#i hope it’s still alright though 🥹🥹🥹

[zepskies]

Aww thank you, lovely friend!! 🥹💕 I tried my best to end this series with a bang lol, but also in a hopefully satisfying way that ties up the most important loose ends. I canNOT wait to dive into your thoughts on the grand finale!!

well, what a start! the action scenes were playing so vividly in my head, i loved all the details <3 and mato being a good son-in-law! love to see it 🤣

Ooh I'm so glad the action was gripping and vivid enough for you!! I don't love writing action scenes because it can be a lot of moving parts, but I try my best to make sure certain details stick out. And yesss Mato is on his A game now actually working with Dean! loll

felt a variety of emotions with this lol. sammy!!! i had a feeling he'd hear the commotion, so glad he's back!💓 (by now i think i've established my love for sam pretty well. 😂) i felt a bit confused too because cas what are you doinggg 😩 hopefully playing chess or something. 🤔 and it makes me sad that sam lost his hat, but his horse!!🥺 i'm not sure if it was his personal horse (like dean's baby) or not, however they shared a journey together :') wherever he ended up, i hope he's alright 💕

Oh I don't blame you loll. 😅 The "wtf?!" feeling with Cas was very intentional, even with the "yay!" of Sam being back in the game (even though he lost his hat and horse 🥲). But your instincts are right -- both of them were definitely playing chess on that one. I'm actually glad you wondered if it was Sam's personal horse because it's a thought I had and wondered if I should include that detail. In my head it wasn't his personal horse, but like you said, still a horse he shared a journey with. 💙 Though I also didn't specify this in the chapter, Cas/the soldiers took possession of Sam's horse, but he got him back afterwards (in the aftermath of it all).

phew 😅 also i cannot stop picturing the colonel from kfc every time sanderson gets mentioned 😭 white suit and all, the image won't leave my head loll

ahahaha yesss that's exactly what I was picturing, with Asmodeus's punk ass. 😂😂

absolutely beautiful <3 may he rest peacefully :(

Aw thank you for highlighting that line and Tahatan's dying words -- def one of my favorite lines for this entire series honestly.

i still don't like him but i will admit, this made me chuckle a little 😂 i really feel for mila and her people. it's just so unfair to be uprooted from your home like that :( and of course that grimy gremlin would go back on his word. the anxiety of it all 😩

Otaktay's redemption arc is slow on this one lol but I liked giving him that throwaway line. 😂

Oh yes, I drew historically from the "Trail of Tears" in American history, where the Native Americans/Indians were forced from their lands and they had to travel onwards to find new territory. It's a dark time that tends to be glossed over.

Yuuup gotta have our "bad guy goes back on his word" moment! 😅 If you've ever seen the movie Prince of Egypt, it's like that moment when the Jews are being chased after by the Pharaoh Rameses after he initially released them from slavery.

awwwww hell yeah i know that's right dean!!!😭🤍

hahaa YES! Dean's made his choice. 😌

ah yes that delicious pre-established relationship danger and peril angst, my hearttt 🥺 i love them sm<3

That moment where there's no time for goodbye, knowing you mind not see your loved one again. 🥲

i will admit this made me giggle 😭 I'm so sorry dean lmaoo :') the fight scenes were so cool though!! again, very vivid in my mind. didn't expect the otaktay save, but i'm glad he's gained some sense. and oh jack, i am glad he was spared but he fr just needs to distance himself from the colonel and his bs 🤠

ahaha I thought it was kinda funny too, ngl. 😂 Aw yay!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the fight scenes and that they felt vivid in your mind! Otaktay did step up, didn't he? Some new respect is brewing between him and Dean (finally), and you're very right loll. Jack just needs to go home and start a new life. Same with Cas and Benny tbh. 🥲

this was so cute 🥺 i was worried for her, but once again we see she's just as strong as she is stubborn loll

Oh yeah, Mila's still as tenacious and stubborn as ever! lol Pregnant ladies still kick ass, amirite? 😘

period benny. goodbyeeeeee and good riddance colonel 💅🏽 Šóta choosing peace was so mature of him, i'm glad he's not being so hotheaded anymore. completely understandable though given all that has happened.

Right?!! 😂 Begone, bitch~

And Šóta is finally maturing -- his father's death hit him hard, and he's learning what it takes to be a true leader. 💜

crying. just the sweetestttt 💞💞 to no one's surprise, i'm so glad sam decided to stay longer 🤣💗 given the circumstances i'm not sure how often he would be able to visit once he returns to his city civilian life, but at least for now he gets to spend time with his brother and good people -- family :3💘

Sam wants to stay with his bro as long as possible now that he's found him, especially for his nephew's birth. 🥹 And for that reason too (not knowing if he'll be able to visit again, or if so, how often). Family indeed! 💞💞

this had me meltinggggg 💓 they're going to be the sweetest parents. they're already so sweet to each other, i can't 🥺

You know, I did intend to stop here with Mila and Dean, but maaaaybe I'll have to come back to see how they're doing as parents and pillars of their tribe. 😏💓

sobbing. i love them so much, this was the most beautiful ending 💕 another wonderful series zep!!🤍:)

Omg thank you so much, Julia!! You don't know how wonderful it's been to get your support on this very niche little series that I didn't know if anyone would even want to read. 🥹 I always appreciate your input, but especially on The Honorable Choice/Outlander series. 💕

Outlander - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester!! 🥳 Now, the actual grand finale…

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, blood and violence, angst, fluff, and spice.~

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: One People

Dean straps on his bow and arrow, but first he takes up his gun from his thigh holster. Then he saddles up Mato and climbs up on his back.

The horse is raring to go, and for once he responds to the firmness of Dean’s tone and trusts him enough to obey his commands.

Šóta, Otaktay, and the other men do the same with their horses. Soon, they’re thundering down the hill into the village.

It’s already chaos.

Dean recognizes the blue uniforms of the U.S. Cavalrymen tearing through tipis and shooting with rifles and revolvers. They must’ve tracked Šóta and his men back to the village.

Men and horses are the main targets, but women and children are getting caught in the crossfire. Šóta purposefully knocks his horse into an officer who had his weapon aimed at Misae and her two daughters. Otaktay guides them in the opposite direction, pointing the way to escape into the forest.

Dean rides onward through the village. He and Mato leap over fallen bodies and horses, and Dean shoots at an officer who would’ve shot him first. He has to be careful with his bullets though. He only has two left.

He fights his way to the center, all the while searching for any sight of Mila’s dark hair. It’s almost impossible to see with so many people running and screaming and fighting. But when he hears a familiar voice, Dean cuts to an abrupt stop.

Chief Tahatan rides his horse, white and dappled black. He wields an ax as the horse rears up on his hind legs and lets loose a powerful bray. Just ahead of him is Colonel Sanderson, flanked by Benny and another officer. The Colonel holds a rifle poised in his hands.

“Stop!” Dean shouts.

He rides hard towards the scene. He takes aim with his gun, and he shoots. The bullet clips Sanderson in the shoulder. Yelling in pain, he recoils from the force of the bullet and misses his shot.

Dean’s just not fast enough.

The Colonel’s bullet ricochets off the ground and hits Tahatan’s horse. The animal whinnies and buckles, and he brings Tahatan down along with him, rolling onto his side and crushing the Chief’s legs and most of his torso under the horse’s weight. Dean hears the crunch of bone as the Chief utters a stifled grunt.

Gritting his teeth, Dean brings Mato to a short stop in front of the Chief. Dean aims his gun at the Colonel. By now, the man is clutching his bleeding shoulder and staring at his former captain in disbelief. Benny is maybe a little less shocked to see Dean, but there’s conflict in his eyes—happiness mixed with turmoil.

The other officer is Jack Kline. He recognizes Dean too, with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

“You…” Sanderson trails. He blinks, his brows furrowing. “Dean Winchester.”

Other officers come to join him, both on their horses and on foot. A few of them have wrangled women and their children, along with a few men. One man is dragging Mila along by the arm, even though she pulls and struggles against his hold. He has a long, jagged cut over one closed eye that streams with blood, and Dean doesn’t have to wonder how it got there. The man holds Mila’s own knife to her throat.

Dean’s heart falls into his stomach as he meets her gaze. Hers is angry, until she finds him. Her brown eyes are relieved and hopeful, but then worried for him. Dean reads it all there. He knows her face as well as he knows his own.

“Now this is what we call an interesting development,” Sanderson says, dragging Dean’s attention back to him.

Dean only feels moderately better when Šóta, Otaktay, Chatan, and a couple of the other men come to flank him on either side. Weaya manages to shuffle away from the officer at her back, just to go to Tahatan. He’s still lying there under his horse, breathing shallowly. Šóta itches to climb down from his horse and go to his father, but he can’t allow Dean to stand on his own.

“Apparently your death has been greatly exaggerated, son,” Sanderson says. He glances at Benny, who wears a grim, guilty frown.

“I’m not your fucking son,” Dean says, his voice laden with grit. His hand tightens on his raised gun.

Sanderson tsks at him while Jack wraps a rag tightly around his arm to help stem the bleeding. Afterwards, he adjusts his blue jacket and his Stetson.

“Is this really how you’ve been living for all these months? Like a dog, sleeping in the thatch with the fleas,” he remarks as he glances around. But his gaze stops on Mila. His brows crunch together as recognition dawns in his eyes.

“Ah, now I see why,” he says. He reaches for his pistol at his belt and points it at Mila, like it’s merely an extension of his hand. Dean’s jaw clenches. Chatan and Šóta become even more tense; their horses shift in place, picking up on their riders’ unrest. Sanderson notes their reactions, and finally Dean’s too.

“Instead of putting this savage bitch down, you took her for yourself, didn’t you?” Sanderson wonders aloud. His face breaks into amusement, as his deep chuckle echoes in the clearing. “You threw it all away. A promising career, your respect as a man, and even your life. A traitor to your goddamn country. And for what?”

His thumb pulls back the safety on his revolver.

“Enough, you bastard. You deal with me,” Dean tersely demands. He slowly lowers his gun, and his last bullet. “Let her go. Let them all go, and you can have me. Court martial me. Hell, put me in front of a firing squad, or put me down like a dog if that’s what you want… But let them go.” 

Mila breaths in sharply. She stares at Dean like she wants to protest.

“Ah, but ya see, I didn’t come here for you,” Sanderson says. Without taking his aim off Mila, his shifts his gaze down to Tahatan, who struggles for every breath. “I’m gonna wash this land clean, from here to the West Coast. However long it takes.”

“Colonel!” an officer calls out. He approaches on a horse, though he leads a man by a rope that ties his wrists behind his back.

Dean’s eyes widen in shock. It’s Cas, and he has Sam as his captive. Sam is dirtier and more disheveled since Dean saw him off not too long ago. He’s lost his hat and his horse, but he doesn’t look afraid when he meets Dean’s gaze, then the assessing Colonel.

“Mr. Winchester. I should’ve known,” Sanderson says dryly. “Here to reacquaint yourself with your brother? Though I’ve got a feeling you already have.”

“What’re you gonna do about it? Kill me?” Sam says. “In case you’ve forgotten, I work for the government too. I’m a prosecutor for all the surrounding counties in Kansas City.”

Sanderson raises a brow. “Is that supposed to intimidate me, son?”

“It should, Colonel,” Sam says. He nods at his brother. “The world already thinks he’s dead. Fine. But there’s plenty of people who know I traveled to Fort Laramie. People high up in the chain of command. If you hurt me, my brother, or these people, someone’s gonna hear about it. And soon.”

“He’s got a point there, Colonel,” Benny says.

“You shut the fuck up!” Sanderson barks at his captain. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you down where you stand. You and Novak. But believe you me, I’ll be dealin’ with you later.”

Sanderson continues to seethe. He thinks hard about the decision he makes next as he stares down at Sam, and then back up at Dean. He grits his teeth, his mustache twitching. Dean holds his breath, though he briefly meets eyes with his brother.

Slowly, Sanderson lowers his weapon away from Mila. Dean can breathe again, if shallowly. He doesn’t drop his guard though. In fact, he watches Sanderson even closer.

“I’ll give you dirty mongrels one hour to clear out of here,” Sanderson says, his eyes narrowed. “Anything left gets tied down and burned to charcoal.”

With that, he sharply tugs on his horse’s reins. He commands his men to fall back, and like the soldiers they are, they obey. Benny and Cas both cast Dean a backwards glance���one that tells Dean that he still has the loyalty of his friends. He now realizes that Cas brought Sam back for a purpose; it wasn’t to hurt him, but to help him. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole “capture” was Sam’s idea.

After the soldiers clear out of the area with the Colonel, Dean and the other men dismount from their horses. He beelines for Mila, gathering her into the safety of his arms. Then he spares a hand to grab his brother’s shoulder as he smiles.

“I think I’m more glad to see you the second time,” Dean remarks.

“I’ll take that,” Sam says. His grin is infectious, but Dean returns his attention to his wife. He touches her cheek and runs his assessing gaze over her body. He frowns as he examines the thin cut along her neck where the soldier pressed the blade of her knife.

“You okay? Are you hurt?” he asks.

Mila shakes her head. “I’m fine.” Though she inspects him the same way with a wandering hand across his chest. Dean takes that hand and gives her a reassuring smile.

It falls when he hears Weaya crying. She sits beside three other women, including Šóta’s mother.

“Father,” Šóta says lowly. His voice is a rasp as he kneels beside Tahatan’s broken body, holding his hand. The chief manages to raise his head slightly. He looks at his son, and then his gaze travels. Eventually, it falls on Dean.

Tahatan smiles.

“Under this sky,” he says. “We are one people.”

 He takes three more labored breaths before his eyes close. Šóta lays his father’s limp hand over his chest, which no longer moves.

Šóta’s mother gently raises her husband’s head to remove his long headdress. Among other things, it’s made of leather, glass beads, horsehair, and eagle tail feathers. Each feather represents a warrior’s honor earned in war, like a soldier’s insignia. 

With shaking hands, she places it on Šóta’s head. He takes a deep breath, and he looks up at the many tear-stained faces that mirror his own.

“We have to go,” he says.

Sam stays to help mobilize the tribe. He helps a mother join her children into one of the caravans, then he and Otaktay heft rolled up tipis and supplies into the back of it.

“You are a law man?” Otaktay asks him.

Sam nods. “That’s right.”

“Make better laws,” Otaktay says, and walks away.

Sam is left with a bemused look on his face. Dean comes over and thumps him on the back.

“Making friends?” he says dryly.

“Don’t think so,” Sam replies. He shakes his head and follows his brother over to the second caravan.

“Eh, consider yourself lucky. That guy pretty much hates my guts,” Dean whispers.

Sam raises his brows. “What?”

Dean explains the story in its simplest, briefest terms. Meanwhile, the mood around their packing is somber and quiet.

For Mila, it feels wrong. It’s wrong for them to have to leave the river where they’ve tilled and nurtured the land for three generations. It’s wrong to leave Chief Tahatan’s body wrapped beside Takoda’s on the hill without at least one proper night of mourning. She feels her grief down to her very core, but all she can do is sit in the caravan beside her mother and hold protective hands around the small swell of her stomach. Her tears fall silently down her cheeks and dissolve between the indigo beads on her dress.

She only raises her head when Chatan comes to check on her and her mother. He touches Mila’s cheek, drying her tears there. He leans in to kiss Weaya’s hand.

“We leave soon,” he says.

“Where is Dean?” Mila asks.

“Helping Šóta,” Chatan replies, but he stops short and corrects himself. “He helps our Chief.”

A few moments later, the caravans begin to move as the horses pull with the reins. Šóta leads at the front with a few of the warriors, but the rest of them ride strategically around and behind the caravans. Sam and Dean fall back to ride beside Mila’s caravan, where Chatan sits at the helm. Sam has been given the horse of a fallen warrior, while Dean rides Mato.

Despite how low she feels, Mila smiles at the sight of her horse allowing Dean to ride him, even with a saddle and bridle.

“Mato is being agreeable,” she remarks.

“You sound surprised,” Dean says, teasing slightly. “Told you I’d get him to trust me eventually.”

“More like wear him down,” she quips back.

“Hey, he impregnated my mare. Without my say so, I might add. I’d say we’re proper father and son-in-law.”

“Yes,” Chatan chimes in wryly. “That is what that means.”

Mila scoffs at him, but the gleam of good humor in his eyes amuses her. She smiles as she rubs a hand over her belly. Dean smiles too. It’s strange that he can still do that after a night like tonight, but seeing Chatan do it, along with Sam, and Mila, and her mother too, it gives him hope for them—for all of them.

Until the first gunshot fires into the air.

Dean freezes. His body coils tight, and he turns to look sharply over his shoulder.

He shouldn’t be surprised that Colonel Sanderson went back on his word. His cavalrymen are gaining behind them on horseback, hooting and hollering like it’s a game for sport. His jaw clenching in both anger and determination, Dean tells Chatan to speed up the caravan. He locks eyes with Mila for a moment.

Be safe, he tries to say with that look.

Then he gives Sam a nod; together they speed up to alert Šóta at the front.

“They’re gaining on us,” Dean says, gesturing behind them. “We need to lead them away from the caravans and pick ‘em off—as many as we can.”

Šóta nods in grim agreement, but he has a moment of hesitation as he considers Dean.

“You go with the caravans,” he says.

Dean shakes his head. “No, I’m ending this. Once and for all.”

“You are willing to fight your people?” Šóta asks.

The set of Dean’s determined face doesn’t change.

“I’m protecting my people,” he says. He looks to Sam. “Stay with the caravans. Make sure they get across the river.”

Sam agrees, and the men split ways. Dean turns Mato away from the group along with Šóta and Otaktay, and a few other warriors. The caravans continue with Sam to help guide them. Mila clings to the edge and watches with growing dread as her husband rides farther and farther away from her.

Dean can’t allow himself to look back. Instead of drawing his gun, he reaches for his bow strapped to his back and an arrow from his quiver. He takes aim at the first soldier he sees raise his gun, along with a steadying breath, and he shoots his arrow before the other man can fire. The arrow embeds itself in the man’s chest and knocks him clean off his horse.

Šóta and Otaktay follow suit. They shout out yips and battle cries on the air as they take aim. The soldiers begin to scatter out of their formation. They weren’t expecting the Lakota to go on the offensive. Sanderson has conveniently let his men ride ahead of him, but Dean hears him giving the orders from behind. The Colonel has his left arm wrapped in a sling while he holds his gun aloft.

“All right, mustang,” Dean says to Mato, tightening his hands on the reins. “Remind ‘em why they should be scared a’ you.”

He gives the stallion a subtle kick. It’s just enough for him to pick up into a full gallop. Dean tucks his head down and lets the horse speed forward like a bullet carving across the plain. The soldiers take aim, but that’s when Šóta and Otaktay join in from behind. They begin to take down the uniformed men, one by one as they weave between bullets. 

