#i have been trying to use I-language here so hard.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
𝑶𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓/𝑴.𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏 & 𝑰.𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒏
The apartment was quiet, bathed in the soft, late-afternoon glow filtering in from the windows. You sat at the edge of the couch, fingers absently tracing the stitching on the cushion. It had been a long week, though the days blurred together in your mind. You hadn't realized how much you'd been retreating into yourself until Ingrid had gently brought it up a few days ago.
The memory of her concerned gaze lingered. Her accent had softened as she tried to coax you out, her dark hair brushing her shoulders as she tilted her head, those warm, understanding eyes never leaving yours. You'd done your best to brush it off, claiming you were just tired, but she'd seen right through you.
As if on cue, the soft padding of footsteps reached you, and soon you felt a presence settling beside you on the couch. Ingrid reached over, her hand warm and reassuring as she took yours in her grasp.
"You're here but... you're not really here," she murmured, her accent lilting gently with the familiar cadence you loved. "You know you can talk to us, right? Anything that bothers you... it bothers us too."
You gave her a small nod, though your gaze was fixed somewhere near your knees. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mapi saunter over. She plopped down on your other side and slung an arm over your shoulders with casual ease, her own energy a contrast to Ingrid's gentle calmness. Mapi's English was still a learning process, but her warmth and sincerity transcended language. She didn't need to speak to tell you she cared.
Between the two of them, you felt the walls you'd been building crumble, piece by piece. You closed your eyes, feeling Ingrid's thumb gently stroke the back of your hand, Mapi's fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of your shirt, her hand just resting against the bare skin of your side. You inhaled, the familiar mix of their perfumes grounding you, and finally spoke.
"I... I just feel like I don't belong," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "Like I'm intruding. You two, you've been together for so long, you understand each other in ways that I can't... And I can't even speak Spanish properly. I just feel like an outsider."
Ingrid shifted beside you, her hand moving to cup your face, gently turning you to look at her. Her eyes were filled with a sadness that you hadn't intended to cause, and it made you feel small. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with worry. "You don't have to go through these things alone."
Mapi let out a little hum, her brows furrowing as she leaned into your side, pressing her forehead against your temple. "Amor," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. "No eres outsider. Eres parte de nosotras, ¿vale?"
You turned to look at her, trying to decipher her words. She caught the uncertainty on your face and gave you a grin. "You," she said, pressing a finger to your chest, "are family. Ingrid, yo... we are family. Tú también."
Ingrid nodded, her gaze softening even further as she watched you. "Mapi's right. You're not intruding, and you're definitely not an outsider." She paused, letting her fingers drift down to your cheek before giving it a soft, affectionate squeeze. "We chose you, love. Both of us. And we don't do things halfway."
The conviction in her voice made you swallow hard. Mapi squeezed you tighter, and you felt her fingers trace small circles against your skin in that absentminded way that always made you feel anchored.
"Is it... is it that bad for you?" Mapi asked, her Spanish slipping in with a heavy accent, each word deliberate. "Being with us?"
"No!" you said quickly, surprised by the intensity of your own response. "No, it's nothing like that. I... I love being with you both. I just... I just don't feel like I'm enough sometimes."
Mapi clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated groan before switching back to Spanish, muttering something that you couldn't catch. Ingrid laughed softly, reaching over to squeeze Mapi's arm.
"She says," Ingrid translated, with a playful smile, "that if you think that, you're more ridiculous than she is."
Mapi looked indignant, her brow furrowing as she playfully swatted at Ingrid, but her expression softened as she looked back at you. "We know what we want," she said, her English stumbling slightly but her meaning clear. "And we want... you."
Your heart stuttered, and you felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You blinked them back quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment with your insecurities. But Ingrid noticed, of course she did. She always did. Her thumb brushed gently under your eye, catching a stray tear as she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
"You don't have to feel like this, amor," she whispered. "We're here. You're not alone in this, okay?"
Nodding, you closed your eyes and leaned into her touch, letting her warmth wash over you. It was only then that you realized how tightly wound you'd been, like a coil that had finally been allowed to release.
"Maybe..." you started hesitantly, and both of them looked at you with patient, expectant eyes. "Maybe I just need a little more time to... feel comfortable. I want to get better at Spanish, to communicate with Mapi more."
Mapi laughed softly, patting your thigh softly before giving it a squeeze. "Ay, amor, don't worry about that. I'll teach you." She shot you a wink, and you couldn't help but smile. "And if not... Ingrid will translate. She's good at that."
Ingrid laughed, rolling her eyes. "Good enough," she agreed, giving Mapi a playful nudge. Then, her gaze softened, and she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you even closer into her embrace. "But really... it doesn't matter how much you speak or don't speak. You're already part of us. The language... it's just an extra layer."
For the first time that week, the weight on your chest felt lighter. You exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into the couch, wrapped up in both of them. They were right, of course. They'd never given you any reason to feel out of place; this had been your own insecurities feeding on the language barriers, the cultural differences. In that moment, with Ingrid's gentle words and Mapi's warm hand on your skin, you realized that maybe... maybe you'd been looking at it all wrong.
"Thank you," you murmured, voice barely audible, but both of them heard you. Mapi reached up to gently cup your face, pulling you in to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering there with an unspoken promise that everything would be alright.
"Always," Ingrid whispered.
**
Tags:
@ceesimz @marysfics @wileys-russo @mead-iocre @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan
#mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader#mapi leon x reader#ingrid engen x reader#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso community#woso appreciation
251 notes
·
View notes
Text
Breathe Babygirl
SYNOPSIS: When you wake up with barely any sleep in horrid pain and start having an attack anxiety, you rush to JJ Maybank who instantly does his best to comfort & help you.
PAIRING: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Stomach illness & anxiety attack.
AUHTOR’S NOTE: I wrote this today to comfort myself tbh but also wrote to comfort anyone else who isn’t feeling well too! Hopefully. 🤍 English was my third language btw.
(Song is optional. Just felt like adding one)
Early morning, the pain was actually hitting you quite hard and panic was steadily rising. It had been a while since you felt this way… the anxiety part. You thought it was gone forever but there it goes again, sneaking up on you like the bitch it is.
Your stomach had felt awful, you weren’t sure what triggered it this time but it ruined your sleep. It had felt like an actual rock was in your stomach, ripping away—it was so sharp and the nausea was at tenfolds.
You gulped and in a very short amount of time, you ran on autopilot looking for one person. Your feet taking you straight out the door despite the crippling pain you felt in your lower stomach, shooting up to the upper abdomen.
Now, you had never done this… so when JJ Maybank, your boyfriend, caught sight of you walking to him while he was out in the garage, surprisingly already awake—his concern and worry skyrocketed. You looked distraught and he had no idea why.
Immediately, he was walking to you and wrapped his arms around you, “Hey baby, what’s wrong? I got you.”
A hug and his voice should have soothed you but it only did a little when you were literally shaking with body tremors now and he felt it, his hold tightening slightly, “Baby?”
You spoke, “I slept like, two hours and I have a horrible sharp pain in my stomach.”
As if on cue, you groaned and continued as he listened, his brows furrowing.
“And I’m so nauseated, Jay. I feel like garbage. I’m tired and it’s making me super anxious… I- I never told you but I used to suffer from bad anxiety attacks… all the time, before we met.”
He knew that you, his girlfriend, had a stomach illness and issues that could make life unbearable at times when flares happened but you always seemed to handle it, despite his protests and arguments. You always masked yourself as okay and it would tick him off endlessly but he tried to control it.
What he didn’t know was that you used to suffer from bad anxiety.
He spoke quietly, his strong arms still wrapped around you trying to will the tremors away, “Why didn’t you tell me?” He almost sounded like he was wearing a frown now for not realizing this but you were so unwell that he couldn’t get mad.
“I thought they were gone for good… it’s been a long time since this happened. To be honest, I’m sort of scared of being ill. It’s not fun having these dumb health issues… but it got so much better, I- I… wasn’t expecting this and-“
Your trembling got worse and your breathing started faltering there. It was always shitty how it would just escalate so fast, the feeling of panic increasing along with the feeling of sickness.
He started rubbing a hand up and down your back, soothingly, “Shh, shh… it’s okay, sweetheart. Focus on me now. I’m right here, deep breaths babygirl.”
You tried but were struggling to focus now and he sensed it, “One, two, three, four, five inhale… one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight exhale… c’mon.”
When you felt the tears startle to prickle and the breathing technique not working, you shuddered out a breath. Pulling away just a tad, “I can’t. I can’t… it’s not helping!”
Then when the pain hit even sharper, you almost kneeled over but he kept holding you up—a noise of discomfort coming out as you clutched your tummy.
“Let’s get inside, get you sat. Can’t stand like this,” He suddenly lifted you up like it was nothing while you made that pained face and felt more shaky than ever.
He was always your strong man and this was the time to use that strength. His heart broke though when he saw that look on your face, “Jesus Christ, baby…” He muttered and quickly walked you indoors to put you on the couch. He kept you on his lap, starting to rub your tummy, trying to ease it all.
His hand kept running circles but that stubborn ache wouldn’t let up.
“Nn…” You let out a small whine and he sighed, feeling a bit panicky himself.
“I’m gon’ go get you some medicine? Alright?” He said and carefully detangled from you, standing up but you spoke.
“No! Um…”
His brow quirked and he almost scoffed, “babygirl, you are starting to lose color, what do you mean ‘no’ to meds?”
“I… really don’t like meds, J. Please… can you just make me some tea? Tea can help sometimes,” you breathed out.
He couldn’t help but give in to the request, letting out a large exhale, “tea… yeah, I’ll get you that. Just stay put, I won’t take long.”
He noticed a sense of anxiety in you at the fact of him being gone for a few minutes, he almost struggled walking to the kitchen to leave you.
You hated yourself for being so clingy and needy at this moment, you normally prided yourself on not being that but alas, you were freaked out and it sucked.
You nodded and he bit his lip, “five minutes, stay here.”
He was hesitating but knew you needed something so he finally urged his feet to move to the kitchen so he can make tea.
After some minutes, he came back with the steaming mug, settling right next to you. One arm slung over your shoulder as you leaned to him in your shaken state and the other holding the mug.
It was ginger tea, for the nausea and discomfort—he hoped it would do the trick.
He carefully handed it but when he saw your tremors at work still, he put his hand over yours holding the mug to steady it.
“Drink,” He said, assuring he’d help you hold it. His hand was as warm as the mug and it felt nice, safe.
Once you finished with the tea, he pulled you closer and moved his free hand to your tummy to rub soothing circles as you fully leaned on him, head burying to his side.
“Tea’s gonna help, baby. Just relax with me now… deep breaths again.”
You nodded, trying to do exactly that.
After about forty minutes of hell slowly fading over, he felt relieved to feel your shaking stop completely.
He lifted your face a bit to take a look at you. He saw how exhausted you seemed, needing sleep. The weary look ok your face made him sad.
“Is the pain gone? Nausea?”
You nodded, “yeah, JJ… it’s gone. Tea helped.” Sighing in relief and so did he, “good, you need sleep babe.”
“I do, two hours was not enough.”
He changed the position, carefully laying himself on the couch and bringing you slowly with him, to lay right on top of him—everything was done with the uttermost affection for his girl.
“Sleep, I’ll stay with you.” He whispered softly, taking his fingers to thread through your soft hair.
You melted at that simple action, it meant everything. You nuzzled your head into his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso and holding on.
You closed your eyes, “thank you, love you.”
He smiled to himself, taking his free arm to wrap around you as he held you close while you two rested.
“I love you too… also, there’s no shame in needing some help and comfort, darlin’. I want you to always get me, ok? No more, doing it all on your own bullshit.”
“Jay…” you mumbled.
“I mean it. I know you can handle your shit most times but I got you anyway, so just listen for once?” His voice was stern and it made you feel something.
You sighed, knowing he was concerned and maybe a little irritated. Not at you per se but with the situation.
“Okay.” You simply replied, feeling more and more relaxed to the way he was gently playing with your hair and holding you with the other arm. He tugged you closer with just that one arm.
“Damn, you’re really not well today if you just agreed with no complaints but fuck, I’m takin’ that babygirl.”
You let out a quiet chuckle, tightening your hold on him.
“Yeah, yeah… no sass today. I know.”
“As much as I love your fire sometimes though, good. Better not sass me with this.” And that made you grin just a little to yourself.
“I’m shuttin’ up now, sleep… shh.” He placed a kiss on top of your head then closed his eyes and you felt yourself slowly drifting off to a peaceful and much needed rest. With your boyfriend and you cuddled up and cozy.
#i am running on 3 hrs of sleep lol so sry if this isn’t amazing.#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#rudy pankow#outer banks#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x fem!reader#jj maybank scenario#jj maybank oneshot#my writing#jj maybank fanfiction#obx#outer banks fanfiction#fanfic
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Azel Radwan: Both Endings Epilogue
Romantic Ending Letter | Dramatic Ending Epilogue
Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the video for this chapter!
"Love" is a curse.
It's the worst curse, one that should never be inflicted.
*flashback*
Emma: It's wrong to call something that hurts Prince Azel "love."
Emma: That's just violence disguised as love.
*flashback over*
(Those words Emma said one day hit the nail on the head about the true nature of love.)
(For me, love might be violence.)
*flashback*
Mother: Living God, please grant us a divine message. Show us the reality that has been promised to us.
Azel: I... don't know—
The Apostle: Everyone here is eagerly awaiting the Living God's divination.
The Apostle: God who loves his people, please have mercy on us.
Azel: ...I...
Mother: Come now, Living God.
The Apostle: Show us our path.
Azel: ...I understand.
-
Enis: Azel, we came to play!
Azel: Kamal-oniichan, Enis-oniichan...!
Enis: Whoa, what's with suddenly clinging to us like that? You're unusually affectionate today.
Azel: Am I... really a god?
Kamal: Ah, I guess the apostle said something to you again? That— geezer. Someday— I'll— I'll—
Enis: Hey, don't use such foul language in front of the child.
Enis: ...Azel, can you tell us what happened?
Azel: Everyone expects all sorts of things from me.
Azel: I want to meet those expectations, but there's so much I don't know.
Azel: Even though I don't know, I have to give them answers.
Azel: I can only give them vague answers, so I'm afraid that someday I'll give a false divine message...
Azel: A real god wouldn't have this problem.
Kamal: Sigh... You're more of an angel than a god, Azel, an angel.
Azel: Whoa, oniichan!
Enis: Kamal, it's dangerous to suddenly pick him up like that.
Kamal: You're being a nag, are you his babysitter or something?
Kamal: Azel, the people around you call you a god, but to Enis and me, you're just our cute little brother.
Kamal: To our troubled little brother, your big brother will give you this as a present.
Azel: Um... "Read This and You Too Can Become a Splendid Swindler ~Beginner Edition~"?
Enis: What kind of book did you give him?!
Kamal: Our angel is too kind, that's why he worries like this.
Kamal: Listen, most of the people who worship you as a god are greedy and only think about themselves.
Kamal: Become a swindler so they can't take advantage of you.
Azel: A swindler?
Kamal: A swindler is a bad person who deceives others and acts only for their own benefit.
Kamal: You're a kind god who only thinks about others, but a swindler doesn't care whether their divinations are right or wrong.
Kamal: Become like that. Enis and I want to protect you... Don't become a god who gets eaten by people.
Azel: Doing bad things... is wrong, but...
Azel: But I understand what you're trying to say, oniichan.
Azel: I'll read this book and study hard.
Kamal: Ah, you're a good boy.
Azel: Thank you, oniichan. I love you.
Kamal: Guh...
Enis: Hey, don't die?! Fainting from a nosebleed is a joke, right?!
-
Soldier: —There he is! It's the Living God! Secure him immediately!
Azel: I'm sorry! I was the one who said I wanted to play outside with my brothers!
Azel: I really didn't want to do any divinations today... I was tired...
Azel: So—...
Soldier: We've apprehended Prince Enis and Prince Kamal as well! Take them straight to prison!
Soldier: Those guilty of taking the god away will face appropriate judgment!
-
Enis: Aagh—!
Kamal: —Ugh...
Azel: Apostle... Please stop...
Azel: Please. I'll do whatever you say.
Azel: It's because I was a bad boy, because I didn't behave...
Azel: I'll never run away again, so please stop.
Azel: Please, please, please, please...
The Apostle: Living God... I'm sorry. It's not that I want to torment you.
The Apostle: This is also love.
The Apostle: To ensure that your noble self makes no mistakes, we must punish you severely like this.
The Apostle: All of this is for your sake. Please understand.
*flashback over*
At that time, I understood all too well.
The meaning of a god loving people, the meaning of people loving a god.
Both being loved and loving are nothing but painful acts.
I can't find any other words to describe this than a curse.
(The discomfort of being loved is still tolerable.)
(But I want to be spared from the curse that arises from my own love.)
Loving is the easiest way to make someone else unhappy.
(That's why... Emma, I don't love you.)
(I don't love you.)
-
Emma: —...Prince Azel?
I open my eyes, and a familiar scene comes into view.
The afterimage of the past vanishes, and the eyes of everyone seated at the table converge on me.
Azel: ...Is everyone here?
Kamal: Emma is here too today, huh?
Basil: May I address her as Lady Emma from now on? After all, she is the only one who has been loved by Prince Azel—
Basil: Ouch!
I throw a nearby game piece at his forehead, putting a stop to the unpleasant conversation for now.
Basil: Ah... even a scolding from Prince Azel is an honor...
Kamal: Sinan, please examine this child's head.
Sinan: Normal.
Kumush: That means there's no saving him, hahaha!
Temel: A little madness in young people helps them get ahead in life.
Kamal: Is that so?
Enis: I'm surprised though. This is my first time here, but...
Enis: I never thought most of Tanzanite's prominent figures were accomplices to a god.
(Thirteen people including Enis... no, fourteen if you include Emma.)
Present here, in addition to the royal family, are the head of the tourism association, the wealthy merchant who manages the market, the doctor with the best medical skills in the country, the owner of the famous restaurant that supports Tanzanite's economy, the competent spy who has deceived countless people, the world-renowned genius scholar, the strongest warrior...
I also gathered other promising individuals who will shape the future and gave them proof of my hope for the coming dawn.
(The god-killing plan I started alone has come this far, huh?)
(...It's been a long time.)
It all started that day when Kamal, who had been subjected to whipping, was exiled, and the light vanished from Enis's eyes—
Unable to bear the ugliness of the love the apostle spoke of, I vowed to destroy faith.
But sane words don't reach fanatics who think they can do anything for the god they love.
To escape the curse of love, there was no choice but to choose death, to kill even the idol god.
Kumush: King Enis, we weren't in important positions from the beginning.
Kumush: It was Prince Azel who guided us to them.
Temel: The development of the tourism association and the market also has Prince Azel's advice behind it.
Temel: I have nothing but respect for his foresight.
Azel: Don't mention it. I merely provided the opportunity for you to shine...
Azel: I just discovered your inherent talents and "bought" them.
Kamal: Azel, you don't realize how amazing that is.
Enis: You're still better suited to be king than I am. How about it, after being a god, why not try wearing a crown?
Azel: No, thank you. I want to enjoy my retirement.
Azel: I'll meet with you periodically and give you advice for a fee, but I won't do anything more than that.
My rejection is met with laughter in the hall.
Since when did I start to see emotions other than revenge in that scene?
*flashback*
Azel: From the next dawn, you will build the future with your own hands.
Azel: I look forward to seeing what kind of future the "human nation," free from the hands of God, will build.
*flashback over*
(Those were my true feelings.)
(...Even though I'm a god who doesn't love people.)
Izzet: Prince Azel... May I speak?
Azel: What is it, Izzet?
Izzet: Um... Shall I bring you a chair?
Kamal: Ah, hey!
Enis: Izzet... even though everyone was pretending not to notice...
(...)
(...Well, I guess it had to be said.)
There are thirteen chairs in this room—but there are fifteen people here, including myself.
Enis has taken a new seat, and his attendant, Izzet, stands beside him. The other newcomer, Emma, is sitting on my lap.
Emma: ...Prince Azel... As I thought...
Azel: Don't worry about it. I'm just doing this because I don't want to bother with bringing a chair.
Kumush: If that's the case, I'll stand!
Basil: No, I'll stand!
Temel: I'll—
Azel: That's quite alright. You are all important figures in this country, so please sit in the chairs.
(Smirking, smirking... It's not like I enjoy having her on my lap either.)
(It was just efficient. That's all.)
Emma: It would be easier if I just stood...
Azel: Ah, yes. The reason I gathered everyone here today is because there's something I wanted to tell you all.
I firmly embrace Emma's waist as she actually tries to stand, forcibly pulling her back onto my lap.
(...It's not like I want her sitting here, but there's no need to run away, is there?)
Azel: She will be involved in the establishment of the Tanzanite Book Merchants Association in the future, taking over from Akatsuki.
Azel: Emma is also a talented merchant, so I thought I'd try my hand at nurturing her.
Azel: I think there will be more opportunities for all of you to interact with her, so please make sure to remember her face.
Azel: Ah, but try not to stare. She's shy.
Emma: ...It's just that this situation is unbearable...
Emma's voice, as she covers her face with both hands, is so faint it's almost inaudible.
(How cute—)
(...No, that's wrong. Stop it. I feel like I'm becoming an idiot too.)
Kamal: ...Enis, you have many wives, don't you?
Kamal: Why don't you teach Azel how to conduct a romantic relationship?
Kamal: He was a god, you know, so he doesn't know how to treat girls.
Enis: Well... I suppose it's fine. He'll learn eventually after making some mistakes.
(How rude. What do they mean by "mistakes"?)
That's what I think inwardly, but everyone's gaze is lukewarm.
(...)
(...So this is what it means to be an ordinary person, huh?)
-
After seeing off the gathered people, the usual time descends upon the solitary desert castle.
After dinner, when it's time to sleep, I always hold Emma in my arms on the bed.
This, too, is a force majeure that started because I was tired of putting Emma back in the middle of the bed whenever she tried to sneak off to the edge. It's certainly not because I want to hold her or feel her warmth.
(Could this also be a "mistake"?)
(...It's not like I'm bothered by what they said earlier, but...)
Azel: What was the right thing to do?
Emma: Huh...?
Azel: ...Enis said it, didn't he? That it was a mistake.
Azel: What was the right thing to do in that situation?
Emma: Well... generally, you wouldn't have someone sit on your lap in public.
Azel: I told you many times, it was for efficiency.
Emma: ...Was it really just for efficiency?
Azel: There's no other reason.
Emma: Then say it while looking at me.
She cups my cheeks in her hands, forcing our eyes to meet.
I was about to complain, but the smile that bloomed before my eyes made me speechless.
Emma: Thank you.
Azel: ...What are you thanking me for?
Emma: For always loving me in a way that's easy to understand.
Azel: ...But I don't love you?
Even as I that, before I know it, I'm kissing her.
I know intellectually that this act is meant to convey love, but I can't stop myself.
Always, always—every time our eyes meet, I want to kiss her.
