for a few seconds where his mind goes blank, so he pours himself another, and then another. Three shots later, his senses are swimming and his limbs feel lighter than air. His head feels like it could fall off, though, so when Namjoon pokes his head into the balcony and says that he’s called a car to take them both to their respective apartments, Jungkook silently nods and follows him.

“You seem a little off-balance, Jungkook,” remarks Namjoon when they’re climbing into the backseat. “How much did you drink?”

“Not much,” he mutters thickly, bumping his head on the doorframe and swearing under his breath.

“That… seems untrue,” he replies, leaning forward to help Jungkook into the car. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep here tonight?”

But Jungkook shakes his head, feeling his brain turn upside down with the simple movement. “I need to go - go home,” he hiccups.

“Really? But I think you should -”

“Actually,” he interrupts, “can you drop me off at Taehyung’s house? I need to talk to him… about something.”

“Um, yeah. Okay. That’s good, actually,” says Namjoon, nodding. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

The car drives through Seoul while Jungkook rolls down the window, the cool breeze actually clearing his head slightly and making him want to throw up less. His mind keeps repeating a fuzzy mantra of he can’t know he can’t know he can’t know until the car slows down and pulls up in a familiar district in Gangnam, one Jungkook knows like the back of his hand.

“Want me to come upstairs with you?” Namjoon asks but evidently doesn’t wait for Jungkook to answer, instead walking him all the way up to the top floor with the secure penthouses.

“Did you know Nayeon bought an apartment here?” he slurs, but Namjoon ignores him. “Okay, I can go by myself now. His house is - is right there,” he says, pointing at a blurry door.

“Okay.” Namjoon sounds uncertain, but lets go of Jungkook. “Alright, just… take care. Eat something and go to sleep. And don’t do a livestream right now,” he warns.

“Yes, hyung.” Planting a kiss somewhere on Namjoon’s temple, Jungkook takes surprisingly steady steps towards Taehyung’s apartment and presses the buzzer. He turns to see the lift door closed and Namjoon nowhere to be seen, but he knows the leader was right. Namjoon is usually right, he thinks, and nothing right now seems so bad that he can’t tell Taehyung.

Overcome with a sudden emotion for his friend, with the love and guilt and everything that comes with it, Jungkook sniffs and blinks back tears, somewhat wishing he wasn’t so drunk for this conversation. The lock turns from the inside and Jungkook exhales, leaning against the doorframe for support.

When the door opens and for a moment, Jungkook forgets to breathe.

“JK?” Dilara sounds confused, but it can’t be anything compared to what Jungkook is feeling right now. “Hey… uh, what are you doing here?”

There are no words; Jungkook’s brain feels like mush and he’s drunk, so drunk that he feels a terrifying lack of control over himself. “Taheyung,” he blurts out, the word sounding slurred even to his own ears.

Her eyes shutter over slightly. “Oh, Taehyung isn’t here right now. Well, actually, he’s just - oh, God!” Suddenly her arms are around him and it takes Jungkook a moment to realise he lost his balance. “Are you okay? You… look completely smashed.”

Jungkook simply shakes his head; this wasn’t supposed to happen. He needs to talk to Taehyung - and with this unexpected development, it feels all the more urgent. But Dilara is helping him inside now and he’s going along with her, her slender arm around his waist while the other shuts the door behind him.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you two had plans tonight,” she mutters, steering him to sit down on the sofa and tugging his shoes off his feet to chuck them into the corner. “I wasn’t planning to come here this weekend but I just decided this morning… we kind of had a fight last weekend and it just wasn’t the kind that could do with a phone apology, you know?” She doesn’t add anymore, sitting opposite him on the coffee table and placing her hands on her lap. “What the hell happened to you?”

Jungkook doesn’t know where to begin. Dilara is here. All rational thought seems a distant memory and it’s tiring to attempt to bring it back. Dilara is taking off his beanie and straightening his hair from underneath it and he can’t stop looking at her.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers.

“What?”

“I - I can’t,” he repeats, slightly louder this time. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head, all the time. You’re in my room, in my studio, in my car, in every single thought. You’re in the damn rain and I… I can’t stop.”

Dilara’s hands are back at her sides. She’s frowning slightly. “Um… I don’t know what you’re - what you’re saying,” she says slowly. “I think you might be -”

“No, I’m not,” he interrupts. Now that the dam has broken, a year’s worth of emotions are now waist-high. His mind swims violently, but her image is clear. “I don’t know how and I didn’t plan it. I don’t know when… but I’m so… so fucking crazy about you. I can’t even think straight.”