Dean tears between two officers and unbalances them. Mato, with his big head and chest, bulldozes straight through them. They shout in surprise and fear, and one of them even topples off his horse. Dean banks left and turns Mato around to finish what he started.

He retrieves his knife from his thigh holster and slices into one man’s neck, making him choke on his own blood. Dean forcefully takes the rifle off another man, and after flipping it around, hits him dead between the eyes with the butt of it—once, then twice until his nose breaks. He careens back off his horse into the dirt. Dean wracks the rifle and shoots the man for good measure.

The sound of a safety clicking back alerts him and turns his head, but he’s too late.

An arrow flies into the officer’s throat.

Dean looks over sharply. He finds Otaktay, lowering his bow.

Dean’s eyes widen. The other man just saved his life.

Dean nods in thanks, and Otaktay slowly returns the gesture. The moment is cut short, however, when Dean sharpens in alarm. Instead of opening his mouth to warn, he knows he has no time, not even to grab another arrow. He just throws his knife.

It carves through the air and hits Jack Kline where his arm meets his shoulder—his shooting arm that would’ve clipped Otaktay with his pistol. Jack falls off his horse and hits the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs in a hot rush. He groans in pain while clutching his arm. It’s not an easy wound, but he’ll live…as long as Otaktay doesn’t kill him first. Still on his horse, he towers over the younger man with another arrow notched.

“Wait!” Dean shouts.

He meant what he said about finishing this, but now looking at Jack, all Dean sees is a kid following orders. He doesn’t deserve to die like this, hundreds of miles away from home, just trying to make something of himself.

Otaktay looks up, wasting a precious second. Another beat, and a bullet tears into him, almost forcing him off his horse. Dean grits his teeth and speeds forward. Šóta rejoins them in time to help lead Otaktay away; he’s been hit in the side. There’s no telling how deep, but all Dean can focus on is the path ahead.

He comes face to face with Colonel Sanderson.

Dean raises his bow and arrow and ducks his head against another bullet, still shooting off his arrow. It misses its aim at the horse’s legs, but it spooks him enough to whinny in distress. It begins to buck off the Colonel.

“Whoa!” he shouts, trying to take back control of the horse. Dean rides in close and cracks a fist across Sanderson’s face. His head whips back with a pained grunt. Dean grabs his wrist and twists, until he feels tendons popping and the gun loosened from the other man’s hand. Then, Dean brings his elbow up into Sanderson’s nose and spills blood.

“Fuck!” Sanderson growls. He manages to land a punch of his own with his left arm, despite how it makes his shoulder bleed again. Dean recovers from the blow to his cheek and goes to grab that wound, digging in his fingers hard. He’s satisfied by the howl of pain Sanderson lets loose.

Dean doesn’t care if it’s a dirty tactic. He’s taking any opportunity he can, because right now, it’s not about his honor. It’s about protecting what’s his.

But Sanderson fights back just as dirty. He grabs Dean by the back of his neck and headbutts him, so hard he sees stars. Sanderson lands one more kick to Dean’s chest that almost sends him off of Mato. Dean has to grab on tight to the saddle and pull himself up, just in time for a lassoed rope to circle around his neck. Dean’s eyes fly wide in alarm. He slips his hand between the rope and his neck just in time before it tightens—because Sanderson tugs hard as he urges his horse into a gallop.

“Aw, sh—” Dean is yanked off Mato. He lands hard in the dirt, before he begins to be dragged across it.

Once again, the current is strong across Little Cheyenne. The first caravan has more horses to pull it through, but the caravan that Chatan is trying to lead starts to take on water. Mila and her mother sit behind him, along with Misae and her daughters, Tahatan’s widows, and Eyota and her husband.

The colt is doing his best to keep going, but Baby and two of the other horses are struggling in the pull of the river. They’ve hit a deeper patch under the water, and now it’s all the way up to Baby’s chest. She can’t handle the weight of the caravan along with the river’s current.

Sam comes closer with rope in hand, but Mila can see in his eyes that he’s trying to decide what to do. She grasps the edge of the caravan to pull herself up, and she points to the black mare.

“She needs help!” she calls out to him.

“Mila, sit down!” Chatan orders.

Mila turns back to her father with a determined set to her face. She knows his ankle has never healed entirely right. If he tries to do what she’s about to do, he’d probably fall into the river and get trampled by the horses. She knows what she must do.

She carefully stands up all the way and moves to the edge of the caravan, ignoring her father and mother trying to stop her. Sam’s eyes grow wide, but he tries to come in closer to support her. She steps out onto Baby’s back and slides into an astride position. The frigid water climbs up Mila’s dress and reaches her waist, making her shiver, but she ignores that too. She reaches out for Sam.

“Throw me the rope!” she calls out.

Sam follows her lead and does what she says. Mila not only catches the rope, but loops the ends of it around Baby’s bridle and around her chest. It’s hard work, especially because Mila has to tread water just to get the rope around the mare’s wide chest, but Sam helps her as much as he can.

When they’ve finished securing the ropes, Sam pulls ahead. With his horse leading Baby, she gets the momentum she needs to climb out of the dip, and eventually, cross the rest of the river.

Mila is sopping wet by the time they make it to the other side. Her braid has come loose, and so her hair becomes a black curtain around her face. She clings to Baby as she catches her breath, stroking the horse’s neck.

“Good girl. Big, strong girl,” she soothes. “Your father will be proud of you.”

Speaking of, Mila turns to look back. Across the river, the men are still fighting off the soldiers that sought to finish what they started last night. Mila scans with narrowed eyes for Dean.

“You all right?” Sam asks. He sidles up next to her and grasps her shoulder to make sure.

“Fine,” she breathes.

But she hesitates on a sharp inhale. Her brows furrow as she tries to make sure of what she’s seeing. Her mouth drops open in shock.

“Sam!” She points out the shape of a man she thinks is Dean. Sam follows her line of vision and becomes just as alarmed at what he sees.

Mila immediately takes her father’s knife from her shoe and cuts the ropes that bind Baby to the caravan. Mila puts her fingers to her lips and whistles sharply instead of kicking the mare. Baby sharpens to attention and heeds the command, just like she’s done for Dean a hundred times before.

Mila guides her back through the river.

Dean is being road hauled across the plain. He hits every bump, rock, twig, and dry patch of dirt in several yards as he twists and struggles to break free.

He lost his knife to save Otaktay, and he’s probably lost all his arrows along with his bow. Dean grits his teeth, as he can hear Sanderson’s insane hooting and hollering on the wind whipping past his ears, and not much else.

He doesn’t know where Šóta is, or if even Otaktay’s still alive, but his last thoughts aren’t about them. Instinctively, he thinks of his wife. It’s not even a coherent thought. It’s just her name, her face, her hand on his heart.

And the rope snaps.

Dean grunts as his momentum slows. He rolls across the dirt and grass to a stop. He probably has road burns and cuts and bruises all down his back, but at least he can stare up at the morning sun and breathe.

Heaving for free air, he tugs the rope from around his neck and shoves it off. He hears familiar horse hooves galloping his way. Somehow, he manages to raise his head.

Now, either the sun is playing tricks on him, or a black shape is thundering towards him.

Apparently, his eyes aren’t lying to him. Baby slows to a stop, and Mila climbs down from her back. Mila rushes to his side and kneels beside him after putting away her knife. She takes his face into her gentle hands.

“Dean?” she says, her voice tinged with desperation.

He grabs onto her wrist and smiles weakly, looking up at her soulful brown eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says.

She sighs and shakes her head, despite the tears in her eyes.

“Be quiet,” she laughs. Dean just grins.

She cups the back of his neck and guides him up slowly into a sitting position. His back is a bloody mess, but they’ll deal with that later.

“You all right, brother?”

Dean’s smile drops. He clutches at Mila’s arm protectively, but he looks up at Benny Lafitte. His horse shifts in place. Dean finally notices Sam is there too, with his gun trained on Benny. But Benny’s gun is raised right back at Sam.

They’re joined by Colonel Sanderson. He wears a self-satisfied look on his face as he approaches with his pistol held aloft.

“Well, well,” he drawls. “Ain’t this a picture. Traitors and savages.”

Mila keeps her back to the Colonel; she stubbornly defends Dean with her body, even though he’s gathered her to his chest protectively. With his right hand, he subtly reaches for the gun holster at his thigh. One last weapon. One last shot.

He shares a look with Mila, silently asking her to trust him. She gives him a subtle nod.

“Captain Lafitte,” Sanderson addresses Benny, even though his gaze is straight on Dean and Mila. He holds Sam in his periphery. “Now’s the time to take a stand. Are you gonna serve your country and put these three in the ground where they belong, or are you gonna join ‘em?”

Benny stares back at his superior officer. He thought he understood before, but today is when he truly understands why Dean made his choice.

Benny lowers his weapon down to his side.

“This ain’t the law,” he says. “This ain’t justice. It’s just pride, plain and simple. Your pride, Colonel.”

After a moment of genuine surprise, Sanderson rolls his eyes. He shifts his gun off of Sam and points it at Benny next.

A trigger fires, but the bullet that hits its mark is not the Colonel’s.

It’s Dean’s, and it hits Asmodeus Sanderson between the eyes.

Dean lowers his silver, smoking Colt down at his side, where Mila moved just in time for Dean to take his shot. He holds her to him now, taking in deep breaths.

Benny and Sam both look to Dean with shock still in their eyes, but before either of them can say anything, they notice Cas stumbling over on foot with a wounded Jack Kline leaning heavily on him. They’re flanked on both sides by Šóta and Otaktay. The latter has a cloth tied tight around his middle. His bullet wound just looks like a nasty graze.

The other warriors that remain follow behind, and they have Mato and Baby in tow by their bridles.

Dean realizes that Cas and Jack are the only other survivors from the rest of the unit. Šóta has taken them prisoner. He orders the other men to force Benny off of his horse. They shove him closer to Cas and Jack.

Dean quickly tries to raise up onto his knees, though it’s hard for him to stand. Mila helps him the rest of the way, and he keeps his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“We will make an example of these,” Šóta says, nodding at Cas, Jack, and Benny. They look rightly nervous, shifting their gazes towards Dean.

Dean raises his hands to placate Šóta (and hopefully reassure his friends).

“Šóta, I know these guys. They were my men,” he says. “They were just following the Colonel’s orders.”

“And what does that mean to me, Dean Winchester?” Šóta says. He climbs down from his horse, his headdress of feathers tousled as a breeze rushes through.

“It means they won’t follow us,” Dean says. “They won’t tell the Army what actually happened here. They’ll keep their word if I ask them to. So I’m asking you…trust me. Trust me like you’ve trusted me before.”

Šóta seems to consider it, even though he doesn’t exactly like the idea. Otaktay seems to like it even less.

“We won’t betray you, Chief,” Benny says to Šóta, and to the other warriors. “We respect you, and we don’t want any more trouble. For us, or for Dean.”

Šóta considers this with a tilt of his head. Before he decides, first, he turns to Otaktay. Other than Dean, he’s now the man Šóta trusts most.

Otaktay looks over at Dean. Between them, there’s an understanding. Finally, there’s also respect. Otaktay returns his gaze to his leader, and he nods.

Šóta expels a deep breath. He addresses the three soldiers.

“Go. Go in peace, or next time, there will not be peace,” he says.

The soldiers breathe in relief.

Dean steps forward with Mila’s help. There he shakes each man’s hand. He’s said goodbye to Cas and Benny before, but somehow, this feels even more final than the last.

Benny and Cas are given back their horses. They help Jack up first, then Cas climbs up with him. Benny mounts his own horse, and Sam, Dean, and the Lakota watch them leave the way they came.

It takes days to cross the plains and maneuver through the mountains, but Šóta leads the rest of the tribe to safety within Sioux territory. They find a place to settle along the Big Cheyenne River, northeast of the Black Hills.

There they will learn the land and what to plant and forage there for the late autumn harvest, as summer ends. There is where they will honor the dead who couldn’t make the journey. There is where their traditions will be celebrated, old and new.

Like today. The men have painted each other with blue circles around their faces and blue lines across their foreheads, chins, and cheekbones. The women are painted similarly in red. It symbolizes change in its many forms, but most of all, it symbolizes new relationships, and new responsibilities.

Today, it’s Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. This ceremony formally welcomes Dean into the tribe by marriage. It also recognizes Sam as his brother, and so, it acknowledges Sam as a friend to their tribe as well. They are now all family. One people.

Dean sits with his brother around the large firepit, where a roasted boar is already half-eaten. Dean has shared a lot of meals with these people, but somehow, this one is the best he’s ever eaten. Maybe it’s the company, he thinks, as he laughs at some old story Sam is trying to tell.

“No, no, no, that’s not what happened. Let me tell it—”

“What, so you can make stuff up?”

“Oh, I’m making stuff up?”

Mila giggles quietly, but it’s enough to earn Dean’s attention. She sits at his left, and he turns to her with an amused smile.

“What’re you laughing at?” he teases. His arm wraps around her waist and pulls her in.

“You,” she replies. “You and your brother. You’re worse than me and Šóta.”

Dean chuckles and shakes his head. He points over at her cousin, their esteemed Chief, who’s busy making shadow creatures with exaggerated voices to impress the kids. Right now, it’s a big grizzly bear that threatens to eat the closest child.

“Worse than the grizzly?” Dean says.

“Hmm, maybe not,” she says with a laugh.

That evening, Dean is glad he convinced Sam to start sleeping in his own tipi. He agreed to stay until Mila has the baby, but while Dean is grateful to have his brother here for a few more months, he still wants some much-needed privacy with his wife.

He “helps” her undress for bed, all the while distracting her with lingering kisses across her neck and shoulders, winding his fingers into her long hair. He wraps his arms around her and cups her full breasts from behind, satisfied by the arousing way she moans.

“They’re heavier,” Dean whispers in her ear, gently squeezing her breasts. She hums in response. “Your thighs and hips are thicker too, nice and soft for me.” He squeezes those too for good measure.

“I am changing,” she admits. “Are they good changes?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean says, his lips moving against her throat. He gently turns her around and guides her down to lay on the bedding and furs. He palms at the best change of all—the growing swell of her belly. She’s gotten bigger, and growing a little more each week. Dean really wants to meet his kid.

He dips down to lay a path of slow, tender kisses down between her breasts, and over her belly. Mila smiles and threads her fingers through his hair. It’s getting long, brushing past his ears.

“Do you want a son, or a daughter?” she asks him. It’s not the first time she’s asked, but she wonders if his answer will change now, after everything they’ve gone through to get here. She finds that her own answer hasn’t changed.

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t care. Either one.”

All he wants is for the baby to be healthy, and for Mila to be healthy too. He moves back up to claim her lips. When he kisses her like this, he hopes she knows what he’s really saying. Just in case, he says it anyway. He says it out loud to her for the first time.

“I love you,” he says. He pauses, then smiles a little. “You know, you’re the only woman I’ve ever said that to.”

She smiles, because she knows. With her hand over his heart, she knows.

And when their son is born a few months later, she has a dream. She dreams of an eagle’s wings that shift from white to gold in the light.

Dean plans to give him a name he picked out weeks before, Elijah. It was his father’s middle name. But she will also give their son a name.

Ikíphi, the name her uncle, Chief Tahatan, gave Dean Winchester himself.

Because one day, she knows her son will be worthy of it.

AN: And there we have it! A more definitive end to Dean and Mila's story. 🥹

For those of you who read and enjoyed this, thank you so much for sticking with me through this sequel of The Honorable Choice. This was an idea that wouldn't let go of me once I started, and it's the first time that I've written something like this. 💖💖

Pronunciation Guide:

Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew") Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

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[shalomniscient]

hi! may i request nsfw hcs of shalom in a sundress? 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

anon u r so galaxy brain for this............. licherally feeding my shalom delusions HLDSJHDLSJHD

(SUN)DRESS || shalom x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. cunnilingus, praise, pet names (pretty girl), mentions of public sex, fingering, strap-ons, riding

notes. this takes place post-canon :) also features implied chief!reader, because i can’t really see shalom ever truly falling for anyone else (sorry rahu 😔😔) also this is more fic than hcs because i wasn’t sure what to write for hcs….. sorry anon 😭😭😭

Shalom doesn’t wear sundresses often, but God help you when she does. The dress is form fitting and loose in the best of places, and it makes her seem almost ethereal, like she walked right off the set of some whimsical romance movie.

She enjoys the breeziness of the dress, and the amount of movement it allows—both very useful for when she convinces you to fuck her while she’s wearing it.

More often than not, she won’t be wearing anything underneath, allowing you very easy access to her cunt whenever you please. You could even tug the neckline down, if you so pleased, to access her full breasts. All this culminates in Shalom often testing your self control when you’re in public. Sometimes you wonder if she really does want you to just hike her dress up ever so slightly and fingerfuck her until she sees stars in some mall bathroom or a less visited corner of a park.

She likes to keep it on even in the comfort of your own home, and you’re not complaining much. She looks like a fucking vision when she rides your strap, her pretty little dress flowing and fluttering with each movement. Or when she’s on her back, silky hair splayed on the bed lile a halo as you fuck into her, dress bunched around her hips so you can see the way her cunt swallows your strap.

All in all, between the two of you, a sundress has become an unspoken invitation for sex. It’s a little unorthodox, but that’s the name of the game in your relationship, so you very much don’t mind at all.

Shalom is a woman whose every move is calculated. You know this from experience. From every move she makes, to every word she speaks, nothing is without purpose. It is a remnant from her days as a HUSH—though you’ve ensured she’ll never return to that life, it is nonetheless difficult for her to completely abandon that way of life after having lived it for a torturous amount of years.

All of this is to say that, Shalom deciding to go commando in a sundress today was 100% something she planned, even if she smiles and tells you otherwise.

Shalom looks real fucking good in a sundress, and she knows it. The bodice cut of the dress just makes the hourglass of her figure even more prominent, the wide neckline showing off her collarbones and her ample chest, usually obscured in her loose blouse and bulky Paradeisos-issued jacket.

The dress itself is a pastel shade of wine-red, a little lighter than her hair. Thin spaghetti straps show off her shoulders, and God, that open back—really, it was quite the achievement you lasted as long as you did.

Shalom laughs airily as you pick her up by her thighs and press her against a wall of your home. You felt like you’d been tortured the entire morning on what was supposed to be a peaceful promenade around town on a lovely summer morning. Instead, the mere sight of her in that damned dress has left your thoughts in complete and utter disarray. Now that you’re back in the privacy of your own home though, you press hot, open mouthed kisses against the pale column of Shalom’s neck like a woman starved, while her legs wrap around your waist.

“Eager, aren’t we?” she teases, fingers winding in your hair as you kiss lower, tongue and teeth laving at her collarbones.

“Wanted you the moment you put this fucking dress on,” you rasp. “Almost couldn’t wait to get home.”