Even I find it baffling.
Emma: Nn... That's the least convincing "I don't love you" I've ever heard.
Azel: ...Shut up.
I seal her lips out of spite, stealing away her ability to laugh.
(No matter what you say, I don't want to admit it.)
(Even if the love I know is different from the "real love" you speak of—...)
When I look into her face, she wraps her arms around the back of my neck, looking unsatisfied.
As I entwine our tongues and caress her slender back, a muffled, frustrated voice escapes her lips.
(I don't love you...)
I press my finger against her nipple through her negligee and rub my knee between her damp thighs.
Even though I know intellectually that this is also something lovers do, my body won't stop.
(...No, this is just human physiological desire. It can't be helped, it's force majeure.)
Emma: Prince Azel...
(It's definitely not because Emma seemed to want it or anything like that...)
(It's because it's my creed to live greedily, so I have no choice...)
Emma: ...Nn... I was thinking during the meeting today...
Emma: Prince Azel... even though you say you don't love me, you're surely... more affectionate than anyone else.
Azel: Huh?
I involuntarily stop my hand and peer into her sweet face.
Azel: What did I do for you to interpret it that way?
Emma: When you were talking to everyone... you had a gentle expression.
Emma: I was secretly watching from your lap, thinking, "This must be Prince Azel's true nature"...
(...This isn't funny.)
(A god who doesn't love people is affectionate...)
Emma: Ah... Hyaa...!
I lift up her negligee and thrust my fingers in, all at once.
I delve deep inside, so that her mouth can't utter any more nonsense.
Azel: You're mistaken.
Emma: Ah, nn... That's... unfair!
Azel: I don't care.
(I just like to see people carve out their own path with their own strength.)
(I just like the moments when people laugh together and create a lively atmosphere...)
(...To call this affectionate...)
(...)
(...Will she say it?)
(No, she won't. Please don't say it.)
Emma: Loving someone isn't scary.
As if she could see right through my heart, Emma embraces me.
Emma: When I can prove that to you...
Emma: Please be more honest and love many things.
Unconsciously, my breath begins to tremble.
I kiss her hair, praying she doesn't notice my trembling.
Emma: Ah, but... I want to be Prince Azel's number one.
Emma: I want to be loved more than anyone else...
Emma also presses her lips against mine, her face bashful before my eyes.
It was a carefree bashfulness that seemed to defy the logic that love is a curse.
Azel: ...
Emma: ...
Azel: .................
Emma: ...Um...
Emma: ...Say something, please. This is awkward.
Azel: It's your own fault, isn't it?
(Love is a curse. That's why I will never love anyone.)
(...But, if by any chance, what you say is true, and real love doesn't make anyone unhappy...)
(I might not refuse to admit that I love you...)
Emma: Prince Azel—...
Azel: ...If you're going to say things like "number one," could you please stop doing that for starters?
Emma: Stop what?
Azel: Calling me "Prince"
Azel: I'm an ordinary person now, so isn't "Prince" strange?
Emma: Why so suddenly...?
Azel: There's no deep meaning.
(The first people I loved were my brothers.)
(Those brothers don't call me "Prince")
(If you're so insistent that love isn't a curse, you should start by changing how you address me.)
(Because it makes me feel clearly loved.)
Emma: Then, how about Azel-san?
(...If possible, I'd prefer just my name...)
(No, no one else calls me that, so maybe it's better this way.)
Azel: Well, that's fine.
Azel: Emma.
Emma: W-what is it?
As usual, I pin Emma down and kiss her, never tiring of it.
Precisely because I understand that this emotion, which I can't control despite knowing logically what it is, is "real love"—
I won't admit it yet.
Azel: I don't love you, so don't misunderstand.
Emma: Hehe... You're quite stubborn. Just the way I like it.
(I won't admit it... but the hateful curse you've placed on me is too strong.)
(...What are you going to do about it, damn it?)
.
.
.
FIN
If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar!
#ikepri jp#ikemen prince#ikemen prince translations#azel radwan main route#azel radwan main story#azel radwan translations#azel radwan both endings epilogue
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Potential Fantasy Jobs!
If you don't want to use the same stereotypical Generic Fantasy Land jobs to center your stories around, stay here! I'm going to be adding to this as ideas come to me!
A) Ritual Salter-And-Burner
The country that this character lives in is highly rituatlistic about how to pay proper ceremony to the dead as it is believed that if these steps aren't performed then the dead will be forced to stay on Earth and won't be able to complete the cycle.
However, what if a person dies in rather hard-to-reach place such as the tallest mountains that are almost entirely uninhabitable? Or in a different country? Or isn't strictly dead but "missing"? Or is stuck in something a bit more private than a military/boarding school?
That's were Salt-Burners come in! While there are different types of Salters, the entire occupation is about finding and performing the proper rites and rituals that, for some reason, the typical workers can't.
There are Salt-Burners who specialize in specific, hard-to-traverse places such as the mountains or caves.
There are Salt-Burners who specialize in fighting the legal battles where family members may not be able to.
There are Salt-Burners who specialize in finding not-comfirmed dead bodies such as in cases of missing people or people whose bodies weren't found. This can be through investigation, spying, and/or surveillance
B) Species Conservationist
This occupation is designed to protect the land for the purposes of being used by fantasy creatures where they be dragons, fairies, mermaids, or werewolves. This means their expertise is often found in specific plots of lands with their duty being to protect the land in the arena of law. This is due to the common problem of these species being unable to speak the common language, being an actual animal, or being generally unwilling to engage in the outside world. When government attempts to "lovingly use" the land for their own purposes, it's the Species Conservationist to protect these vulnerable groups.
C) Prosthetic Technician
Depending on their specialization, P.T can make prosthetic tails for mermaids who have either damaged, lost, or were born without a tail where there should have been one. P.Ts can work on all variety of fantasy creatures from fairy wings to devil horns and all manners of prosthetics for creatures that can't be helped with the typical human-based technicians.
D) Exotic Species Sellers
Where are my people trying to sell Wolpentigers to the rich? Where are my con-artists trying to steal human canines from coffins in order to pass them off as vampire teeth? Where are my exotic bird species that is absolutely "so ugly it's cute" that has become the symbol of revolution meaning that everyone now has to buy one of these cute suckers from their local exotic animal salesperson?
They can either be perfectly legal, con-artists, or illegal but honorable in that "what you see is what you get" kinda way.
I'm not talking about antiques. I'm talking about actual animals and species souvenirs.
E) Vampire Dentist
Need I say more?
F) Inquisitor
An Inquisitor is a supreme and one of the most respected members of the church who conducts interviews for canidates of acceptance and promotion. An Inquisitor is someone who has the remarkable ability to see if someone is telling a truth or a lie, and they have decided to employ this skill to serve your world or country's religion.
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
The new Mrs. Winchester (19)
Word count: 4.5K
Pairing: Sam X Reader AU
Chapter warnings: Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, PTSD, angst, flesh trade, language, mention of violence; reader discretion is strongly advised.
Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?
A/N: A huge shoutout to all my wonderful readers! Your support and love keeps me going! <3
Beta: My darling, @deanssweetheart23
“You can’t kick 'em in the nuts and make a run for it?” The girl in the next cell asked.
“Not if you want to avoid getting beaten into a pulp,” you told her through a mouthful of bread and tomato. “There’s always a guard outside the door.”
“Kick 'em in the nuts, too.”
You snorted so hard, bits of tomato landed on the floor.
“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “There are fancy rooms upstairs with wardrobes full of fancy clothes that you have to wear and then they take you to other fancy places for men–”
“Sometimes it’s just the fancy rooms overhead. Men come here, too.”
“But they take you out, don’t they?” She argued. “Just go to a reception and tell the hostess, a waitress, anyone. I know you managed to run away once… so why not try again? If they let you out, it can’t be that hard!”
You swallowed the bite in your mouth and sighed. What did it matter if you told her the truth? Neither of you would make it out anyway.
“They’ve kidnapped my half-brother and half-sister. Little kids, barely six… have them at gunpoint somewhere. I make one wrong move and they are dead.”
“Shit.”
You could picture her dumbstruck expression. After spending a week next to her, seeing her face while going in and out, you were starting to get a hang of her. You still didn’t know why you did it, take her turn every night. Eventually, they would drag her out, but for a week, the boss wasn’t in the building and no one seemed to push the inevitable and drag that girl’s stubborn ass out.
And boy was she stubborn. She bit and clawed like a wild cat at the guards who tried to drag her. She got plenty beat up in the process, but everyone seemed to wait for the boss to get her in line when he came.
“Don’t you worry,” she said. “My fiance is going to get us out.”
“Fiance?”
“Yeah. I bet he’s worried out of his mind right now. But there’s police. They’ll find us.”
“The police are in on this,” you said. “They get serviced for their quiet.”
She spat, then screamed in frustration.
Footsteps echoed off the walls, and blood froze in your veins. You recognised the hard tap and unforgiving rhythm of his steps. The boss.
“Go to your bed and pretend to sleep,” you hissed, discarding the sandwich in your hand and doing the same.
“W-what?”
“Just do it.”
Covering yourself entirely with the blanket, you rolled into a ball, as if that would make you invisible, teleport you out of the horror story you were about witness. Since staring at the glass wall in his cabin for the first time, you had prayed for yourself. The pastor in the church your aunt dragged you to every Sunday preached that one should only pray for the world and not for oneself… because praying for oneself was selfish. If you prayed only for the world, that made you a good person, and God helped good people without having to ask for it.
You had never been particularly religious, but that one thing had stuck around. Subconsciously, all your life, you had never asked for yourself, not from God, the universe or even as a favour from people. If you wanted something, you had worked hard to earn it, and achieve it by sheer will and not divine intervention.
But that first night with the boss had made you pray for yourself over and over.
And you prayed now, in whispers that only remained in your breath, never making a sound.
God, let him forget that I exist… Not tonight. Please please please.
The footsteps came to a halt, and the door next to yours opened.
You closed your eyes tighter. Oh, that poor girl. He had come for her at last.
“I hear you’ve been difficult.”
A spit.
“Michael,” he said in his cold, raspy voice. “Hand me my cane, now.”
“Yes, Boss,” said Michael, gleefully.
A slash in the air and a piercing scream sliced the air.
You shut your ears tightly as the scuffling began… but then it ended as suddenly as it had started when a loud, sickening crunch which sounded so close to the shared wall that you were certain it had happened against it.
A minute passed.
“Oh, what a terrible waste,” the boss sighed at last, almost delicately. “Remove it.”
The taps receded and then soon they carried her body by your cell, blood trailing behind her.
You sat up bolt in your bed, unable to keep the bile down as you emptied your stomach on the carpet next to the bed. Sam’s side of the carpet.
You plopped back on the bed, breathing heavily.
“Just a dream,” you told yourself. “Just a dream.” Then, the reality came crashing down on you and you wanted to throw up all over again.
Abby’s quiet knock from the main door wrenched you out of bed and through the seating area. She didn’t have to see the vomit. Her face was pinched when you opened the door for her. She entered trepidly and placed the breakfast tray on the table.
“Who’s in the house?” You asked
“Just us,” she said. “Mr Dean Winchester left last night itself.”
“And S-Sam? He’s out for his run?”
“Mr Winchester left for work.”
“It’s only 7.”
She gave you an apprehensive look, as if she wanted to say something but was scared of how you would perceive it.
“What is it, Abby?”
“Miss, he’s in a right state, that man. Before you came, he used to be so dry and detached… but this past month, since you first locked yourself in your room, he’s gone from pillar to post for you. Sleep, food, everything be damned. The only thing he has done is worry.” Her hand fluttered nervously to her side. “He stumbled down the steps this morning from exhaustion and still went for his run anyway. I think he needs to see a doctor.”
Abby didn’t know what had conspired last night.
“I don’t know the deal with his brother being back now,” she said, wrangling the corner of her apron. “But everyone knows they don’t get along. It can’t be good for him.”
Sam had looked exhausted last evening. The dark circles under his eyes, the once-fitted shirt that hung loose on his shoulders, and the ever-present frown on his forehead had become more and more etched now.
“Abby, tell me when Sam is back, will you?”
You sent her away and cleaned up your mess in the bedroom. A hot shower further cleared your head. Taking stock of your time in the Winchester Mansion made you recount the number of times you had run out on Sam, locked yourself in the room, the number of secrets you had kept. So, he’d had his own secrets. You knew that.
Then there was the fact that Sam had never explicitly said he hated his brother. In fact, he’d never spoken of him without pain mingled with love. His exact words- “We had a fight and I couldn’t see his face after that.” Couldn’t…. Not ‘Didn’t want.’ Nowhere had his words implied that Sam’s consent was considered.
The day appeared stormy, with an overcast sky. Maybe the light of the lantern would carry, perhaps it wouldn’t. You set it on the sill anyway.
Dean found you at the pier an hour later, when you had nearly given up hope. He stood at his usual spot but did not sit beside you and you noticed he was dressed differently; no jacket today, just a black T-shirt and jeans.
Slowly, you tilted your face upwards to meet his sharp green eyes. How often had you wondered what Dean Winchester would be like? Bitter? Angry? But Han wasn’t any of those things.
“Get up!” He ordered, without an ounce of remorse. You got to your feet.
“This way,” he pointed and began to walk towards the jungle without a preamble.
A frisson of annoyance ran through you. Where was his abashedness?
“Sam didn’t know,” he said briskly. “That you knew me. That we knew each other. That poor bastard had no damn clue.”
“You want me to believe you’ve been hiding out in these woods without Sam knowing?”
“Yes.” He came to an abrupt stop and you realised Dean was dead serious. “That kid’s as straight-jacketed as they come. Keeping up the charade nearly did a number on his head, and then you came into the picture. Sam’s nearly lost his goddamned mind over you.”
“He told you that?”
Dean sighed in exasperation. “Haven’t you been listening to a single word? I haven’t seen Sam in months, not since the fight. But he’s my only family left. I had to keep an eye on the kid.”
The trees were too damn thick for any sunlight to trickle down. Dean started walking again and you followed.
“What was the fight about, then?” You pressed, refusing to believe.
“You,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Two years before I came into the picture? Yeah, right.”
Dean tilted his head, weighing his words. “About the idea of you, I guess.”
“Wow, that clears it all up, doesn’t it?” You laughed sarcastically.
He stayed quiet for so long that you actually paid attention to your surroundings, finding the trail vaguely familiar in the thick trees.
“We were to be married in eight weeks,” he said, voice deep and achingly sad. “She’d come to drop off pie for me. Sam says he insisted on dropping her back, but I knew my Jo. She was stubborn that one. If she wanted to drive herself, nothing Sam said would’ve changed her mind. Nothing. Ellen called three hours later asking for her. We searched all night long, all through the woods, all the way two towns over. Nothing. Sniffer dogs couldn’t catch a trail. The police found her car two days later in New Mexico… and her body two weeks later face down in the lake.”
You wanted to reach out, say something… anything, but words failed.
“She hadn’t drowned, Y/N. She’d already been dead when they threw her in there. Post-mortem said haemorrhage… blunt force trauma to the back of her head, ligature marks, bruises…” He closed his eyes unable to continue.
You knew bits and parts of what followed– Dean’s self-destructive tendency and Sam’s unwavering support. The latter won.
“Sam still thinks he’s to blame. That he should have somehow foreseen it. I know Ellen doesn’t disagree with him or shy away from throwing it in his face.” A mirthless scoff.
“I think the bigger part of her anger is because of what Sam did to you… and me.” You said. “Or rather, what she thinks he did to you and me.”
Dean sighed. “I owe Sam a lot more than my life, a sorry and a thank you. This whole plan hinges on his resilience.”
“What plan?”
He ran a hand through his hair, but his pace slowed down. “The detective working this case, Jody Mills… she’s suspected a human trafficking ring here for years. Every few years someone goes missing or a body mysteriously appears. But this thing has its claws in so deep that we can’t trust the entire PD.”
A shiver ran down your spine.
He glanced at you briefly, and you saw the ever-present kindness there. “You’re smart. I’m sure you’ve figured out a bunch of this yourself.”
Nodding to yourself, you thought out loud. “Sam wasn’t keeping me around for sex, didn’t want to hang me as bait for kidnapping, so obviously he wants information about where I was but…” You vividly remembered the night when he’d held your bloody hand and then all but shushed your barrage when you had tried to spill it all in a haze. “He stopped me from telling him… He didn’t want to hear any of it.”
Dean chuckled. A sudden light sound in the pressing quiet. “And I just called you smart.”
“What?”
“For all your God-forsaken angst over loving Sam… Have you not considered him liking you back?” Dean narrowed his eyes as if he was judging your intelligence. “Obviously it’s hard for him to listen to what you’ve been through. Hell, I’ve choked back on what little you’ve told me. Why are you being so thick?”
Tears sprang in your eyes.
He placed a gentle hand against your cheek.
“Give yourself some credit, Y/N. As stupid as you’re being right now, how can you question your own judgement of Sam so easily? You took your time forming your opinion, didn’t you? So consider all proof objectively. He was on board with the plan from day one knowing it would wreck his reputation if I disappeared after transferring my inheritance to him, knowing he’d have to make himself a villain… all for Jo. The kid didn’t bat an eye before agreeing. What led to the fight was the very last step of the plan. After infiltrating the system, he’d have to be one of them and well…”
“Buy a girl,” you finished.
“Yes,” said Dean. The word hung heavy in the air. “Sam refused to do it at first, but it was the only way. It’s killed him since day one, Y/N. And yesterday when you said he’s no better than any of those men who hurt you…”
The tears now freely flowed down your cheek and right into Dean’s palm. He slowly directed your face into his chest, tightly wrapping his arms around you.
“Oh, what have I done?” You whispered into his jacket.
Sam had banged hard on your door last night and you never gave him a chance to explain. Not a single word. If you truly loved him, how come the trust was broken this easily? And when you refused to speak, he’d respected your consent then, too.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” you said. “I should’ve trusted him, trusted you. After all, you never coaxed anything from me. I–”
A thousand memories ran through your mind: Sam’s fingers holding up your corset, touching his hand for the first time in the entrance hall before, his laugh after the false escape from dinner. Sam handing you a portfolio, Sam showing you around the old guesthouse, his fingers slipping on your wet shirt in the barn, laughing with him on the floor of your bedroom, his voice as he read out poetry… and his lips when they met yours.
“Sam took to playing chess in high school,” said Dean as you moved back. “I don’t think he ever got too good at it, but he used to come back rambling about all these moves, the King's Gambit, the Scandanavian, the Sicilian. He didn’t have anyone to play against, so I learned the basics to humour him and we played every night before bed.”
He’d started walking again and you kept pace this time.
“So there we are one night, recreating some classic game from half a century ago and I played a different piece and well, what do you know, my king ended up in a position from where he couldn’t move. Thought I’d lost because that was the only square my King was safe in. But then Sam said that’s not what it was. I couldn’t be forced to move my King to a checked square, but it wasn’t currently checked. A stalemate is what it was. That’s where we are at, Y/N.”
“A stalemate?”
“Yes. We know pieces of information, but not the ones that actually matter. It’s our move next, but every square is checked, Y/N. We need to know.”
The dim lights of the dungeon came back to you and oddly the crack of the skull. “The operation is not local, definitely crosses state lines. The building where they kept me is somewhere along New Mexico's border. It’s a huge glass building, seven stories high. I don’t know exactly where but from the se…” you gulped. “From the seventh floor, I could see a tall red tower with blinking lights. They blinked all the time… like passing seconds… but slower than s- seconds. The boss sits on the seventh floor.”
“The boss?”
“I-I don’t know his name. No one does. They only call him ‘the boss.”
“This is good, Y/N,” Dean said eagerly. “What does he look like? How does he find these girls? How does he keep them?”
“He… He looks like any other white man, in his 50’s, maybe early 60’s but his eyes, he has the coldest gray eyes and his laugh...” You stopped, collecting your thoughts. “You already know how he gets the girls. Men as scouts, pretending to be friends or lovers, finding vulnerable girls with little in the way of family. Me… Rosalie. About keeping them, there are two ways. One is standard, get them hooked to heroin. Once you have that, they’ll do anything to get the next fix. But those girls don’t make much money, yeah? They aren’t polished. I was the second kind, for the richer clientele that don’t like the smell of drugs and want the girls alive and kicking. For them, guess, it’s easier to blackmail by holding a loved one hostage. Rosalie only had a mother and I only had Jamie and Danny.”
You told him about how your siblings were held hostage somewhere, and how you stayed in line just to protect them.
“There’s very little we wouldn’t do to protect them, wouldn’t we?”
Dean nodded, then came to a halt and you noticed with some surprise that you were standing in front of the wishing well.
His fingers grazed the parapet's tally marks, and you voiced a long-lost curiosity. “Why do you have one extra?”
“That dumbass brought you here, didn’t he?” Dean snorted. “So much for our secret place.” But he didn’t seem to hold any grudge over it. “Dad brought me here right before Sam was born. Told me this was a magic well, so I needed to make a wish about what I wanted… a sister or a brother.”
“What did you ask for?”
“You see the extra mark there, don’t you?” He winked. “After the fire, I used to run out a lot, trying to find the well again. Wish my dead parents back, you know? Finally found it when I was twelve and Sam was eight. ”
“Seems like you’ve kept pace since with the tallys.”
Dean winked as if there was a secret to it, but didn’t share it with you.
“Come on, make a wish then,” he said.
“One is already due. I don’t want to burden the well.” You sighed. “Look, Dean. I’ll help you with whatever you want. I can draw plans of the building, and the street layout I could see from the seventh floor. Tell you the number of guards, the shifts, even the names of some of the clients, but I need you to promise me that nothing will happen to my brother and sister.”
“I promise.”
The walk back should have seemed like an interrogation, except Dean held your hand as you described more of the place, the people, the process… the boss.
“I told you already, I don’t know his name,” you burst out when he questioned a third time.
Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Did he… Did he hurt you? This boss?”
You laughed. One short, shaky laugh. “He had a wall full of these instruments… silver, gleaming and so cold.” Then there was the glass wall.
“Oh, that son of a bitch.”
“I wonder why you think Jo was involved in this,” you said, more to change the subject that anything else. “I mean she didn’t exactly fit the pattern.” Full family, doting boyfriend, well-to-do. Blitz kidnapping didn’t seem likely. The boss had to have had something on her.
“No, she didn’t fit the pattern and for a long time, we didn’t suspect her to have been in this.”
“How come?”
Dean’s voice reduced to barely above a whisper. “No obvious signs of… sexual assault in the postmortem report.” And despite the tragedy of it, Dean almost sounded relieved. He pulled out an old wallet from his back pocket and gazed at a picture inside lovingly. “I don’t know, Y/N, it makes me feel like an asshole but knowing that maybe she might have escaped the worst of it… God, I think it kept me from throwing myself off a damn cliff.”
“Oh, Dean!” You closed the distance in-between to hug him. “I bet she–” you gasped. The wallet hung loosely in his grasp and you glimpsed the picture behind the plastic.
You grabbed the wallet and held it up. “That… That’s Jo? Your Jo?”