She’s still frowning at him. “Okay,” she says finally, standing up. “I think you need to sober up first. I’m going to get you some water. Lots of water,” she amends, turning around and heading to the kitchen.

Jungkook can’t quite work out what just happened. But he follows her, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen to see a tall glass on the kitchen counter, next to which she places half a dozen lemons.

“Mate, you should sit,” she says to him when she catches sight of him. “I’ll get you some lemonade - it always helps. Oh, and food…” She goes through a couple of cabinets before opening a container and pulling out a pack of sliced bread. “This should definitely help,” she mutters, popping a couple of slices into the toaster.

Jungkook stares at her as she begins squeezing the lemons in a lemon press. Is she ignoring everything he just confessed to her? Or is it so unbelievable to her that she thinks he might be rambling because he’s drunk?

“Dilara,” he manages to say, but when she looks up at him, he doesn’t know how to follow it up.

“Don’t try to talk,” she says gently after a few seconds, going back to squeezing lemons and letting drops of juice fall into the glass of water. “Just hydrate and eat and sleep. You can meet Tae in the morning.”

Jungkook swallows. He’d forgotten about Taehyung for a bit, and the guilt clutches at his heart again.

“I fucked up last weekend,” she admits in a low voice. Then she sighs and places the lemon press on the counter. “He came to the race last weekend, to surprise me. And I was happy - I was so happy to see him. But… I don’t know what happened. I went to celebrate with the team after the race and I meant to be back quickly so I could be with him but… God, he waited all night for me. And then he left because he had a flight and…” She shrugs helplessly. “And he doesn’t even seem angry with me. He seems hurt… but not angry. And I fucking wish he’d be angry.”

Jungkook blinks, his mouth moving without intent. “You guys fight a lot,” he says quietly.

Dilara bites her lip as though she hasn’t even heard him. “I don’t know why I did that. I was so happy when I saw him, but… I’m also so angry. I’m angry all the time now and I don’t know what it is, if it’s stress or what.” She takes her fingers through her hair and exhales. “But he was the target, unfortunately. I just partied with the team, knowing he was waiting for me. And I - I don’t want to think I’m taking him for granted because I’m not, but I also don’t know why…” She turns to him finally. “I feel like a really shitty person.”

There was a time when they talked to each other about these things, he remembers vaguely, somewhere in the recesses of his shaky memory. But they didn’t quite hurt like this.

The pop of the toaster makes him flinch but he doesn’t move, watching Dilara hold the slices of toast gingerly from the corner and drop them on a plate.

“Do you think we could’ve been happy?” he asks softly. “If you and he hadn’t got together or if you and I had met first… I think we could’ve been happy. We could go to the gym and we could game all night… we could go anywhere we want and we would’ve been so happy,” he whispers, his voice wobbling.

“Whoa, JK, are you crying?” Dilara finishes spreading a cheese spread over the toast and comes up to him. “Chill. We’ll be fine. But you’re so sweet,” she adds after a moment, reaching up to hug him.

It hurts more than he’d ever thought possible. She doesn’t even want to know. He hugs her back, though, lowering his head into her hair and inhaling, his head heavy and starting to ache now.

He allows Dilara to force the glass into his hand and watch him drink at least a fourth of it before he stumbles his way to the dining table and falls into one of the chairs. The cheesy toast actually smells divine but there’s a good chance he might throw up if he eats too much so after a couple of bites, he abandons the slice and drops his hurting head into his hands.

“Okay, mate, I think you need to head to bed now.”

He opens his eyes with difficulty to see her kneeling in front of him. “I’ll never get over you,” he admits, and even through the extreme intoxication, he can hear the fear in his voice. “I think I’ll feel this way for the rest of my life and you’ll never -” His voice breaks. “How do I get over you?”

But Dilara is already shaking her head. “Jungkook,” she says clearly, as though she hasn’t heard him. “You need to sleep. You’re mumbling and slurring and I can’t understand you. Can we talk tomorrow morning, please?”

Jungkook can’t believe it. She’s ignoring him completely; it’s unfathomable to her - his feelings are unfathomable to her and he feels ridiculous and childish and suddenly certain beyond belief that if shows her how serious her is, she might finally hear him -

“Hey.” She interrupts his thoughts but she isn’t looking at him. “Livestream done?”

Jungkook turns in horror, his heart beating in a blind panic as Taehyung stands at the end of the hallway, hands in the pockets of his trousers. He answers Dilara, but his eyes are on Jungkook.