Shalom chuckles at that. “Poor little thing.” It turns into a pleased groan when your hands find the globes of her ass and squeeze appreciatively, your thumbs rubbing circles over the indent of her hips. You swallow all of her noises with a greedy, devouring kiss. Fuck, you just can’t get enough of her.

“Pretty girl,” you mutter, as your hands slip under her dress. “So fucking pretty, all for me, hm?”

“All for you,” Shalom breathes out readily, eyes blowing wide as she watches you sink to your knees. The floor is hard, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when you come face to face with her bare, dripping cunt. She holds the lower half of her dress up for you, letting it bunch around her hips as you dive in.

The first stripe you lick along her sweet cunt has her sighing in pleasure. Slim fingers wind tightly in your hair as she tugs you closer to her sex, your nose pressing against her stiff clit. One of your hands grips her thigh and throws it over your shoulder, giving you more access to her. Shalom moans, high and loud as you plunge your tongue into her waiting cunt, lapping up her slick right from her twitching hole.

You practically make-out with her pussy, the wet sounds of your tongue fucking in and out of echoing around the living room. You glance up at her, and blood rushes to your core when you note the flush in her cheeks and the way she bites her lower lip between her teeth. It inspires you to keep going, to make her shatter from pleasure, so you withdraw your tongue and replace them with two fingers instead, right to the knuckle.

Shalom cries out, a sound so beautiful you wish you could capture it and keep it forever. But you can’t, so you decide to just pull more of them from her lips. Her ankle digs into your back as her body tenses up, and you feel her cunt tighten around your fingers, even as you scissor and curl them just the way you know she likes.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart?” you ask softly, pressing kisses to her thighs. Her body trembles, and the fingers in your hair tighten.

“J-Just like that, my heart,” she says breathily, hips starting to jerk as she careens towards that high. “Oh, love, I’m—“

You take the oppurtunity to dive back in and wrap your lips around her poor, swollen clit and suck and that’s all it takes for her to cum all over your fingers with a loud cry, almost a scream. You replace your fingers with your tongue as you help her ride out her orgasm, not letting a single drop of her slick go to waste. You don’t stop until she’s pushing your head away, hips twitching from overstimulation.

At that, you rise to your feet, and she lets her dress fall back how it’s supposed to. The waist area is terribly crumpled, but neither of you really care. You place a hand on her waist as she catches her breath again, and you resist the urge to pepper more kisses along her flushed chest and neck. Shalom has always had a somewhat poor constitution, so breaks were necessary in between.

“I should wear sundresses more often,” she muses eventually, leaning her head against the wall and offering you a smug smirk. You roll your eyes, but what can you say when you played right into her hands?

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[captain-bubble-wrap]

While im at it: maybe a cute blurb about Quinn x reader when the have been together for a while and she gets her period unexpectedly when she’s sleeping over. I had that happened to me before and it was mortifying and embarrassing but i feel like quinn would be sweet about it and make her feel better. Also i get super emotional and teary and stuff when im on my period and in pain so maybe that could be part of the blurb as well?🥴🥹🥰

I hope this is alright, lovie! Hopefully it checks all the boxes!

Morning had come too early.

Quinn was up before you, as was normal most days, but today you were in no hurry to get around. You had awoken to a very peculiar pain and you knew what it had signaled, but there was always a part of you that hoped that maybe it was just something else. Every single time it happened, "maybe it's just a stomachache or something," you'd try to convince yourself. However, every time it came around it was the same old situation.

It was never a big deal when it happened at your house, but you were at Quinn's this time. And, unfortunately, you were met with a not-so-nice surprise when you finally rolled out of bed. There it was, the unmistakable red stain on his pale grey sheets. You'd sigh before stripping the bed, grabbing something new to wear and your bag, and tiptoeing to the bathroom, hoping Quinn wouldn't hear you. "Of all goddamn days," you'd mutter to yourself, just annoyed with how your day was starting. A little cold water and some friction would do the trick in releasing the blood from the fabrics but still...what a start to the morning.

After everything was taken care of, you'd finally leave the bathroom in no better mood than when you had gotten up.

The sheets and your clothes would get thrown in that day's laundry; out of sight, out of mind, for now anyway.

"Babe, what, uh...what happened to the sheets?" Quinn asked loudly, extremely confused by the state of his bedroom. He hadn't remembered leaving it like it was: blankets on the floor, pillows in a mountain beside them, and the sheets gone. You had made it to the kitchen; hugging your knees to your chest in the chair at the island, when he'd come looking for you.

"Baby?" He would ask again, "did you hear me?"

"Yeah, I um...I had to strip the bed. Sorry," you finally replied, turning your head away from him.

Standing beside you, he'd take a minute from what he was doing to check in with you. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh yeah, I'm...peachy," you said, rolling your eyes.

Quinn pouted, his lower lip quite pronounced though you weren't looking at him. He'd reach out to put his hand to your back but you'd shrug him off.

"I'm fine, Quinn. You don't have to hover." Pushing past him, you'd return to the bedroom and lock the door behind you. His pout was gone now, replaced with his sad, puppy eyes instead and a heavy feeling in his chest.

"Baby?" He asked, standing in front of the door. He'd try the knob, but upon finding it locked he would sigh. He didn't know what he had done to make you so mad and so quickly. "Can you tell me what's wrong? Or...what I did?"

By the time he had gotten to the door, you had already pulled a fresh set of sheets from one of the drawers beneath the bed and was in the process of remaking it, wishing this entire conversation would come to an end. He would continue to try and get you to talk to him, but you would simply ignore him as you kept working. In the moment, you didn't care how he felt, you just want him to stop pressing what was wrong. You'd have enough self-restraint to keep from yelling at him to leave you alone, but not much.

Defeated and shutout, Quinn shuffled back to the living room and sat down on the sofa. His heart hurt; you had never been mad at him like this before, not in person at least. What had he done? Eventually, the bed got made, new pillowcases and sheets, and thankfully you hadn't needed to do any spot treatment on the mattress topper. It was bad enough you had to rinse the sheet stain in the sink, trying to explain why the mattress was wet was something you were happy to avoid.

With the bedroom put back together, you grabbed up the rest of the linens and went to leave the bedroom. By then, you were feeling guilty about how you had snapped at Quinn and as you stood paused at the door, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. How could you have said (and thought) such things? Hormones were a dangerous thing to not have control over. Quietly, you turned the lock and stepped out. Sitting on the sofa was Quinn with his head in his hands. The sight broke you; the tears like a floodgate after you blinked. You'd drop what you were holding and run over to him in a hurry.

"Oh, Quinn, I'm so sorry!"

He turned towards you, hearing your socked feet against the hardwood floor, standing to take you into his arms. Quinn would hold you so tightly as you cried just over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I made you mad," he said softly.

"I shouldn't have been so mean to you! I'm the one who should be sorry!" Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sniffled, trying to contain your emotions but you were failing.

"What's wrong?" He asked, leaning his head against yours, hands still tight around your body. "Talk to me. Please?"

"I...I got blood on your sheets."

"That's okay, baby," he reassured, placing a kiss against your ear. "I don't care about that stuff. You should have just told me, I would have helped you. I could have taken care of everything for you."

"I couldn't have asked that of you. I did it..."

"It happens, sweetheart. It's natural; it doesn't gross me out, okay? Not a big deal at all."

Somehow, his kindness made you cry more, and you would dig your nails into his back, fearful he was going to pull away.

"I'm sorry I hurt your feelings," you wept.

Quinn shook his head slightly, "I'm okay, sweetheart. I just didn't know what had happened. You know you can talk to me about anything, you know? I'll never judge you for anything -- ever."

He truly wasn't like most guys, which made how you treated him earlier so much worse. "I can't believe I did that to you!"

"Shhh," he whispered, a hand now resting on the back of your head, the other low around your waist. "I'm not mad at you. Let me take care of you, today, hm?"

How could you let him do such a kindness to you when you were so sour with him mere moments ago? How was he so kind when he had every right to be upset and distant?

"No, baby," you declined, not because you didn't want him to dote on you, but because you didn't think you deserved it.

"Please? I want to."

There simply was no telling him -- no. Your silence would let him know you had folded and his soft words would leave you melting.

"Why don't you sit down while I go draw you a bath, okay?"

Reluctantly, you withdrew your hands from his back and let some space develop between the two of you. Quinn gave you a smile, wiping away the lingering tears from your cheek. His hand would caress it after, pulling you forward for a quick kiss.

"I won't be too long, okay? I'll get everything ready and I'll come get you."

You gave a nod, his hand falling away from your face slowly. Finding your seat at the island, you'd wait patiently for Quinn to return. You couldn't help but feel so guilty about having him do things for you, especially after you had made him feel so poorly. Maybe there was something you could do for him, but while you sat there and pondered, nothing came to mind.

Hearing doors open and close, you wondered what he was up to, but you'd stay where you were to avoid spoiling his surprise.

"Alright, sweetheart," Quinn said, walking to the end of the hallway. "Why aren't you sitting on the sofa?"

"I don't--," you stammered, finding it hard to find your words. "I didn't want to get anything...on it. Things happen...you know."

"And I'll take care of it, baby. Today is about you being comfortable."

You made your way over to him, trying not to be sad. "You're far too sweet."

Quinn shook his head, "I'm giving you exactly what you need."

"Quinny," you mumbled, your eyes feeling wet with tears again.

"All for you, sweetheart."

You'd allow him to lead you down the hall to the bathroom which was blanketed with steam. The air smelled like a multitude of different floral notes and the warmth of the room danced around your exposed skin.

"I'm going to give you some time alone to get comfortable then I'll be back to check on you."

- - -

There was a knock at the door.

"May I come in?" Quinn asked just on the other side.

"Mhm," you replied, submerged in the still steaming water just below your shoulders. Your hair was up, with a few tendril-like strands framing your face.

"Hello, beautiful." There was a mug in his hand as he approached you with another smile on his lips. There was nothing you loved more than seeing that genuine expression light up his face. You couldn't keep your stomach from doing a flip-flop feeling, just being overwhelmed with his sweet generosity.

"How are you feeling?" He asked handing you the cup. "Careful, it's hot."

"Thank you, baby, and I'm okay."

He pouted, playfully, "Aw, just 'okay'? I'll have to try harder I guess."

Before you could tell him there was nothing more he needed to do, due to the cup to your lips, Quinn stepped around to the back of the free-standing tub and put his hands on your shoulders. The feeling of his touch made your eyes roll up into your head slightly. His delicate fingers began to knead away any tension you had been carrying. You couldn't help but let the faintest moan escape your lips. Quinn didn't need to ask you if what he was doing felt okay, and you also wouldn't be able to see his smirk either. Lost in the bliss of his touch, your head would fall forward slightly. Quinn hinged slightly at his waist to be able to place the softest of kisses to your neck.

"I love you," he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

Goosebumps surged over your bare skin, feeling his breath against your neck. Now was not the time to want him in that way, but he was making it too easy.

"You're teasing me," you whined, your eyes still closed, but enjoying every single second of him on your skin.

"But do you feel good?"

"Mhm."

He grinned, placing, in quick succession, several more from your ear down the curve of your neck. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"No, baby, you've done more than enough," you replied, nearly breathless. "Thank you."

"You let me know when you're ready to get out, okay?"

"Maybe another ten minutes?"

Quinn nodded, letting his fingertips trail across your shoulders as he moved back towards the door. "Take your time."

Almost like he had set a timer, Quinn came back within ten or so minutes, a towel and stack of clothes in his arms.

"Fresh out of the dryer."

"Oh, Quinn," you said, taken aback by his kindness.

"Just trying to help."

- - -

The warm towel and clothes had been a nice transition from the bath water and had been something that hadn't crossed your mind to do or ask for. Just the thought of it again made you smile. It had been several minutes since Quinn had came to check on your which made you wonder what he could be up to now. Knowing him, it would be something for sure.

He had brought you one of his hoodies, a t-shirt, some leggings, and a pair of thick fuzzy socks; your usual "time-of-the-month" outfit. Quinn's observance was unapparelled. You dressed quickly and dealt with things in the bathroom before seeing what your man was up to.

"Quinny?" You asked, looking around.

"I was just about to see if you were alright!" He replied, meeting you in the hall. "How was your bath?"

"Wonderful," you said, giving him a kiss. "Thank you."

Quinn smiled, taking your hand. "One more thing for you."

"Baby," you whined, feeling he had simply done enough, but you'd follow him without hesitation.

There, in the living room, Quinn had the sofa all set up. There were pillows from the bedroom, a couple quilts folded back with a heating pad sandwiched in, and a towel down covering the cushion. Your eyes had migrated there first, which brought on a wave a guilt.

"It's just to ease your mind, baby," Quinn said, seeing the change in your mood. "I don't care what happens to the sofa. It's just stuff. This wasn't to make you feel bad."

"Okay," you mumbled, trying to stay happy, letting go of his hand to sit down. Quinn was quick to tuck you in, after placing the heating pad against your stomach.

"Baby, you don't have to do everything."

He just laughed, "I know. Here's the remote-thing for that, I didn't know how hot you would want it."

"It's perfect, sweetheart, thank you."

Quinn sat down beside you, his hand finding yours as you leaned your head on his shoulder. "Lunch?"

"Okay," you said yawning. That bath had really drained your energy, but everything had been perfect. "What do you want?"

"What do /you/ want?" He pressed, giving your hand a squeeze.

"I want a nap."

Quinn laughed again. He couldn't deny that a nap sounded pretty good to him as well. "Well, let's order something and we'll curl up for a nap?"

It was too late for you, because as soon as your eyes came to a close, hand-in-hand with Quinn, you were out.

"Babe?" He asked when you didn't answer him about lunch, but all he could do was chuckle quietly. "Nap first, then lunch. Fine with me."

[merlucide]

GIVING THEM A FLOWER CROWN!~ ♪

notes: aha… not my normal content! The alien stage brainrot has gotten to me and there is NOTHING for this fandom 😭

characters: Mizi, Sua, Till, Ivan, Luka, Hyuna

warnings: light curing, cringe but who gaf, not proofread

You carefully weaved the red flower stems together, fingers gently tugging on the petals to perfectly secure the crown. You examined your work, satisfied with the quality of your labor. You got up from the grassy shade you were sitting under and looked around for your s/o, whom you finally found in the cafeteria, sitting alone in a secluded corner munching on something to their liking.

Her eyes immediately brighten when seeing you hehe

She stands up from her spot and slams her hands onto the table

“Y/N! Guess what!! They’re letting me have sweets!! It’s just this once but still! Would you like some?”

To which you happily nod your head, letting her feed you a spoonful of strawberry shortcake.

“Isn’t it good? Ugh it’s amazing!” Mizi sighs happily, licking the frosting of her spoon.

“Everything all good though?” 

You fiddle with the petals behind your back, slightly nervous.

“Well, I have something for you, close your eyes!”

Mizi goes ‘😲’ to ‘😊’

She patiently waits for you give present her with whatever it is

You place the delicate crown onto her awaiting soft hands.

She blinks open her eyes and a bright smile adorns her pretty lips

“I- For me?! Really?! Oh wow!! It’s so pretty!” She gasps excitedly, her index finger hovering over the red petals barely touching the soft skin.

“How did you know these were my favorites?!” Mizi asked eyes wide

“Heh, well you’ve mentioned it to probably anyone who would listen, and they are the only flowers that grow freely in here,” You giggle, which a soft blush coats her cheeks. 

She whispers a soft “oh..!” 😮

You took the crown and place it on top of her pink hair

“So pretty, my princess,” you teased lovingly

She thinks something happened by the way you just speed past everyone straight to her lmao

“..Where you looking for me? Sorry, I should’ve told you where I was headed,” Sua softly said, wiping the corners of her mouth politely.

“Everything alright?”

To which you wave her off, saying simply ‘I just needed to see you,’ which makes her feel all mushy n’ loved ><

“Now! Close your eyes,” you playfully demand, which Sua obeys.

You take her hands and hold them out open for the crown

And then placed your creation in her palms

“Okay- open now!” 

Sua blinks her eyes, surprised at the sudden gift, a soft smile settles on her lips

“It’s so very pretty, y/n, thank you,” Sua beams, placing it upon her head.

“How do I look?” She asks

You look BEAUTIFUL Sua 🥹

You smile back at her, “Stunning as ever! Red is such a pretty color on you Sua.”

She then places a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to give you in return, I hope this will suffice for now,” Sua cheekily whispered. 

“Yeah, that took a lot of my time and energy so I’m gonna need a few moreeeee 😏”

Currently gouging little sandwiches down his throat lmao

He was scarfing it down like a starved man probably was ☹️

You’re unsure if he hears you or is simply in sandwich heaven because he isn’t responding to you calling his name ‘Till, Till, Till, TILL?? TILL?!?”

“TILL?” You almost yelled, tapping him

His head frantically shot up and distraughtly began choking and coughing.

Which you’re freaking out bc you though you just killed him somehow

You aggressively pat his back, flower crown long forgot on the floor lmao

His coughing fit calms down, and a tear slips down his red face. 

Just kill him now, he CANNOT look you in the eye after you just witnessed that

“Till?? Are-Are you okay?? Sorry- I didn’t mean to, scare you? Are you okay?” You awkwardly rub his back

“Fine.” He grunts out

He awkwardly clears his throat, fixing his gaze on the floor

“So um, didja uh, need anything..? Or something?”

“Oh yeah! Um, well I have you something, if that’s okay,”

Till blushed at the thought that you cared enough to give a gift to him

“Okay! Close you eyes!” You beamed

you bent down and picked up the crown.

He thought of every possible outcome it could be- his imagination likes the idea that the gift was a kiss >.<

Which has Till beet red, awaiting for a kiss that never came

“Alright- open your eyes!”

He peeled open his eyes, settling them on the flower headpiece you made

He was unsure what you had meant by this

Like?? You want me to wear it?

“What do you think? Hm?” You peered

“Y-you made this for me eh?” He awkwardly asked

You nodded as he took the crown from your hands and gave it a good look

“It’s very, ah, pretty..? Thank you y/n,” he gave a smile to you, putting the crown on the table

You softly frowned. “You’re not going to wear it?”

Oh Till wish he would have just shut his mouth-

“WHAAT? No!! Of course I am?! What the hell are you talking about!?” He scrambled to find something to say to make you happy again

Till aggressively put the crown on top of his head

“S-SEE?!” Till nervously yelled, causing a few heads to turn

You giggled at his reaction, oh he was so cute :3

“I’m glad you like it Till, mwah” you placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth

Till rn: 😳😦

Basically he’s broken yk

“Okay- I’m leaving now byeeeee!~” knowing what you just did left him a mess

“Out looking for me so soon?” He teased

“Oh hush would you,” you playfully snapped back, sitting beside him.

Ivan curiously leaned to see what you were hiding behind your back-

Which you leaned back further so he couldn’t heh

“Abababa!- No peeking, you’ll see soon enough,” you grin

Ivan dramatically sighs and sits back, waiting for what you’ll do next

You exhale “Alrighty, close you eyes,” 

Which Ivan did as you told

After a few times of peeking his eye open to annoy you just a bit

You grabbed his hands and opened them flat, and then put down the crown upon them.