He took you by your shoulders. “You knew her?”
“Oh my God!” All the hurt and anger and fear came crashing down on you as you collapsed to the green earth of the side lawn. Over the years she had gone from being the girl in the next cell, to the girl with brown eyes, to the girl in your nightmares and eventually… the only thing you were proud of.
“She’s… she used to be the girl in the next cell. I knew her.”
“Who did this to her?” Dean asked, voice so sharp, it didn’t even sound his.
“The Boss did,” you whispered. “I think it might have been an accident. I only heard the scuffle and then the crack of her skull. It was quick. She didn’t suffer much.”
There was a sharp intake of breath over you and you didn’t dare look up.
“Dean, you should know, the girls there… eventually choose to stay there. I know I did. Once you stop with the kicking and screaming, it gets a little easier. The bad days are lesser and most clients don’t treat you like complete trash. There’s food on your plate at night and poor orphan girls have a bed to sleep in when they comply… they…. we stop fighting. Because there is no relief to fight for, no home to go to and no one who could protect us. But your Jo, she never stopped. I bet she took a few teeth out of that one guard, too.”
“Did they… did anyone ever…?” He could not spit the entire sentence out and you saw the courage it took to finally confront that question.
You looked straight in his tear-stained tortured eyes. “No one hurt her that way. I… I took her turns for the week she was there. I still don’t know why I did it. I’m not a charitable person, and it was hell that week, but something about her faith in her fiance reminded me of, well, me… before I found out how I got there. I wanted to protect her faith just a little longer. So, no Dean, no one touched her that way. And you should also know, she died like she lived, fighting and believing in your love for her.”
Dean hugged you and broke down. “Thank you… Thank you for doing that for my Jo,” he blubbered. “You’re… You’re like an angel. Sam said that you know… yesterday he said that he thought you were some kind of an angel when he first saw you dressed in white. Wasn’t wrong.”
And you broke down with Dean. The night had descended upon you, as you both held each other in the darkness and just cried.
Much later, locked in the dining room, you drew the floor plans of the building from your memory, a map of the road and the way to the bus stop that you could remember, the names of the guards, physical descriptions, names of the girls, anything and everything you could think of. The maids all gave you curious looks. Getting along with a brother-in-law would be normal for most families, but an estranged brother-in-law who you had never supposedly met? Knowing the history they knew, that had to look shady.
As it turned out, Dean had been alternating between living in the Guest house in Sam’s room and a cabin further north that not many people knew of in the estate. He knew ways to sneak in and out better than almost anyone. Hired security was never too big a problem for him. He was to set out first thing tomorrow morning to see how he could use your intel.
“You know my roommate Carmen,” you said at the door when he was about to leave. “She might have been the only one to care for me back then. I fought with her the night before. If you can do one thing for me, find her and tell her she was right and I am so very sorry.”
“Of course.” Dean stepped up and kissed your forehead. “And Y/N, I’m going to get that bastard. Not just for what he did to Jo, but also for what he did to you. You said you didn’t fight after a while because you didn’t have a home, a family. Now you do. Remember that.”
You watched Dean head out. He would be gone before you woke up tomorrow, but you felt lighter than you had in years, like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. Upstairs, you found Abby in her room.
She stood up the moment she saw you. “Miss, is everything alright?”
“Yes, Abby. I was wondering if you knew when Sam would be back?”
“He was home earlier this evening but didn’t stay long. I believe he left for Colorado.”
Hurt. “Did he say anything about when he would return?”
“No, Miss.”
“Did he ask about me?”
“No, Miss.”
“Did he say anything at all?”
The pitying shake of her head was enough for you to turn around and return to your room. What if you had hurt Sam beyond fixing this time? Abby had been correct, he looked fragile, not just physically, but something about the fragmented look in his eyes, as if one blow could shatter him. What if your hurtful words and vitriolic accusation finally pushed him to the edge? How much bullshit could one man take after all?
You had stepped into this house thinking you would be used, and it was the most horrid feeling in the world. What if Sam thought the same now? That you had used him… used his home, his wealth, and his empathy. Hell, you had used his body, too!
No, you didn’t pray for yourself much. But in that moment you did- God, please give me one chance to apologise. Please.
*****************************
A/N 2: So turns out I was tagging all wrong :/ Ana is feeling sad about that. Hopefully, it will work this time.
Please do let me know what you think of this part. Reblogs and comments are what keep me going!
If you want to be tagged, you can send me an ask or you can add yourself to the taglist here.
Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.
Tag list:
@cosicas-cuquis @daughterleftbehind @maliburenee @spn730015 @aeo10fan
@stoneyggirl @houseforwhores @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @linki-locks11 @cookiechipdough
@impalaimagining @gabavaldman @multifandom-slxt @chalicia @mrswhozeewhatsis
@mackiemcb @qveenmikaelson @lightchesters @deanwanddamons @mlovesstories
@sams-bubblegum-bitch @chinosherlock @hoboal87 @sandlee44 @mariaenchanted
@little-x-wolf @theanniewisegirl @supraveng @i-is-for-inspiring @fandom-princess-forevermore
@sammedeansandwhich @trexrambling @strawberryycoww @joseyrw @lacilou
@giggles1029 @perpetuallyoverwhelmed @borhapparker @wafflezo @sammysgirl
@goodbyemilkyway @winnifredburkleismyhero @impalaspixie @edwardsfangirl1712 @fandomoniumflurry
@pbandjelly @sammysgirl1997 @aloneatpeace @spnexploration @sojuxxi
@vickyfarley @esoltis280 @mayafatimakhan
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#reader x sam winchester#sam winchester fanfiction#spn fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural#spn#sam x reader#sam winchester x Y/N#sam winchester reader insert#Ana writes spn#anawrites#Ana writes TNMW#tnmw19#q
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cynic
here's part 2
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶
✯ pairing: RB! Sebastian Vettel x Engineer! Reader ✯
✯ content warnings: none ✯
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶
She was a cynic, she could feel, oh yes she felt, she felt through fiction, through writing, in a silent, yet not mute way. She was afraid, almost phobic, of doing it outside the safe confines of her mind, of materializing any feeling, of showing the world that under that armor there was a fragile heart afraid of being broken.
But this time she couldn't contain it, she had so much love, such a copious amount that no matter how much he kept it, no matter how much she repressed every little impulse, it overflowed, and left a facet that no one had witnessed in years slightly uncovered.
She found herself admiring him, as if he was the most prized relic of an exclusive museum, a silly smile on her lips that had become habitual when he was in her presence. His welcoming blue eyes shot her a look, almost reprimanding, a slight and teasing smile emerging on his pink lips.
“You look distracted,” he pointed out, his tone playful, “you’ve been looking quite distracted lately.”
She straightened herself slightly, a very subtle shade of pink appearing on her cheeks. “Do I?” she questioned casually, as if he was not the cause of her accelerated pulse.
Sebastian tilted his head, his smile widening at her badly acted nonchalance. “You do,” he confirmed, his tone light but his eyes sharp, like he was trying to read something deeper beneath her stoic façade. “Usually, you’re all business. Focused. Now…” He gestured vaguely, his hand slicing through the air. “Now you’re… I don’t know. Daydreaming?”
She scoffed, a sound meant to dismiss his observation, though her heart hammered in her chest. “Hardly,” she replied, her voice calm and even. “Maybe you’re imagining things. Spending too much time behind the wheel, Seb?”
He chuckled, the sound warm and familiar, like the kind of laughter that could thaw even the iciest resolve. “You’re deflecting,” he teased, his gaze never leaving hers.
“Am I?” she shot back, arching a brow, her voice laced with feigned indifference.
Seb stepped closer, just enough to close the gap between them, slightly invading her space. His presence was magnetic, commanding, and she despised how easily he disarmed her.
“You are,” he said softly, his tone shifting into something gentler. “But it’s okay. I get distracted too.”
Her breath subtly hitched at the quiet admission, her defenses faltering for just a moment. She wanted to ask—By what? By who?—but she did not dare. Instead, she shook her head, forcing a smirk to mask her nerves.
“Well,” she said, her voice steady even as her heart raced, “we can’t have two distracted people on the team. One of us has to keep things running.”
He laughed again, his head tilting back slightly. “Fair enough,” he conceded, his smile lingering as he straightened up. “Just… try not to get too distracted. It’s not like you.”
As he turned to leave, her lips parted, words dancing on the tip of her tongue—words she would never say. Instead, she watched him go, the vibrant blue of his racing suit blending into the chaos of the garage.
She sighed, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. If only he knew how much he consumed her thoughts, how hard it was to keep her carefully crafted walls from crumbling every time he so much as smiled at her.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶
✯ authors note: I will probably do a second part, and I also want to not only do RB Seb. English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3
#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x you#sebastian vettel x reader#sv5#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part 2: Neve Gallus and the Shadow Dragons
Overall: 7/10
Important things first. I absolutely love Neve's design. Her casual outfit with the IDGAF unbuttoned shirt is 10/10. She's both very fashion-forward and feminine, but doesn't look soft. It's neat. The only real critique I have here is that I don't like how most of her face is hidden by her hat. While this felt like an intentional choice, I think it detracted more than it added to her vibes.
Speaking of vibes, Neve's vibes are impeccable. She's a classic hardboiled detective solving mysteries and putting anything resembling a feeling in a box where it can't hurt her. They really leaned into the film-noir vibes with her voice direction with mixed results. Sometimes it's really effective, but other times it's stilted, especially next to characters who haven't been pulled out of a crime procedural. Overall, I really enjoyed her bit, but I can understand where critique about her voice direction comes from.
Despite her serious allergy to admitting her emotions, you can see how deeply she cares about the people around her by her actions. This worked really well in her interactions with the companions, but was a little bit more uneven when it came to Rook. I really liked seeing the social activities around the Lighthouse, but it was disappointing that Rook wasn't really directly involved in any of them. As a result they felt like an outsider (or like the Boss that people don't want to get too close to).
You could also see this with Neve herself. She liked to give the other characters small, practical advice and support for their problems, but didn't really seem to give Rook (who frankly, has more serious problems than a lot of his companions) the same treatment. I think this is really an area where the writing would have benefited from the addition of some barks and greetings to help link the "relationship-level-up" scenes and make it feel more like the characters are slowly getting to know each other, versus have an uneven sort of ladder where the relationship moves in jumps and starts.
This unfortunately also extends to her romance. I am the kind of person who really enjoys NPC romances. It not only makes me feel like the characters have more agency, but it is often a two-cakes scenario when it comes to interesting ships. The gender inversion of the detective x femme fatale of the pairing between Neve and Lucanis is really interesting, and they both use acts of service as their love language. Unfortunately, while the two of them have a lot of chemistry with each other, their chemistry with the player character is pretty flat. Lucanis's romance suffers more, in my opinion, because the content is so much sparser, but I also felt it with Neve. My poor head canons need to do a lot of heavy lifting to make the Veilguard relationships work.
Neve's role in the story is twofold. She helps provide a number of useful connections in Northern Thedas (Harding also plays this role). Additionally, she's our guide to Minrathous. For a Rook who does not have a Shadow Dragons origin, she's responsible for convincing the player that the city is worthy of saving. Personally I feel like the narrative emphasized how hopeless the whole situation in Dock Town a bit too much. I would have liked the narrative to give approximately 15% more weight to scenes like Hal and his fish-stand to show that Dock Town had good people and was worth trying to salvage.
Admittedly, I'm also pretty disappointed that we finally get to see THE BIGGEST AND MOST MAGICAL CITY IN THEDAS, but are limited to just exploring Dock Town which feels like a pretty generic fantasy dock town. I feel like this was a big missed opportunity. Frankly I would have preferred if Veilguard was set entirely in one city and we had the chance to really explore that one location.
Neve is one of two characters who can become hardened. This is done not through her personal quest, but through an early-game decision to choose which of two cities to protect from a blighted dragon attack. Thematically I like how the game is moving away from good versus evil choices. One of the major themes the story was trying to tell was that there are sometimes no "good" choices. There are some interesting parallels between Solas and Rook and the themes of regret. What I found awkward here was that there really wasn't justification for why Rook played such a key role in the defence of the city (and subsequently why people outside of Neve/Lucanis blamed Rook for what happened). I also think that the narrative could have done a smoother job explaining that with Minrathous, the problem was not in the defence of the city, so much as it was the political implications. I think this choice would have felt more interesting if they worded it more explicitly to be a choice between protecting the civilians in a city from the immediate brutality of the dragon attack (Treviso) versus protecting the civilians in a city from the long-term brutality of an oppressive political regime (Minrathous).
As a slight aside, I did feel like it was kind of goofy that Neve, who is a well-known public figure, could just waltz into a venatori gathering.
Her personal quest is a paint by numbers affair. You help her with a case that spirals into a confrontation with her nemesis, a venatori mage. She needs to be guided through choosing to leverage the help of a shady organization, or crack the case through legitimate channels. It folded in nicely with the main story, but did illustrate the problems with the venatori as one of the main groups of villains.
Part of me almost wishes that the outcome of Neve's personal quest would depend on whether or not she was hardened, versus something that you explicitly chose. I feel like hardening Neve had much fewer implications on the story than hardening Lucanis, and I would have liked to see some story changes.
The Shadow Dragons
I really liked the idea of the Shadow Dragons. I think they were probably my favorite of the factions. It was really brutal to see what happened to them if you chose to save Treviso over Minrathous. I also feel like their existence could have gone a long way in explaining why the culture of Tevinter was so different from what we might've expected given how it was depicted in the games based in Southern Thedas. Throw in a few lines about how attitudes of slavery in Tevinter have been shifting over the last 10 years due to changes in policy from Dorian and Mae, underground movements like the Shadow dragons and maybe, for bonus points, a certain elf who has been cutting his way through slavers.
Not including Fenris in the Shadow Dragons really does feel like a missed opportunity. Quantum characters are one of the general design problems with the Dragon Age games. Getting to see cameos of characters from previous entries into the series is a lot of fun, and something that the series wants to do. Unfortunately, because of the complexities that would arise from the different configurations in people's worlds, these cameos either have to be super shallow so an NPC can be easily slotted in -- or people's previous canon need to be handwaved a-la Leliana-lyrium-ghost. Personally, I'd prefer half-assed explanations about why a character who should have been dead (or otherwise incapacitated) is back in action, but that's not really a good solution either. Frankly I think returning characters end up creating a sort of damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't situation.
Back to the Shadow Dragons. I liked them! I think my only quibble is that the Viper being the Black Divine was a weird narrative choice. I'm not complete with my save-mintrathous playthrough, so this might end up coming up more in the future, but thus-far, this revelation has been treated like a fun Easter egg. I also thought it was kind of funny (derogatory) that the ventatori who captured him didn't think to unmask the mysterious masked leader of the rebellion. I think the reason they didn't was because the narrative didn't want to deal with the fallout ... which is kinda lame.
Another intrusive thought I had whenever I saw him was that there is a whole masked empire in the south, and whether or not people thought that the Viper was from Orlais. This is a dumb thought, but it is one that I couldn't help but think.
How I would fix it:
Neve's storylines are folded into the main story much closer than Harding's. This means that resolving them would require addressing some of the deeper flaws in Veilguard's narrative. Despite my desire to write multi-thousand word essays analyzing the flaws of the game, I did ultimately enjoy playing it and would describe the experience as being a mostly fun romp with likeable characters and an interesting story that sometimes flubs the execution. I ran across a post describing DAV as one of the most polished unfinished games they've ever played, and this really resonated with me.
The Venatori (and Antaam) were one-note villains with the same pedigree as Corypheus. Note how I didn't name a specific Venatori. Aelia, who was the main antagonist of Neve's route, didn't really have much going on besides "evil venatori blood mage". While I don't think we need to make the pro-slavery nationalists sympathetic, I do feel like they would be more effective villains if it was more clear what their goals would actually look like for the people on the ground. As an aside, my eye twitched a little bit every time the phrase artifact or ritual was used. This felt like a huge opportunity to add a little bit of flavor into the stew. I don't think we need major lore reveals, but what seems more interesting: "We've got to stop the Venatori from using an artifact to complete a ritual" or "We've got to stop the Venatori from using the Chalice of Lost Souls from making legwarmers soul weave"?
Not specifying what the ritual or artifact was really made it clear that these things were just MacGuffins, and doesn't give the player any idea about why the Venatori are evil. While I think the scenes in Arlathan were they tortured animals while sitting on human chairs, it at least gave some specificity to their evil.
The Tevinter presented in Veilguard doesn't really reflect how the Empire was presented in the previous games. If the narrative choice to downplay racism and slavery was done because the creative team no longer felt interested in those themes or equipped to write them a statement should have been made to this effect. Regardless, the in-game cultural shift would be much less jarring for a returning player if some in-universe explanation had been provided. In the previous section I discussed a few different factors that may have shifted the attitude of the general population in Tevinter. This would help show the player that the Tevinter they've heard about isn't really representative of what the "average" Tevinter citizen is like. I think this could be accomplished really smoothly with a banter between Neve and Harding. Harding is surprised to see that the elves are treated more poorly in the South than in Tevinter. She can talk about the horrific blood orgies she's heard about. Neve can bring up that the average Tevinter citizen is horrified that the Danariuses of their country are how other nations perceive them. Additionally, this would help give the player a better idea of what the stakes for allowing the Ventori to get a foothold in Minrathous would be. It's the cultural traditionalists of Tevinter who want to go back to blood orgies.
My making the Venatori more compelling villains, I think you'd end up fixing 70% of the problems with Neve's story.
In terms of the other 30% percent, this is really where you feel the pain of removing the small ways the player can interact with the companions. Even though walking up to the companion and overhearing "hey Rook" is narratively identical to needing to press x to initiate the same "hey rook" conversation, it feels different from a gameplay perspective. Adding this back in would help make it feel like Rook was actually talking to his companions. I would also have really liked to involve Rook into the slice-of-life activities at the Lighthouse! Let the player decide if Rook would be interested in joining a book club, or explore what kind of cook Rook would be. I think this would help the feeling that Rook is a weird boss who listens in on people's conversations.
In Conclusion:
I like Neve a lot and think that the idea of a detective procedural set in Thedas has a lot of potential. I really liked her interactions with the other characters (especially Bellara!) and enjoyed watching her slowly warm up to the party. It's just a bit of a shame that I didn't get the same sense of slowly building friendship from the player-character.
As an aside, Tevinter Nights definitely enhances the experience of playing Veilguard. In addition to providing introductions for most of the companions, it also introduces a lot of important NPCS, this is where you see Neve first confront Aelia.
As another aside, I'm tired of games with end-of-the-world stakes. DA2 is probably my favorite entry into the series, and it has a much smaller scale than the other games. I really would have enjoyed a game consisting of helping Neve unravel mysteries in Minrathous and think that narratively, that sort of story is much easier to tell in a satisfying way.
So those are my thoughts on Neve. I would drink whisky with her while we speculated on who the Viper actually was, but first we need to do something about those Venatori (explain what the heck the cult actually wants).
#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#datv spoilers#datv#datv critical#veilguard critical#bioware critical#dragon age critical#dragon age review#neve gallus
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm conceptually pretty down for the prequel as a mode of storytelling - i think it's a fun exercise to show how the worldstate of the original work came about, and when it's about a specific character, I think it's a good reason to do a character study. that said, my reaction to mentor prequels tends to be "but why tho"
I think that's because
when mentors are interesting, it tends to be because a) they have goals that have some kind of mismatch with those of their mentee; b) they have a past with hints of seediness (or worse), especially in contrast to their current image; c) they have skills that are extraordinary in their intensity or their eclecticism; d) they're generally enigmatic and inscrutable.
Thus, it seems like it should be possible to write a prequel exploring either their past or how they acquired their skills, and it's not impossible, to be sure!
However, making the mentor the main character of the prequel tends to take some of the narrative interest of both the idea of prequels and the mentor themself. "how did the Archwizard become Archwizard?" well, probably they gained a lot of experience in magic somehow, or did a lot of political manipulation in their order.* Mentors tend not to have a lot of history, so we have to invent a backstory. Ok, so they came from rags to riches and forced their way into the Mage's Order. Then they did a bunch of cool things. Which is all fine! But by becoming a more straighforward coming of age and adventure story, it loses a lot of the pull of a prequel. 3a. I think there's room in there for the mentor to be doing cool stuff while the forces of history that create the problems their mentee will deal with are slowly moving pieces into place, but honestly that's really hard to pull off in a way i feel is satisfying.
I am thinking of this directly in contrast to villain prequels, which I think are, at least, conceptually more interesting. "what are the specific choices that led a person to become the specific villain they are in the main story" is a story i think has more meat to it than "how did a hero get their skills," if only because the second doesn't need to be attached to a specific preexisting story.
I also think that a lot of cool things in mentors' backstories are cooler if you don't see them on page - "That's Orstariy, who held the bridge at Terion, and who diced all night with a demon prince for the king's soul" is a complete story that I don't think is more fun with more elaboration, & in fact without more details lets me create the legend in my head, while showing it piece by piece would make it more ordinary.
In any case. It's not that it's impossible to write a good mentor backstory, I just feel like without a good reason to exist, they don't really capitalize on the parts of the concept of the prequel that I think are most dramatically juicy.
__ *honestly i would be pretty down for the Archwizard as mostly political office - it's not like the president of a university is the Best Scholar there
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
lgbt people need to stop thinking in terms of black and white and by that i mean stop thinking our oppression as directly analogous to the oppression of black people by white people it's not the same !