“Yeah, a few minutes ago.” He nods at him. “Jungkook? I thought I heard your voice.”

He knows. Jungkook is sure of it - he can see it in his eyes, he most definitely heard him beg Dilara to help him get over her, perhaps to their entire conversation since he entered this apartment. He knows and he hates me. Jungkook can feel his breathing become shallow, Dilara’s voice barely audible over the fuzzy static in his mind.

“Yeah, he’s pretty wasted,” says Dilara in a low voice, standing up. “I’m glad you’re here - I’ve been trying to get him to hydrate and eat something but he’s been stumbling a bit and saying a bunch of things -”

No! Jungkook wants to yell but something far worse creeps through his stomach and chest. “Oh, no,” he mumbles, pressing his hand over his mouth.

“Oh, no,” echoes Dilara in horror. “Tae, he’s going to vomit.”

“I got it,” mutters Taehyung, grabbing Jungkook’s arms and walking him to the hallway bathroom, turning on the light and throwing the toilet seat open just in time for Jungkook to fall to his knees and empty the contents of his stomach, including Namjoon’s expensive whiskey. He throws up two more times, hardly able to feel Taehyung’s hand patting his back wryly, while Dilara’s voice appears from far away, the words all muffled.

No, no, she can’t see me like this, he wants to groan, but his throat hurts and he feels like he might cough a lung out if he tries to talk. He lets Taehyung help him up to his feet, the urge to cry overwhelming him for he is a horrible, horrible friend and Taehyung most likely knows it.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” he tries to say but his tongue feels like sand.

“Don’t try to talk,” instructs Taehyung, pushing him gently by the shoulders so his knees buckle and his bum falls on a soft surface. It’s a bed, discovers Jungkook, and he suddenly feels like he could fall on the soft sheets and sleep forever. But Taehyung is shoving something into his face - Jungkook gulps it down and discovers it’s the lemon water.

Some of it dribbles down his chest but Jungkook keeps drinking it, for it’s actually helping now. He looks up, his vision swimming, to see Taehyung hunched before him, his handsome face inches away from his own. Jungkook looks around with a heavy head, but Dilara is nowhere to be seen.

“She’s not here.” Taehyung answers his silent question.

Jungkook tries to focus on his face to see if there’s anything there - anger, betrayal, anything. But Taehyung’s face is as impassive as ever as he takes back the empty glass and lifts Jungkook’s legs onto the bed.

“No, hyung, wait… I’m - I’m sorry -”

“Hang on.” Taehyung disappears for a moment but then returns. “I’m leaving a bin here in case you need to throw up again, okay? Lie on your side, not your back.” He pulls his shoulder until Jungkook is sideways. “You’re going to have a hangover from hell tomorrow,” he mutters, pulling the covers over him and patting him on the shoulder. “For now, just sleep.”

Jungkook can’t take it. He has no idea if Taehyung heard him tonight or if he’s just being himself. Jungkook’s eyes are shutting of their own accord and he can feel the wetness between his eyelids. His head feels like a ton of bricks, but his stomach hurts with liquor and guilt.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” he repeats hoarsely as Taehyung straightens up and stands over him. “I’m so… I’m so sorry, hyung. I’m so sorry…”

His words trail away as sleep comes for him in a rush. He can feel his mind shutting down and his eyes close, and he therefore can’t be sure if it’s a figment of his imagination when Taehyung speaks.

“I know.”

—

Taehyung enters his bedroom slowly, stopping for a moment when he sees Dilara lying across his bed on her stomach, flipping through a magazine. She looks up when he enters and gives him a small smile.

“Everything okay?”

“Put him to sleep,” he answers, making his way over to the bed and lying next to her as she goes back to her magazine. “What was he talking to you about?”

Dilara pauses for a moment before shrugging. “No idea. He was speaking Korean the whole time.”

“Hm.” Taehyung lies on his back and stares at the ceiling for a few seconds before turning onto his side and pulling her close by the waist. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmurs into her shoulder.

She turns to him, frowning slightly. “Really? Even after last weekend?”

He sighs but nods. “Yeah. Even then.”

Her features soften as she turns to her side as well, facing him fully. “I really am sorry. Again.” Her eyes fall from his. “I love you,” she says after a moment. “And I’m happy.”

There seems to be more to that sentence but she says no more. Taehyung kisses her cheek and pulls her into a hug. “I love you, too,” he replies, closing his eyes.

—

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#taehyung x oc #jungkook x oc #jungkook fanfic #taehyung fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #k-vanity #wkcnet #bts v fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst

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