Ivan opened his eyes and made a ‘:o’ face

He moved the crown around, looking at all of the intricate braidings you did

“..It’s lovely, thank you y/n,” Ivan grinned

He installed it on top of his head, making sure it’s secure. 

“Now, did you make this all special for me?” He coyly asked, already knowing the damn answer 🙄

You scoffed, you felt your face warming up at his teasing

“You’re so annoying..” 

Ivan rn:  :3

“Yes stupid, I made it just for you, because I love you. Happy with that answer?” You mocked lovingly. 

Ivan was kinda caught off guard at your honest answer tbh

His face was dusted with a glowing crimson, and eyes slightly widened

“Mn, good,” he softly smiled “I love you too,” 

He pressed a soft kiss to your hand and offered to make you a crown in return :)

(Luka + Hyuna’s parts doesn’t take place in Anakt Garden 🗣️)

He was aware of you nervously tip-toeing around him, and he was rather curious to what you’ve been hiding

“So, what is it hm? What is it you don’t you want me to see?”

And you were kinda like ?!

You thought you were being sneaky, huh

“Well ah, I’m not hiding anything-“ “Really?” “Nope,” “Then why are you so nervous, hm?” Luka continued to press

He was soo annoying like this, ugh

You sighed, leaving the room for a moment and returning with something behind your back

Luka’s brows raised expectantly

“I wasn’t sure if you’d like it so ah,” you fiddled with the crown nervously. 

Luka could be very condescending and belittle your feelings, and just be a jerk yk

Which was a totally valid reason to be scared to give him a gift you made!

“It’s silly but um, here, I made this for you,” you said handing him the flower crown

Luka’s expression was unreadable, which kinda stressed you out more

Luka placed the crown on his head, “What do you think, hm?” He asked

“It’s rather suiting for the prince, don’t you think?” He mused, his purple fingers tucking a piece of your hair out of your face.

“My star, don’t be shy to spoil me with gifts, I won’t reject you y’know”

You all felt silly and embarrassed :> heh

“..mm right,”

“When did you even have time to make this?” He asked curiously

“Well, my ‘owner’ is less strict then yours,” you scoffed “I’ve been bringing good money n’ popularity with my photoshoots and other gigs . It apparently values ‘self expression’ , heh, so it let me wander a bit.”

Luka hummed in acknowledgement, continuing to play with you hair

“I’ll get you something pretty next time,”

She was like all stressed out because the gang was supposed to have already left the area and you weren’t anywhere to be seen 

She’s looking around everywhere for you, and Aliens and androids are starting to figure out what was happening- a raid

Right before she’s about to go rouge and take the motorcycle

She sees you running towards her 🙏 Which she lets out the deepest sigh out ever

She takes your hands and drags you into the jeep

Dewey slams the gas and everyone speeds off, luckily without anyone being caught

Nooow… as for what happens when you guys get back at base

She so pissed LMAOO

I mean she has every right to be upset, you done fked up dawg 🧍‍♀️

She scolding you for going off the plan and wandering off- especially during a raid!!

“What the hell were you thinkin’ huh?! What if they caught you? You wanna be forced back into that life?! Hyuna yelled, gripping onto your shoulders

You could only try to defend why you did it, but it would only fall to deaf ears

You knew she was right, and what you did was stupid- but you haven’t seen those kinds of flowers in what seemed like forever!

They were like a strange comfort, an odd memory of ‘home’

You also could see how overwhelmed Hyuna was by everything recently, the main plan was getting ready to be in motion

You thought you could give her the flowers, hopefully brightening her mood somehow.

“I really am sorry Hyuna, I just had to get it!” “Get what? Get what hah?” Hyuna pressed

You sighed and pulled out the squished flower crown from your bag

Hyuna’s eyes slightly widened as she watched you

“I found them, the flowers from the garden,” You paused. “‘Made it for you, Hyuna,”

She paused, slowly taking the crown and touching the petals,

He shook her head softly.

“You’re ridiculous you know that,” she scoffs, her lips curling into a soft grin

“Unbelievable, really, no sane person literally risks their life for flowers, babes,”

You smile “Heh, I don’t think anyone here is sane,”

She leaned forward to place a lingering kiss onto your forehead

“I really am sorry yun’,” You whispered

“It’s done now, please don’t do that again though. I can’t do this without you y/n,” She smiled at you

“I don’t think I’ve seen these since we left? I didn’t even know they grew out here!” Hyuna laughed

erm sorry for the cringe .. 🧍‍♀️ also sorry for the shortness of Mizi’s + Sua’s 😭 I had a brainfart w/ them

Made Nov 6th 2024

[lovebugism]

❛ if you die, i'll kill you. ❜“i cant live without you” “don’t die on me, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet” “i lied i never hated you”

eddie x reader enemies to lovers 🥹🥹

pls enjoy this absolute heartache of a fic :D — you and eddie hate each other until he almost dies (angst, enemies to lovers, cw for mentions of gore, 1.1k)

“Wanna make out?” Eddie had asked you, some hours ago now, when you first arrived at the Upside Down version of Skull Rock. You’d just narrowly survived a gang of demobats, and the stale air smelled distinctly of copper pennies. He managed a smug smile anyway. “I mean, we might as well. Looks like we’re gonna die out here, anyway.”

You scoffed and rolled your tired eyes. The annoyance you felt for him then momentarily distracted you from the fear swirling in the pit of your stomach. “I’d rather,” you’d quipped.

You feel a little like you’ve prophesized something now.

Eddie bleeds out in your arms with a hundred little bites on his stomach that were supposed to be yours. He’d distracted the circling demobats when you twisted your ankle, too hurt to run away. And now he’s dying. And it’s all your goddamn fault.

You sit with him while Dustin rushes into the Creel House, in search of help from the older crew. You watch him attentively over your shoulder until he disappears behind the rotted front door. When you turn back to Eddie, you find his eyes have fluttered shut.

“Eddie—” you call for him, clearing your throat when it comes out garbled. “Eddie! Hey!”

“Hm…” he hums tiredly in response, eyes still shut.

You sigh with the subtle relief that he’s not dead. The breath catches in your chest. You try to fight away the panic attack clawing behind your ribcage, even though it makes everything around you seem more and more distant. You try to stay as present as you can despite the horrors swimming all around you — for Eddie The Freak Munson.

“You have to stay awake,” you tell him, voice thick with emotion. “Open your eyes.”

“I’m just… I feel a little tired right now,” he mumbles, slurring slightly. 

Your chest wrenches. He’s getting paler and paler by the minute. The tourniquet you made from the bottom half of your shirt is now soaked with deep red blood. Panic burns a wildfire in your chest because you’ve done everything you could think to do. 

You can’t lose him. That’s all you’re telling yourself now. You can’t lose him, you can’t lose him, you can’t lose him.

“I don’t care. Keep your eyes open, alright?”  Your heart wrenches again, with something short of hope this time, when Eddie’s eyes flutter open. They’re glassy and dilated, but the deep chocolate of them hasn’t changed. You muster a small smile. “There you go, Eds. There you go— Now, just keep talking to me, okay? Keep talking.”

“I’m tired,” he mutters under his breath, too weak to do anything more.

Your face screws together as you choke back a sob. You swallow down every instinct to cry. You’ll cry when this is over, you tell yourself, when Eddie’s safe and back in Hawkins.

“I know, Eddie. I know,” you babble through stinging tears. “But you gotta— you gotta keep talking, alright? It’ll help you stay awake. And I need you to… I need you to stay awake for me, okay?”

He nods. At least, you think he’s nodding, because the movement is terribly faint. 

His eyes fall shut again. You feel the loss of his melted chocolate gaze like a stab in the chest. Your hand grips his jaw, a little less than gentle.

“Eddie,” you bite through gritted teeth.

“Mm…”

“If you die, I swear to god, I will fucking kill you.”

The familiarity of your aggression reminds him of home. He opens his eyes and cracks a small, barely-there smile. Blood glistens on his mouth. “I thought you hated me?” he slurs in an inaudible mumble.

“I do,” you tell him without thinking twice, laughing through the sob in your throat. “But I’ll love the shit outta you if we make it out of here together.”

Together, you say, because either both of you make it out or neither of you do. 

His grin widens softly, chapped and lopsided. “Metal,” he murmurs.

A whimper sounds in your throat when his eyes flutter shut again. “Eddie…”

“‘M sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers, breathing sharply through his nose. 

It’s getting harder and harder for him to breathe. You can tell by the harsh rise and fall of his chest. There’s little oxygen getting to his brain, accompanied by the weeping bites on his stomach— where the fuck is Dustin Henderson?

“I don’t know if I…. If I’m gonna make it outta here, babe…”

Your chest tightens. He only ever called you babe to piss you off. You wonder if he’s still being the annoying asshole you knew back home or if the term of endearment is too engrained in his head.

“Don’t say that.”

“If I don’t—”

“Eddie.”

“If I don’t make it out,” he repeats, sterner this time. He drags a sharp breath in and opens his eyes, just barely. “I want you to know that I never… I never hated you… ‘M just a liar… And a total fucking coward…”

“You can make it up to me when we get back home, okay? You just gotta stay awake.”

His lip quirks into a faint, crooked smile. “I’ve been dyin’ to kiss you since ninth grade… Did you know that?”

“I know,” you nod with an emotional laugh.

“I did make it kinda obvious, didn’t I?”

“You can kiss me when you get better. I swear.”

Eddie nods. You feel him grow heavier and heavier in your arms. His smug smile starts to fade, and you panic. “Eddie? Eddie, don’t— don’t die on me, okay? Please. We haven’t— We haven’t gotten to the good part yet, asshole. You have to stay awake.”

You shift him in your arms, trying to sit him up more when he slumps. He does little to fight you. He doesn’t have the strength to anymore.

“‘M sorry, babe,” you hear him whisper.

“No— No, don’t— Don’t fucking say that,” you scold bitterly, less angry at him and more at the rest of the world. It should’ve been you lying here, after all, not him. You’d trade places in a heartbeat if you could. “You can’t die, you asshole! How am I supposed to— fucking— keep going without you annoying the living shit outta me?”

“Henderson’ll annoy you for the both of us,” he manages to joke as life spills from the weeping wounds on his stomach.

“Fuck that. It’s not the same— I need you, Eddie. I need you, okay? I can’t— I can’t fucking live without you,” you cry over his pale, bloodied body.

You hear yelling and a set of rushed footsteps. “Eddie!” Dustin calls as he dashes down the decrepit porch steps of the old home — with Steve, Nancy, and Robin following close behind.

The sight of them makes you sigh. Your chest starts to sparkle with a hope you’d thought you lost — damn near aching when Eddie’s glassy eyes flutter open once more. 

The fucker grins weakly up at you. “I knew you had a crush on me, babe.”

[moremaybank]

my thoughts are jjs mom passed when he was younger. and he leans on popes mom after. but basically he still has her things. and when he proposes he uses her ring from when she was younger and he always wanted to use it, but when he proposes he freaks out like “i can get you a different one if you hate it. sorry it’s weird”

i'm in love with this idea babe 🥹

jj never talked about his mom. he never really wanted to, and you didn't push. he'd give you tiny little glimpses of who she was from time to time, and you'd seen a picture or two that jj had managed to hide when luke went on a rampage and decided to trash the rest.

other than that, though, he'd never really wanted to bring her up.

that would be impossible after today, though.

jj had hopes of linking his life with yours forever, and with the most sacred piece of jewelry he'd ever owned sitting in the pocket of his cargo shorts, he knew he'd have to let you in all the way.

so when he proposes to you, his heart thumps wildly in his chest as he brings forth the ring. he knows it's not much, but it's always meant everything to him. he hoped it'd mean everything to you too.

of course, his nerves manage to get in the way, and he ends up babbling like a maniac.

"is this weird? it's weird, isn't it? it's alright, y'can tell me 'n i'll get you a different one. i'll even let you pick it out. whatever you want. jus' wanna see you happy, baby—"

you place a finger over his lips, effectively silencing him. "shh. it's perfect."

he grins, sliding it onto your finger when you give him your hand. you bring your hand to your face, inspecting your now very engaged finger.

"i can't believe you love me enough to give me this. i know how much it means to you."

he grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips. he kisses it, before running his thumb over the ring. "i love you more than anything. she woulda loved you too."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Enemies to lovers, period sex and dirty talk with james potter please 🥹

yay a kinktober request! this is why i love these things, i would've never put those together (this request gave me some saltburn vibes ngl but dw i didn't take it that direction)

mdni obviously, fem!reader wc: 3.8k - sorry i got a bit carried away; hope you enjoy!

Bloody Hell

Damn, it was like your period was on a schedule to come when as inconvenient as possible recently. You weren’t supposed to get it for a few days. You groan, clutching your achy back, considering whether this meant you had to change your Halloween costume for tonight. You were going to Sirius’s party as witch. It didn’t involve white trousers or anything ridiculously tight or short, so you felt fine wearing your fancy dress with your now necessary period pants. 

As the day dragged on, pain killers helped the cramps, but definitely not the moodiness. It’d been a while since it made you this grumpy. But, Halloween only came once a year, and you’d been excited for the party, so you try to change your attitude as you’re getting ready later.

The witch’s costume is a bit typical, but you’d loved the colours and liked the classics. Besides, it fit unusually well. Tight and loose in all the right places, the perfect skirt length, and not to mention what it did for your… bosom. You looked hot. The first person you see upon arriving at Sirius’s does not help your mood: James bloody Potter. Looking gorgeous as ever… Wait, what? No. Not gorgeous. Annoying. Yes, that was it. Annoying and smug and irritating and fit. Ugh, okay, whatever. He looked really fit. 

He hadn’t dressed too far from his normal self. Still wearing his typical leather jacket and jeans, but he’d cuffed them differently and had arranged his usually very messy luscious head of hair differently. 

“A witch, Y/L/N? Really?” God, why did his stupid, gruff voice always have such an effect on you?

“Not very creative.” “At least I dressed up, Potter. What are you supposed to be? A twat?” 

“Har-har. So witty. This, for your information, is a 1950’s look.” “Oh, is it? I thought I saw you wearing it last week.” 

He just glares at you. “Alright, alright, you two. Should’ve dressed as vampires; hasn’t even been five minutes, and you’re already at each other’s throats,” Sirius comes interrupting, giving you a quick greeting hug and shoving James a bit along the way. 

“Hi, Siri,” you hug back. “Blame your bestie. He’s the one who doesn’t know how to be nice.” “Oh, because you’re always a ray of sunshine?” James retorts. “Fucking hell,” Sirius sighs, already walking away, busy playing host. He’s already turned his back but you — both of you — clearly hear his exasperated, “Just fuck already, and stop torturing the rest of us.” 

Your wide, mortified eyes snap to James, whose expression mirrors yours. Then he just scoffs and walks away. Typical. 

The party goes on and is actually quite fun. The place is completely covered in Halloween decorations, and some of the costumes are amazing. It’s working wonders on your mood, especially when Remus arrives, but the grumpiness has a way of sneaking its way back into your system whenever Potter approaches. 

You catch him looking over at you frequently, and it gets on your nerves. What does he want? To pick a fight? And why do you care? You try to ignore him as you keep chatting to Remus.

But it becomes impossible when he comes to stand right next to you. “Alright, mate?” He claps Remus on the shoulder, completely ignoring you. 

“I’m standing right here, Potter,” you can’t help but say.

“Yes, I noticed.” “Did you? Because, you see, most people when they notice someone is having a conversation, don’t just interrupt it and ignore them.”

Remus is off with a sighed, “Not this again.” “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot how much you love my attention,” James says smugly, finally turning to you and smirking. You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m desperate for it,” you deadpan. “Though don’t think I haven’t notice you looking at me, Potter. If I did want your attention, I wouldn’t really be left wanting, would I?”

He seems a bit flustered by this, and you love it when you actually manage to get to him, to render him speechless even if for a mere moment. So, without a clear idea of where it will even lead, you pounce on the opportunity that seems to be presenting itself. 

“Am I wrong? Why have you been so interested in what I’m doing tonight then?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, take a step closer. This really throws him.

“Pfft, have not.” He crosses his arms defensively. “Wow. So witty.” You cross your arms, mirroring him. 

This draws his gaze down to your chest, and it lingers there. He seems to catch himself after a few seconds, but it was still a few seconds too many. Interesting. 

God, was there any way Sirius was right? It was bound to happen some time. 

And even if he was… if James was… what? into you? as into you as you were him? was that what you wanted? Actually admitting the feelings sounded much scarier than relentlessly arguing with him forever. 

You’ve gotten lost in your thoughts (and, ugh, feelings), so you don’t notice how long has gone by. Nor do you notice that your demeanour is changing, shifting from teasing and challenging to reflective and slightly worried. 

“What?” James asks, noticing.

“Nothing,” you panic.

“You’re definitely thinking something.” He waves an accusatory finger around your face. “Pfft, am not.” “Wow. So witty,” he repeats, and it’s filled with glee at retaking the upper hand. 

This annoys you to no end, but you still can’t think of anything to say, so you just push past him with a “you’re so annoying.”

You try for a while to enjoy the party, to ignore James Potter — and the many thoughts and feelings about James Potter that won’t stop hounding you. You keep looking over at him, unable to help yourself. 

The seemingly millionth time you do, his eyes catch yours. You want to look away, but something keeps you from doing so. Not wanting to give him the upper hand, again? Not wanting to look away from his beautiful orbs, possibly? 

You just stare at each other from across the room for what feels like the heaviest few seconds of your life. Then his gaze drops, and rather than victory you feel… disappointment. You want him looking at you. Want to look at him back. Your disappointment doesn’t last for too long, though, as you realize he’s walking over to you.

He stops right in front of you, extremely close. He doesn’t say anything. You watch each other intently. “You’re staring at me,” he finally says. “You were staring at me first.” 

Expecting him to deny it, you’re stunned when he responds, “So what if I was?” Then he checks you out shamelessly, his eyes dragging across your whole body, lingering on your chest, exploring your face, before landing back on your own.

That’s it. Stupid, shameless Potter. You do the only thing to do: you take a tiny step forward and smash your lips against his.

He’s kissing you back ardently before you even truly realize what’s happening. His hands grasp you desperately, pulling your body into his; his mouth contorts over yours, devouring you hungrily. He moans deeply enough for you to hear it over the loud sounds of the party. When he gropes your arse, you moan back. But you also realize what the fuck is happening. In the middle of a crowded room. So you pull back from him. 

His mouth chases yours desperately, not wanting to break apart. 

“Wait, James, wait.” He does. And he’s looking at you funny. “Are you alright?” you ask him. “I like how you say my name, sweetheart.” His sincerity surprises you, melts you. So even though you can’t help yourself as you respond, “Whatever, Potter,” it’s much softer than usual, warmth where there’s usually snark. He smirks at you.