#fuck dave chapelle hope he dies broke and alone . that being said. i think this line of thinking is the reason why black and other nonwhite#people associate transness specifically with whiteness#part of the reason why anyway. because when we're trying to make direct parallels between something that is not institutional and something#that has been for hundreds of years and is ingrained into basically every facet of culture (transphobia vs antiblackness tbc)#then youre going to have cis(het) black and nonwhite people be like oh these people have no idea what theyre talking about#it's real oppression but talk about it on its own terms...#this isn't to say the two can't intersect OFC THEY DO they do very hard and very violently#i think that we pull from black liberation politics and language in the west particularly in the usa because when we say civil rights that'#the struggle we think of . The Struggle. so we try to pull from that history and current battle. and while parallels absolutely can be#formed esp because so much of lgbt history and liberation in the west is propelled by the work of black and brown trans women..#as white lgbts we need to be able to talk about our struggle in context with that without pulling unnecessary and unapplicable takeaways#from a distinct intersectional struggle that we don't face. does that make sense.#to be clear again the reason dave chapelle thinks transness is a white construct also has to do with just plain ole transmisogyny. i'm not#placing the blame entirely or even mostly on us here that would be ridiculous
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#warning: rant about parent ahead#I’m so so so so so empathetic to mental health struggles#like exceedingly so#but it’s just so exhausting being on the receiving end of someone’s self-loathing#and to be clear I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT ANYONE HERE#you are all my phone besties and I have so much empathy for your struggles and know that i love you all#and wish i could say the right thing to support you all always and you are always welcome to share whatever is going on#and to quote the bard herself i wish i could take the bombs in your head and disarm them#but when my mother gets into these moods she just seems to use it as a way to get a rise out of us#she’s pulling the ‘well maybe you don’t want to do x with me because it’s not fun because I’m a terrible person and you’re scared of me#and i ruin everything so maybe you would just rather i do everything alone’#and i don’t doubt she feels horrible and i know she has intrusive thoughts etc#but that is so manipulative!!!! she then puts the onus on us to reassure her that she is not!!!! But that is not what she wants!!!!#which we then do profusely and remind her that we do love her and we do do things together and whatever the fuck is the problem of the day#but of course she won’t hear it#so yes it makes us scared of her because we are always worried we’re going to say the wrong thing in a given moment!!!!#i just shut the fuck up at all times now#but my dad tries to use reason with her and of course it just ends in her lashing out and projecting all this shit on him#’oh you maybe you actually hate me maybe you want to leave me’ etc#THEY’VE BEEN MARRIED DECADES HE’S THE MOST LOYAL AND KINDEST PERSON IN THE WORLD HE NEVER ONCE HAS#i honestly don’t know how he lets this roll off his back because i am so fed up with it#It’s just so so so so hard because one minute she’s ‘herself’ and the other she’s this inferno#and we just have to ride whatever wave she’s on and it sucks all the air out of the room#it’s like the one and only time i tried to very gently bring up that something she said was hurtful *after she’d brought it up herself*#she went on a ‘oh I’m a terrible person/terrible parent’ rant and it then turned into me reassuring her that she isn’t#i was just trying to show her how the language/behaviour she uses was hurtful to me#so anyway that was lesson learned that even if she invites it i will never speak of it and luckily she hasn’t since and that was years ago#But it’s just… i know bad thoughts can’t be helped and again i feel so much pain on her behalf for what she struggles with#and i wish i could help but there’s absolutely nothing i can do#AND SHE’S GONE OFF ALL HER MEDS SO THE ONE SOURCE SHE DID HAVE ISN’T THERE ANYMORE EITHER
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
like hearing an autistic person talking abt realizing like "oh so friendships for some ppl don't involve always having to maintain a performance" and going damn right yeah and now "oh so friendships for some ppl involve their getting to expect that the other ppl will be interested in them and provide support" like huh go figure. more surprising like oh right i guess i always felt like interactions require maintaining a performance that can only go wrong (generally true; like there's no "well you're ruining things by keeping ppl from being the Real You so just Be Yourself" like a] masking isn't Real or done by Yourself or b] like if you unmask people like you now & ableism is over, b/c it was your fault for reacting to it in the first place) & thus also that i should be interested & provide support but not expect that in turn / the sense as well that you are/can only come up short and have things to make up for anyways while lucky whoever's even providing the time of day
then it's always an Exercise to go "oh right well beyond going [my god autistic character] the whole time, what Things re: winston billions was i still not quite seeing as as unusual / Not Good as they are. even for billions" like sure noticing he's holding on to the hopes of some kind of positive / actual relationship w/rian for like year 950 & this manifesting with the Determined Friendliness but zooming in like oh i guess that adamant amicability sure involves winston suppressing a negative reaction to negative treatment and yet still hoping for an improvement, which like, was always Possible but a) hinged on rian simply choosing to change how she regards/treats him (or someone intervening to change the situation) & b) apparently is not going to happen. thinking like yeah that's very Friendly of him. and knowing like man winston's sure still trying to keep this friendliness offer open for like two years. but also now more specifically going like Yeah and pretty fucked then that his baseline expectations don't include that Mutual Interest & Support (though someone being abusive is definitely interested just not in any good ways. and certainly not (actually) supportive)
#and then in immediate retrospect it's like I Mean I Knew It & even now to be saying it feels like i've effectively already said it#just more precise/specific Language available. & where even if it's like [restating this one idea] that's gonna say smthing new / a bit dif#winston billions#from the [immediately going HM HUH first time seeing his clips but taking months to be like He's Autistic(tm) Btw IMO] to now struggling to#say another Ay Word in discussing [he has a devoted workplace bully] as Abuse(tm) when plenty of what's abusive is considered ''normal'' or#correct or even Ideal while defining Abuse as xtreme outliers due to evil intentions & extraordinary situations (that you should avoid)#it's power structures & efforts to control & use/refuse people as things....plenty of ppl who can feel they're just acting Normal & Natural#while other ppl in entire groups Do have to perform which can only go wrong & be hurt / get that everyday trauma from their Normalcy.#those allistic social skills huh (again tldr invoking this concept just Is ableism....)#after a casual twenty plus years w/the gradual convergence of [figuring out i'm autistic] & [not blaming myself for being mistreated b/c#i'm autistic] does put a damper on expectations re: all interactions but it's like the way someone put it the other day#who hasn't said anything abt being autistic but that they don't think anyone's guaranteed any kinds of relationships/companionship incl#friendships (which i agree with; & it's not at all uncommon for ppl to be hard up for those out here. despite ppl treating socializing like#a meritocracy like hmm anyone doesn't have friends? sounds like that's on you not getting good / deserving that) & so he consciously#navigates how to like be genuinely satisfied w/a life that's just got him in it while being open to other ppl. thinking of how i've heard#abt Just That re: autistic ppl (but framed specifically re: dating; like might want a romantic relationship but ofc no one's guaranteed one#of those either (even if this too is definitely treated like in fact you Are guaranteed one & it is Again a meritocracy) And ofc there's#more barriers/hurdles for autistic ppl) & just going like yeah i've sure been always navigating that too while being open to ppl sure but#not feeling like i need that to change & sure asf not focusing on Putting Myself Out There lmao. i put myself out there by existing & by#saying things & by trying not to try to preemptively appease/appeal to anyone. seeing another quote today abt how they're nonverbal & this#results in being regarded as hostile like eugh been there enough; classic [putting myself out there] dramedy of terrors from back in the#day as a teen living on college figuratively sprinting around trying to figure it out; both the Autistacity & Abuse lol. & racking up more#of the latter for the former while i'm at it....nowadays like. certainly recent successes in [spontaneous alignments of being friends] had#to start w/like weeks into months of i'm not expecting someone else to have interest & in fact Am expecting; if nothing else; them to#realize w/e interest motivates them to talk w/me to be mistaken or w/e. as i'm struggling not to mask / beating back efforts to actively#appeal to anyone. being duly surprised when after months they still feel like talking to me. & even then just kind of entering another#phase of ''well but still'' lol like when interactions have largely felt like Buying Time at best#def on the same page as that guy like even [have friends] is not a Need. when i could go ''time to recharge socially'' & make it happen#what i like to do is go be in public '''''by myself'''' around ppl. truly the good shit. doing that kind of shit w/ppl has = nth wheeling.#now insert a short essay spinning off all this abt an approach to Language parallel to [concepts re Socializing] as tag thirty
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
my copy of Upstream arrived at 12:13pm this afternoon and I am already on page 130 of 175 (a few Post-It markers added on first pass through) I'm coming apart at the fuckin seams
#mary oliver save me mary oliver show me how to save myself etc#like i knew it was going to be a phenomenal read but oh my god im going to destroy this book i love it so#her essays are beautiful. her use of prose and language is the most wonderful dialogue with the reader. just like the poetry#but different. shifted and deeper. in the ribs. the belly. bone marrow and aching whereas the poetry sits in the throat and chest imo#also i havent read a book like this since highschool I'm trying not to think too hard about that because im not currently manic#ive been reading casually through the day when i have a moment. right now im in bed waiting for meds to kick in. things are calm#normally in the last idk ten years in order to pull this off id have to be manic of disassociative hyper fixating to manage it#and id never remember the media i was engaging with itd just be a blank space and lost time#but this? im here. im reading again. im like that kid with Maurice sendak's letter except its a book and im devouring it i love it so
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
some important calvin and hobbes facts in case you haven't read the original comic strip in a long time or only absorbed stuff on it from memes and out of context bits on here:
Calvin's last name has never been given, and neither has any of his parent's names. This was actually why his uncle Max only showed up for a brief storyline; the creator of the comic, Bill Watterson, ultimately felt that while it was fine to have him as someone for his parents to talk to, it felt far too awkward to never have Max refer to them by name and he never made a return appearance.
The general tone of the comic is fairly light-hearted, with a big emphasis on goofy slapstick comedy contrasted by clever wordplay and often surprising adult-centered jokes that'll hit you like a slap. A big part of the comedy is, as Watterson put it (paraphrased) "It's really funny to me when people express deeply stupid ideas with really fancy terminology." One notable example you might have seen is that one bit where Calvin asks his mom for money to buy a Satan-worshiping rock album and his mom replies that there's nothing genuine about them and they're just putting on the attitude for shock value, and comisserates with Calvin as he deplores that mainstream nihilism can't be trusted. He concludes that childhood is disillusioning.
There is a LOT of criticism of the extreme materialism and selfish mentality of the late 80s, when the comic was initially written. This may go a long way to explain how its aged so well; much of what it criticizes resonates well with people today.
Bill Watterson views comic strips a legitimate form of artwork, and repeatedly fought to have more space to draw more beautiful and artistic backgrounds, which was a very hard fight and unpopular even with other comic strip artists. He eventually did win some compromises and a lot of Calvin And Hobbes' artwork shows it, with the use of space to indicate time as well as a sharp contrast between the often plain environments of mundane life contrasted by the wildly beautiful imagery of Calvin's imagination (which often sports realistic depictions in an art shift of sorts).
Hobbes is explicitly not an imaginary friend, by word of Watterson himself. We don't know WHAT he is exactly, and Hobbes is apparently unaware of the strange nature of his reality; people look at him and only see an ordinary stuffed tiger plushie, but he has a tangible effect on the world that would be physically impossible for Calvin to do on his own. He's apparently been around for a while, and was apparently around when Calvin was a young baby.
On that note; Hobbes has implicitly killed (notably treated as both a gag and also with the vibe of 'he's a tiger, duh') and while he doesn't do it again on-screen, he doesn't have any moral issues about it. Calvin claims that he's never had trouble bringing Hobbes to school because the last time he did, Hobbes killed and ate a bully named Tommy Chestnut and simply comments that it was gross and he needed a bath. Calvin's tried to repeat this again, but Hobbes was grossed out at the thought having to eat a kid raw and not being allowed to use an oven first, or complaining that children are too fattening.
Hobbes became gradually less human-like in body language and more like an actual cat in both body language and behavior; this was due to Watterson drawing more inspiration from his cat, who also inspired a lot of Hobbes' running gags, such as pouncing on Calvin when he got home. Several years into the syndication of the strip, Watterson's cat passed away, and he did a tribute to her with a comic strip of the two of them agreeing to try to dream together so they can keep playing when they have to sleep; Watterson's commentary (if I recall right), remarks on his cat: "We can see each other again in dreams."
46K notes
·
View notes
Text
Wait for your love | jjk
— pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader
— genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut
— rating: 18+
— summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.
— words: 17,383
— warnings: strong language, car accident, blood, mention of pregnancy, mention of cheating, mention of divorce, mention of sex, sever injuries, mention of death, crying, mention of heartbreak, mention of breakup, oc suffers quite a lot, mention of unprotected sex, mention of fire, mention of fighting, kissing, pain struggle, tattooed!jungkook, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, praising, oc and jungkook are needy, choking, a bit of fingering, a bit of handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, morning sex, slow sex (is it even a thing?), and creampie
— author’s note: so here you finally have this fic 🤗 i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve adored writing it! To be honest, this is my fav jk that i’ve ever written 🫣I truly hope you’ll enjoy this fic as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it ✨ don’t hesitate to let me know what you think of it ❤️
— playlist: supernatural | forget about us | standing next to you | bed chem | juno
MASTERLIST
The sound of the sirens echoes in your ears.
Your eyes are completely shut, your entire body hurts, and you put your hand on your head as if you’re trying to stop the pain you’re feeling. Slowly you try to open your eyes, and you see the completely broken windshield of your car. You take a look around to notice how damaged the inside of your car is.
It’s pretty bad.
Your eyes flutter shut once more, the effort to keep them open too much to bear. Gradually, you feel yourself falling asleep. As you slip into slumber, your mind is drawn back to a painful memory — the day you gave your son up for adoption.
Being a teen mother wasn’t on your plans. Even though you really wanted to become a mother, it simply wasn’t possible then. Having a kid at sixteen wouldn’t be easy and for sure, you wouldn’t be able to offer a proper life to that kid. It wouldn’t be fair to him to keep him only because you wished to become a mother. He deserved to have a good life, to have loving parents, and to accomplish all his dreams.
On top of that, the baby was living proof that you cheated on your then-boyfriend. Definitely, you weren’t proud of yourself. The father of your baby was a bit of a jerk, but, when he found out about your pregnancy, he showed nothing but support. It was surprising, but it felt great to have him by your side.
Giving your son up for adoption was devastatingly hard. But it was the best for him. After that, you spent the last sixteen years wondering what he had become. Every boy you met that’d match his age; you’d wonder if it was him. And sometimes, you’d regret abandoning him. In those moments, crying was the only solution.
As hard as possible, you resist the urge to fall asleep, but the headache is making this battle hard to fight.
“Ma'am,” you hear a distant voice.
Those words echo in your mind, and strangely, it feels like this voice is a familiar one. The pain must be causing some hallucination, you think. But as hard as you can, you try to find out who could be the owner of that voice.
While you think, your eyes open a bit before closing again. Your hand remains on your head, and suddenly, you remember who it is. It is the father of your firstborn.
As you realize who it might be, you shake your head. It’s impossible to be him. After the birth of your baby, you went separate ways and never heard of him anymore. Sometimes, you hope to meet him again to check what he has become.
That man was handsome as hell so you’re absolutely sure that he found someone, got married, and had children. From time to time, you think about him and wonder if he also thinks about your baby as much as you do. Maybe he doesn’t since you’re convinced he has new children to think of.
But that’s silly of you to think that because after your firstborn, you had three other adorable children: two girls, Jia and Jiwoo, and a little boy, Jeong. Being their mother and caring about them never made you forget about your first.
On top of being a mother, you also got married to Minkyu. You met him three years after giving birth, and you were convinced he was the love of your life. However, you ended up divorcing after eight years of marriage. It wasn’t easy, you felt like a total failure. Now, you’re living on your own, sharing custody of your three babies with your ex-husband. Luckily, you remained on good terms, you’d even say you’re friends now.
For the past two years, you’ve been focusing on yourself which means no relationships. But that doesn’t exclude one-night stands. You’re very careful as you don’t want your children to one day stumble upon one of the guys you’ve been fucking with. And you also want to avoid getting pregnant again.
When you planned on stopping the pill to have a child with Minkyu, your gynecologist told you that you seemed to be the fertile type. She was quite right since you got pregnant right after stopping the pill. In three years, you had three kids. So, it explains it all. And it also explains how you easily got pregnant at sixteen, the only time you didn’t use protection.
Now, you’re wondering if this is how your life ends. You’ve last seen your kids four days ago, you’re probably never going to fall in love again, and you’re never going to see your firstborn. This is a tragic way to die. Your mind only thinks about your babies.
Although your mind feels disconnected from your body, you sense a pair of strong arms lifting you up. Your body is completely sore, and even being held in someone’s arms is painful. The person is talking to you, or at least talking to someone but your brain doesn’t process the words at all.
Then, the pain knocks you up.
Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.
There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.
His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.
When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.
It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.
“Ma’am,” he says with urge.
Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.
“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”
She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.
You’re in pretty bad shape.
There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body. Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.
Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury. His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.
“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”
A tear streams down his face as Jungkook begins to run. “Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles when he realizes that you’ve now fallen asleep. “Help me here,” he shouts to some paramedics.
Two people run in his direction with a stretcher, and he carefully places you there. His eyes never leave you until you’re placed inside an ambulance.
Never did he think he’d find you like this. For the past sixteen years, he imagined the many ways he’d stumble upon you. He thought of meeting you randomly one day in the streets, in a shop, or even in a restaurant. Meeting you after a car crash wasn’t on his mind at all.
Jungkook then proceeds to take care of the other people stuck in their cars. His job isn’t over yet, other people are waiting for his help. Thankfully enough, after so many years of experience, he’s able to focus on what he has to do.
Slowly, you open your eyes. Instinctively, you place your hand on your head since you last remember having a headache, but it doesn’t hurt—at least not anymore. For a brief moment, you close your eyes again while trying to understand what happened.
Once you open your eyes once more, you look around to realize that you’re lying on a hospital bed. You’re in a room, an individual one. Although you’re alone in a room, can hear many people talking outside.
In the midst of all the noise, you distinguish your sister’s voice. You can’t really understand what she’s saying but she seems worried. Somebody is talking to her, but you don’t recognize the voice. After a little while, your sister opens the door to join you.
A smile appears on her face when she sees you awake. “Yn,” she says before hugging you. You wrap your arms around her, she’s holding you tight. There’s no need for her to speak for you to understand she was dead worried. It also leaves you wondering if you’re really in a bad situation. When she finally takes a step back, you can see how worried she is.
“I was death worried,” she says. “I thought you died.”
Those words crunch your heart. The simple thought of picturing your sister thinking that is heartbreaking. However, you’re still here. Maybe not in your best shape but you’re still alive.
“Death was too afraid of me,” you jokingly say.
“It’s not funny,” she’s definitely annoyed that you’re joking. “It’s very bad, yn.”
Her eyes don’t betray her, it doesn’t look great. For sure, it’s bad since you remember seeing your car completely destroyed. Memories of the car crash come back. It happened quite fast. The car in front of you didn’t notice the car on the left. Two vehicles in front of you suddenly collided with each other. Due to the small distance and minimal reaction time, you were unable to stop in time, which led to you colliding into the cars. The same happened to the cars behind colliding into you.
“Two people died in the crash, yn, and the doctors didn’t give me many details when they called me,” she explains.
“How long have I been here?” you ask.
It leaves you wondering how long it has been since the car crash happened.
“Almost two days,” she informs.
“Oh,” you simply say.
Your sister then proceeds to explain to you that you went through a couple of surgeries.
When you arrived, you had a glass shoved into your stomach and it caused some damage. You were bleeding internally so you first had surgery to remove the glass and stitch any part of your intestines that needed to be repaired.
On top of that, your knees were destroyed and a part of your hips was broken. So after the stomach surgery, you went through a long surgery to repair your knees, and later on, another one to repair your hips.
Your sister doesn’t know the specificities of the surgeries, but those surgeries are already a lot. She also tells you that you evidently have bruises and scratches all over your body. It definitely sounds bad, but you’re under the influence of painkillers so you don’t really feel anything so far.
“Where are Jia, Jiwoo, and Jeong?” you ask looking around.
“Minkyu took them back home a couple of hours ago,” she tells you.
If your sister was dead worried, you can’t even start to imagine how your kids were feeling. You have such a strong bond with them, and they are still so young; your little Jiwoo is only four years old. You don’t even doubt that they started imagining the worst.
“How are they?” you ask.
“As you can imagine, it’s been harder for them than for anyone else,” your heart aches. “They’ve been crying a lot.”
You close your eyes, holding back the tears. It breaks your heart to have put your babies through this. Even though it’s far from being your fault, you never want to hurt your babies like that. Your role as a mother is to protect them.
“We’ve all been there for them,” she adds.
A tear runs down your face.
“Don’t worry, big sis,” she says before hugging you once more. “They’ll be so happy to see you fully awake.”
You hold her tight in your embrace to comfort you in some kind of way. For a little while, you both stay like this.
“There’s been a firefighter coming to visit you every day,” she whispers in your ear. “A handsome one, actually.”
A little giggle escapes your lips.
“Stop saying nonsense,” you give her a little tap.
She takes a step back with the brightest smile on her face.
“I’m very serious, yn,” she says. “The firefighter that saved you has been coming to check up on you.”
Well, it sounds like he’s kind of adorable. It’s definitely very sweet of him to take the time to check up on you after saving your life.
“He’s extremely hot too,” she adds.
“Stop it,” you say. “You’re exaggerating!”
“I am not!” she instantly replies. “You’ll see when he comes.”
You roll your eyes. She’s definitely unbelievable as always, but she’s your sister. You love her beyond comprehension because she was your very first baby. You have a ten-year gap and you’ve been taking care of her since the very first minute she was born. Your parents had her very late; they were almost 40 years old but the happiest.
When you were around two, they started trying to have a second child. However, it didn’t go as planned. Your mother suffered two miscarriages and after that, it became even harder to have a child. Eventually, when you were around eight, they gave up. They were happy to have you and settled with the idea that you’d be an only child.
But against all odds, a year later, she got pregnant. The pregnancy went to full term, and that’s how you became a big sister.
The gap between you was harder around your teenage years. All you were thinking about was boys, and all she wanted was to play. She also wanted to have a younger sibling, but your parents were already too old for that. Your mum said that she couldn’t handle another big age gap between her kids.
Your sister was the happiest when you announced your pregnancy at sixteen. She was only six back then, and that baby would have been like the little sibling she always desired to have. She was devastated when you explained to her that you wouldn’t keep the baby. Your parents were too but they understood and supported your decision.
Outside your parents, nobody ever knew that Jungkook was the father of your first son. At first, your ex-boyfriend thought that he was the father, that maybe a condom broke and that’s how you got pregnant. But you always knew that he wasn’t the father. It simply wasn’t possible. It all got confirmed when you birthed a baby that looked a lot like Jungkook.
You still remember how heartbroken your ex was, and you couldn’t blame him. The breakup was too hard to handle back then so you never told anyone who the father was, except for Jungkook. He deserved to know the truth. You weren’t expecting much from him as he was the basketball star of your school team. And above anything else, he was a complete jerk.
Nevertheless, he proved you wrong when he supported you. He was by your side for the entirety of the pregnancy. He came to all the ultrasounds and gynecologist's appointments. He was there, and he completely stopped being a jerk to your eyes. Eventually, you became closer, but you refused to be more than friends even though you had strong feelings for him.
Why?
Because it’d be too hard to stay with him after giving up your son for adoption. Jungkook was also supposed to leave for one of the best colleges after that. It was in another city, and you knew he’d stay if you dated. You refused to let him give up his dreams for you. You broke his heart; you could see it in his eyes, but it was for the best. If you were meant to be, you’d find your way back. But it never happened. After that, you completely lose contact.
There’s a knock on the door. Your sister proceeds to open it, letting the person come in. “Speaking of the devil,” she turns her head to look at you with the brightest smile on her face.
When the famous live-savior firefighter enters, the entire world completely freezes. The firefighter is none other than Jungkook. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet. After all these years, you finally see him again.
A smile spreads on his face when he sees you awake. You can tell that he’s relieved. For an instant, you take a proper look at him. He’s still wearing his firefighter uniform, indicating that he most probably came from a mission — if that’s the correct word to use. His hair is very short and a tiny bit messy. Above anything else, he absolutely looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes betraying him.
“Hi,” he simply says as he takes a step inside.
“Hi, Jungkook,” you reply.
Your sister is at first taken aback by the fact that you know his name, but as she takes a proper look at your facial expressions, she can tell that you know him.