“So can we keep kissing now?” “We’re in public, James.” 

You don’t miss his lips quirk at the word. “So?” “So? I’m not a bloody exhibitionist! I have some standards…” “Toilet, then?” “Yeah, toilet,” you nod frantically. 

His hands don’t release your hips the whole way you chase each other to the bathroom. He catches the back of your neck in a couple of quick kisses, and it’s sending tingles down your whole body.

You’re extremely grateful it’s empty when you reach it, rushing in in a frenzy. James slams the door shut and wastes no time in pushing you against it. He picks up where you had left off.

His mouth is hot and delicious against yours, his tongue dancing against yours in its explorations. He enjoys your mouth but soon traces down your jaw and starts sucking on your throat. You shiver at the sensations and pull him to you, your fingers winding into his gorgeous hair. He moans at this and the vibrations directly against your skin make you whimper.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, his lips still tracing your throat. “I love the sounds you make.” 

You hum, and he grazes his teeth across your skin, morphing your voice into a soft yelp. “Yeah, like that,” he chuckles gruffly.

The next time his mouth makes it to the base of your neck, he continues downward. He starts kissing the tops of your tits desperately, bringing his hands up your body to grope them as he does. 

“Fuck, I’ve been going mad all night looking at these. You should wear this every day.” His hands move to your hips pulling you from the door over to the sink. “C’mere,” he says as he lifts you to sit on the small counter.

You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. You play with his hair as he kisses you fervently.

“I’ve always wanted to pull your hair,” you confess, surprising both of you with your honesty. “Oh yeah?” He looks so turned on, you throw any last inhibitions out the window. “Yeah. Fuck, you have nice hair.” You tug harshly on it, and his reacting groan is almost animalistic. His now black eyes stare directly into yours for a charged moment before he dives back into you. 

He kisses wetly down to your throat and chest, and this time when he gets to your breasts, he unceremoniously pulls your dress and bra down. 

“Fuck, you have nice tits,” he echoes and grins. He plays with them, kneading them and tugging on your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before shoving his face between them. He licks across your chest and circles your nipple with his tongue. He switches eagerly between them, puckering them both up before taking one into his greedy mouth and sucking. You let out a loud, strangled whimper at the intense and exquisite sensation, and James hums around your tit. You cradle his head against you.

Rubbing his face against your breasts, he pleads, “That’s it, baby. Keep making those sounds. I love hearing how good you feel. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Jaames,” you whine as he sucks your nipple again. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” Groping them hard one more time, he brings his hands down from your tits, massaging your sides before grabbing your thighs. He squeezes them harshly, jiggling them and running his nails across your skin. 

He’s running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, toward your center, whispering “You wet for me, baby?” when your stomach drops and you remember, panicking. You’d been so caught up in James, you’d entirely forgotten. 

“Fuck!” you yelp, pushing James away suddenly. He stumbles, then takes a steadying step back. He looks completely confused (and unreasonably sexy, all scruffed up from making out with you). “Fucking hell, Y/N. What? You alright?” 

“I — fuck, yeah, I’m fine — I just — fuck.” You cover your face with your hands and squeeze your thighs shut. “Hey,” James says much more softly. “What’s up, love? Y’alright? You’re kind of freaking me out.” “Ugh, ‘m so sorry,” you slur into your hands. He grabs your wrists gently, pulling them away from your face. “It’s alright, whatever it is. Just… can you tell me what’s wrong?” God, how you wish you could vanish in that moment. Or better, not have had your bloody — literally — body betray you like this this morning. Why this fucking time of all times to come early? 

You’re mortified, embarrassed as hell, wishing there was some way out of this without having to explain the truth and put James Potter off, probably for good. After all the time and tension it’d taken to get you here at all. 

“Y/n?”

You take a steadying breath but still can’t get the words out. So you cover your face again, only able to utter them while feeling hidden from him. “‘M on my period,” you confess. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, so you brave moving your hands down and looking up at him. You’re not sure how to read his expression. Then he grins lightly and brings his hands to your cheeks. He tucks your now messy hair behind your ears on both sides before holding your face. 

He’s surprised you several times tonight, but this next one takes the cake. “If you don’t mind, I don’t mind,” he says simply with a shrug and a caress of your cheeks. “What?” You can’t believe it. Every other guy it’d come up with before had treated it like the most disgusting thing. “I don’t mind,” he repeats, chuckling, moving his face closer to yours to look up deeply into your eyes. 

“Are you serious?” “Yeah. I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine, obviously. Like if you’re not feeling well or whatever, but if it’s just about the blood… I can handle a little blood.” “It’s more than a little,” you whisper embarrassedly.

“I didn’t mean it literally,” he laughs. How can he seem so lighthearted? Could he really not mind?

He brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling them slowly apart, giving you time to resist the motion, stepping between them when you don’t. He messages them on either side of his hips. “So?” he asks seductively, clearly eager to continue. “You really don’t mind?" “Really. Fuck, Y/N, I’ve been wanting this so fucking long, I’d be a madman if I waited longer just because you’re on your period.” 

Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you open your legs a bit wider at his words. The dark smirk that usurps James’s expression as you do makes your cunt pulse. God, you want him. Blood be damned. 

Slowly, so slowly it’s driving you insane, he ghosts his hands over your skin the rest of the way up your legs. When they finally reach your underwear, they snake under the waistband and tentatively pull. You lift your hips, and he yanks them the rest of the way off. 

Instinctively, you try to shut your legs. James standing where he is only lets you do it part of the way. Pushing the insides of your knees open again, he says, “No need to hide, gorgeous.” “I — “ But words fail you. So, you simply let him open your legs. 

Sensing your tension, James kisses you again. He starts softly, but you’re both so hungry for each other, so worked up already despite the interruption, that it’s only a few seconds before you’re ravaging each other again, moaning and grasping and pulling each other close. With his mouth still on yours, one hand holding your face, the other comes between your legs, grazing where your thigh meets your cunt.

You shiver, a combination of nerves and pleasure. He breaks your kiss, but rests his forehead on yours, looking straight into your eyes. He lifts his eyebrows in question, and you nod hesitantly. 

He finally brings his fingers to your center, ghosting over it. When you feel the string of your tampon under his fingers, you ashamedly let out an “Oh, god” then “sorry.”

James tssks at you and whispers, “’S alright, sweetheart. It’s fine. Maybe let’s get rid of this, though, cos it’s where I want to be, yeah?” Fuck, how could he keep turning you on even more? You nod and bring your hand between your legs. You pull out the tampon and toss it over into the rubbish bin.

Without further ado, James touches you properly. His fingers slide up and down your wet folds. Your slick and blood mix under his ministrations, but it feels so fucking unreal that you finally start not to care.

You’d always been sensitive during your period. But no one else had ever touched you during it. Nor had it been after ages of sexual tension and lustful fantasies. Every graze of his hand is divine, and when his motions become proper strokes, the full length of his fingers rubbing against you, you squeal as your head falls onto his shoulder. One hand clutches the sink, the other James. “Feel good?” he teases. “Yes,” you sigh desperately.

“How about this then?” he asks as he plunges two fingers into you. You scream. 

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he laughs. “I mean, keep screaming, but maybe not so loud. Don’t want anyone to come knocking when I’m finally this close to fucking you.”

“Fuck.” “Hmm, that’s it. Just relax, love.” His hand thrusts as his fingers curl inside you, and you clench in utter pleasure. “Fuuuck, you’re squeezing me so bloody tight, love. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” You let out some kind of strained affirmative groan and clench again. “Yeah? Want to feel me fill you up?” “Yes, fuck, yes, please.” 

“Who knew you could be this nice, Y/L/N? That all it’d take was my fingers inside you.” “Shut up, Potter.” But there’s no bite to it. “We both know you don’t want me to shut up. I can feel how much you’re enjoying this.” You just bite your lip and whimper when he pushes his thumb against your clit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You can bring the snark back after I make you cum.” 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the thought, and you nod, giving into him. “I know I could do it like this, but I can’t wait any longer to feel you, baby.”

He pulls his hand out of you, and you whine. When you see how entirely covered in blood it is, any further sounds die in your throat at your mortification. 

“I —“ you start, but James just shakes his head and kisses you to shut you up. Not breaking apart from you, he reaches blindly for the hand towel and cleans his hands when he finally finds it. There’s still dark red traces of you on the fingers that then hurry to his trousers, opening them in a rush. He pushes them down and pulls his cock free. Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sight. “James,” you whine. “Yeah, sweetheart?” “Please fuck me.” With a deep groan, one of his hands roughly pulls your head to keep making out with you and the other grabs his cock and lines it up with your center. He pushes in fast. His mouth devours the sounds yours makes in response. 

He starts pounding in and out of you, not bothering to start slow. You’re sure you’d be wet enough regardless, but as things stand, he’s gliding in and out of you. A loud squelching sounds as he thrusts, but before you have time to be embarrassed, James moans, “Fuck, you feel so fucking amazing,” and pounds harder.

He has to bring one hand to the sink just behind you to stabilize himself from how roughly he’s going; his other hand takes a vice-like grip of your hip. His head ends up in the crook of your neck, and he kisses and sucks. Your hand comes to his hair, your other arm clinging around his shoulders clutching him as your whole body reverberates with his movements.

He slows down only enough to lean his head slightly down to where your tits are bouncing. He sucks your nipple and keeps it in his mouth as he keeps fucking into you. At the harsh and unexpected suck, you scream again. He makes no effort to quiet you. 

With his face at your chest, he’s opened a bit of space between your bodies, and he brings a hand to where he keeps disappearing in and out of you. He starts rubbing messily on your clit. 

With that sensation on top of all the others that have your body on fire, you cum violently around him with strangled yell. 

He thrusts through it, but a few clenches of your pussy later, he can’t help but cum too. Your clutching cunt milks him dry. 

He’s panting loudly when he finally stops moving, his hips still, his face resting on your chest. An aftershock ripples through him, and his body gives a quick shake. Then he gives your breast a quick peck before moving to kiss your mouth. It doesn’t last; he’s so out of breath, but he rests his forehead on yours as he recovers. His arms rest on the sink on either side of you, caging you in. You feel warm and safe, and you stroke up and down his strong arms. He smiles and pecks your lips. 

“Not bad, Potter,” you finally break the silence. He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“You cannot possibly act nonchalant after the sounds you just made, Y/L/N. I’m surprised no one burst in here thinking someone was getting murdered.”

You laugh together. It’s concerningly nice.

When you settle down, James looks between you. He pulls out gently. And it’s a fucking mess. 

“I don’t think the words ‘bloody hell’ have ever been so appropriate,” he jokes, staring at it. “Oh god,” you say, covering your face in your hands again. “C’mon, Y/L/N. I thought we were past this bit.” It’s harsh but encouraging as he pulls your hands from your face and quickly kisses your forehead. “C’mon,” he offers as he helps lift you off the counter in a way that lets you hop over the… puddle. 

You both stand there staring at the crimson crime scene of a sink. 

Looking at it but leaning toward you, James asks, “D’you think we could get away with saying it’s Halloween decorations?” 

You burst out laughing again.

“The blood, maybe, but… there’s some of you there too…” 

“Well, at least our first time is certainly memorable. Happy Halloween, Y/L/N.” 

Your heart does something funny at “first time.” So, you ignore it for now and simply say, “Help me clean this up before Sirius actually does murder us in here.”

[lesbojournals]

Could you poly!maraduers x reader with now a baby? Since i believe that you've made some pregnant ones, and i just can't imagine them taking care of a cute little baby🥹🥹 please do when reader is postpartum

Poly!Marauders x Postpartum!Reader

a/n: i hope this is good! i wasn't sure if you wanted reader to have postpartum depression or not, so if you do let me know and i'll write another part !

You groaned at the sound of your baby’s cries. Turning, you nudged whichever boy was next to you at the moment. 

“Whoever’s turn it is, it’s not mine.” You mumbled, attempting greatly to fall back asleep.

“It’s Jamie’s turn.” Sirius let out grumpily.

Remus yelled out. “Jamie!!”

“Huh? What?” James responded, shooting up from his lying position. 

“The baby.” You groaned again.

“Oh. OH!” He jumped up from the edge of the bed, and ran to the baby’s room.

You leaned up on your elbow to see him shushing and cooing the baby on the monitor. He brought the baby close to his chest, and your heart melted seeing the baby calm down at his touch. 

You leaned back down and shut your eyes, feeling Sirius embrace you. 

When you woke up, all of the boys were out of bed and you glanced at the alarm clock. Wow, 11AM. You hadn’t slept that late since before you got pregnant. You rolled out of bed, sliding on your slippers and putting on your robe. 

You entered the kitchen after freshening yourself up, seeing all three (wait, you guess it was four now?) of your boys there.

“And here comes the broomstick!!” You heard Sirius call, and your baby boy looked up at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. 

He ate the food while still staring at Sirius lovingly, and you could see your boys admire him in his highchair from just their kitchen seats. 

“Hi my loves,” You greeted, taking a seat next to Remus, who gave you an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

“Mama!” Your baby laughed when seeing you, and silence struck in the room for seconds before complete chaos erupted.

“What did he say?”

“Mama? Did you say Mama?”

“Say that again, honey!”

Your baby looked around defensively before looking back at Sirius and making grabby hands for the food. Sirius was distracted looking at you though. You had your hands up to your mouth and tears in your eyes. 

Remus rubbed your back comfortingly. “Baby? Are you alright?”

You sniffled, moving your hands from your mouth. “Yes, yes. I’m just…so happy.”

Your baby looked at you and smiled big, making grabby hands towards you. “Mama!!”

You leaped up from your chair, tears flowing down your face, and lifted your baby from his highchair. He giggled as you held him close, swaying back and forth.

“Oh my love, we love you so much.” You whispered to him, continuing to sway. “Your daddies and I love you so so much.”

[synthetickitsune]

may i please request florist!san who secretly likes a regular at his flower shop, then he learns that she finally recently broke up with her ex so he does all kinds of things to cheer her up like slipping in cute notes or chocolates in the flowers she buys and to also maybe shoot his shot 🥹💕

thank youuu and no need to rush! please do take all the time you need 🫶

San (ATZ) | Flower Shop AU + hidden notes fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader

The change wasn’t immediately recognizable for what it truly was. 

You might’ve missed a few weeks, which was concerning, but San understood that life happens and sometimes there’s just not enough time, money, or even energy to come to the flower shop, to keep the house looking pretty. 

And of course he spent the better part of those weeks worried if you’ll ever show up again.

Some little part of him hoped that you won’t - the unselfish one, the one that only cared about your happiness as he tends to care about all strangers that come to his shop. If you never come again, then perhaps your manchild of a boyfriend has finally grown into a full fledged man and started buying you flowers like you deserve instead of leaving you to do it yourself.

It was just one of the few pieces of information he got from the limited amount of small conversations you had. Your boyfriend would give you a couple bucks and tell you to go buy yourself some red roses. An exact amount that would in no universe be covered by the money he gave you. Truly, San wonders why you bothered with that guy. 

You deserve better. You deserve someone like him - but that’s only what the selfish part of his heart keeps telling him.

Things are different now, though. Something changed. You’re back to getting flowers, but they’re not roses anymore, and the bouquets are smaller. They also suit you more. You seem genuinely happy getting them.

San feels torn about it, although he’s mostly curious.

Until one day he sees your phone light up just as you’re about to pay, a name briefly flashing on the screen. You decline the call with lips pressed into a thin line. It’s not the time to be nosy, it’s not his place to ask-

“Is everything alright?” he asks carefully, then upon meeting your eyes he panics, “It’s just you seemed upset and you’ve been missing before…”

He’s just making it worse, he knows, but he hopes you can just take it as him being concerned about his business and not creepy. You study his face for a moment before sighing.

“We broke up,” you say simply, “And he keeps calling so that’s a little annoying.”

“Oh,” is all he can say.

And oh is all he can think for the rest of the day. Week, actually. And then he gets it together.

‘Together’ in a way that is perhaps concerning in its own way.

It might be too much - it is too much and wholly inappropriate. But San feels like a madman on a mission, hyping himself before the final stretch as he looks at the handful of notes and another small pile of envelopes.

The notes should be fine - they’re just generic words of encouragement, some may be a little too sweet for strangers, but not too much. The envelopes, well, they hold his heart. He must be in his right mind still if he thought to start with the notes and see how you accept them.

…And that doesn’t apply anymore weeks later when he’s stealthily slipping the first envelope into the bouquet before wrapping it for you. His heart is about to burst and you’re looking at him with concern. His hands are shaking, but at least you only noticed now. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, brows furrowed.

“Yeah, of course,” he smiles. It’s easy to make it genuine. 

“I…” you hesitate and he leans closer, nodding at you to continue, “I know I never said anything, but I wanted to thank you for the notes. I mean, you probably noticed I started coming in more. They just really helped me get through the hard times.”

He did notice. He also noticed you slowly opening up, lingering, gracing him with short conversation each time.

“I’m glad,” he says and he means it. Even if nothing comes out of this, making you happy is enough.

“So I was wondering, would you like to go on a date with me?” you bite your lip, “If you’re okay with going slow-”

“Yes,” he interrupts before you can change your mind. He already saw you spiral into overthinking many times, he’s not gonna do it today. “Absolutely. Just, uh, could you give that back to me?”

He points to the wrapped flowers in your hands. You look at him with a suspicion. “Why?”

“I don’t want to embarrass myself and make you change your mind, please?” he begs. Suddenly he can’t remember what’s written in the short letter. He only knows it’s sappy and pathetic.

“Is your number there?” you chuckle.

“Among other things,” he admits. For once he doesn’t like the way your smile grows bigger.

“Then if I like the other things I will text you,” you seem so satisfied with yourself, San is in love - and shambles, “If not, I’ll come here again and pretend I didn’t see anything. You can ask me on the date again if the note doesn’t work.”

That’s not the issue, the note isn’t asking you out, he wants to say, but you’re already turned away from him and walking out. He can’t speak, his tongue feels too heavy and his mind is blank. Slowly, he feels a smile stretching his lips against his will.

Maybe you like losers, he hopes.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

May I have a pregnancy announcement with Quinn? 🥹 Can you make her nervous, please??????

One nervous expentant mother coming up!

This couldn’t be happening right now. There was no way what you were seeing was correct. 

For the last month or more you had noticed things that weren’t your normal. You had tried to explain them away as just PMS symptoms, but the nausea was the one thing that was the tell-tale red flag. The mood swings were nothing new, but they hadn’t gone away. Poor Quinn had been walking on eggshells for weeks on end despite having done nothing to warrant your attitude. Everything else just aligned with your cycle paying you a visit, however it never came around. You had been more stressed as of late, and a missed period wasn’t something you experienced often, but enough that you didn’t freak out initially. However, with everything stacking up, you bought a pregnancy test to hopefully clear your mind of any uncertainty. 

Now, you stood alone in the bathroom, braced against the vanity while the timer on your phone ticked down to the last remaining seconds, although the test was very clearly completed. The blue plus-sign was the darkest shade of blue on both of the lines that the test could produce. It was a definite positive. With hands over your mouth in glaring realization, you stood there staring at it, trembling. Quinn was just beyond the bathroom door, unaware of the news you now had to give him. 

How would he take it?

You weren’t married; you weren’t even engaged, yet here you were, feeling mocked by the pregnancy test sitting there on the counter. You couldn’t hide the fact now and this was no false-positive. You had to tell him. Your fingers were still shaking when you reached for it, nearly dropping it once it was between your fingers. “Shit~” You spat, just under your breath. You needed to get yourself in order or this was going to be so much harder. By this point, you had no idea how long had you been locked in the bathroom; how long did the test take again?

You tiptoed from the bathroom, hoping you’d find him not in the middle of something so you could get it over with as soon as possible, still unsure what his reaction was going to be. He was in the living room, feet up on the ottoman, streaming a Thursday Night Football game. He hadn’t noticed you approach until you squeaked out his name. 

“Quinn?”

The first time you said it, he hadn’t heard you. The second time, however, it was more shaky and a touch louder, “Quinn?”

The change in your tone was what pulled his attention away from the broadcast. The look on your face had pulled him to his feet. 

"What’s wrong, baby?” His face was drenched in concern and immediate dread. He knew you better than anyone and even he hadn’t seen you like this before. “You look really pale. Why don’t you sit down?”

The test wand was tucked in the palm of your hand and braced against your wrist. When Quinn asked you to sit on the sofa, you did so, but crossed your arms over  your stomach, further helping you conceal the test until you were ready to finally break the news. He was looking at you with such worry. For some reason you thought he would be eyeing you with suspicion, but your rational brain knew Quinn wasn’t that way. 

He’d sit right next to you, both of you turned towards the other slightly. Your eyes were down, staring at your knees before his hands touched you gently. His soft affection made you jump even though you saw it coming. It was like you were split between two different places. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, never dreaming you would have jumped at his touch. 

Your heart was beating so quickly, you couldn’t tell if you had said your reply loud enough because all you could hear was the thumping in your ears. “No.”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Still, your eyes were down, unable to look at his worried face. Quinn would actually bend down hoping to catch your gaze. When your eyes met, you began to cry. It was just too hard to keep the amped up emotions inside any longer. 

“Oh, baby! Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” He reached forward, pulling hair behind you ear; his warm touch grazing your ear. “I’m really worried about you.”

“Quinn, I’m~,” you mumbled, your eyes flipping between both of his for something to focus on. “I’m...”

“Hmm?” Quinn’s tone was sympathetic, soft, and unhurried. He had his emotions reined in while you were running a thousand miles an hour. 

“I’m...pregnant.” Immediately, you broke down, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you sobbed.

To say Quinn was shocked would have been an understatement. He wanted to smile, to be excited, but seeing you react like you were stopped his celebration. He’d hold your face with both of his hands and kiss you so passionately. 

“Don’t cry, sweetheart! This is incredible!” 

You’d sniffle once he parted from your lips. Reaching up to wipe your eyes, you forgot the test was in your hand, and it would drop from your lap to the floor. Quinn would beat you to picking it up and when his eyes saw the positive indicator he grinned. “Oh baby, I love you! Please, don’t cry! I’m so happy!”

Words were still hard for you; you were still sobbing, though you didn’t know why other than your hormones were running without restraint. Instead, you reached for him, and he took you in his arms immediately. 

"Baby, baby, baby! It’s okay!” He hushed, one hand on your back, the other smoothing your hair. “Happy tears, okay?”

This made you cry more, buried into his neck as your fingers clawed into his back. 

“Shhh, you’re okay. Everything is fine, sweetheart. I want you to be happy...” his voice dropped off, his non-hormonal stressed brain making a very irrational thought appear. “Do you not want to have the baby?”

You pushed back from him, eyes wide and in shock as you searched his face. “Of course I do! I’m just... I don’t know how to feel right now I’m so confused! I’m so sorry!” 

He gave you a smile, “You have a lot going on, babe! It’s okay to be all over the place!” Quinn’s fingers tightened ever so slightly. “I love you so much!”

"I love you, too!” You continued to weep, just wanting to smile and share in his happiness. “You’re not upset?”

“Upset? Absolutely not! Why would I be?”

“Because we weren’t even...we hadn’t talked about this.”

“Everything for a reason, baby,” he smiled wider. “I can’t wait to let mom know. She’s going to go crazy!”

Your face went completely white. Both of your families had to be told, how had you forgotten? You struggled to tell Quinn, how were you going to handle telling two separate families of this news? 

“We’ll tell them together, okay?” He added, seeing the immediate change in your expression. “We’ve plenty of time. Right now, all I care about is you and how you’re doing. I know the last month hasn’t been easy, and this explains a lot.”

“I’m so sorry I’ve been so mean to you, Quinn!”

“No, no, don’t cry! I’m alright, so just let that go.” He smiled again. “You’re okay.”

Falling against his chest again, you’d put your chin on his shoulder and whimper. Everything was hitting you at once and all you wanted was a break from feeling like an emotional nutcase. Quinn, on the other hand had taken to rocking you gently.

"Everything it okay, baby. I promise you. I couldn’t be more happy right now! To have a little family with you, I can’t lie, I’ve had daydreams about it. Now, it’s going to happen and I’m so happy!”

"Promise?”

“I promise. I’ll make sure you have everything you need, okay? I’ll go with you to as many appointments as I can and I’ll take care of you every step of the way.”

“Quinny,” you finally smiled. “You’re so sweet.”

“Anything for you and our little baby.”

[locomoqo]

I'm going to pass out I swear if you make a daddy's girl one with Sam and Taesoo.

Idk I feel like they're a girl dad vibe? Love your work please keep it up🥹

a tiny light

ft. Samuel Seo, Taesoo Ma, & Kwak Jichang

details: pure fluff, just them being girl dads

A/N: rawr i added in bbg jichang bc i miss him and why not

ᯓ★—SAMUEL

Samuel’s day was going smoothly—well, as smoothly as life goes with a baby. He had his little girl in one arm, her tiny fingers wrapped around his shirt, and sleep still tugging at his consciousness as he poured himself a much-needed cup of coffee. He wasn’t watching his movement, his mind drifting in the fog of early morning, and as he put the carafe back, his hand jerked slightly, spilling coffee over the edge of the cup. Hot liquid pooled on the countertop, nearly spilling onto his hand.

“Ah, shi—” he muttered, catching himself mid-word, his eyes darting to his daughter immediately. She looked up at him, her big eyes widening with an innocent curiosity that felt all too judgmental.

He cringed, his mind racing to backtrack. “Shoot—I mean, shoot,” he corrected himself. But his daughter kept staring, her tiny brow furrowing as though trying to process whatever strange new sound he had just made.

“Uh-oh,” he said instead, adopting a lighter tone, hoping to distract her. “Daddy made a mess, didn’t he?” His daughter’s lips curved in a small, toothless grin, and she made a babbling sound, as if trying to mimic him.

“Oh, great,” he groaned under his breath. “Next thing I know, you’ll be saying ‘uh-oh’ every time I spill something.” She let out a little squeal, her small hands flapping with excitement, and he couldn’t help but chuckle again, his frustration melting away as he gently bounced her in his arm.

“Alright, alright,” he murmured, grabbing a paper towel and dabbing at the coffee mess with one hand while holding her securely with the other. “Daddy’s a klutz today, huh?” he whispered to her, brushing a light kiss on her forehead.

She giggled, her tiny hand reaching up to pat his cheek in a way that melted his heart, her curiosity as pure as ever. He took a deep breath, looking at her with a newfound sense of purpose. “Guess daddy’s gotta watch his language.”

ᯓ★—TAESOO

Taesoo had the bright idea of going camping, you had some doubts about it considering all the wild animals that ran around the mountain he owned but he assured you that you would be fine. So you decided to agree to the idea, even your daughter was excited at the mention of going camping and staying under the stars—or maybe she only became excited because her father talked to her about the trip in a positive tone while raising her up in his arms.

“You sure you two’ll be fine out here?”

“Yes, you go on ahead we’ll follow.” 

You stare at him for a moment before slowly nodding and pressing a kiss to his cheek and on top of your daughter’s head, deciding to head into the tent first.

Taesoo sat on a log near the crackling fire, the cool mountain air brushing against him as he gazed out over the darkened forest. His little girl was nestled in his lap, bundled tightly in a thick blanket, her small face peeking out with heavy-lidded eyes as she fought to stay awake. Her tiny fingers clung to the edge of his jacket, as if she knew she was in the safest place she could be.

"Getting tired already?" he murmured, his rough hand smoothing over her soft curls as they peeked out from the blanket. She gave a little babble, her eyes struggling to stay open, and Taesoo chuckled quietly, watching her surrender to the peace around them.

“Peaceful out here, isn’t it?” he said, voice soft but firm. His gaze traveled over the quiet landscape, the place that had always been his sanctuary. But now, with her here, it was different—deeper somehow, like the mountain itself was more alive with her small presence.

"Out here, there’s nothing to worry about," he said quietly, looking down at her as her little fingers loosened their grip on his jacket. "No noise, no trouble... just you and me." She yawned, her eyes closing slowly as if his words had wrapped around her like the warmth of the fire.

For a moment, he just watched her sleep, feeling a rare, unguarded softness settle over him. He pulled the blanket closer around her, keeping her shielded from the cold, and he murmured quietly, “You’re safe here. I’ll keep you safe.” His words were strong, carrying a promise as steady as the mountains themselves.

With his daughter fast asleep, Taesoo leaned back, letting the silence of the wilderness surround them both, his protective gaze never leaving her small, peaceful face.

ᯓ★—JICHANG

Jichang sat comfortably in his armchair, his months-old daughter nestled in his lap, her tiny hands gripping his fingers with a surprisingly firm grasp. In his other hand, he held a small storybook, one he hadn’t expected he’d ever be reading aloud to someone. But as he looked down at his baby girl’s wide eyes, her curious gaze fixed on him with a sparkle of pure fascination, he felt an unmistakable warmth fill his chest.

“All right, honey,” he began in a voice softer than anyone had likely ever heard from him, “let’s see what happens next.” He turned the page with care, his thumb brushing over the corner so as not to lose her focus.

As he read the next few lines, he watched her tiny mouth open and close, babbling nonsense syllables in perfect synchronization with his words. Her face scrunched with enthusiasm every time he spoke, as though she completely understood the story unfolding and wanted to contribute her thoughts.

“A brave knight sets off to save the day…” he read, giving a tiny smile as he glanced down at her. She cooed in response, her little fists waving in the air, clearly very invested in this journey the knight was taking.

She kicked her legs as if she were encouraging the knight herself. “Maybe one day you’ll be as brave as him,” he whispered to her, feeling an odd twinge of pride, even though she probably wouldn’t remember this moment. 

He continued reading, his voice deep and steady, and with every new twist in the story, she let out another excited coo, her little noises growing louder as she listened. When the knight faced the “ferocious dragon” she let out an emphatic babble, her tiny voice full of what he could only interpret as courage and determination.

Jichang chuckled, shifting her slightly to make sure she was comfortable. “A fierce one, aren’t you? Maybe you’ll be the one saving people someday.” He watched as she reached her little hand toward the book as if to turn the page herself, and his heart softened at the sight.

“Just wait until you’re old enough to read this on your own,” he whispered, brushing his thumb gently over her small, chubby hand. “We’ll go on so many adventures together, you and me.”

She responded with a squeal, her wide eyes seeming to absorb every word, and he couldn’t help but grin. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t quite understand. This was their time, their little world, and he would savor every second.

[bbyleiah]

ALL YOURS

| Part 3 to smoke-you-out & breakfast. Connie catches the reader and eren in the act, things unfold and then eren and the reader are left to decide to continue things or consider it a mistake and move on.. |

cw: black fem shy sub!reader, dom!eren, cheating, degrading, slut shaming, smoking, smut, lots of kissing, oral sex (m! receiving), unprotected sex, missionary position, prone bone position, fingering, praise, lots of pet names, breath play, choking, fluids, masochism, scratching, crying, whining, lots of dirty talk, creampie, spit, pwp, etc.

word count : longer than I expected 😭

sn : I know this is LONG overdue my loves and I apologize 🥹 I hope it’ll be worth the wait though and that I live up to y’all’s expectations with this part <3 I tried my best to finish it off strong ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Yo ren, open up! it’s me, con!” Connie called out as he knocked on the door, the sounds of his fisted hand pounding against the hard surface enveloping your eardrums and coinciding with the current pounding of your heart. You felt like your whole world was crashing down as your mind and body just short circuited to a pause; lost on what to do about the detrimental situation at hand.

Eren’s eyes widened just slightly when he heard Connie’s voice outside his door, now understanding your current panicked state. “H-He’s gonna kill me..” you muttered shakily. “I lied to him ‘ren! oh my god! He’s gonna find out how terrible I am!” You rambled as tears began to flow down your cheeks; your hands trembling and your nerves growing worse the more the knocking continued.

“shh, shh. calm down sweetheart. It’s okay. It’s all my fault, alright?. don’t you dare beat yourself up about this.” Eren comforted you as he held you close and wiped your tears. “Do you want to let him find out now? or do you want to prolong the inevitable?” He asked you softly and seriously as he looked into your eyes. You didn’t know how to answer him. You knew it was best to just rip the band-aid off and let Connie find out now.

But, you were so terrified of his reaction that you didn’t want to face the reality of the situation. Suddenly everything you did with Eren didn’t seem worth it at all. Even if it did feel really great while it lasted. “L-Let’s just get it over with..it’s for the best.” You sniffed as you tried to breathe and mentally prepare yourself somewhat for this confrontation. “I’m gonna be right there with you the whole time, okay?. Just follow my lead. I won’t let him hurt you, ever.” Eren reassured as he gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs.

You appreciated his comfort and reassurance because you definitely needed it at the moment and it was helping you calm down. Eren leaned in to kiss you but you turned your head away. “Not right now..please.” You muttered as you looked down at his shiny wooden floors. He sighed, “no problem.” He uttered as he pulled away. He was disappointed but he understood why you pulled away.

He then went to go open the door and welcome in the dreaded guest. “What the fuck took you so long ‘ren? had me out there knocking for damn near thirty minutes.” Connie immediately complained — irritated. Him already being in a bad mood was the cherry on top of a fucked up pie. “My bad. Had to take care of something.” You heard Eren respond. You were still hidden in Eren’s bedroom, eavesdropping by the door.

“Got your dick wet last night or somethin?” Connie questioned him. “Something like that.” Eren muttered. “Lucky you. I couldn’t find my bitch anywhere after she scurried off with you. Honestly she gives me a damn headache sometimes.” Connie expressed with a sigh. Eren’s jaw ticked in annoyance at the way Connie spoke about you. It wasn’t out of the normal for him to speak of you so degradingly and it always bothered Eren, but today it particularly struck a nerve.

Meanwhile, you were in disbelief at Connie’s choice of words. A sob catching in your throat as you felt your heart breaking in half. You always knew Connie didn’t care for you as much as you believed a boyfriend should, but this was beyond a lack of care. It was just complete disrespect. “Actually, I was meaning to tell you something about ‘your girl’” Eren announced with an edge creeping into his tone.

You had a bad feeling about this conversation now. “Oh? What is it?” Connie inquired as he perked up. “I fucked her last night. I fucked her twice actually. Made her feel real good so she’d stop crying over your dumbass.” the silence after Eren’s admission was deafening. You felt like you were holding your breath as you awaited Connie’s reaction.

“You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” Connie replied, deadpanned as he looked into Eren’s eyes. “Nah. I don’t need to lie about who I fucked.” Eren shrugged. You suddenly grew the courage to reveal yourself. You felt that Connie needed to see the actual physical proof. “Con’…I’m so sorry…” you told him genuinely as tears filled your eyes again. He stared at you in disbelief; taking in your disheveled state with Eren’s marks all over you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I knew that whole innocent act was bullshit. Just a fucking whore like the rest of them.” He snapped at you in disgust. “I knew she was a whore, but you’re supposed to be like my brother? you really fucked me over for some pussy?” He turned to Eren. “She ain’t even all that.” He scoffed as he shook his head; still trying to process the newfound situation in front of him.

“And you fucking lied to me. Stupid bitch. I should’ve known that ‘family emergency’ shit was fake.” He turned back to you; his words harsh as he grew angrier with the situation. “Watch your fucking mouth when talking to her.” Eren defended you. You appreciated it, but also you couldn’t help but to let Connie’s words get to you. Feeling like everything he was saying about you was true. “Oh so now you’re her savior or somethin’?. You got a little piece of pussy and now you think you own her or somethin’?” Connie let out a bitter laugh.

“I still fucked her plenty of times before you did. All you did was get my sloppy seconds. So don’t act all high and mighty over some used up pussy.” the more he spoke the more uncomfortable you felt. You felt disgusted with yourself at how he described you like you were some kind of object. “Honestly, you can have her. I been tryin’ to get rid of her anyways.” He continued as he roughly grabbed your arm and shoved you towards Eren. Eren caught you before you could fall, asking you if you were okay.

You sniffled and nodded in response. “She isn’t a whore and you know that. You never deserved her and so I rightfully took what should’ve been mine in the first place. I don’t give a shit about the whole being your ‘brother’ thing either. You’ve always been an asshole and I’m sick of listening to you act like a little bitch.” Eren’s words were a shock to you and clearly they also caught Connie off guard as well.

“a little bitch? oh you got me fucked up-“ Connie started but Eren cut him off. “Nah, shut the fuck up. I’m talking now.” He was angry now and you suddenly felt very out of place in between these two men who seemed seconds away from fist fighting. “You always bitch about the same shit. You’re like a damn child. I’ve been tired of your ass. You only care about yourself and treat everyone like shit.”

“You’re a sad excuse for a man. Honestly taking your girl was easy. Should’ve fucked her sooner. Showed her what a real man feels like” Eren was taunting him now and it was working. You were quick to move out of the way when Connie came charging towards him to punch him in the face. You cringed at the sound of the impact. This whole situation seemed way above you now, and out of your hands as you watched in shock as the two of them fought.

You didn’t want them hurting each other, but part of you was satisfied to see that Eren was winning the fight even though it was a close match up. You gasped once seeing blood and that’s when you jumped in to stop the fight. “Stop!” You shouted. “‘rennie stop!” You grabbed Eren’s arm before he could throw another punch. Connie stared at you in disbelief. “‘rennie’? what the fuck?. since when-..you know what I’m done with this shit. Fuck both of y’all.” He grumbled as he wiped his bloody nose with his hand.