“I’ll leave you two,” she says before disappearing.
“How are you feeling?” he asks while getting closer.
“I guess fine for now, but not sure, how I’ll feel when the painkillers will no longer have any effects.”
His eyes scan your face while yours do the same. His beauty is still breathtaking; you’d even say that he aged like fine wine.
“Thanks for rescuing me from the car crash,” you add.
“No need to thank me,” he instantly replies. “It’s part of my job.”
“I still need to. Without you, I wouldn’t be here today.”
Even though it’s part of his job, he saved you, and he deserves to be thanked for that. You would have said it to any other firefighter.
“It’s good to see you awake,” he says.
There is so much you want to say to him, but at the same time, now that you have him in front of you, you don’t even know what to say.
“I just quickly passed by to check up on you,” he informs you. “I need to get back to work.”
“No problems,” you reply. “Thanks for coming.”
“Would you mind if I come back later?” he nervously asks.
Your heart is now racing in your chest. Of course, you want him to come back so you get to catch up and find out how he went from basketball player to firefighter.
“No, I wouldn’t mind,” a little smile appears on your face.
“Thanks,” he says before waving goodbye and leaving your room.
Seconds later, your sister storms inside your room. She has that expression on her face that says: ‘who the hell is this guy?’.
“Who is he?” she asks while taking a seat.
She’s definitely expecting to hear something like: “he’s a guy I slept with after my breakup”, or “I met him at a bar”, or anything of that sort because it was obvious there was something going on between you. The look you both had wasn’t saying we were simply friends. It was a look screaming “something hot and sexy happened between us”.
“The guy that knocked me up sixteen years ago.”
“Mama,” your oldest daughter, Jia says. “When are you leaving the hospital?”
An hour ago, the doctor in charge of you came to explain the extent of the situation to you. Since you now have metal wires in your knees, you’ll have to go through a long recovery, and you’ll have to follow physiotherapy to learn how to walk again.
On top of that, your intestines were stitched, and it will definitely be hard for a moment to eat and drink. So, for at least ten days, you’ll remain in observation at the hospital. There is for sure a very long recovery ahead of you, but what matters is that you’re still alive.
For what is coming, you know you can count on your family’s support, and without any doubts, seeing your babies will help you navigate the hard times. Obviously, you’re also very self-aware that sometimes, it might be too hard, and during those times, even your support system won’t be enough.
“I’ll stay for a little while, boo,” you answer.
She seems a bit sad by your answer which is totally understandable. Briefly, you take a look at Jiwoo and Jeong to see if they also look sad, and they have the exact same facial expression as their older sister.
Your ex-husband, Minkyu is also present. It’s logical since it’s his week with them, and also because you were literally in a coma. When your eyes meet, you give him a little smile. By the way he’s looking at you, he definitely seems worried.
“But you’ll see, time will go by super-fast,” you try to reassure them. “And very soon, I’ll be home with you.”
You can’t wait to go home and be with them even though for a little while, due to the recovery time, it won’t be easy at all. But you’ll be with your babies which honestly is the only thing that matters.
Your babies jump on the bed and hug you. Feeling all this love coming from the little human beings you create warms your heart beyond comprehension. Although the pain is starting to kick in, you pretend like you don’t feel anything because you want to savor this moment with them.
Jeong, your son, shows you what he drew at school for you. He takes the time to explain what it represents. It’s definitely adorable. Then, Jiwoo tells you how her day went by. She played a lot with her friends, she learned to count until 20, and her teacher told her she was an amazing learner. Her face was shining, and you couldn’t be prouder.
Your oldest daughter doesn’t speak much, letting her younger siblings talk. You then try to make her talk about her day, but she bursts into tears, hiding her face in your chest. Your heart definitely breaks while you hold her in your arms.
“What happened, boo?” you caress her back, trying to comfort her as much as you can.
She’s heavily crying, your shirt getting wet with her tears.
“My little boo-boo,” you whisper. “What’s going on?” you add. “Tell me.”
She hugs you even more which squeezes your heart. You don’t like seeing your babies like that.
“I thought you were dead, mommy,” she sniffs.
“Oooh, my boo-boo,” you really want to cry at her words. Imagining her thinking that is one thing but hearing her saying it out loud is something completely different. “I’m so sorry.” That’s all you can say.
Jiwoo and Jeong join the hug, trying in their own way to comfort their big sister. This is a heartwarming hug, and it comforts you beyond comprehension. It’s hard to see them like that, but it’ll get better with time. Minkyu joins you for what is like a family hug now. This right here is the only thing that you need.
After this uplifting moment, your ex-husband and babies leave you alone in this cold hospital room. They need to go back home; the kids need to wash, do their homework, and get ready for bed. You wish they could have stayed longer because you don’t want to stay alone.
The pain is now unbearable, and it honestly scares you for the long recovery awaiting you. Luckily, right after your family left, a nurse came in to give you dinner together with strong painkillers.
The food is —as imagined— disgusting. There’s nothing you can do about it, but tomorrow, you’ll try to convince your sister to bring you a pizza or sushi or some fast food. There’s no way you’ll survive ten days with this horrible food.
A little later, someone knocks at the door. As promised earlier, Jungkook appears inside your room with a bright smile on his face. You return the smile as it honestly makes you happy that he’s here.
“Hi,” you say.
For a brief moment, your eyes linger on his figure. He’s no longer in his firefighter uniform; he’s dressed in an all-black outfit that, in all honesty, suits him well. A pair of jeans, a tight shirt, and a leather jacket give him an entirely different vibe from earlier. His hair, now perfectly arranged, makes him look strikingly similar to how he did sixteen years ago.
“Hi,” he walks closer to you.
His eyes notice the serving tray with the empty plate.
“Was it good?” he points to the empty plate.
“It definitely wasn’t,” a little laugh escapes your lips while you shake your head. “The good thing is that the dessert was a chocolate mousse.”
Jungkook’s smile grows bigger on his face.
“Your favorite dessert,” he whispers.
Now, you’re the one smiling more. When pregnant, you could eat a chocolate mousse without growing tired of it. Due to that, you gained quite some weight during your first pregnancy. Anyway, it was the least of your concerns since you knew you were about to give your son up for adoption.
“You still remember…”
“How couldn’t I?” he instantly says. “You were eating it night and day.”
You giggle as you remember it.
“You weren’t helping too,” you accuse him. “Whenever I’d ask for one, you’d make it, and you’re a good cooker.”
Jungkook was your personal chef. Whatever dish you’d ask for, he’d prepare it. His mousses were so delicious that you found yourself always craving them. The ones from the supermarket simply couldn’t compare to Jungkook’s.
“Well, for my defense, I couldn’t let a pregnant woman starve,” he puts his hands up.
It doesn’t feel like sixteen years happened since you last spoke. It’s great you found each other again. It wasn’t under great circumstances, but he’s here now.
“That was nice of you,” you gently say.
“Do you mind if I take a seat?” he points to the chair near your bed.
“No, no,” you shake your head.
Jungkook sits down before turning to you. He’s incredibly close now, allowing you to get a better look at him. He’s definitely gotten older, the wrinkles on his face can’t lie. The beginning of a beard is also easily noticeable.
“How bad does it hurt?” he seriously asks.
“Is it that obvious?” you say.
Jungkook nods. Honestly, this time around the painkillers aren’t helping much. Your entire body aches, you can’t even say which part hurts more.
“It’s pretty bad,” you answer. “Even with the painkillers now, it hurts like hell.”
“If you want, I can call a nurse,” he suggests.
“No, it’s fine,” you answer. “I’ll probably need to wait a bit more before it really takes effect.”
Jungkook doesn’t really listen to you since he leaves the room. You roll your eyes but with a big smile on your face. It’s incredible how he didn’t change after all these years. He used to never believe you when you were in pain.
A few seconds later, he comes back with a nurse. They are talking, and he’s explaining that I’m in extreme pain. He’s exaggerating a bit the reality. However, the nurse administers you a stronger painkiller and she also tells you that you shouldn’t hesitate to call her if you’re suffering. Then, she leaves. Slowly, you’re finally feeling the pain going away.
“You didn’t need to do that,” you tell him once the nurse leaves the room.
“Yes, I needed,” he instantly says. “There’s no way I was leaving you suffering unnecessarily.”
Jungkook seems definitely concerned.
“You don’t have to play the strong girl after this terrible car crash.”
He’s not wrong, but this is one of your flaws. You’ll only take a painkiller unless you don’t have much of a choice. Most of the time, you don’t take anything as you’re convinced you can handle anything.
You simply nod while Jungkook sits again on the chair. This time, you start talking about what has been going on in your lives for the past sixteen years.
Jungkook barely managed to finish his college years because he honestly had his mind somewhere else. After all, he had become a father, given his son up for adoption, and had his heart broken by the girl he always had a crush on. He didn’t mention the last part. He had tremendous regrets about how everything went down.
Right after college, he became a firefighter; a passion he randomly discovered the summer before. Saving lives, and helping others in need is what truly fulfills him. He considers his job as his own therapy even though it’s not always easy to deal with the horrific visions he might encounter.
Eight years ago, he met a French girl who had recently moved here. They fell in love and had a little boy, Noah. He’s four years old today; the same age as your youngest daughter. His eyes were filled with love when he started speaking about him. He said his boy is a mini version of his mother so he barely looks Korean. He even has blue eyes.
However, he’s no longer with her. They broke up three years ago and they aren’t really on good terms today. She already threatened to move back to France with Noah. They went through a tough legal battle for their son’s custody. It’s a shared one, and Jungkook’s parents are the intermediates between them. They pick up Noah at her place to bring him to Jungkook’s, and vice versa.
It honestly broke your heart to hear about all that. It doesn’t seem to be an easy situation, and hearing his story makes you feel even more grateful for the good relationship you maintain with Minkyu.
Then, you proceed to tell him about what your life has looked like for the past sixteen years.
“Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about our son,” you honestly say.
Four months ago, on the 2nd of June to be precise, your son turned sixteen. He’s the age you were when you gave birth to him. Since that day, you’ve definitely been wondering what he has become. Is he also about to become a father? You hope not.
“Well, I always think about him, but lately, it’s been more than usual,” you explain. “And I also imagine him with my other kids, and I wonder what bond they’d have.”
Jungkook only nods. “I get that,” those are his only words.
You refrain from continuing to talk about your son as it seems to affect him in some way. Maybe it’s simply too hard for him to think about that son you didn’t keep. You understand that so you prefer to stop talking. But his next words definitely catch you by surprise.
“I’ve found our son.”
Seventeen years ago
As you step inside the pretty big basketball court, your eyes immediately look for a place to sit. There aren’t many people watching the team’s training. You place yourself in the very last row, almost as if you’re trying to hide yourself —or to hide your little secret.
Instinctively, your eyes look for Jungkook, the best basketball player. He’s the reason for your presence. Quickly, you take a look at your watch. The training should be over soon.
Your heart is beating crazily in your chest. What you have to tell him isn’t easy, especially since you don’t really know what to do. You’re actually even convinced that he’ll tell you to fuck off. Jungkook is known to be a jerk after all.
The man notices you while running in the court. His eyebrows frown, as you’re the last person he was expecting to see here. The past month has been hectic because things have been hot and cold with you. For a while already, he has been having a massive crush on you, but he’s never said anything because you’re in a relationship with Minho.
Even though he’s known to be an asshole, he never wanted to be the reason for your separation. However, last month, you had sex, and you’ve been feeling guilty since then. He can only understand you so he’s stayed away to give you the space you need. Nevertheless, you would sometimes interact and to his surprise, you’d be nice.
“Jungkook,” someone screams.
He grabs the ball that is thrown at him, and he’s focused again on the game. The end comes rapidly. Jungkook walks directly in your direction and you give him a little smile. As he gets closer, he instantly notices the sadness in your eyes. He sits down next to you with heavy breathing. His face is red, his hair is wet, and he’s all sweaty.
“Hi,” he says with a smile.
“Hi,” you reply.
Deep down, he’s kind of hoping you’re here to tell him that you’ve broken up with Minho. That’s all he’s ever wanted, especially since he slept with you.
“How are you?” he asks with evident concern.
“Not good,” you bite your lower lip, tears already forming in your eyes.
Jungkook directly pushes you into his arms to comfort you. Tears stream down your face while you hold him tight in your embrace. You hold him as if your world depends on it. Quickly, you start sobbing which breaks Jungkook’s heart. He’s definitely worried now, especially since he would have never imagined you coming to cry into his arms. He gently rubs your back in silence, letting you cry in peace.
This scene seems unreal to him.
After a little while, you take a step back to clean your face, dabbing at the tears that seem to not stop. You’re sure you look like a complete mess right now with your red eyes, face ravaged with tears, and trembling hands. Jungkook is staring at you, his gaze filled with heavy unspoken words.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“Don’t worry,” he replies.
Jungkook tugs a strand of hair behind your ear.
“It’s not easy what I have to say,” you admit.
“It’s okay,” he gently says. “Take your time.”
Jungkook has never been a jerk with you. He’s definitely a tease, and he’s been teasing you for months now. But he has never been mean or rude. Even though it’s been quite obvious to you that he was flirting with you all this time, he’s been nothing but respectful and never crossed the line.
But that was until you couldn’t resist him anymore.
Obviously, he’s a very handsome guy and it flattered you a lot that he was interested in you. However, you’re in a relationship with Minho. He’s been your boyfriend for a couple of months, and you adore him. But Jungkook has shaken everything up. It was obvious that one day you would surrender to temptation.
Jungkook is very good in bed, there’s no doubt about it. Your one-night stand was a memorable one, but you’ve felt nothing but guilt since then. And you also hate yourself. How could you have done that to Minho? He’s been nothing but an angel to you. You clearly don’t deserve him.
“I’m pregnant,” you admit.
Jungkook’s body freezes completely. Of all the things he was expecting to hear, this definitely wasn’t one of them. This is quite a bombshell! This will forever change your life, and he can only sympathize with you. Now, it leaves him wondering if he’s the father.
“Is it Minho’s?” he asks after a couple of seconds. “Or mine?”
“It’s yours,” you inform him.
Although this is a piece of very destabilizing news, he kind of feels proud to be the father of your child. It’s a weird feeling but the chances of him being the father are quite low since you’re in a relationship.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
“Of course, I am,” you almost sound offended. “I always use protection with Minho,” you whisper. “And if you remember correctly, we didn’t.”
“Right,” he nods.
You were so in the heat that a condom was the last thing you both thought of, but you used the pullout method. Looks like it wasn’t the brightest idea. It would have been best if you had been more careful. Now it’s too late to go back in time. Now, there’s a baby on the way.
“I’m so scared to tell him,” you admit.
Tears start running down your face again.
“What will I become now?” you add. “My life is ruined.”
Jungkook cleans your face because he doesn’t like to see you in this state.
“Your life isn’t ruined, yn,” his thumb caresses your cheek.
“How can’t it be ruined?” you desperately say. “I’m pregnant; I'll give birth in less than nine months. My life will all be about that baby, I’ll have to drop school, and I’ll have to be a parent when I’m still a kid.”
The man in front of you can only understand your despair. His life will also drastically change from now on. Most probably, he’ll also need to give up on his dream college to work and provide for this baby.
“I’m here, and we will find a solution,” he whispers. “You’re not alone.”
You shake your head. There’s no way you’ll find a solution. It is simple: there’s a baby on the way, and outside that, there’s the whole situation where you cheated on your boyfriend.
“And Minho will be completely heartbroken,” you start crying even more. “Out of all people, he’s the one that doesn’t deserve that!”
Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. For sure, it isn’t great to cheat on your partner, but he knows he’s very much capable of doing it without having any remorse. He’s perfectly aware that he isn’t the greatest guy on earth when it comes to love. Even though he has a crush on you, he isn’t convinced he’d be the right one for you.
“My life is destroyed,” you repeat once more.
The basketball player pulls you once again in his embrace. His strong arms are comforting, and you realize now that you did great by coming to talk to him.
“We’ll find a solution,” he whispers in your ear.
Little did you know at that moment that he was right. A week later, you both agreed to give your son up for adoption. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the best one. You could feel it inside your bones.
From your room’s window, you admire the landscape that stretches before your eyes. The view isn’t the prettiest but at least, it’s something different than the tv. For the past three days, you could only be lying and sitting on your bed. It’s been horrible.
Jungkook has been coming every day to check up on you, and you’ve been talking a lot. It’s honestly so great to reunite again and to finally discover what he has become for the past years.
Your sister has been very curious about your reunion with the father of your firstborn. She also asked if Minkyu ever knew about him. You never hid from your ex-husband the existence of your first child, but you never told him who the father was. There was no need to do so.
Your sister informed your parents who saved you, and they already saw him again. They really liked him when you were pregnant, so they were very happy to meet him again.
Jungkook didn’t tell them that he found your firstborn, and you’re grateful he didn’t because you don’t even know what to do. You asked him to give you some time to process the information. He’s been nothing but respectful.
This morning, you started walking for the first time since the surgery. It was beyond painful to even move one leg, but you bear with the pain of walking a little bit. Since the first day, you’ve been having physiotherapy sessions to help with the recovery. At first, the sessions only consisted of moving your legs while remaining in bed. Now, you get to walk a bit.
The physiotherapist handed you a cane today. It’s incredibly glamorous!
The good side is that you can now move from the bed to the chair more easily. You obviously still need a lot of help, but it gives you a bit more freedom.
Slowly, you try to stand up as you need to go to the bathroom. Right there, someone knocks at the door before entering. You expect to see the nurse since you call for her, but you’re surprised to see Jungkook. As he notices you struggling to get up, he rushes to help you out.
“Shouldn’t you be asking for the nurse to help you?” he asks.
“The nurse should be coming,” you reply.
“Is it okay if I place my hands on your waist?” you shake your head.
His hands instantly reach your waist, holding you firmly while you stand up with shaky legs. Feeling his presence around you reassures you, especially with his strong arms holding you. Your eyes quickly glance at him when you’re proudly standing up, and he looks incredibly hot with his red cheeks and messy hair.
At this precise moment, you feel like your teenage self, who was deeply attracted to him. The version of yourself who had deeply fallen in love with him when you were pregnant. That nostalgic feeling kind of warms your heart.
“I’m happy to see you finally out of that bed,” a smile spreads on his face when your eyes meet.
His stare is softer now, and it’s evident that he truly means what he just said.
“Me too,” you admit. “Couldn’t stand being on that bed anymore,” you laugh a little. “It’s been driving me crazy.”
The nurse finally arrives, but she instantly leaves as you inform her that Jungkook is helping you.
At a very slow pace, you start walking in the bathroom’s direction. Jungkook stands next to you, his hands very close to you, ready to catch you any minute.
“I’ve been thinking,” you start saying as you put your right foot in front of the other.
“About?” he asks.
It’s extremely frustrating to be walking as fast as a turtle, but there’s not much you can do right now. You have brand-new knees, so you need to learn to walk with them, which will take some time. Plus, you also need to adjust to the pain these new knees cause.
“About our baby,” you answer.
Jungkook is taken a bit aback; he wasn’t expecting you to bring the topic up this early.
“About Sunny,” you add.
Sunny is the nickname you gave to your son. Neither you nor Jungkook wanted to give him a name, as you knew it’d be too heartbreaking to let him go. The nickname came naturally, and it gave your son a human dimension. When you were pregnant, it almost didn’t feel real that there was a human inside you since you couldn’t see him.
A little smile appears on his face as he remembers how you used to call your firstborn.
“I’d like to hear the story of how you found him.”
For the past sixteen years, you’ve dreamed of meeting your son one day, but it was just a dream. You never thought that it’d actually happen. Obviously, you could have done everything in your power to find him, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. However, you’re now curious to hear how Jungkook found him.
“Well, maybe you should go first to the bathroom because there’s a lot to be said,” you simply nod.
Jungkook is wearing his firefighter uniform, and it suits him incredibly well. It definitely shows off his toned chest which could satisfy any hungry eyes, like yours, for example. Any lady would like to be saved by him.
Once you arrive at the bathroom, he waits outside for you. It takes you a bit of time to pee, wash your hands, and leave the room. It’s painful too, and all you hope for is to go through this terrible phase as fast as possible.
The firefighter helps you to sit on the chair, and his kindness warms your heart. No doubt that he makes a great life savior.
“So, tell me about Sunny,” you say the second you’re comfortably sitting.
Jungkook takes another chair to face you, and he rests his arms on the little table placed in between you.
“I found him to same way I found you,” he looks down at his hands with a little smile on his face. “I was called for a fire in a building complex almost two years ago,” he starts explaining. “It was early in the morning, something like 6 am, and it was a pretty big fire. There was a fourteen-year-old lying on the floor, coughing like crazy so I naturally took him out of the building.”
Jungkook takes a little break, his eyes going from his hands to your eyes. His stare is intense; it unsettles you at first.
“Once outside, I almost felt like I was looking at you and myself at the same time,” his voice is soft. “And one of my colleagues even said that the kid oddly resembled me.”
You can’t imagine how it must have felt for him.
“I instantly knew it was Sunny, but I kind of didn’t want to believe it,” his eyes clearly show how sad he feels. “If it wasn’t him, it would have broken me. I was already going through shit with my ex, so it wasn’t an easy time for me at that time.”
It’s visibly not easy for him to be talking about the situation with his ex-girlfriend.
“A couple of days later, he appeared at the station with his mother to thank me for saving him. In the daylight, it was more than obvious we shared DNA. Even a blind person could see the striking resemblance, but nobody said a word as if we were all scared to say the truth.”
“That must have been an unbelievable moment,” you whisper.
“It definitely was,” he chuckles. “But looking back now, it’s almost funny. I still remember how shocked his mother was when she first saw me. Sunny looked confused, but his mother’s reaction was extremely funny.”
It eases your heart to know that he looks back at that moment with delight.
“The day after, she came back but alone this time because she wanted to talk to me.”
His right hand grabs one of your fingers to play with it, causing your heart to hammer crazily in your chest. Jungkook is incredibly nervous to be talking about those moments, and he needs to look at something else than you.
“As you can imagine, she asked me if I was his biological father, and all I could tell her was that I wasn’t sure. I then proceeded to tell her that I had a son at seventeen and that we gave him up for adoption. She naturally asked me when he was born, and then, there weren’t any doubts anymore. He was undoubtedly Sunny,” a smile full of pride appears on his face. “I’ve been in contact with him since then, but I don’t force anything. I’m just happy to see him.”
For a moment, you look at him with wonder. This man is evidently happy to have found his firstborn and to be able to be part of his life. Jungkook didn’t really want to give his son up for adoption, and you knew it. For a long time, you considered changing your mind because it was obvious that he wanted to be a father. Even though you were in love with him, adoption wasn’t about you or him. It was about Sunny.
That baby boy deserved to have a good life. Not a chaotic one where you regretted having him because he was the impersonation of your sin, or because he destroyed your life as you became a teen mom. You weren’t able to give him what he needed, and it was the best decision to have a family giving him what you couldn’t.