He stormed out of Eren’s penthouse and you jumped slightly at the sound of the front door slamming behind him. “Are you okay?” Eren asked you softly as he turned his attention on you. “Yeah..I’m alright. Are you okay?” You returned the question, frowning as you observed his busted lip and slightly bruised up face. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. That’s not the first time me and Connie have fought.” He said honestly. “Plus I like pain, remember?” He attempted to lighten the mood, winking at you.

It did bring a small smile to your face, but you still felt terrible about everything that happened. “I should probably go too..” you uttered softly as you looked away from him. He was the one frowning now. “Why?. You can stay here. I don’t mind. I can take care of you.” He hummed as he gently grabbed your face to bring your eyes back to his. You chewed on your bottom lip, “I know but..I think it’s best if we had some space. I need time to figure all of this out.” You told him honestly. You were nervous as you waited for his response.

“Oh..that’s fine. I understand. You’ll contact me if you need me though, right?” He didn’t want the two of you to be apart, but he knew that this was all sudden for you and that you were technically going through a breakup. He was going to give you all the space you needed and hope that you’d come back to him eventually. You nodded, “I’ll stay in touch.” You reassured him prior to pulling away to gather your things.

Eren silently watched you as you prepared to leave. He wanted to ask you if you’d at least let him kiss you again before you left, but he figured it was best to just leave it be. “Thank you for everything.” You told him softly and gave him a small quick hug. You didn’t look up at him once; afraid to see that disappointed look in his eyes. You left without turning back.

The ‘space’ you asked for ended up lasting over a month. You didn’t keep much contact with Eren either. You felt bad because he’d always send a text to check up on you every week but you barely responded to him. You just wanted time to focus on yourself for a while and not a man. Connie was enough to deal with, and you didn’t know if you were ready to hop into another situation with another guy. Even if Eren was really sweet.

During your time to yourself, you couldn’t help but to do a little stalking on Connie. It didn’t surprise you to see that he quickly moved on in less than a week with another girl. It hurt to see further confirmation of how little you meant to him though. You didn’t dwell too much on your breakup with him though. It honestly felt like a weight lifted off of you. You realized that you fell out of love with him long before the situation with Eren.

You missed Eren but you tried not to think about him. Unable to escape the guilt still eating away at you. You also didn’t want Eren to feel as if he was just a rebound for you. If things ever did get serious with him, you wanted it to be done properly. You didn’t think you’d see him again anytime soon, but apparently fate had other plans.

You rushed to clock in to your part time shift at the diner you currently worked at. “Oh thank god!. I was wondering when you were going to get here. There’s a few stragglers left but closing shouldn’t be too hard for you.” Your coworker said to you as she clocked out so you could take her place. You two bid goodnight to each other and you tied on your apron and got to work.

You hadn’t paid much attention to the customers so you were unaware of who had spotted you. “Yo, ain’t that Connie’s girl?” a voice questioned from one of the tables near the back. Eren was high currently but he perked up at that; focusing his eyes through the haze and looking around to find you cleaning tables. “Fuck up, Ony. Her and Connie broke up.” Eren grumbled, his attention solely focused on you now.

He felt like he was almost imagining you since he hadn’t seen you in so long. “Little one!” He called out. You felt your heart stutter hearing that nickname and that voice that only belonged to one person. The man who hasn’t left your mind since the day you walked out of his place. You turned to see him already staring at you. “It really is you..” Eren muttered to himself. “Why haven’t you called or texted me back?” He was talking so loudly that the other customers were starting to stare.

You scurried over to his table to hush him. “Shh, quiet down. You’re causing a scene..” you told him; embarrassed as you blushed. You then noticed he was sitting with someone you’d never met before. “What’s good, I’m Ony.” He greeted you with a head nod and a smile. “Nice to meet you ony.” You replied politely. You then focused your attention back on Eren when he grabbed your hand. “You didn’t answer me. Why did you go ghost on me?. You told me that we’d stay in contact with each other.”

“I..I didn’t mean to. Just had a lot on my mind still..” you knew it was a sad excuse, but you didn’t know how to answer him. “You could’ve told me that instead of just ignoring me.” He had a point. You could’ve just told him that but you felt it was best to stop contacting him. You figured he’d eventually forget about you. Apparently you were wrong. “I know I could’ve..but you know…the situation just got out of hand..” you muttered and chewed on your lip as you tried to find the right words.

He sighed and pulled you into his lap, making your eyes widen in shock. “I missed you though. A lot.” He murmured as he held you close, burying his face in your neck. “‘ren..I’m supposed be working right now..” you tried to remind him. You even tried to glance at his friend Ony in search of help to get Eren off you, but he only smirked and sat quietly — watching things unfold between you two.

“I know but just let me have this moment.” He hummed as he held you tighter. You sighed but you honestly didn’t have much complaints. It felt nice to be in Eren’s arms again. You couldn’t resist the natural urge to wrap your arms around his neck and gently play with his hair. He pulled back slightly to look at you, “Did you miss me too?” He asked you with a small pout. It was then that you noticed how faded he was — with his low very red eyes staring up at you.

“‘ren you’re high..you don’t know what you’re talking about..” you tried to avoid the question. “I do know what I’m saying. I’m still thinking straight.” He clarified. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” He repeated softly as his nose brushed against yours. Both of your breaths mingling together due to how close his face was to yours. Your breathing was starting to turn shallow now, getting lost in moment with Eren.

“You’re giving me that look.” He pointed out with a smug grin. “You know what that look does to me..” he muttered as he brushed his lips against yours and adjusted his hands to grip your thighs. You moved to go in for the kiss but he pulled away completely, chuckling once seeing the frown on your face. “Tell me you missed me and then I’ll give you a kiss.” the ultimatum caught you off guard.

“That’s not fair!” You huffed as you grew shy and embarrassed again. “Seems fair to me.” He shrugged with a small laugh. “You know you missed me. You just have to say it sweetheart. Be good and use your words for me, hm?” He always knew exactly what to say and how to say it to turn your brain into mush. “Fine..I missed you too..” you admitted without much of a fight as you looked away from him in embarrassment. “Good girl.” He grinned.

He then leaned back in to kiss you. You really felt how much you missed him now. You instantly relaxed and let out a contented sigh against his lips as the two of you kissed. The kiss started off slow and sweet but it gradually grew more intense and messy. Eren pushed his tongue into your mouth; his hands moving to grip your ass as he kissed you deeply. His tongue tangled messily with yours as the sound of spit swapping grew more apparent in the small booth.

A throat clearing and a hand slamming down hard against the table made you jump away from Eren — breaking the kiss. “Ight bro, if you’re gonna fuck her please don’t do it in front of me.” Ony commented bluntly and you gasped and instantly climbed off of Eren. You were completely embarrassed now. “Sorry! We were not going to do..that..by the way..” you awkwardly rambled to Ony, trying to ease the situation but only making it worse.

Eren was highly amused; cackling behind his palm as he watched you animatedly and shyly try to explain the obvious situation to Ony. “Stop laughing!” You whined as you swatted Eren on his buff arm multiple times. It was honestly an adorable sight from Ony’s perspective. “You two are cute. Must be nice.” He complimented and your eyes widened. “Mhm, it is. This is my girl.” Eren replied smoothly with a toothy grin as he wrapped an arm around your waist possessively.

You were just at a loss for words now. These two were going to send you into a heart attack. “I-I need to get back to work..” you reminded, using it as your escape from Eren and his intimidating friend. “I’ll wait for you until your shift is over.” Eren stated as he let you go. “Oh you don’t have to-“ “I’m not leaving here without you. So yes, I am going to wait until your shift is over and we’re going to go home together. Okay?”

The tone of voice he used and the way he stared at you left no room for objections. “Okay..” you settled. “Good girl. Now go get back to work.” He shooed you off gently. There wasn’t many customers during the night shift so you mostly lingered around rather than doing much other than cleaning up and preparing for those who worked the morning shift. You kept an eye on Eren, unable to stop yourself from watching him.

He caught your stare sometimes, making you instantly look away due to being flustered. You noticed when his friend Ony eventually left. You gave him a polite wave and put on your customer service voice to tell him to have a ‘great rest of his night’. Not long after that, the only people who were left in the diner were you and Eren. “You want me to help you close up, little one?” He asked you as he got up from his booth to walk over to you.

“no no, I’ve got it. I’m fine.” You assured as you gathered your things and grabbed the keys to the diner. You locked the door behind you and Eren after the two of you left. He then grabbed your hand and led you to his car, opening the door for you like a gentleman. You had something on your mind that you really wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how to say it. You nervously fidgeted with your hands and glanced at him as you debated speaking up.

Eren was focused on driving but he could sense your energy was off. He looked over at you and placed his hand on your thigh, “What is it baby?” He asked with a small hum as he gently caressed your thigh with his thumb. You opened your mouth and then closed it, still hesitant. He raised a brow at you, “Talk sweetheart. You don’t ever have to be scared to speak your mind to me. I’ll always listen.” He reassured you.

You appreciated the reassurance a lot, letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in. “Did you really mean what you said earlier..? about me being your girl?..” you finally asked what’s been weighing on your mind since you walked away from his table. “Of course I meant it. I’ve meant it since that night.” He answered with zero hesitation. “Did you really think I would just say that without meaning it?”

“I mean..you haven’t officially asked me so I didn’t know..” you muttered as you looked away and out of the window since you were starting to feel self-conscious. It’s not like you wanted Eren to ask you out, but you also wanted him to be more direct to avoid confusion. Eren bit down on his tongue to hold back the small laugh that threatened to creep up. You were just too precious. “Did you want me to ask you?”

You didn’t know how to answer him. You didn’t want to let him go this time around but you were hesitant. Even though it was so clear and obvious that Eren wanted you and wanted to be with you. That fear of rejection and those small doubts took over your brain. “Come back to me baby. Stop thinking.” He interrupted your thoughts with a gentle squeeze to your thigh. You instantly focused your attention back on him.

He really did have a way of silencing your racing mind — Filling it with only thoughts of him. He was staring back at you. His attention also solely on you now that the two of you were stopped at a red light. “Do you want to be with me? yes or no?.” He asked you directly. “Don’t feel pressured to say anything other than what your heart is telling you.” He added for more reassurance. You tried not to overthink it this time. Following your heart as Eren told you.

“I do want to be with you.” You answered him genuinely. Being with Eren felt right and even though you were unsure about how things would turn out; you still wanted to give it a shot. Eren instantly grinned and leaned in to peck your cheeks and your lips. “I want to be with you too. I know this isn’t the most romantic way to ask you out but I’ll make up for it. I promise.” He smiled. You smiled back at him, “this is enough for me for now.” You reassured him honestly as you moved to hold his hand.

The two of you ended up at Eren’s house. Being back in his place gave you a weird sense of Deja vu mixed with nostalgia. It felt like it’d been so long since you were in his space even though it had only been a month or so. “You can make yourself comfy.” He told you with a small hum as he walked to his bedroom with you tailing behind him. “Uhm..is it okay if I use your shower?” You asked him. Even though he said you could get comfortable; you still felt it’d be rude not to ask.

He nodded, “of course baby. what’s mine is yours.” He said and you smiled before skipping off into his bathroom. He had a really nice bathroom so you gawked at it for a few minutes prior to actually undressing and getting into the hot shower. You always wondered what Eren did for work to have such a nice place but you didn’t know if you should ask. You had a feeling it was better left unknown.

After your long relaxing shower, you walked out to find eren sitting up in his bed in just his black boxer briefs. He was lighting up a blunt when he spotted you. “Didn’t you already smoke earlier?” You questioned him as you walked over to his closet. “Mhm, but I have a high tolerance baby. It’s only my third one today.” He explained but you didn’t know if that made it any better. Then again you didn’t know much about smoking weed.

You could feel Eren’s eyes boring into you as you dried off and moisturized your body. You avoided looking back at him though due to feeling shy. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, you know that?” based on that sentence you knew where this was going. Once Eren got started, he didn’t stop. “I do. It’s hard not to know with you constantly reminding me.” You giggled. “I can’t help it, I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of looking at you. I’ve always loved that pretty face of yours. I can’t believe you’re mine now.”

You felt your heart swoon at his words and the contented sigh he let out. He seemed so genuinely happy to be with you and that made you feel so adored and seen. “c’mere princess.” He called you over. You put on one of his t-shirts before walking over to him. He instantly pulled you up onto his lap. “Had to get a closer look at my pretty girl.” He flattered you and you were blushing — though luckily it wasn’t noticeable due to your dark complexion. “You’re my pretty girl, right? All for me?”

You bit back a smile and nodded, “yes, I’m all yours.” You indulged him. He seemed satisfied with your answer based on the pleased grin on his face. “That’s right. You and me were always meant to be together.” He murmured as he stared at you adoringly and cupped your face with his large hand. You perked up at that, “You really believe that?” You questioned with a doe eyed stare. He nodded, “I do. You’re everything I ever wanted and more.”

You didn’t think you could possibly fall for this man even more, but he was proving you wrong. Everything he said had butterflies fluttering in your tummy and your eyes turning heart shaped for him. “I feel the same way.” You reciprocated with a giddy smile. He chuckled at the delighted look on your face, “You’re so damn cute.” he uttered with a small head shake as he grinned. He then took another hit from his blunt and grabbed you by your neck.

You let out a short gasp at the sudden movement and only had a few seconds to register what was happening as eren blew smoke into your parted lips. He was staring intensely into your eyes as the white cloud of smoke swirled between the two of you. You held the eye contact as you breathed in the second hand smoke. “mm.” was all eren hummed as his eyes drifted down to your pretty plump two toned lips. “You’re always so good for me.”

He praised you and you reveled in it. You hadn’t even done anything much but eren seemed very satisfied. He repeated the action of blowing smoke into your mouth. You were prepared for it this time and sucked up the ashy white smoke to blow it back to him but as you were about to; eren kissed you. He kissed you hard, like he had been waiting his whole life to do so. You let out a small “mmph!” into the kiss since it caught you off guard.

You breathed out the residual smoke through your nose as you began to kiss eren back. You parted your mouth for him to slide his tongue into it. You moaned softly into the kiss as his tongue explored your wet mouth; his tongue swirling with yours and pushing against the inner flesh of your chub cheeks. He squeezed at your throat once you began to grind your needy cunt onto his clothed cock that was hardening underneath you.

Your hands moved to pull his cock out with more eagerness than you initially intended. “mm, so impatient sweetheart.” He teased you as he pulled away and broke the kiss. “m’sorry I just..I wanted to..” your words trailed off as you grew sheepish and embarrassed. You had a hand wrapped around Eren’s cock, stroking it slowly in your soft palm. “You don’t have to apologize baby. ‘s all yours.”

Those words gave you a small boost of encouragement. You then moved to position yourself between Eren’s legs, catching him off guard. “oh.” he muttered as he realized what you were trying to do. You tried not to focus on his attention on you since it made you nervous. You spat on his cock and gradually increased the speed of your hand. The mixture of your saliva and his precum slicking up his cock and your hand as you stroked him off.

The soft grunts and moans eren let out only fueled you and made you more confident in your actions. You took the tip of his cock into your mouth, suckling on it softly while pushing your tongue into his slit. “oh fuck.” he moaned out breathlessly as his hand moved to the back of your head. You took more of him into your mouth until you couldn’t fit anymore, gagging on his thick cock.

“shit princess..jus’ like that” he groaned as he assisted you in bopping your head up and down. You whined around his cock as you sucked him off, drooling messily onto his dick and allowing him to use your mouth as he pleased. You continued moving your hand in circular up and down motions on the half of his dick that couldn’t fit into your mouth. “you’re doing so good, love. so fuckin’ perfect.” he praised you in between grunts and whimpers.

Eren’s grip tightened in your hair as he began thrusting up into your warm wet mouth. You moaned around his cock as he did, loving the feeling of him fucking your throat. It hurt in the most blissful way. The sound of it was so lewd. The gargling and spluttering sounds of your mouth swallowing his dick filling the space of Eren’s bedroom. “you eat this dick so fuckin’ good. Made just for me baby.” He moaned out as he threw his head back.

Eren was lost in the feeling of your tight throat around his dick. He felt like he could cum at any second with how good it felt. Not to mention how filthy you looked while eagerly taking his fat cock into your open mouth. Tears were streaming down your cheeks and frothy bubbles of spit spilled from the corners of your mouth as you let him use your mouth like a personal flesh toy. “ungh fuck! ‘m gonna cum baby” he whined pathetically.

You loved that he was falling apart so quickly all because of you. It turned you on so much. Your cunt was wet and itching for some attention — clenching around nothing as your panties grew soaked, sticking to your damp folds. You let out choked moans and gargles as eren fucked up into your mouth harder and faster, chasing his orgasm. You started to rub at your aching clit as eren used your mouth for his pleasure.

Your eyes rolling back at the stimulation to your clit and from being used so degradingly. “fuck! fuckfuckfuck..” eren swore as he let out a loud moan, holding your head down as he came in your mouth. “good girl. take all of it.” he breathed as he watched you swallow up his thick white ropes of cum. You whined as you swallowed as much as you could, some of it dripping down your chin and onto eren’s balls.

You pulled off with a disgusting wet suction sound, a thick web of spit and eren’s cum clinging to your mouth. eren didn’t care at all about the messy fluids, still grabbing you by your jaw and kissing you sloppily. He laid you down so that he was on top of you and slotted himself between your legs. “missed you so damn much.” he reiterated again as he yanked your panties off. He ran his fingers through your sticky folds before sliding two into your needy cunt.

The moan you let out was instantaneous, happy to finally have some proper attention to your pussy. “missed this pretty pussy too.” He muttered as he thrusted his fingers into you, watching the way your cunt eagerly sucked in his tatted fingers. You were so wet that you were already dripping down his hand, your slick seeping through the cracks of his fingers. “feels good baby?” he asked and you nodded fervently as you whined and moaned.

Eren started kissing and sucking possessive marks onto your neck as he rubbed tight circles onto your sensitive clit. You fisted his sheets as you cried out at the pleasure. You hadn’t been touched since the last time you were with eren so you were more sensitive than usual. “so sensitive and noisy baby.” he cooed. “you didn’t let anyone else touch my pretty cunt, did you?” He pressed as he slammed his fingers into you harder, the heel of his palm slamming down onto your clit.

You mewled, and cried out his name; your legs in a war of wanting to close and wanting to spread more for him. “m-mhm! n-no one else” you told him honestly as you squirmed under him and whimpered like a slut. “good girl. this cunt is mine only. to use as I please.” he claimed possessively as he curled his fingers inside you. His knuckles grazed that spot that had your eyes rolling back and your toes curling.

“m-mmfph! m’gonna-“ you wailed out but your cries got cut short by eren pulling his fingers out. You instantly let out a sob at the loss. “shh shh, hold on princess.” he soothed, placing kisses on your teary cheeks as he lined his cock up with your pulsating hole. He slid in with ease due to how wet you were; the two of you moaning in sync as he bottomed out. “fuckin’ hell..” he muttered under his breath as he gripped your hips in a bruising hold.