“What’s his name?” you ask.
Right now, you don’t know if you ever want to meet your son. It already brings you so much joy to know he found his biological father. But you’re also wondering what his name is. He has always been ‘Sunny’ to you.
“Taemoo,” he answers.
That’s a pretty name. His parents found the perfect name for that little boy.
“It’s beautiful,” you say.
“Not as pretty as Sunny,” he jokingly says.
Your fingers wrap around his right hand. This is a vulnerable moment for both of you. It brings you back to a past where you were confronted with a harsh reality. Nothing was easy back then. You were ripped between your hearts and minds. The heart wanted to keep Sunny, but the mind was being realistic.
The tears shed from the day you had to give him up still haunt you to this day. The heartbreak painted all over Jungkook’s face never leaves your mind. That day was the hardest day of your entire life; it ripped your heart open.
“Do you think there was a possibility we could have kept him?” you ask with a shaky voice.
His eyes look up at you.
“Maybe,” he frankly answers. “If we weren’t that young and stupid, we could have been the parents he needed.”
“I definitely was stupid,” you shake your head.
“You weren’t,” he says without any hesitation. “You made a mistake, but that doesn’t make you stupid.”
“Say that to Minho,” you retort.
Jungkook giggles.
“I would never approach him, even now,” that makes you smile. “My face still hurts from his punch.”
After the pregnancy announcement to your ex-boyfriend, it was pure chaos. Minho went completely out of control due to his heartbreak. Obviously, he insisted on knowing who the father was, but you never flinched. Nonetheless, he instantly understood that it was Jungkook. He had noticed how he was constantly teasing you.
So, the first thing he did was punch Jungkook in the face. The basketball player didn’t even fight back as he believed he deserved it. After all, he slept with a taken woman with absolutely no regrets.
Minho got even angrier because he wanted the player to respond. He was devastated by what happened, and you could only understand him. The day after, he went to another high school, and you never heard from him anymore.
“To be honest, yn,” he starts saying. “Back then, there wasn’t a possibility to keep him. My soul wanted to keep him, but it was for selfish reasons. I wanted to be a father but couldn’t be one back then. There isn’t a day where I don’t feel grateful for the tough decision you took and stand for. It would have been a complete disaster.”
His hand squeezes yours, and just right there, with his words and touch, you just burst into tears. Those tears just came by total surprise, but deep down, those are the tears you’ve been holding back for sixteen years. Hearing about your son and remembering the harsh moments you faced when he was inside you caused reality to hit you right in the face.
Jungkook instantly pushes the table aside to hold you in his embrace. You place your face on the crook of his neck while your arms wrap around him. It feels like you’re brought back to seventeen years ago when you announced your pregnancy.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.
“Don’t be sorry,” he responds. “You’re going through a lot now.”
There are some words Jungkook is dying to tell you, but it’s definitely not the appropriate moment. This is already shaking you up, so no need to add an extra layer.
Taemoo would like to meet you; it’s been actually one of his dreams. Jungkook has already told him a million things about you, and your son has been beyond happy to hear all those things about you. He also got to see a picture of you when you were sixteen.
So Jungkook definitely wants to tell you that Taemoo would like to meet you, but he doesn’t know if this is the right time, especially since he doesn’t know how you’ll react.
“Sometimes I regret so much that I gave him up,” you honestly say. “Sometimes it’s just unbearable to remember the day I handed him over to the adoption center.”
His strong hands caress your back in an attempt to comfort you.
“It’s normal,” he whispers. “I do too,” he admits. “There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about his birth and when we said our last goodbyes to him.”
You hold him tightly, his strong arms comforting you in an unbelievable way. You don’t want to let go of him. All you want is to cry in his arms until there aren’t any tears left.
“We did well, yn,” he tells you. “Sunny has been having a wonderful life. A life that we could have never given him,” he tries to reassure you. “His parents love him so much, allowed him to follow his dreams, and gave him everything he ever needed.”
As he got to meet Taemoo and his adoptive parents, he can reassure you now.
“They are adorable people,” he adds. “And they’ve been taking good care of our Sunny.”
Jungkook spent most of his life wondering if good people adopted his son, and he would have hated himself if it wasn’t the case. But when he got to meet Taemoo’s parents, he saw how great they were. And above anything, he saw how great they raised him. Taemoo is a wonderful kid with a wonderful soul.
Hearing those words definitely reassures you. It comforts you that Sunny has been doing well and landed in a loving family. At the end of the day, that’s all you ever wanted for your baby.
“Thanks,” you whisper.
The firefighter smiles while holding you a bit tighter. For a little while, you stay like this without saying a word. Reuniting with Jungkook is the best thing that happens in the midst of all the chaos your life has become. It also allows you to think about something else other than the excruciating pain you constantly feel.
A nurse enters your room while you’re reading one of the many books you’ve had left to read for the past years.
“There is a young man who says he’s your son. Should I let him in?”
You frown in confusion, momentarily wondering if your son has been mistaken for someone else. Nevertheless, you nod.
“Yes, please,” you say, placing your book aside and grabbing your cane to keep it close, just in case.
A soft knock sounds at the door before it opens, revealing a tall, nervous teenager. Your heart stops as you take in his face. It isn’t Jeong—but your oldest son.
As Jungkook described him a week ago, Taemoo definitely looks like the two of you. Nevertheless, his resemblance with his biological father is surprising. There is absolutely no doubt that he is Jungkook’s son. You understand now his mother’s reaction when she saw the firefighter.
“Hello,” he says, his voice tentative, holding a bouquet of bright sunflowers.
His hands tremble slightly as he steps inside. As you look a bit more at him, you can’t help but notice that he’s dressed thoughtfully, a gesture that tugs at your heart.
This moment feels absolutely unreal. Merely days ago you found out about his name, and today he’s standing in front of you.
“I am Taemoo,” he continues.
As you look at this not-so-little man, you wonder what you could say to him, but you have no clue.
“Hello Taemoo,” you manage, your voice soft and unsteady. “Come in,” you add.
Taemoo—or Sunny as you’ve been affectingly calling him for the past sixteen years—comes closer with some hesitation. He’s clutching the flowers like a shield. Despite the nerves, there’s a quiet strength about him.
“I don’t have much to offer, but I have water, cookies, biscuits, and hot chocolate. Would you want something?” you propose.
“No, thanks,” he gives you a little smile.
“Please take a seat,” you offer while showing the chair next to yours.
For a little moment, he hesitates before sitting next to you. Your heart is hammering in your chest, ready to burst any second. The little man you gave birth to sixteen years ago is now standing before you. The same boy you gave up for adoption merely three days after his birth.
“Sorry, I didn’t properly introduce myself,” he mumbles.
As much as you want to tell him that he doesn’t need to, you need to hear him say it out loud.
“I am Taemoo, your son,” he says.
“Hello, Taemoo,” you gently say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
Tears start running down your face as you look at him. Sixteen years ago, you were holding him in your arms while your heart was completely ripped out. You were looking down at him knowing you’d have to say goodbye.
“I… I brought you these,” he shows the bouquet in his hands.
Your chest tightens as you take the flowers. “Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “They’re beautiful—sunflowers are my favorite.”
“I know,” he murmurs, glancing at the floor. “Mr. Jeon told me.”
Your heart melts; this boy definitely seems to have a big heart. More silent tears run down your face while you look down again at the flowers.
“I have to ask,” you say after a little while. “How did you find me?”
You try to clean your face to compose yourself.
“I was in the hospital for a checkup, and I noticed Mr. Jeon at the front desk asking about you,” he explains. “I also know your name because he gave it to me when we met,” he adds.
You nod slowly, absorbing his words. It kind of warms your heart that Jungkook talked about you to Taemoo, but it aches your heart that this is how he got to meet you. You would have largely preferred you had organized this reunion.
“I’m glad you came.”
Your firstborn shifts nervously in his chair. “I wasn’t sure if I should,” he admits. “I didn’t know if you ever wanted to see me.”
It breaks your heart to hear those words as you picture him worried to come. There’s no doubt that it’s brave of him to come here. He could have stumbled upon a mother who didn’t want to see him; he was for sure aware of it.
“Taemoo,” you start saying. “You have every right to be here,” your voice slightly trembles. “I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering how it’d be to see you again.”
But you also wondered if it was a good idea to even look for him. You never wanted to shake his world up, especially after giving him up for adoption.
“I don’t want to bother you,” he says. “I just…” he’s quite hesitating to continue his sentence, and you nod, silently encouraging him to proceed with what he has in mind. “I just needed to see you.”
“You’re not bothering me at all,” you reassure him instantly.
For a moment, silence falls between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. You don’t add anything else as you let him take the lead. He’s the one who was brave enough to come so you want him to say everything his heart desires.
“I have questions,” he finally speaks. “About why. Why gave me up for adoption.”
You swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing.
“Jungkook never told you why?” you question.
“Yes, he did but he never spoke on your behalf. He only gave his reasons.”
This is the Jungkook that you know, and it is very fond of him.
“I couldn’t be a mother,” your voice trembles. “I desired nothing more than to be a mother for you, but I couldn’t give you what you needed. I wanted you to have a life I couldn’t give you at the time.”
It’s hard to tell him why you abandoned him. You’re not even sure he can understand your reasons.
“I was just a girl when I had you; I was your age. I was so scared, but I thought only about your future. You deserved to have a good life, to have parents who would give you everything you needed. In my mind, the best thing for you was to give you up for adoption.”
There’s also the part where you cheated on your boyfriend, but that’s something he doesn’t need to know.
His expression is unreadable, but you notice his hands unclenching. This might be a good sign.
“Did you regret it?” his voice is barely above a whisper.
“Every single day,” you confess. You’re unable to stop the tears now. “The day I handed you over was the hardest day of my life. I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering what you’ve become, but I was too afraid to find you,” you feel extremely vulnerable in front of your son. “I thought you’d hate me.”
Taemoo looks away, staring at the floor while he processes your words. It isn’t easy for him to be here and to know the truth. Jungkook said the same time. He was too young to be a father; he was a total idiot back then, and he tried to give his son the best life he could.
“I don’t hate you,” he softly says, and relief washes over you. “I never hated you because I had a good life, but I’ve spent my whole life wondering if I would have had as well a good life with my biological parents.”
You’re convinced it wouldn’t have been the case.
“Thanks for answering my questions,” he gently says.
Another silence settles between you, but less tense this time.
“Mr. Jeon…” he hesitantly says. “He told me you like books,” he says, changing the subject.
At this stage, you’re wondering what Jungkook hasn’t said about you. First, there are the flowers; now, it’s the books.
“What are you reading?”
You’re grateful he swifts the topic of conversation. It was heavy to be talking to him about your painful past. Smiling, you reach for the book on the bed, and show it to Taemoo.
“It’s one of the books I bought years ago but never read,” he takes the book to look at it.
“I like books too,” he admits while looking at the book. “Mostly history, and fantasy too.”
Your heart warms as he gives you a small glimpse into his life.
“I’d love to know what you’re reading,” you say. “Maybe you could recommend me something?” you’re hesitant.
“Sure,” he straightaway answers. “Maybe next time.”
“Next time,” you murmur while holding onto those words like a lifeline.
Taemoo gives you a small smile. Slowly, you reach for his hand, and for a brief moment, he freezes, then lets you hold it.
“Thanks, Taemoo,” your voice is filled with emotions.
He nods with still that small smile on his face. “If you don’t mind, we could exchange numbers?” he asks with hesitation.
“Yes, of course,” you smile at him, giving his hand a small squeeze.
Your phone is on the other side of the bed, so you slowly try to get up with your glamorous cane. Taemoo stands up without any second thoughts to help you out. He’s already as tall as Jungkook; you don’t doubt he’ll be taller than him. You walk very slowly, and your son doesn’t leave your side in case you need him.
Once you’ve reached your phone, you unlock it to give it to him. “You can type your number and save it,” you say.
Taemoo freezes when he notices your background. There are three kids, and he realizes how much they resemble him. Even though he looks a lot like Jungkook, he also takes a lot after you.
“Are those my siblings?” he asks when he glances at you.
“Yes,” you answer. “I had three other kids years after you.”
“They look adorable,” he tells you before proceeding to save his number on your phone.
He calls himself, so he can also have your number. After that, he helps you to sit again on the chair before leaving the room. The room suddenly feels empty as Taemoo leaves you alone with the flowers and the overwhelming realization that your son—the boy you thought you’d lost forever—is finally back in your life.
Today, Jungkook took a day off because he’s going out with you.
It’s not really a date —at least, that's what you’re both trying to convince yourselves. It’s been like a week that you’re out of the hospital, and he promised he’d take you on a car ride. Even though you walk better than you did some days ago, you’re still very slow. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you want to go out a bit.
For the past few days, you’ve both spent a lot of time together. It’s been great to be around you again. Things are very different now because you’re both grown-ups with kids, and there’s a lifetime that happened since you last saw each other. But he still feels the same around you. He still has that massive crush on you.
Honestly, he thought that with time, it’d fade away, but he was wrong. He understood it the second he pulled you out of that car. Being around you brings him peace. He feels like he doesn’t have to play a role; he simply can be himself.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“Somewhere,” he quickly eyes you before focusing on the road again.
Sixteen years ago, he knew he could never have you because of the circumstances. It was obvious to him that you loved him back, but it simply wasn’t possible. However, today, things are different. He still has a crush on you, and he will do everything in his power to not let you go.
“You’ll like it,” he smiles at you.
You look at him with suspicion.
“Let’s see,” you mumble.
Since you’ve been discharged from the hospital, Jungkook has been kind of scared to put you back in a car. So, for this day out, he asked you a million times if you’d be okay. You reassured him because it didn’t really frighten you.
Your baby daddy has been thoughtfully thinking about the place he could take you to. There are for sure hundreds of places, but he wants something special. However, above anything else, he wants to distract you.
He has noticed how you sometimes contort with pain. Definitely, you try to hide it but he can see it through your eyes. Most of the time, he feels sorry to see you in that state. It doesn’t look great at all. Nonetheless, he’s been trying to help.
Taemoo has also passed by once or twice at your parents’ place. Jungkook has never been present because he wants you two to get to know each other without him being in the middle. He definitely wishes the three of you to be reunited, but let’s take this step by step. It’s difficult for everyone.
“How has it been going to come back home?” he asks.
“Not easy…” you admit. “The kids struggle to not be staying at my place, even myself.”
Unfortunately, you can’t stay alone since anything can happen and you need help. So you’re staying at your parent’s place. You’re sleeping in your old bedroom that has since been transformed into a kid’s room for your babies. Your old bed is still there, but it doesn’t feel like your actual bed.
“They cry when they have to leave with their father. They really want to stay at my parents’ place with me, but it’s already very crowded.”
Your sister still lives with your parents, she’s only 22; she’s still very young. Well, she refuses to let you call her young because, at 22, you were getting married to Minkyu.
“They understand the situation, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard for them.”
Jungkook nods as he can only imagine how this situation feels for everybody. Hopefully, things will slowly get better, and you’ll be able to recover quickly.
“I don’t like to complain, but it’s already physically hard, so seeing them like that makes it harder,” you admit.
It leaves you wondering if it will be like that until the end of your recovery.
“Then, it’s a good thing I take you out for a little bit today,” he smiles, trying to change the conversation.
“It is,” you smile at him.
It’s warming your heart that he has been very present for almost a month. There hasn’t been a day where he didn’t visit you, even if it was for five minutes. You feel lucky to have him during this tough time; he’s been quite a comforting and reassuring presence.
After maybe half an hour, you reach a parking lot from a park located on a high hill. It’s a park you and Jungkook terribly loved. You’d come here towards the end of the pregnancy when you couldn’t sleep.
“So, what do you think?”
“I like this place,” a bright smile grows on your face.
“I know,” he says.
This is definitely very thoughtful of him.
Jungkook leaves the car to help you get out of it. As you think you are going to walk for a bit, the man just holds you in his arms, one of his arms under your back, and the other under your legs. You instantly wrap your hands around his neck. Your faces are pretty close, and all thoughts are shut down by the irresistible desire to kiss him.
“Since there’s a lot to walk before reaching our spot, it’s better if I bring you there,” he confesses.
“Always trying to play the superhero,” you mumble.
“Eeh, I’m not,” he straight away answers. “I’m just trying to make your life easier.”
You roll your eyes while giggling.
“I can let you walk if you prefer but don’t blame it on me afterward,” he says while slowly pretending to put you down.
“Okay, okay,” you retreat in defeat. “Take me there.”
A smile grows on his face before he starts walking in the direction of your spot. It’s a bench where you have the perfect view of the city. At night, it’s wonderful as the buildings are lightening up. You spent many nights here sixteen years ago with your head on his shoulder, and your hand on your belly. Sunny would kick quite a lot during those moments, and Jungkook’s hand would rest on your bump to feel his son.
You were young and stupid, but definitely in love at that moment. A month before your son’s birth, you shared a passionate kiss on that bench. It was a highly desired one. You shared other kisses afterward but they never felt like that first one.
Surprisingly, when you reach the famous bench, nobody is sitting there. Usually, back in the day, that bench was always occupied during the day, only being empty at night.
“It almost feels like you booked the bench,” you chuckle.
“I could of,” he answers. “But I don’t have the means.”
Jungkook sits you down on the bench before taking a seat next to you. Gently, he grabs your legs to place them on top of his. He’s aware of how painful it can be for you to have your knees bent. At least like that, they are almost flat.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” your eyes look at the handsome firefighter instead of the pretty view.
The man only offers you a gentle smile, and the two of you now look at the city stretching before your eyes. It is very different than it was sixteen years ago. The city has grown bigger, some buildings were replaced by others or some even were destroyed. Everything is different while still being the same. Like how it feels to be around Jungkook.
“Can I ask you a question?” Jungkook breaks the silence between you.
Your eyes look back at him, and his expression is unreadable.
“Sure,” you nod.
“Would you have given us a shot if you hadn’t gotten pregnant?” he asks with some sort of hesitation.
The questions catches you by surprise as it is the last thing you thought he’d ever ask.
“To be honest, I don’t know,” you say. “I was feeling so guilty about what I did to Minho, I felt stupid, and I was avoiding you.”
Well, he felt that.
“I avoided you because I really adored what happened with you,” you say. “You were really good in bed,” he smiles at your words. “But I looked at you differently because I got pregnant.”
Sixteen years ago, you never had a conversation about your feelings for him. But it definitely looks like you’re having it now.
“You were by my side every second. You’d cook whatever I was craving, you’d be at every appointment, you’d hold me when I cried, you’d do anything when I was in pain, and you’d bring me here when I couldn’t sleep.”
Your heart is beating fast as you’re about to pronounce the next words.
“I fell in love with that Jungkook,” the firefighter’s heart is also hammering in his chest. “Not with the jerk who’d flirt with me.”
His cheeks are getting red with shyness. After all these years, and even though he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he feels like a teenager falling in love for the first time.
“We were two when we conceived Sunny, so I naturally had to get my shit together and be by your side and help you as much as I could,” he says. “I was for sure a jerk back then, but I’d always assume the consequences of my actions.”
His heart is hammering faster as he takes his courage to speak out loud about how he has been feeling about you.
“I also had a crush on you so I also saw that as a way to spend more time with you,” now you’re the one blushing.
Anyone observing this scene from outside would instantly get how smitten you are. The person would even bet that you’re together.
“Do you still have a crush on me?” you question.
You’re way too curious, but you definitely want to know because damn, you’d kiss that man right now.
Jungkook gets closer to your face, his hands moving to your thighs to caress them. Not in a sensual way.
“What would happen if I say yes?” he whispers when his face is extremely close to yours.
“You’ll have to find out,” you teasingly say.
His eyes move from your eyes to your lips as he desires nothing but the same as you. To kiss you.
“Yes,” he says without any hesitation. “I still have a crush on you.”
You bite your lower lip before breaking the small space between you to fervently kiss him. Having his lips finally against yours feels like a relief, almost as if you’ve been waiting sixteen years to feel them again.
The kiss is shy at first as if you’re both scared but it slowly turns into a desperate and fervent one. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck while the other remains on your thigh. Your hands cup his face while you intensely kiss each other.
This feels like heaven for you two. You open your mouth, giving him free access to it. His tongue doesn’t hesitate one second to find yours. Gently, your tongues meet and it feels wonderful. Inside of your lower belly, thousands of butterflies are freed. Never have you thought that this would happen again although you’ve thought about it since reuniting with him.
When you’re both out of breath, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. For a moment, you simply look at each other while you catch your breath. Jungkook’s fingers softly caress your face, and you close your eyes to savor this moment.
“I’ve dreamed of this since I found you again,” he admits.
Jungkook presses once more his mouth against yours. A soft moan leaves his mouth when your lips meet. He wants to keep doing this forever. He teasingly bites your lower lip which causes a moan to escape your mouth. A devious smirk appears on his face but he gets back to kissing you fervently.
Before the kiss takes a very dirty turn, you break it. “It isn’t the appropriate place for that,” you whisper.
He giggles as he realizes he was ready to take it to the next level in a public place. The firefighter presses a gentle kiss on your lips before you resume to admire the view.
After a couple of hours, he takes you back to your parents’ house. Your mind is filled with euphoria from the kisses you shared earlier, and you can’t help but smile every time you think about it. Kissing Jungkook still feels the same. It still tastes like heaven.
When you’re home, you notice nobody’s here which is a bit weird, especially since you warned your parents you’ll take a shower today. Maybe they went for a walk since you were with Jungkook.
“Would you mind staying a bit?” you ask. “I need to take a shower, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable alone.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he says.
Jungkook assists you until you reach the bathroom and grabs underwear, a bra, pants, and a shirt from your bedroom.
“You’re sure you’ll be able to be by yourself?” he asks with concern.
“I have a stool and everything I need has been placed at the stool level,” you explain. “So don’t worry.”
Jungkook can’t help but feel worried. Even if it’d be weird to be in the bathroom with you, he’d feel reassured.
“If I need anything, I’ll call you,” you add.
There’s not much he can do, except to leave you alone.
“Okay,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips before leaving.
You sit on the stool to get undressed. To remove your shirt and bra, it’s quite easy, but to take off your pants and panties, it’s a whole other story. Your mother has been helping you a lot with the shower part, and you’ve been feeling like a five-year-old who can’t do much by herself.
The last two showers, you’ve been able to do everything by yourself, and you’ve been very proud of yourself. However, right now, you’re struggling a lot. It’s frustrating you beyond comprehension, but you remind yourself that you need to calm down otherwise, it’ll only be worse.
After a little while, you simply resign and call for Jungkook. He arrives in a rush, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your defeated face.
“Struggling?” he asks when he notices your pants stuck at your knees level.
“I can’t push them further than that,” you pout.
He walks in your direction, kneeling before you. “Let me help you.”
His hands carefully push your pants down and throw them onto the floor. Then, before even touching your panties, his eyes look up at you, asking for your consent. Even though you called him for help, he wouldn’t want to cross any line. Consent is important, after all.
You simply nod, you don’t have much of a choice here. His fingers brush against the skin of your hips, causing goosebumps all over your body. Last time he touched you there was the day you conceived Taemoo, sixteen years ago. Your eyes are frozen on him.
Jungkook grabs the hem of your panties to push them down your legs, his fingers brushing against your hot skin. You’re now fully naked in front of him, and it feels incredibly weird although he already saw you like this. But at the same time, it feels reassuring to have him here with you.
“Do you want me to help you wash? Or would you be fine now?” he asks while standing up.
“Help me please,” you almost beg. “Not sure I’ll be able to wash if I can’t even remove my clothes,” you laugh a bit.
You try not to cry at this whole situation. It’s better to laugh at it than cry.
“Okay,” he turns the water on. “You’re going to wash your hair?”
“No, no,” you answer. “Just my body.”
The man in front of you nods and hands you the showerhead.
“Let me know when it is too hot,” he tells you.
You’re holding the showerhead with one hand while the other is below to check the water temperature. In the meantime, Jungkook removes his socks in order for him to get inside the shower.
Once done, his eyes look at you with admiration. For almost a month, you’ve been going through hell with everything that has been going on. You’ve been handling things like a champion even though it’s sometimes very clear you’re suffering terribly. He has nothing but admiration for you.
His heart swells with happiness because, in the midst of all that, you chose to let him be by your side. He even got to kiss you.
“It’s good now,” you tell him with a smile.
Jungkook grabs the showerhead to run it over your body. He carefully executes the task while being extremely focused on not forgetting any body parts of yours.
“With my mum, we always do the intimate parts at the end,” you inform him.
“No problem,” he answers.
Once your body has been fully covered in water, he seizes the shower gel.
“Do you want to do it?” he asks with the gel in his hands.
Usually, with your mum, you do it, but with Jungkook, you’ll gladly let him do it. You really want to feel his fingers touch your body.
“Could you please do it?” he nods.
Jungkook understands that you simply want to feel his touch, and he won’t complain as he desires nothing but to touch your soft skin.
There is nothing sexual about this moment. The two of you would even say that it’s a very intimate moment, even more intimate than sex.
The man covers your entire body with soap before holding back the showerhead to clean you. Once done, you stand up so you can clean your last body parts, which are your vagina and ass. This time around, you want to do it yourself as you feel like it could take a naughty turn if he touches you down there.
Jungkook leaves the shower. “Where are the towels?”
“In the storage cabinet below the sink,” you inform him.
Seconds later, when you cut the water, he wraps you in the towel before you sit back again on the stool.
“Thanks for your help,” you say.
As you slowly wake up, you feel a warm presence behind you which is something not normal. Since you’ve been back from the hospital, you’ve been sleeping alone in your old bed.
Then, you start remembering what happened yesterday. After the shower, your parents arrived and were very delighted to see Jungkook. A bit later, your sister came from work. Your parents naturally invited him to stay for dinner.
Once dinner was over, you practically begged him to stay the night. You then went to your room, and watched “Enola Holmes 2”, but you instantly fell asleep with your body pressed against his, your head against his chest. His heartbeat was the little melody that rocked you to sleep.
Your eyes adjust to the light in which the room is immersed. You turn around to see Jungkook sleeping like a baby, and he looks absolutely adorable.
In this quite big bed, it seems like he’s so far away from you as he isn’t close to you. There’s a distance between the two of you that makes you smile; you know he purposely put that distance. He respects you way too much, and he wouldn’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.
You turn again before closing your eyes to remember what happened yesterday. It was an intense day, but intense in a good way. As you remember the kisses you shared, you run your fingers over your lips. He still kisses like a god.
Yesterday, you felt so much alive. You didn’t feel that way for already a couple of years. Hopefully, this is a feeling that’ll stay longer. You don’t want it to fade away so soon.
Suddenly, the bed moves behind you. A big hand carefully wraps around your waist while a mouth presses a gentle kiss on your shoulder, and a body snuggles up against yours. Instantly, your eyes close to savor this precise moment.
Both of you snuggle together for a little while, just enjoying the closeness of your bodies together. Waking up with someone and with his arms wrapped around you is something you haven’t experienced in a while. The last time it happened was when you were still married to Minkyu.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers with his hoarse morning voice before pressing a sweet kiss on your neck.
Goosebumps rise all over your skin because this is a beautiful way to wake up. Damn, you wouldn’t mind waking up every day to this.
Jungkook feels your shivers beneath his hand, a smirk growing on his face. It feels like a victory to have already made you feel this good so early in the morning.
“Morning, Jungkook,” you whisper.
Naturally, your back arches, pushing your ass back to meet his crotch which makes him groan against your skin. Your cheeks instantly turn red and you push your ass away from his intimate parts.
“Sorry,” you say.
Jungkook also feels a bit embarrassed that his little friend down there is already all turned on. But what can he say, he spent the night with the girl of his dreams.
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispers. “I’m already all turned on.”
Since you’re still flustered, you don’t dare to turn to look at him. He’s also grateful for that; he would hide his face in the pillow if you ever look at him.
“It’s not a bad thing,” you say. “I mean, it’s normal.”
“I know, but it’s awkward for both of us,” he answers.
For a moment, you don’t say anything as you try to find your words.
“I’m actually flattered,” you break the silence. “Wasn’t expecting to turn someone on this early in the morning.”
Jungkook gets closer to you once more, his hard member pressing against your ass through his underwear. That feeling alone causes your walls to clench around emptiness. You also bite your lower lip to repress any moan that might escape your mouth. You’re at your parents’ house, anyone could hear you.
His arms wrap around your waist once more before he presses another kiss on your neck. A very soft moan manages to escape, causing Jungkook to feel some kind of pride. His fingers slip beneath your shirt to caress every part of your body with his cold fingers.
Your back arches at the sensation while one of your hands goes to his head, your fingers running through his hair. Your other hand goes to your mouth to muffle the sounds of your moans. You don’t know exactly what time it is, so you’re not sure if there’s somebody at the house. To be safe, it’s better not to moan like a mess.
Then, his fingers move down on your body, pushing your pajamas’ pants and underwear together. The cold air that brushes against your core makes you grow wetter. Thank god you have your hand in your mouth because there’s no doubt this would have made you moan.
His fingers slowly get closer and closer to your bundle of nerves. By the time his fingers reach your clit, you’re already completely soaked.
“Someone else is already all turned on,” he whispers in your ear before licking and nibbling it. “Tell me what you want, sunshine.”
The simple fact that he asks what you want is a big turn-on. Men tend to forget that during an intimate moment, it isn’t all about themselves and their pleasure. It’s about two people trying to give and have pleasure.
Your back arches a bit more, rubbing your ass more against his semi-hard cock. A deep growl echoes against your ear. Your mind is going completely crazy. There’s one thing you desperately crave right now: him inside you.
“You,” is actually the first word that crosses your mind. “You inside me with your hand on my throat,” you clarify.
Well, the only time you had sex with Jungkook, it was pretty wild. You both discovered how much you adored having his fingers tightly around your neck. It gave a totally other dimension to the sex. It was even more intense, and you loved it.
“You’re sure?” he still asks to be sure.
He doesn’t want to cause any more pain.
“Absolutely,” you reassure him.
Your eyes close when his free hand finds its way to your neck, his wonderful and delicate tattooed fingers wrapping around your throat. This feels wonderful, and it gets you wetter.
As you feel a moan ready to leave your mouth, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. There’s no way you’re going to muffle all your moans. This is already too wild for you, and you know it’s going to get even wilder.
“I’d give anything to see the way you look with my hand around that pretty neck of yours, sunshine” he whispers in the shell of your ear, his deep voice emphasizing the word ‘sunshine’.
With your eyes closed, you can perfectly picture the way his hand fits on you. Jungkook can imagine it too, causing chills to run through his skin.
While his hand caresses your neck, the other one does wonders to your clit. The torture is exquisite, nothing feels as good as having his hands on you. His hand works harder on your core to make you wetter. The man is already desperate to give you what you want. Him inside you.
Once he feels you’re wet enough, his fingers leave your pussy alone to pull your leg up a bit, this way will be easier for him to push his cock inside you. Quite rapidly, he takes off his underwear.
“At any time, let me know if I hurt you, okay?” he whispers with evident concern.
“Don’t worry, Kook,” you say.
His lips pepper the back of your neck with kisses. Your hand goes behind to stroke his cock a bit before rubbing it for a little while against your soaked core.
“Shit, yn,” he groans against your skin.
You bite your lower lip because, damn, it’s fucking hot to wake up to this.
As you feel him growing harder in your hand, you decide to push his length into your heated core. Your pussy sucks him all in, his head stretching you open as he goes further inside you.
“You always feel amazing,” he hisses once he bottoms up.
Small and barely audible moans and whimpers leave the two of you as you both enjoy feeling your bodies connected. Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, giving your body time to adjust to him.
It’s been a while since you last had sex together, and Jungkook’s cock tends to be quite big. That was for sure something you’d never forget. How could you? If you compare to all the dicks you experience, he’d be the biggest.
But it isn’t the kind of big that makes it painful. It’s actually the opposite. You’d say that his dick is simply perfect.
“Move, Kook,” you give him a small slap on his ass to urge him.
You need him, in ways you can’t even express.
The man doesn’t need to be told twice before he starts thrusting into you very slowly and deeply with his hand still around your throat. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as the creaky bed quickly fills the room.
Jungkook takes all his time, he isn’t rushing anything because damn, he wants you both to enjoy this moment. His lips stay on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to avoid moaning. His other hand holds your leg up while he rolls his hips in a way that you absolutely adore.
The hand on your neck and his dick deep inside you are the perfect combos to make you come in a snap. None of you speak, only enjoying this torrid moment.
The man behind you feels that he’s slowly losing you, that you’re losing yourself further in the pleasure that only he can give you. So, he lightly tightens his hand around your throat to help you reach your orgasm faster.
“Fuck,” you swear as his fingers wrap tighter around your neck.
This is more than bliss for you, you could just come right now because of his hand but you don’t want to let go of your orgasm. You want to let it grow immensely until it becomes too overwhelming for you. You want this orgasm to be like an explosion of fireworks inside you.
“You take me so well,” he whispers before bringing your face closer to his to press his lips against yours. Your walls clench around him causing his cock to twitch inside you. A guttural groan leaves his pretty lips, a groan that you happily swallow.
Wanting to bring him closer to the edge, you start moving your hips in circles while he keeps thrusting into you at a very slow and torturous pace. His lips leave yours, his eyes close shut, and barely audible moans keep flooding out of his mouth.
“Keep doing that, yn,” he pants.
His cock goes deeper inside you, filling you up fully and hitting all the right spots which causes the pleasure to grow stronger within you. Your moans are harder to suppress, it feels good to be railed by Jungkook this early in the morning. Morning sex is honestly one of the best types of sex.
He groans deeply against your ear, your orgasm building stronger and stronger. You know that in a matter of seconds, you’ll be coming undone, and Jungkook senses it too. Your hips never stop moving in tandem with his but as you get closer to your high, your walls squeeze him harder.
As he gets lost in the euphoria of the moment, he starts thrusting more harshly. Both of you are chasing your own orgasm while bringing the other closer to the edge. It doesn’t take you too much time to be fiercely hit by that overwhelming wave of pleasure, making you come undone around his massive cock.
“Jungkook, fuck!” you cry with ecstasy, your hips stopping completely to move but the man behind you never stops moving.
“Can I come inside?” you simply nod, barely able to make a proper sentence in the middle of this euphoric state.
Both his hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he releases his thick load inside you. A lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his hot cum inside you, pushing it as deep as possible inside you.
For a little while, both of you stay in this position, his hands still holding you tight against him while his cock remains inside you. None of you wants to break this moment but you have to since you’ll need to leave the bed.
Very slowly, you remove yourself from his cock to stand up from the bed. “Can I ask you to help me put on my underwear and pants?” you ask.
Without hesitation, Jungkook stands up while grabbing your clothes. As yesterday, he kneels before you to dress you. A smile spreads across your face as you look down at him. This man is, without any doubt, the kind of man you want to have in your life. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart with you.
“Thanks a lot, Jk,” you say once fully dressed.
The man carefully spreads your legs to situate himself between them.
“No problem, sunshine,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Also, I’d like to mention that I take the pill,” you mention with a silly smile on your face. “So we won’t have any other surprise kid.”
Jungkook smiles and kisses you once more.
“I’m glad to know that,” he whispers against your lips.
Still fully naked, he stands up to assist you to do the same. Once you’re straightened up, you take the glamorous cane. At the same time, Jungkook puts his clothes back on because there’s no way he’s going to leave this bedroom naked. It’d be way too embarrassing.
This impressive man helps you go to the bathroom and, then, to the kitchen. At first, it seems like there’s only the two of you since you don’t hear any noise. However, to your surprise, when you reach the kitchen, you find your sister sitting at the table and eating breakfast.
“Good morning,” you say with evident joy.
“Only good morning to you,” she snaps back.
You frown with confusion. Your sister looks you dead in the eyes, totally ignoring Jungkook’s presence in the same room.
“I really didn’t need to know how you two conceived your first kid,” she explains.
Both you and Jungkook open your eyes wide; you weren’t expecting that at all. But there were chances that someone would have heard you. It’s definitely weird your sister was the one. You wouldn’t want to hear her having sex with someone.
“Hopefully, this time around, there won’t be any other kid,” Jungkook manages to say.
Your sister laughs a bit. “I like this one,” she takes a sip of coffee. “He seems better than the other ones, and he’s also a lot hotter than them.”
Jungkook starts laughing as he helps you to take a seat.
“She’s funny,” he whispers to your ear.
“Don’t be silly,” you tell your sister. “And please, go find a guy so you don’t drool over mine.”
Although you haven’t defined your relationship for now, he’s flattered you consider him as ‘your guy’.
“How can I compete with a firefighter?” she teases. “Anyone will feel boring next to Jungkook,” she adds.
“If you want, I can introduce you to my colleagues,” he suggests.
“Don’t encourage her in her nonsense,” you tell him.
“Yes, please,” she says with enthusiasm.
You roll your eyes. She’s unbelievable and definitely very crazy, but that’s maybe why you love her so damn much.
After that, together with Jungkook, you prepare breakfast while speaking with your sister. She leaves a couple of minutes later because she needs to meet with her best friend downtown. And right after her, Jungkook leaves you alone in your parents’ house which breaks your heart. However, you don’t stay very long by yourself as your kids come to visit you with their father.
Three weeks later
You and Jungkook are sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant. Your heart is beating fast with nervousness.
“Everything is going to be fine,” he tries to reassure you while resting his hand on top of yours.
“Don’t know,” you mumble.
Today, you’ve organized a dinner with Jungkook and Taemoo; your first time as a family. It’s weird to even think about it, but Taemoo really wanted to spend some time with you, together. Since he proposed this, you’ve been feeling very nervous. You’re a bit scared of how things will go when you’re finally the three of you together.
“There’s no reason for this to not go well,” he answers.
Before you can even answer, Taemoo joins you with a bright smile on his face. Like the first time you met him, he’s very well dressed.
“Hello,” he says. “I brought you these,” he hands you a tiny bouquet composed of three sunflowers. “It’s one sunflower for each of us.”
Your heart has completely melted now. This kid is so damn thoughtful, just like his biological father. His parents definitely raised him well, and it only reassures you that the decision you made sixteen years ago was the right one.
“Hello, Taemoo,” you say while standing up to hold your son in your arms. “Thanks a lot.”
Your firstborn wraps his arms around yours. This is a heartfelt moment; being able to hug him fills your heart with so much love. It feels like holding Jiwoo even though you didn’t raise Taemoo. Unfortunately, you can’t hold him for a long moment due to your wonderful knees. So he then greets Jungkook before taking a seat in the empty chair.
“Thanks for accepting this,” those are his first words.
Although he seems very happy and relaxed, you notice he’s a bit stressed.
“After seeing you separately, I really wanted to spend a bit of time with the two of you,” he starts saying. “Not sure how this will evolve in the future, but I’d like to sometimes organize this kind of diner.”
For the past few weeks, your life has drastically changed, and honestly, sometimes, you feel like it’s too much. However, having Jungkook and Sunny back in your life is what you consider to be a blessing. In all this chaos, you found two deeply important people that you left sixteen years ago.
The sixteen-year-old version of you was devasted to part ways from them two, thinking that you’ll never see them again. If she could see this today, the heartbreak would have been less painful. But that version of you is beyond happy today to see the three of you sitting at the same table.
This car accident destroyed your knees and stomach, but it has brought you Jungkook and Sunny. All of this would not be happening without this accident.
You also can’t wait to see your three other little munchkins with the man you love and their older sibling. Undoubtedly, that day will be the most wonderful day of your life. Now, you feel like you can finally truly be happy. You now have all the people you need to be happy.
#bts#bts fanfic#bts imagine#jeon jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook imagine#bts fluff#jungkook fluff#bts angst#jungkook angst#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#wait for your love#spideyjimin
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.
Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.
So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?
Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.
If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.
ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.
The second reason you shouldn't do it?
IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.
I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.
Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.
Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.
Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.
12K notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Friends
Thank you @brittmb115 for this prompt!
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: Accompanying your friend Javier to his holiday work party seemed simple enough until it gets a little too hard to just pretend to be dating.
Warnings: language, fake dating, one bed trope, sexual tension, jealousy, flirting, cigarette use, alcohol use, friends to lovers, reader has insecurities about her looks, fingering, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex
WC: 6.4K
dividers by @saradika-graphics
"Please, cariño, it's just one night. The party's at a casino about two hours outside the city. The DEA paid for hotel rooms 'cause they're worried about people drinking and driving. We'll be back by noon on Saturday, you'll still have your whole weekend to mope around over Travis," Javi begged as he followed you around your kitchen.
"Trent," you corrected with a glare over your shoulder. Javi just waved you off.
"Yeah, whatever. His name doesn't matter anymore, now does it?" he countered with an arched brow. You frowned and continued to put your dishes away.
Javier was right - Trent's name didn't matter anymore. Not after he dumped you out of the blue, two weeks before Christmas. He probably didn't want to buy you a gift, Javier had said when you called him up crying. It wasn't exactly the most comforting thing to hear, but at least he made you laugh.
"And why is it you don't want to attend this event by yourself? I thought you would have wanted to take some poor secretary back to your room for the evening," you said, flipping the dishwasher closed before playfully adding, "This better not be some sick move to try to get into my pants again." Javi pulled out his carton of cigarettes and began to anxiously tap it against his palm. When you whisked by, you smacked it out of his hand with a warning: do not smoke in my house.
"You've made it very clear I won't be touching your pants, hermosa," he chuckled, recalling a handful of failed attempts to get you into bed before giving up entirely. "But, uh, I've been taking one too many secretaries home lately," Javi admitted with a lopsided grin. "Got one real pissed at me for not calling her back. Had to make up a lie that I had gotten back together with an ex, so..."
Your jaw dropped and you stared daggers at him with your hands on your hips.
"So not only are you asking me to go with you to this party, but I'm supposed to pretend we're dating?" you clarified, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. When he nodded sheepishly, you tossed your hands in the hair and began to curse under your breath.
"Oh, come on! It won't be that bad! It's not like she's gonna say anything. It's just for looks. Hell, you never know. Maybe you'll meet someone at this thing. I could be doing you the favor of a lifetime," he said before hopping up to sit on your kitchen island. You smacked his knee when you walked past and he grinned.
"I have barstools, you know."
"Yeah, but I like it up here. Better view," he winked and jutted his chin towards your v-neck shirt.
"Gross," you scowled, making him laugh. He took a handful of nuts from the bowl on your counter and shook them in his hand like dice.
"So? What's it gonna be? You in?"
You watched him tip his head back, pouring some peanuts in his mouth, and you sighed. What the hell. You didn't have anything better to do.
"Fine."
Javier jumped off the counter excitedly. "Thank you! I owe you one!" he exclaimed before heading for your door. "I gotta run. I'll pick you up around noon on Friday. And, hey - bring a dress. The party is a little formal."
You rolled your eyes and groaned, then shooed him out your door. "Thanks. Now I have to figure out a damn outfit."
"You're the best!" he shouted happily from his car. You shut your door and turned around to sag against the wood, finally surrounded with silence. Something you thought you were craving until you had it, and then suddenly you realized you had never felt more alone in your life.
"Where the hell is this place?" you asked, staring out the passenger seat of Javier's jeep. It felt like the car kept climbing higher and higher, and the way your ears were popping, you were thinking your hunch was right.
"It's a hotel slash casino up in the hills," he said with a nod towards the open, winding road. "Supposed to have a hell of a view."
"Yeah, guess so," you muttered, then gasped when a clearing came into view and you saw just how high up you really were. "Oh, my god! Javi - look!"
"I'm driving, cariño," he reminded you with a smirk, but his eyes still flickered quickly over the ridge.
"Wow," you said breathlessly. The view was spectacular. Miles and miles of hills and trees surrounded a sprawling hotel/casino. If you were closer to the edge, you would be able to see a lazy river snaking around the bottom of the mountain.
"Alright. So what's the story?" you asked when you settled back in your seat. There was still a ways to go until you reached the casino, but you could see it from the road nestled into the landscape.
"What story?"
"Our story," you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You told a girl you got back together with an ex. So, why did we originally break up?"
"Oh," Javi said, scratching his chin. "I don't know. You really think it matters?"
"Maybe. Who knows? Probably a good idea we at least talk about it," you shrugged.
Javi thought about it for a minute before snapping his fingers. "You wanted marriage and I didn't."
You made a face and shook your head.
"That would imply we're on the path to getting engaged. You really think you can fake a whole marriage because you pissed off a girl at work?"
"Yeah, good point," he mumbled before falling quiet to think about it some more. After a few minutes, he came up with another idea. "How about you were gonna move away for a job and we didn't want to do long distance, but the job fell through and you stayed?"
You nodded slowly, rolling the idea around in your head.
"Yeah, that's good. That'll work. Then one day to explain why you're single again, you can say I got another job offer out of state or something."
"Exactly."
"Alright. Easy enough," you hummed, then turned to gaze out your window again. Javi watched you for a few minutes out of the corner of his eye, his jaw working back and forth while he tried to come up with the right words to express his gratitude.
"Hey, uh," he said, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him expectantly. "I just wanna thank you again. I know you're going through a tough time and all that-"
"Don't mention it," you said dismissively. "It's not a big deal. Plenty of guys out there, right?"
Javi gave you a tight smile. "Yeah. Sure."
One thing that you didn't have a chance to fully think through was the sleeping situation. As Javi checked you in and you heard the girl at the front desk confirm one king sized bed, you felt yourself stiffen. He signed and grabbed the keys, then shot you a warm smile before gesturing towards the elevators. From the looks of it, Javier didn't mind one bit. Then, of course, it was Javier...
"No funny business," you declared when you entered your room and Javier flopped down tiredly on the huge bed. "You stick to your side, I'll stick to mine."
"Whatever you say, cariño," he replied with his eyes closed. "I'll be reminding you of that later tonight when you're all over me after a few drinks."
"That was one time and I told you I was sorry!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning from the memory.
Your relationship in the past with Javier was... complicated. When you first met, it felt like you kept seeking each other out at all the worst times. Whenever you made a move, he was unavailable, and vice versa. Eventually, you had decided to just be friends and left it at that. And it worked well. You had an easy relationship where it felt effortless and natural to go to the other with some exciting news, and sought a shoulder to cry on if something bad happened. It just seemed to work better without the romantic element.
All of that aside, at the crux of the issue was you were a romantic, through and through. You liked being in long term relationships. You enjoyed the comfort and peace it brought. Javier, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. You couldn't even remember the last time he brought the same girl out for drinks more than once and you had a suspicion he had never been in love.
"I'm just messing with you. Can't help it, I like when you're all flustered," Javi said before sitting up with a groan. When he stretched, you found your eyes drifting down to where his shirt rode up, revealing a small sliver of bronzed skin. You swallowed and forced yourself to look away because no matter how many times you reminded yourself it would never work between you, it didn't stop you from being unbearably attracted to him.
It was the confidence that he exuded. That was what you had finally decided was the thing that kept you drawn to him in a decidedly less-than-friendly way. But of course, you were quick to remember you weren't the only one who was attracted to his charm. Half the women in the city noticed it, too. You had just gotten very good at hiding it.
"What time's the party start?" you asked, hauling your duffel bag onto the bed so you could begin to unpack your toiletries. The first thing you did was take out the dark red slinky dress you bought so you could steam out the wrinkles with the iron packed away in the coat closet. What you didn't notice was the way Javier's eyes greedily locked onto the fabric while you moved around the room.
"Uh..." he murmured, his pulse quickening when he saw the plunging neckline of your dress. "That new?"
You furrowed your brow and turned around. "Yeah. I didn't exactly have anything suitable so I went shopping. Why? You don't like it?"
"No, no... it's perfect," he assured you. Javier blinked a few times, snapping himself out of it, and looked at you. "Very... festive."
You grinned and hung up the dress on the back of the bathroom door. "Thanks. I thought so, too. So... the party? What time?"
"Oh, right. Cocktail hour starts at five, dinner's at seven then dancing or whatever til who knows when."
You glanced at your watch and made a face after you did a quick pass with the iron.
"I better get in the shower, then," you said, grabbing your things. Javier leaned back onto the headboard and flicked on the television with the ease of a man who didn't intend on putting in much work on his appearance for evening. However, once you finished your hair and makeup and stepped out of the bathroom in that damn dress, he suddenly felt like he should have tried a little harder.
"Maybe I should put something in my hair," he muttered, his fingers flicking through the dark locks as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. You appeared in the doorway of the bathroom looking way too fucking attractive to be his date, let alone masquerading as his girlfriend. Your brows pinched together as you looked at his hair and it took every last ounce of willpower not to let his eyes fall to your cleavage in that tight dress.
"I think your hair looks good," you said. When you reached up to fix a stray piece of his hair, he cleared his throat and twisted away.
"Alright, let's get this thing over with," he mumbled as he slid past you and headed towards the door.
"What's got you so grumpy?"
"Nothing. Just need a drink and a smoke."
"You're gonna abandon me with a bunch of DEA agents to go smoke for ten minutes?" you whined, following him out of your hotel room towards the elevators.
"You could always join me. You'd look like Bette Davis smoking a cigarette and wearing that dress," he replied when you both stepped inside the elevator. He tapped the lobby button and grinned down at you.
"You and Bette Davis," you laughed, rolling your eyes.
"What? She made smoking look so damn cool."
"Yeah, well, I think I'm going to pass," you told him. "I'll get a drink and mingle. Maybe find one of the girls you pissed off and have a cat fight."
Javi chuckled and shook his head. "That's a long list, baby. Shouldn't be too hard."
When the elevator doors slid open, you could hear the music thumping from the ballroom and laughter echoing off the walls.
"Sounds like they didn't waste any time," you said to Javier.
"Are you kidding? When the government gives you an open bar, you fucking milk it," he replied before taking one step towards the front doors. "You sure you're good for a few?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," you said, waving him off. He nodded and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Before he even made it to the door, he slipped one in between his lips.
The ballroom was pretty full already, Javi was right: when government employees have a chance to let loose, they jump at the opportunity. The entire room was decorated in Christmas lights, garland, and at least five different trees. The DJ was cycling through a mix of Christmas carols, pop music, and classic rock. Some people already shaking their hips on the dance floor with drinks in their hands. You spotted two different bars set up, so you made your way to the nearest one and ordered a white wine. As you waited, you bopped your head along to the beat of Last Christmas while mindlessly scrolling on your phone.
"Jack Daniels, neat," a man's deep voice said from beside you when the bartender placed your wine glass on a coaster. You thanked him and slid a few dollars across the bar before taking a sip.
"Excuse me... have we met?"
You turned to look at your neighbor and slowly shook your head. He was cute. Blonde hair parted to one side, mustache, lean but strong physique and sparkling blue eyes.
"No, we haven't," you said before offering your hand and name.
"Steve," he grinned, giving your hand a firm shake before accepting his drink with a nod and a couple bucks in the tip jar. "What department do you work in?"
"Oh, I don't work for the DEA, I'm here with someone," you said, leaning closer. You watched his face fall when you implied you weren't single and you pursed your lips. How the hell would Javi expect you to meet anyone when you had to pretend to be his girlfriend?
"I mean, just a friend. A good friend," you added, praying you didn't blow Javi's cover the first time you opened your mouth. "Uh, what do you do?"
"I'm an agent," he told you, chest puffing with pride. "Takin' down drug rings one scumbag at a time."
"Wow. That's so impressive," you gushed. You saw the way his cheeks flushed a bit and preened when he glanced down at your chest. "That must be so hard. What's your favorite part about the job?"
"Goin' to the Christmas party and meeting beautiful women like you," he shot back smoothly, making you giggle and toss your hair flirtatiously over your shoulder. Steve's gaze dragged up and down your dress appreciatively before adding, "I mean it. You look stunning. Should've known someone like you didn't work for the DEA."
"Oh, stop," you giggled, feeling your face warm from his compliment.
"Where are you sitting? Maybe I can convince you to dance after dinner? Now fair warning, I got two left feet, but I got a feeling no one's gonna be lookin' at me," Steve grinned, taking a step closer and grazing his thumb along your bare arm.
"Hmm, that sounds-"
"Murphy."
You both twisted around to find Javier storming across the room. And storming was really the only word for it. His fists were clenched and his jaw pulled tight like he was about to take a swing at Steve.
"Javi," you greeted him sweetly with a smile. At the same time, Steve said, "Peña."
"What's going on here?" he asked, sidling up so he could wedge himself between you and Steve.
"Nothing. Steve and I were just talking," you said innocently.
"Looked like more than that," Javier huffed. His tone and the serious look on his face made you falter. Did you do something wrong?
"Well-"
"I was just asking her for a dance after dinner. Relax, Jav," Steve joked with a playful punch to his shoulder. When Javi remained stoic and unmoving at your side, the smile slowly slipped from Steve's face.
"Oh, shit. Sorry. I thought you were just friends."
"We are," you said quickly, but Steve was already backing away.
"Enjoy your night! It was lovely to meet you," Steve said with a wink before disappearing into the crowd. You swiveled on your heel to glare at Javi.
"Why didn't you correct him?" you seethed.
Javi just shrugged, his relaxed demeanor slipping back in place, and leaned up against the bar to flag down a bartender. "You can do better than Steve."
"Who are you to say?" you argued back after he ordered a whiskey. "We were clicking! And he's cute, why-"
"'Cause I don't want you fucking my partner, hermosa, that's why," Javi snapped. Your eyes widened and you clamped your mouth shut for a moment.
"He's your partner? Why didn't you ever introduce us before? He's-"
"C'mon, let's go find the appetizers or something," he said after snatching his glass from the bar top. It was very evident you wouldn't be getting any more information out of Javier so you decided to drop the subject. But as the happy hour inched along with your third drink in your hand and Javi's arm finding a permanent home around your waist as he introduced you to his coworkers, your mind kept drifting back to that hardened look he had given you and Steve. The butterflies in your stomach churned to life every time you thought about it, your memory twisting things so you could pretend he was jealous over you flirting with another man. It wasn't that hard to imagine, really. He could hardly keep himself from touching either your waist or lower back or grabbing your hand. It fed the little fantasy in your head, deluding yourself into thinking he was subtly trying to claim you in front of the whole party, warning others to stay away.
You had given up reminding yourself that the fake relationship schtick was just an act by the end of dinner. It was too nice to pretend otherwise.
Javi had been wrapped up in a long winded conversation with the man seated on the other side of him, but your heart was fluttering the whole time because from the moment he set his silverware down, his hand hadn't once left your leg.
With a dreamy smile plastered across your face, your eyes casually drifted around the room. People were already beginning to dance but many still remained at their dinner tables chatting. You had been quietly admiring the artwork on the walls and sipping from your glass when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It was hard to explain, but you just felt like someone was staring at you. Doing your best to be subtle, you shifted in your seat and let your gaze wander around the room again until you found the source.
There was a table to your left, half of which was empty, but five young women remained staring in your direction. Some had drinks dangling from their fingers, one had a scowl and another was leaning in to whisper something in her ear.
There was no question one of the girls must have been one of Javi's scorned lovers. If not all of them. Your heart sunk a little when you saw how beautiful they were and you forced yourself to look away.
Javier was handsome, he had charm, and he was funny. A lethal combination that managed to get him in bed with some extremely drop dead gorgeous women. It was then you felt your insecurities flare up. How could anyone buy you were a couple when he was used to having girls like that on his arm?
With Javier still talking, you stood up from your chair, suddenly feeling flustered and overwhelmed.
He stopped speaking mid sentence to look up and ask, "Where are you going?"
"Uh," you glanced around and swallowed nervously. "I think I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back."
"I'll go with you," he said, immediately standing. "I'll catch up with you later, Jim," Javi added over his shoulder before hurrying to catch up with you. When his palm pressed against your back, your feet automatically slowed.
"What's going on? Drink too much?"
"No. Well, maybe. I don't know," you rambled, eyes scanning for the exit. "I just feel like I don't fit in here."
"What? Why?" he asked, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. His face was filled with concern as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You're doing great, cariño. I thought you were having fun."
"I was. I am," you stammered, and then your gaze landed on the table of girls, most of which had moved on to something else.
Before you could tear your eyes away, Javier noticed where you were looking and sighed.
"Yeah, sorry. I told you, I pissed off a woman or two here."
"It's not that," you mumbled, now staring down at the floor.
"Then what is it?"
You felt your cheeks flush and you couldn't look him in the eye when you finally admitted, "They're really pretty, Javi."
He just scoffed and took your hand in his.
"You're prettier."
You laughed lightly and shook your head. "Yeah, right. It's a good thing there's an open bar. Otherwise, I'm not sure people would believe we're together when you're usually seen with girls like that."
"Hey," Javi said softly. He hooked a finger under your chin and tilted it up so you would look at him. "Don't say that. You look better than anyone else here. If you weren't already, I'd be trying to get you up to my room right now," he said with a smirk. You giggled a little and sighed.
"Sorry. I guess I just had a moment or something," you said, breathing deep. Javi looked around the room and noticed how the dance floor was beginning to fill up.
"Wanna dance?"
You smiled and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you watched others having fun on the dance floor. Without waiting for your answer, Javi tugged your hand and tilted his head, urging you to follow him. "C'mon, don't leave me hanging."
You laughed and let him lead you to the dance floor, weaving through the throngs of people until he found a little wiggle room, but right when he turned back to look at you with a big, goofy smile, the fast tempo switched to a much slower ballad. Javi cocked an eyebrow at you and extended a hand, unphased.
With a smile of your own, you took his hand and let him pull you in close. His fingers laced together with yours while his other arm wrapped around your middle and your free hand came to rest on his shoulder.
"Hey, you can dance," he teased when you fell into rhythm with him effortlessly.
"Of course I can dance," you said, rolling your eyes. Being that close to him, you could smell his aftershave, the whiskey on his breath, and a faint hint of cigarette smoke from earlier. The smell you had unknowingly grown to love. The smell that was, simply put, Javier.
You gazed up at him, smiling at the little pink tinting his cheeks and the glassy look in his eye. He looked so fucking adorable it almost pained you.
"Can I ask you something, Javi?" you asked quietly. His eyes softened at your tone and he nodded. "Why were you so mad earlier when I was talking to Steve? Really?"
The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes flickered somewhere behind you as he considered his answer.
"I think you know why."
When he looked back down at you, the playfulness was gone. His eyes carried something else in them. Something he couldn't bring himself to say. Then your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat when you saw it. The look you had been aching to see from him for years. The same look you were giving him at the very same time.
And then it hit you. Yeah, you knew why.
It turned out Javier was much more popular at work than you ever expected. You had spent the rest of your dance trying to come up with the right thing to say, but you panicked and lost your chance when Javier's boss nudged his shoulder while dancing with his wife. The four of you fell into a conversation - the men about work, you and his boss's wife about Christmas bargains - in the middle of the dance floor. When you realized you were in the way, the conversation moved to the bar. After that, an investigator joined in the conversation with her girlfriend and before you knew it, it was nearly midnight and the moment you had with Javi on the dance floor was long forgotten.
Or so you thought.
It had been a long night. You were exhausted and your feet ached from the new shoes you picked out to match your dress. You had hoped to possibly find an opening and talk to Javi about what you thought he implied during your dance, but while you were waiting for him to wash up, you passed out cold.
One thing you knew for certain was you were on your side of the bed when you fell asleep. You knew that because your side faced the bathroom and you had rolled over to wait for Javi before you fell asleep. However, you couldn't explain why you woke up around three in the morning with your cheek resting on his shoulder and your arm wrapped around his waist.
Well, maybe you could explain it. It was probably your subconscious trying to seek him out after spending the evening being so close to him. No matter the reason, you knew you had to sneak back to your side of the bed before he woke up, so you slowly began to extract your arm.
"Where're you goin'?" Javi murmured sleepily. Your eyes widened and your heart began to race.
"Nowhere, just go back to sleep," you whispered, pulling your arm away. Just as you were about to roll over, Javi's hand shot out to grab your wrist. You froze, cheek still pressed against his shoulder, and slowly lifted your eyes up to meet his.
It was hard to see in the dark, but from what you could tell, he was wide awake. His dark brown eyes continued to study your face while you fumbled for words.
"Javi?" you said, voice sounding so small in the quiet room. His eyes flickered anxiously between yours for another moment before he came to his decision. In one quick movement, he had rolled you onto your back, his hips fitting perfectly between your legs as he caged you in.
"Javi," you said again, although this time sounding far more breathless and aroused than you intended.
He swallowed tightly, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips before he whispered, "Do you feel it too, cariño?"
You shifted underneath him, eyelids fluttering when you felt his arousal pressing up against the inside of your thigh.
"Yes," you whispered back.
His mouth crashed against yours in an instant. It was rougher than you expected it to be but you didn't mind. You understood because you felt it, too. All that time wasted, dancing around something that was right in front of you the entire time. It was bound to drive anyone a little crazy, a little hungry.
Before you knew it, your fingers were in his hair, dragging down his shoulders, and then tugging at his shirt, and all the while his mouth remained cemented against yours. He had to pull away to yank his white tshirt over his head and you heard yourself make a pathetic little noise, like you couldn't possibly survive without his kiss, not even for one second.
"Take this off," he panted, lifting your oversized shirt halfway up your torso. You didn't need to be told twice. You flung it off and pulled Javier back down before he even had a chance to take a good look at your bare chest.
Everything was moving so fast but given the amount of time it took you to get there, it felt like a fucking eternity. He expertly tugged your shorts and underwear off while your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. It wasn't even until you felt his fingers brush against your cunt that you realized you were entirely undressed.
"Oh, god... Javi!" you cried out brokenly when he slipped two fingers inside of you.
His mouth fell to your chin and he made a strangled sound, curling his fingers when he said, "Fuck, baby, when you say my name like that..."
His hand maintained a steady rhythm between your legs, reaching for that spot that made your back curl off the bed every time he thrusted inside. His other hand got lost in your hair, tipping your face so he could feverishly lock his lips with yours while dragging your first orgasm to the surface with a few circles over your sensitive clit.
"Javi! Wait... I'm gonna - I'm gonna come -" you gasped, unable to stop your hips from rolling up and meeting his hand.
"Go ahead, hermosa. I got you."
"No," you whimpered, muscles going tense. You were getting to the point of no return and you needed to stop him. "I wanna - I want you to fuck me, Javi. I - I wanna -"
Your head fell back into the pillow, unable to complete your sentence.
"I am. I'm gonna fuck you," he assured you, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and wrist snapping faster between your thighs. "I'll make you come on my cock, don't worry, baby. Just let go, c'mon, you can do that for me, right?"
"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck, fuck, fu- yes, Javi, yes! More... please-"
"Christ, cariño, you're gonna wake the whole fucking hotel," he chuckled, but you were too far gone to care. You tilted your chin to the ceiling, his name echoing off the walls as you came. It felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest, like your legs were so weak you may never walk again, yet somehow it wasn't enough. Not for either of you. In fact, it only seemed to make you each more desperate.
Your kisses on his skin became messy, both of you so eager to have the other that there was no room to worry about being too fast or abrasive. Your teeth clashed together when your arm curved around his neck, yanking him down to your level. Your shared hot breaths mingled with each pant and gasp. When you reached down to wrap your fingers around the heavy weight of his cock, he moaned into your open mouth and slid his fingers from your pussy so you could line him up with your entrance, neither of you in any mood to wait a second longer.
"Fu-uck," he groaned when he pushed inside of you, burying himself to the hilt in one go. You gasped and sharply bit down on his shoulder when tears sprung up and threatened to spill down your cheeks.
"You okay?" he panted, planting weak kisses against the side of your face. All you could do was nod. He filled you and stretched you so perfectly that it took your breath away and left you speechless. He nodded, too, lips parted as he puffed for air, then began to rock his hips. Slow at first, then steady and deep.
"Javi," you moaned in his ear, sending a shiver through his body. "Shit, just like that. Oh my god, Javi, just like that!"
Javier smirked into your shoulder, fucking you with deep, long strokes as you continued to fill the room with your cries and moans.
"Never thought you'd be so goddamn loud, baby," he teased, nipping playfully at your shoulder.
"Sorry," you whined into the air. Your jaw was clenched tight, fingers clawing uselessly at his broad shoulders while he continued to pump in and out a little bit harder, a little bit faster, setting loose one of the tears that welled up in your eyes.
"Don't be sorry, I fucking love it," he groaned. He lifted himself up so he could watch your face contort with each devastating thrust. "Fucking love how you say my name. Dreamed about it for so long, you have no idea-"
"Me, too," you moaned, a second tear trickling down your cheek. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him tightly as he began to fuck you faster. His eyes flickered down to your bare chest, breasts bouncing from the force of his thrusts. Craning his neck down, he latched onto one with a groan, teeth grazing enticingly over your nipple before sucking the other one into his mouth.
"God, you're so perfect," he mumbled into the space between your breasts. "So fucking perfect, hermosa. Drove me fucking crazy all night."
Your heart stuttered before grabbing the sides of his head and pulling him up for a deep kiss. Every time he slammed inside of you, it had you seeing stars. You felt completely at his mercy, unable to think about anything else except him, him, him.
"Tell me you want more," he demanded, pulling away from your kiss so he could look you in the eye. His eyes were blown wide with lust and a few dark hairs were beginning to stick to his forehead, the image so captivating that he had you nodding dumbly to his request.
"Yes, Javi, please," you moaned, "more, please, fuck me-"
"No, I mean-"
His hips slowed and he cupped your face, chest heaving and lips parted for air as he stared down at you imploringly. "I mean, tell me you want more than just tonight. Tell me there's something else here."
You blinked rapidly and nodded, stunned he would even have to ask when you had always been the one to prefer relationships. Hardly trusting yourself to speak, you whispered, "Yeah. I want more than just tonight. I want more than just this."
A smile stretched across his face right before he lunged down to capture your lips with his own. His hips resumed their pace, snapping steadily into you and pushing you higher and higher until you stiffened and cried out his name.
"Oh, fuck. Oh, shit," he muttered, hips stuttering against you, his name still tumbling from your mouth as the last of your orgasm rippled through your body. "Baby - look at me," he begged, and it wasn't until that moment you realized your eyelids had even shut.
Tiredly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him. The way he was looking at you caused a lump to form in your throat and you had to suppress a shiver. It was too intense all of the sudden, the air thickening between you in a matter of seconds.
"Come for me, Javi," you murmured lowly. You brought a shaky hand up to card through his damp hair, watching as his eyebrows pinched and his chin dropped, pulling out of you quickly and sitting back on his heels to fist his cock. Your hand fell back to the cool sheets beside you, unable to look away. He was hunched above you, one fist pressed into the mattress and the other jerking himself off until he stilled with a deep groan, painting your stomach with his sticky release. You couldn't even let yourself blink, doing your best to commit every detail to memory until he collapsed next to you with a heavy sigh.
"Fucking Christ," he grumbled, forearm tossed over his eyes. You giggled, face warming when you heard how raspy you sounded. Javier removed his arm and turned his head to look at you with a lopsided grin.
"You're a screamer, hermosa."
"Javi!" you cried out softly, but your broken voice only further proved his argument. He chuckled and rolled onto his side to push some hair away from your eyes.
"I was expecting a phone call from the front desk ten minutes ago."
"Shut up, Javi!" you whined, covering your face with your palms.
"Don't be embarrassed, baby, I love it," he said while pulling your hands away. You bit your lip and peered up at him, searching his face for any sign of regret and finding none. Then his face softened and he swallowed nervously before adding, "I'm in love with you."
He said it so quietly, so sweetly, that it had you wondering if you were hearing things. But then you saw the anxious look in his eye and your pulse skyrocketed.
"Really?" you asked in disbelief. Slowly, he nodded.
"Yeah. I think I've been in love with you for a while," he admitted, tracing an invisible line down your cheek.
You laughed and two fresh tears fell when you said, "I love you, too."
His mouth crashed against yours in relief and you wrapped your arms around his neck, matching smiles pressing together in stunned happiness.
"I'm sorry I wasted so much time and didn't tell you sooner," he murmured while stroking your hair.
"It doesn't matter," you replied, "we have each other now."
Javi smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.
"So, now what?" he asked.
"Now? Now I would really like to take a shower," you said, then grinned when you added, "and maybe in the morning we can do this all over again."
He laughed and rolled to his side so you could get out of bed. When his eyes locked onto your ass as you made your way to the bathroom in the dark, he flung the covers off and leapt out of bed to follow you.
"I think we're gonna need a late check out."
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️
#javier pena fluff#javier pena fic#javier pena x you#javier pena x reader#javier peña x reader#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena narcos#javier peña#narcos x reader#narcos fanfiction#narcos au#javier pena au#christmas prompts#javier pena smut
2K notes
·
View notes