You were letting out incessant little whines as you squirmed and tried to adjust to his cock stretching you out and filling you up. “stop all that fuckin’ squirming.” he grunted and you whimpered. “‘m’sorry..can’t help it.” you whined and pouted. eren started off with slow thrusts to get you comfortable and relaxed; even though the urge to just pound into you was itching inside him. You appreciated that eren was giving you time to adjust.

“jus’ tell me when, sweetheart.” he murmured as he placed kisses along your jawline. You stopped squirming, relaxing as you fell into eren’s slow deliberate thrusts. It felt so good but eventually it wasn’t enough. “more” you whined as your legs wrapped tightly around Eren’s waist to pull him in deeper. Eren didn’t need to be told twice, pulling out all the way to the tip just to slam back into you hard.

He groaned as he began to pound into you ruthlessly making you squeal and cry out. Your nails scratched down Eren’s back, breaking the skin and drawing blood as he fucked you into the mattress. “shit” he hissed at the sting; he loved the pain and it only fueled him into fucking you harder and faster. The sound of skin slapping growing louder in the room along with the sound of your cries and Eren’s moans.

“ngh- love this pussy s’much. feels so fuckin’ good, sweet girl.” he praised, obsessing over the feeling of the slick plush walls of your cunt squeezing his dick. Your head was hanging off the edge of the bed as eren fucked you like a man starved — his dick abusing your poor cervix as you sobbed in pleasure. slobber and tears poured downwards on your face; your eyes growing hazy and blurred due to the blood rushing to your head.

“‘s s-so good ‘rennie mmph!” you hiccuped, your words slurred and barely intelligible. “look at you. all fucked stupid already. such a pretty slut f’me” he cooed as he grabbed your face to lift up your head. He looked into your glazed over eyes as he continued to ram his cock into you relentlessly — your pupils dilated and your face caked with tears. “fuck..you’re beautiful.” he breathed out as he stared at your face with pure adoration.

You managed a dopey smile at his heartfelt compliment. You knew you most likely looked a mess at the moment but you were glad that he still thought you were beautiful. “t-thank ah uhng- you” you slurred out in a moan. “tell me you’re mine.” he demanded as he drilled into you. He dropped your head to wrap his hand tightly around your neck, cutting off your air supply only slightly as his cock hammered against your gspot.

You let out a strangled scream at the intense pleasure, your nails clawing at eren’s hands and causing him to whimper at the rough scratches. “‘m yours! all yours ‘ren!” you forced out in a choked wail. Eren knew you were his now but he was obsessed with hearing it. He’d never get sick of hearing you say it. “mm fuck, I love hearing you say that so much baby” he groaned as his head rolled back in pleasure.

By now your eyes were crossing, vision turning bleary due to the position you were in and eren’s hand around your neck affecting your air supply. You were just on the verge of passing out when eren let your throat go and pulled you up into his arms. “you still with me baby?” he checked on you as he pulled out. You whined and nodded slowly, regulating your breathing as eren positioned you to lay on your stomach.

“use your words sweetheart.” he urged softly as he gently grabbed your face to get a good look at you. “‘m okay, promise.” you reassured him with a small smile. “good.” he sighed softly in relief and then kissed you tenderly. Eren then lifted your hips up slightly and pushed his cock back inside you. The two of you moaning breathlessly together at the familiar feeling. In this position you felt so full of eren and smothered by him in the best way.

“you take me in so good baby. I love feeding my dick to this needy cunt.” He uttered into your neck as he fucked into you in the prone bone position. He grabbed your hands to intertwine your fingers with his as he fucked you with deep purposeful strokes this time. You were a blubbering mess now as Eren’s dick consistently hit your sweet spot, making that coil in your abdomen threaten to burst.

“you gonna cum for me baby, hm?” he encouraged against your sweaty, dewy brown skin as he fucked you senseless. He was fucking you with less intensity than before but somehow it felt way more intense when he actually took his time. You were too gone to properly form words now, only able to produce sobs and whines. “awh, my princess is being fucked too good to speak.” he teased with a soft chuckle as he placed kisses along your shoulder blades.

Eren let one of your hands go to slide it in between your body and the mattress, he began to rub on your sticky cum covered clit as he continued to burrow his dick deep inside you. The added stimulation to your clit took you over the edge, your legs trembling as you sobbed into the pillows. “there you go, my sweet girl.” he cooed as you came undone around his cock. The way your cunt squeezed around his dick as you came made eren lose his pace, his eyes fluttering as he came almost in time with you.

His thrust came to a slow stop as he filled up your puffy abused cunt. He laid on you as he caught his breath. You were hooked on the feeling of his body weight on you, so warm and heavy like a big personal human heated blanket. You hoped he’d never get up even if he was crushing you. Eren enjoyed the feeling just as much as you did, relishing in the intimate skin to skin contact. The two of you lay like that for a while longer until eren pulled away.

You whined and tried to pull him back, he chuckled. “I know baby, but I gotta get you cleaned up.” He hummed and placed a kiss on the nape of your neck before pulling away again. He gently pulled his cock out of you and then made his way to his bathroom. You had gave up on trying to stay conscious, your eyes drooping and slowly falling shut as you drifted asleep.

Eren gently cleaned up your sleeping form with a warm washcloth before he climbed back into bed with you. He kissed your forehead and pulled you close as he fell asleep alongside you. This time when you woke up inside Eren’s blindingly bright bedroom, you felt at peace. It felt right this time. You woke up before eren did and you took advantage of the time to freely ogle at him while trailing your fingers along his chest.

You grinned as you watched eren start to shift in his sleep. “You enjoying watching me, love?” him speaking so suddenly caught you off guard making you jump slightly. He opened his eyes and burst out laughing at the deer in headlights look on your face. “That’s not funny!” You huffed as you lightly slapped his chest. “It is though, you should’ve seen your face.” He said as he laugher died down.

“Goodmorning though princess.” He smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Goodmorning” you repeated back with a smile of your own. “You hungry? this time I’ll make actual food for you, I promise.” He offered with a laugh. “mm, I’m holding you to that. No slick talk, sir.” You stated as you held a finger to his face to emphasize your point. “You got it ma’am” he chucked with a nod.

Eren stood on his word and actually did make you a proper breakfast that you devoured happily. That was the start of your relationship with him. The relationship between you two continued on for three more months and the more time passed the more the two of you fell in love with each other. On one of your mundane days relaxing with eren, he suggested going to a party. “I don’t know ‘rennie..”

“You know I don’t like parties.” You muttered honestly, unsure about going. “I know baby but it won’t be bad. I’ll be with you the whole time. Ony is going and he wants me to join him but I don’t want to go without you.” He tried to persuade you as he gave your hand a small squeeze. You sighed, “okay, but only for an hour. No more than that.” You stated your terms. “yes mama.” he easily obliged and gave you a kiss.

The party was as you expected — crowded and loud, filled with the smell of weed and alcohol. You stayed close to eren as the two of you roamed the party to find his friend ony. Being at this party gave you flashbacks to attending parties with connie; only this time you had a new boyfriend who actually cared about you and paid attention to you. The two of you eventually found ony and it felt strange to actually be acknowledged when eren was with his friends.

You were so used to being ignored in the past that it felt nice to be seen and included for once. Things were going so well until the last person you ever wanted to see again walked in with two girls clinging to him. “Oh fuck, am I seeing things?” Connie laughed as he spotted you and eren. You immediately grew uncomfortable. “You actually turned a hoe into a housewife.” He joked but only he laughed. “Shut the fuck up connie. You’re still a bitch made pussy.” Eren snapped.

“and you still got my sloppy seconds. You know how you get’em is how you lose’em. Don’t be shocked when she leaves you to go fuck someone else.” Connie shrugged in response. “I’d never do that! I only did that to you because you were a piece of shit boyfriend. I actually love eren and he treats me how I deserve to be treated.” You stood up for yourself this time. It felt great to finally speak up to Connie and the shock on his face made it worth it.

Eren smiled down at you with pride, placing a kiss on top of your head. “ew.” Connie grumbled childishly at the sight. “You don’t need to worry about her or our relationship. She’s all mine now and I got it handled.” Eren stated confidently as he stared at Connie. Connie glared at him but accepted defeat as he turned around and stormed off. You let out a sigh once he left. “I told you coming to this party was a bad idea.” You muttered with a bitter laugh.

“Hour’s almost up anyways.” He reminded with a hum — attempting to cheer you up as he cupped your face. “You’re mine, right?” He asked you with an expectant look. You instantly smiled at the question you’ve heard too many times to count now. It was like an inside joke now. Sometimes you’d ask him, most of the time he’d ask you, but the answer always remained the same.

“I’m all yours.”

tags <3

@misscaller06 @erenjaegerwifee @sinsensual1 @blessed-princesa @antichristisbby @undermypersuasion @sheluvsscarti

hopefully y’all ain’t forget about part 3 by now 🫣

[luveline]

I adore your 'kisses before dinner' au. Bethie has my entire heart <3!!!

Is it possible to request a fic where Bethie is in a stage of wanting to dress similarly and wear makeup like mom!reader? And Steve catches the lovely moment of them getting together for their mommy/daughter date and marvels at his pretty girls? 🥹<3

thank you for requesting!! mom!reader

“I want to wear blue.” 

“Yes,” you say, dragging out the soft ‘s’. “Your favourite colour out of all of the colours, mommy remembers.” 

Bethie smiles and looks down at your feet. “Yeah, mommy.” 

You reach for her face, cupping it in two loving hands to encourage her to look up again. Your fingers cover the side of her heads, your thumb rubbing sweet, gentle circles into her cheeks. “You know how you told dad you wanted to dress like me?” 

“Yeah,” she says, holding your wrist. She has very little hands, even for her age. 

“Well, I’ve got us dresses that are nearly the same one, and they’re blue. Should we have a look at them?” 

You and Bethie kneel by the dresser to unearth the paper bag you’ve tucked away in the bottom drawer under Steve’s socks and underwear. Bethie waits patiently, quiet and still, her hand tucked under her legs to stop from snatching. You admire her dedication to being well-behaved. “Baby, you can touch them! They’re for us!” 

Steve gets really worried about Bethie being shy, and he can’t understand it. “You aren’t shy!” he’d said to you before, “And I’m not shy, I don’t get it, I really don’t. All her favourite people are loud.” 

“We aren’t shy now, Steve. But you were a quiet kid, right? That’s what your mom said.”

“My mom would tell you the sun is blue to spite me.” But he’d conceded. Steve doesn’t mind if Bethie’s shy, he just wants what’s best for her, and being shy can be awful. 

Building her confidence was a big reason behind these mommy-daughter dates. Building her confidence, tackling Avery’s want for affection (which she deserves to have), and getting Dove out of the house —you love getting to have them one on one. You and Steve are gonna switch out after this set. He had big plans for his dates. 

You’re trying to keep it simple. You and Bethie pull on your matching dresses and dark tights while your shoes wait for you downstairs. You'd tackled her hair that morning, leaving makeup as your last port of call. “Alright,” you command, patting your lap where you sit cross-legged on the floor, “come here, sweetpea.” 

She lets out one of those happy-excited gasps that only kids seem to be able to make and hurries into your lap. You hear Steve’s footsteps on the stairs as she sits, your pretty husband edging open the door with his foot to peek inside. You smile at him, hoping it says to come inside. 

“Can I have, um, lip gloss? The pink one? That you always say gives sticky kisses?” Bethie asks.

“Yeah, for sure. I thought we’d powder your face first, how’s that?” 

She nods and closes her eyes. You pout at Steve, summoning him to sneak to the bed so he can see her tightly squeezed eyelids and her lips puckered for gloss. He puts his hand on his heart. 

He melts more and more as you go. Bethie relaxes her eyes the longer her makeup takes, though you only add little tiny dabs of everything. A dusting of powder, a short patting of crème blush on her cheeks. 

“Last but not least,” you say, gliding the pad of the lip gloss applicator  over her bottom lip. “Rub your lips together.” 

“Like this?” She rubs her lips, gloss spreading up into her cupid’s bow and under her nose. 

You wipe the smudge away with your pinky nail. “Perfect.” 

“You can say that again.” 

Steve doesn’t sound like he’s joking. He clutches the fabric of his t-shirt just below his heart, totally in love as Beth opens her eyes to smile at him shyly. “You look amazing,” he says, fingers tapping his chest in emphasis. “Beth, you look so pretty.” 

“You think so?” 

Steve sits on the end of the bed to hold her hand. He’s soft with his touches, caressing her arm with his other hand as he says, “Of course I do. How about you blow mommy off and go on a date with me tonight instead?”

She giggles. “No, daddy!” 

“You don’t wanna go out with me instead?” He ruffles his hair. “Is it the way I look?” 

“No, me and mom are gonna go to the pizza party at the bowling alley,” she says. 

“I like bowling.” 

“For time together,” she says, flopping into Steve’s arms to hug his front. “It’s okay, dad, I’m coming back.” 

“You are?” He kisses her forehead, meeting your eyes over her head, fondness in their slight squint and furrow of his brow. “That’s good. Miss you too much if you didn’t.” 

[nadvs]

I love love love this new au🥹 coming from a severely stressed Uni student could you write how rafe would take care of her when she’s studying too much barely eating or drinking and just really anxious for exams and stressed out.

aaa thank you angel 🥺 yes of course!! i hope you feel better soon!!

based on this fic

“…practice until five,” she hears.

“sorry, what?” she mumbles to rafe, her stare focused ahead.

her boyfriend gazes at her profile as they sit in his bedroom, watching a show on his flatscreen.

“my schedule next week,” he says. “you asked about it.”

“right,” she says. she meets his concerned blue eyes. “sorry. i was out of it again.”

she can feel herself retreating from reality all the time. finals are only a month away and she keeps catching herself zoning out out of lectures and conversations, spiralling into nerve-racking hypotheticals.

“did you eat today?” he asks.

“um… i think so?” she says.

“you’d remember if you did.”

rafe grabs his phone out from beneath the covers to order takeout. she looks at his screen, his wallpaper the photo of herself in his jersey that she’s seen so many times, and realizes it’s minutes away from eight p.m.

“fuck, it’s eight?” she says, scrambling out of bed. “i was supposed to go home to study like an hour ago.”

she grabs her things, staring at him with wide eyes, confused why he isn’t rushing to leave.

“you can drive me, right?” she asks.

“chill for a second,” he sighs. “what if you skipped it tonight? sleep here.”

“i can’t. i can barely sleep in my own bed,” she says. “i can barely sleep at all. if it’s a hassle to drive me, i can order a-”

“no.” rafe stands, relenting. he knows she’ll just argue if he pushes. “let’s go.”

“are you mad?” she asks.

“no,” he says.

“we don’t bullshit-”

“bullshit each other, i know,” he finishes her sentence. “i’m not mad.”

she trails him out of the room. even though he said he’s not mad, he’s acting like it.

rafe’s hands are tight on the steering wheel as he drives to her college campus through dark, busy streets. his girl’s been in her own world lately. every day, it gets worse.

he knows fighting will just stress her out more. he tries to encourage her to take breaks, but it seems to just make her spiral more.

he gets it. his mind gets tangled up, too. pressure can be a bitch. so, he bites his tongue for her sake. she’s the only person he cares enough to reign in his temper for.

“you’re really not mad?” she asks softly.

“i’m worried,” he admits.

she’s silent, staring out the window.

“it’s just finals,” she says. “i’ll be okay.”

rafe’s not entirely convinced. but he gives her the space she needs and drops her off.

about half an hour later, she gets a text from him that there’s takeout waiting for her downstairs. she can’t manage to eat everything because he sent enough food to feed a whole group of people.

then, he texts her close to midnight to see if she went to bed yet.

she replies: can’t fall asleep.

he texts: i’ll be there soon.

when rafe arrives, he calls her to come downstairs. she tries to climb in the passenger seat, but he tells her to go the back. when she opens the door, she sees that he laid out blankets and a pillow across the backseat.

“what is this?” she asks.

“you said you can’t sleep in your bed. or mine,” he says. “what if i drove around? could you sleep then?”

“are you serious?” she says.

“i’ll park in front of my place when you fall asleep. i’ll stay in the car. just get comfortable, alright?”

she settles in the back, leaning across the seat, following his instructions to still buckle herself in.

“thank you,” she says as he starts to drive. her eyelids are already getting heavy, the steady motion of the car genuinely helping. “sorry i’ve been so stressed out.”

“just sleep, baby,” he says.

“okay,” she whispers.

it works. she dozes off within minutes. he drives around for a while to make sure she’s deep asleep.

after he parks in his driveway, he sprawls out in his seat. this is uncomfortable. he’ll be sore tomorrow. and maybe the next day, which is a game day.

but as he listens to her deep breaths, he doesn’t doubt that she’s worth it. she hasn’t been taking care of herself lately. if he has to do it for her, he will. every time.

[ssentimentals]

hello ily 🫶🏻 can i ask for soft prompt 29 + joshua please? 🥹

hi pretty, love you back!! thank you for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

fluff prompt: 'if i ever lost you, i'd fall apart.'

you glance worriedly at your boyfriend, who's been pretty silent since the moment you got discharged from the hospital. joshua is not a very talkative guy, but it's rare for him to be this quiet too especially in your presence. his hand that usually is locked with yours when he drives is now gripping the steering wheel and it's.. baffling. a bit upsetting too, to be very honest. you try to remember if something happened during the last hour, but you can't latch on anything that could've made him like this. 'shua?' you call quietly. 'is everything alright?'

he quickly glances at you before focusing back on the road. 'yes, sweetheart. are you alright? nothing hurts anymore, right?'

you nod before hesitantly continuing: 'i am okay. you look a bit tense, that's why i asked if you're alright.'

joshua doesn't answer, not outright. it takes several minutes for him to find the correct words and he starts explaining during the red light: 'all of it just dawned on me. how i could lose you just like that, by some stupid accident. it's a heavy thought, you know?'

not expecting this reply at all, you turn to him with wide eyes. 'i'm here, shua. everything is alright now.'

'i know, i know. i swear i'm not trying to be dramatic or like to dumpen the mood right now, because you are so happy that we can finally go home...' he sighs and grips the steering wheel tighter. 'and i'm happy too. so happy, baby, you have no idea. if i ever lost you, i'd fall apart.'

'oh.' you reach out to him and brush away a single tear that falls down his cheek. 'baby. joshua, my love. i am here.'

you didn't know. your mind doesn't go places like that one and you generally try to be more focused on positivity and thinking only about good outcome. you had no idea that joshua even thought of this, that something like this plagued his mind. even though you can't possibly promise this, you still say: 'you won't ever lose me, shua.'

this is all he needed to hear - he grips your hand and pulls it to his mouth, letting it stay there as few more tears escape his eyes. when you come home, you'll stay with him in bed until he lets it all out, but for now you only squeeze his hand back, hoping that this is enough of a reminder to him that you are here. and you're not going anywhere.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini