#i'm usually never accurate about these things
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jean moreau is a scorpio !!! i can die in peace bc i always knew it in my heart
#like i can't believe this#i'm usually never accurate about these things#but something screamed scorpio#just felt right#jean moreau#all for the game#the sunshine court#aftg#tsc
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there's something sadly funny about the way that Kaladin goes into literally every situation thinking "Too bad I'm not cool anymore 😔"
I mean. I get it. Depression fucks your brain up and you feel detached from yourself and any skills you have or had. The PTSD and chronic fatigue are keeping him from doing things he once managed with far less effort. And it's rather impossible to feel like you can just... do things like you used to when you're struggling at a basic level to simply be.
Still, literally everyone who knows him is like "Kaladin you're so storming cool" and he goes "They're referring to the person I was, who is dead. I'll never be cool again. I'm sorry."
The most hilarious thing? He walks into these moments, thinking 'too bad', and then he does the most objectively amazing thing possible while everyone else just watches in awe.
Kaladin, three seconds after absolutely changing everyone's outlook on life: Aw, it's too bad the person I just was died again. Guess I have to find something else to be cuz I sure can't pull that off anymore.
#this ramble brought to you by the scene near the end of ROW where Kal is about to defend the last node and is like#“would be cool if I was here. too bad I'm dead. I'll try to pretend one last time”#meanwhile everyone adores him just for still trying. still daring to fight.#I guess the point is you're not dead and you're not useless and you're not failing to measure up as long as you're still fighting#Just Brando writing writing painfully accurate mental illness as usual#kaladin is fr me every time someone says something nice about a fic I've written#I act like it was a one time thing and I'll never pull it off again#me three hours after publishing a fic: yes thank you but it's too bad I don't think I'll ever write again. I know.#like oh you were emotionally impacted? what a funny coincidence; I'm sorry for tricking you into believing in me; that was rude of me#meanwhile the 509k ao3 word count and repeat readers: 💀#kaladin stormblessed#stormlight archive#stormlight archive reread#rhythm of war reread
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20/10 stars little guy
#me (scrounging undetected autist whose ideal fashion sense is ''if i have to be seen at all: shrouded'') seeing encanto the other month.....#and on top of it all i LOVE slice of life. encanto being so focused on What It's About that there's so much of that + character / dynamic#also part of what i loved abt pixar luca. ppl like ''simple story but not a problem :)'' like YEAH thank god it's Also so slice of lifey#2021 what a year lol. though again i only Just saw encanto....tfw Studio Creative Control backs off a bit more than usual: Joy & Wonders#anyway i knew going in bruno wasn't an antagonist (fine if he was though b/c slay & b/c scapegoats can do whatever they want)#knew i'd love him b/c again Scapegoat shows up & i'm the Amazing Showstopping Totally Unique Never The Same gif on loop#but what a delight even beyond those expectations lol. love again how Focused the movie is on What It's About & Thee Points it makes#the Characters / Dynamics & the Metaphor & the plot stays right with all of that. the focus & importance re: thee scapegoats....#& bruno being disabled like whole layer of Yay Yay Yay spamming. that even when He's Back we're reminded he's not ''normal now'' or w/e#(i.e. presenting that as The Good Ending for the disabled outcast. vs just being embraced as part of the group again & accepted As He Is)#meanwhile was like hmm chat is there queercoding do we think? like is he queer: Yes. but is there coding? hmm#sure isn't cishet coded though. but i was also having the thought like fellas is it gay to [higher tenor tessitura or w/e] lol#made me go ''do i know this voice? ok do i know this name / face / actor? (i have never seen anything ever / bad w/names/faces/voices)''#indeed was like yeah haven't seen this; heard of this; seen it once ages ago no way i remember more than like 0.6 details#then from ''ohh haha I'm A Mammal That Cares....yeah i hear that'' to ''omg CHI-CHI RODRIGUEZ???? ;;0;;'' waaah fantastic revelation lmao#also the way Literal Future Seer ability was externalized to make it more wrangleable for plot is so impressive & fun & excellent#got a lot of [i like this thing i saw a lot] i got to say....guess i can do that w/the sideblog i made for one drawing i made last night#encanto 2021#bruno madrigal#also the way bruno is so Nervous + Hiding / Bold + Big Personality like yes ha ha ha Yes....tamped down as ''too much'' experience#also the [stuttering stumbling muttering mumbling] line: i fr nigh wept upon going back over a moment like what am i hearing here?#& realizing the answer was: it's bruno quietly stuttering a moment during this one line (& then (& then (& then)) i saw you) ;;;mm;;;#hang onnn....the first scapegoat who's driven off being Disabled is so real so ;m; that again they're like so he got Weirder; Okay ;;m;;#that we get jorge thumbs up nobody having an Aside to be like [ugh; this guy] or Anything. augh always have too much to say for 30 tags#fabric drape there sure not accurate but i was like okay if i try to really reference that i'm not getting this done tonight
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#things don't really usually get to me like this so idk what is it this time#but all this fucking les-tappen disk horse going around is so tiring#now ppl talking about what kind of characterizations and tropes are okay and accurate and whatnot#and i agree on some points! certain things annoy me too!#but this talk especially coming from ppl who don't write themselves is bothering me a bit#who have never sat at their keyboard at 1am in love with the story they're crafting barely able to wait to post and see ppl's reactions#i'm suddenly full of doubt like what if what i'm writing is horseshit why bother sharing it#and i know my stories will have their readers and i shouldn't have doubts if ppl don't like them they can just click away i've accepted thi#but i really do but i think this sort of talk is not very encouraging to writers in general no matter what tropes they write#just having a moment here i will continue to write and maybe publish something again some day i'm just frustrated rn#biannual bitching session over#i didn't even say half i wanted to say#maybe i will continue bitching later who knows#talking
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Every time I try to watch the tudors I reach the part where they made mary and margaret the same character who for some reason is queen of portugal and I die inside
#I'm very aware of how the show is not exactly historically accurate#and usually I'm like not that strict with historically accurate stuff#hell i read philippa gregory books I can't complain about it much#but some times... some times things are too much#because if Margaret doesn't exist in this universe then mary queen of scots will never exist and if she never exists#then the king that comes after Elizabeth I never exists#anyway anyway
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No but sometimes I am so tired of playing therapist/neurotypicals translator for my neurodivergent friend like. It's exhausting, to have to be the one to explain why your friend got upset when you just signed her up for the same study group as yourself without asking her first or letting her sign up for what group she wanted herself.
Like. I am good at patiently explaining these things, which is why she always asks me about these things but it's exhausting. But also therapy isn't very accessible and she doesn't have anyone else who really gets her problems understanding stuff to the same level I do so....
Then another friend who doesn't do this on this level but who does go on about how great it is that we can kinda laugh about neurodivergent problems together and such and how amazing it is and how she never really talked about these things with anyone else, which I agree it's great to have someone to talk about it but? The way she phrases it, puts a lot of pressure on me and makes it kinda weird? Like it's this great secret we're sharing? Especially since we haven't known each other all that long?
And like. Idk. I get it, I get to you it's amazing to have someone to talk about this to, someone who gets some of your struggles, someone who talks very openly and happily about being neurodivergent but. Man. I'm great but I'm not an expert in all things neurodivergent. I'm not?? Idk I'm not "special" for having adhd or for talking openly about it, I'm just some perfect life coach, I don't have my own life together, all I've got going for me is that I know what my problems are and that I'm not super afraid to talk about them
Idk. It's just exhausting. Like.... These two in particular just have vibes of kinda putting me on a pedestal (though in different ways) and that just makes me uncomfortable but also idk how to set boundaries there bc "stop telling me that I'm awesome" is. Hmm. It's not like that's what they do. They just imply it. They imply that things I do or say that really aren't anything special are somehow amazing and like??? Idk man I'm just me? Compliment me for the things I do that are actually awesome, not like... For agreeing to do a fun thing with you? I don't do it out of?? Pity? Or whatever? I want to do the fun thing?
#idk it's weird#the second one especially bc like... the first one I've figured out how to set boundaries mostly#she exhausts me sometimes but it's ok#but the second one? it's so weird like? idk she makes me uncomfortable sometimes#like we originally started meeting up to study and obviously ended up chatting quite a bit during that too#and she sends me like. several paragraphs long messages shortly after our meetups end several times?#that almost read like she's reviewing our conversation? it just. i don't like it#like... idk. it makes me uncomfy when ppl who don't know me that well go on about how good it was to talk to me about x or y#or how they usually don't have such great convos or whatever#like.... it feels... like they are very quickly creating an idea of who i am and what i am like in their head#and even if that idea of me is very positive it's still not accurate and it puts a lot of pressure on me to then... be that person i guess?#idk idk#and now this whole neurodivergent thing... like she basically said ''ive never told anyone this'' and i said well you don't have to#tell me your exact diagnosis or anything it's fine#and she didn't and I'm glad bc that would put even more pressure on me#but like she made it a whole Thing and i get even saying ''i'm neurodivergent'' out loud is big for her and that's great#but again. why me. we've known each other for like 3 months. please slow down there#yes I'm awesome but you're projecting ways in which i am awesome that are not real#and you don't even know about some of the ways i am indeed awesome#idk i really don't. we'll see.#trouble is i do like her and i do wanna be friends but man stop assigning me as your best friend forever please you'll get disappointed#this post went far away from it's original point and is now about so many different things#it's fine#rant#personal
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i've always found it easy to talk about my personal shit in therapy and small groups or whatever, places that seem like they're expecting me to be vulnerable, but CHRIST it is so much fucking harder to actually be vulnerable
#i am so good at saying things that are personal and intimate but don't actually put me in an unsafe position!#people mistake this for composure sometimes and accurately recognize it as just being an oversharer other times#the truth is i use those things to explain my behavior without ever having to be direct about my feelings#i hide my actual self and feelings from myself and others within the maze of therapy speak#even now i'm avoiding doing anything about the things i'm actually worried about with the people i care about#i need to be honest with r about my doubts and soren about my questions and e about my reservations and t about my dissatisfaction#need to be honest with d about my whole agenda w him and my parents about. a whole bunch of stuff#but like. that's hard. what if they find out they've been hurting me or i find out i've been hurting them#telling some rando you never intend to so much as invite over that you're afraid you're unlovable in the eyes of God or whatever is nothing#although usually a false intimacy and probably a bad idea in the long run#telling your gf that you're not there yet when she says i love you? asking your bestie if they're happy their partner proposed?#when you think the answer might be no and you have an unstated personal opinion on it?#rather attend 999999 more christian small groups with negligible real risk than open myself up to the possibility of hurting or getting hurt#i'm going to give it my best shot but CHRIST
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Notes from a concerned medical professional who reads too much hurt/comfort:
(These are all things I've seen in Hazbin/Helluva fanfics)
(Tw: for injury, illness, gore, drug use, overdose, a lot of other things)
You cannot drug someone to sleep by overdosing them on melatonin. It will not work
Don't submerge an open wound or stitches in a bathtub/pool/etc it will introduce bacteria to the wound (taking a shower is usually fine, just skip the romantic bath)
On that note, stitches do not immediately stop a wound from bleeding and should not be used to solve every problem (never give yourself stitches unless you have absolutely no other choice they can trap infection inside the body when done incorrectly)
And, if the wound is extremely deep, a person may need several layers of stitches to piece together the skin, muscle, and viscera
You absolutely cannot get high on tylenol or ibuprofen even if you mix it with alcohol.
If you do mix tylenol or ibuprofen with alcohol it can cause internal bleeding/kidney damage/liver failure, so please don't do that
If someone is shivering from a high fever, don't cover them in blankets it will raise their body temperature even more (please try correctly dosed tylenol or ibuprofen for this)
Don't submerge someone with a high fever in ice water, they might go into shock (they also might panic and hurt themselves) in a pinch lukewarm water will do
Don't put ice on burns, run them under lukewarm or cool water instead
If someone overdoses on an opoid (heroin, morphine, various pain medications), there is a medicine called nalaxone (Narcan) that can reverse the effects of opioids (edit: thank you to @queerlybehooved)
If someone is bleeding profusely, don't just hold their head and whisper sweet nothings, put pressure on the wound!!!
If a bullet remains in a person’s body after being shot it most likely should not be dug out unless it's blocking something vital, the bullet is not the problem the damage it made in it's path is
This isn't a criticism of authors who have written things like this. A lot of it isn't common knowledge, and DIY healthcare is absolutely steeped in myth and misinformation. I just worry about disinformation being perpetuated (and I really enjoy accurate hurt/comfort)
If I got anything wrong, please let me know, and I'll edit the post. I'm far from perfect and appreciate good advice
Let me know if you guys want a fic rec list of my favorite Hazbin Hotel whump fics
#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#radioapple#radiostatic#appleradio#hazbin hotel charlie#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#angel dust#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel angel#angelhusk#huskerdust#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor#original#i contributed#radiorose#platonic radiorose#tw:#injury
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A Bargain To Remember
Kinktember Day 13: Car sex
(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut
words: 4,950 Kinktember Masterlist
"Finally, a face to the name."
You know all about Miyeon, of course. She's the type of girl whose face is plastered on every screen and every street in every corner of the galaxy, a darling of the interplanetary conglomerates. From the spaceports to even the most downtrodden of back-alleys, you can probably find her face on some poster or flyer or some massive digital billboard high above you—those corporate powers that be sure want to squeeze as much out of her as possible.
The surprise is that she knows you.
Of course, it's on those screens, or the ones at home, or the ones in their pockets, that most people become acquainted with a girl like Miyeon. Those glossy eyes, her effervescent smile, her delicate but fierce features, of course, they leave an impression. They sell you dreams, products and promises. That's why you can find her all over the place—but the versions of her you can interact with— ones to purchase and enjoy—are another beast altogether.
"Can I help you, miss?" you feign ignorance of her identity as she takes the chair at the other end of your desk.
"I would like to make a purchase."
"A purchase? From me? What could I possibly offer to someone like you? I sell scrap electronics to junkies and fix the broken implants of low-life thugs. How could that possibly interest you?"
She crosses her legs, and says, "Don't play with me. I have seen your work, quite the artist you are, though I wouldn't say you exactly have my mannerisms down. The curve of my mouth, the cadence of my voice—not exactly up to par with the real deal. But as fakes go, you do well with what you have."
You scratch at the back of your head and then catch a bead of sweat forming at your temple, "Think you have the wrong guy, miss. You're talking AI and Virts here. Not my thing, definitely not my forte."
She's quiet as you look around at anything but her face. The grey concrete walls and steel beam of the roof are awfully fascinating suddenly, and then the holos playing on loop above the screens of your makeshift booth—really anything than to have to admit that your life's work consists of making and selling forgeries of people like her. She knows why she's here—the least you could do is be brave and admit to your craft.
"I tried your work myself. Quite the experience. Can't say I ever planned on fucking myself—but well, there's a first time for everything I guess."
There's enough power across your desk to not only shut you down and make it so the only tech you would ever touch again is a pair of electrified cuffs at best, and at worst she could have you put down and silently disposed.
Miyeon continues, "As I say, it wasn't entirely accurate, I'm not actually that loud or aggressive, for the record. But it was fun, so if you're thinking I'm about to expose you, not the case—I'm actually here to invest in your skill. Your art is fun, and I dare say your tastes in women, are spot on."
You let out a small nervous laugh and then say, "I don't usually take requests."
Her pink-painted lips, the gloss shimmering slightly from the bright fluorescent overhead light, form into a delicate, mischievous grin. "I'm willing to make you an offer, one you won't refuse. You get me what I want, and I'll license your work. Think about it. An official Miyeon VirtueX™, think of how lucrative an asset that could be. The whole galaxy's lining up to get a taste—and you would be the only real supply."
You lean forward in your chair to peer at her and ask, "Let's say I was who you think I am, what is it that you want from me?"
"What I want from you," she pauses and tilts her head, her eyes glance across your features briefly and her tongue traces the edges of her teeth. "Is to show me the past." She places a drive on the desk—old-tech, the kind that would never run on any kind of systems that are sold today. "You can get this working, right?"
"Is that a government stamp?" You point to the symbol on the drive. "I plug that in and I'll have execution squads here in under a minute."
"It's all above board. Officially disposed and untracked. I just need to live it, once." Her voice is quiet and pensive.
"Alright. Deal. But those two lumps of metal you call bodyguards have to stay out there, and you're coming through to my studio. If I'm gonna help, you have to play by my rules."
She flashes you a winning smile. You thought you had her pegged down but all this has proved you wrong—there was more to Miyeon than the flashy clothes and the blinding lights, a lot more. And your curiosity is getting the better of you now.
"You know, you're only the third person to ever step in here," you open up the secret passage into the back room, and gesture for Miyeon to step in.
You close the door behind you both and feel the heavy metal slide lock with a hiss.
"The first was me, naturally, and the second left it in a body bag a few years ago."
She doesn't flinch, just brushes past you and sits on the edge of your desk, running a finger along the steel as if surveying the conditions of your equipment. "Hard to imagine you make the stuff you do from a place like this," she says.
"The drive," you say as you hold out a hand.
She passes it over and you examine the shape and material. Most drives these days are designed to interface with neural implant ports or organic docks directly—this is true vintage work. It might have been what some would have called groundbreaking tech a hundred or so years ago. You hook the little device up to your primary work machine and start running tests.
She slides off the table, her hands resting on your shoulders. She bends down, her body pressed into yours as she murmurs near your ear. "How is it?"
"A mess. But a fixable mess. Should have something you can use soon enough."
Miyeon breathes gently in your ear before placing a hand on your arm, "Please, whatever you do, do not look at the contents. It's personal, just let me view it, and live it, one last time. Then you can lock it away again for all eternity and erase the copy from your server. And then you get exactly what you want from me."
You breathe in deeply, a mixture of her perfume and the thick oily scent of hot electronics flooding your brain. "Whatever, it's none of my business anyway. Now take a seat will you." You nod to the chair on the other side of the room.
The drive whirrs softly and a data scan runs to gather all the fragmented encryptions left behind on the device. Miyeon lies flat back on your chair and waits for you to connect her—she holds out her forearm expectantly.
"Come on then," she smiles sweetly and pulls a loose curl behind her ear.
You clamp your eyes tight and inhale. "Here goes nothing." You run the system at the push of a button and all the data you scraped compiles in a memory, one for Miyeon and Miyeon alone to relive. You walk over, drawing the connection from the chair and readying to insert it into her arm. "Connections like these, they can hurt, okay? Are you ready?"
"Do it." She's insistent.
A quick stab of your fingers later and the tiny prongs slide into the barely visible organic slot on her skin. Her head tosses violently and for the first time, there's fear on her face. But as soon as you have her connected, her eyelids begin to flutter. You sit a while, watching her as a million synapses all spark to life behind rolling eyes—whatever the moment is, she is in it. You leave her in peace and sit back at your workstation, waiting.
There's an artificial sensation of the atmosphere becoming slightly humid all around, the lights are a soft pastel blue, and the world is swathed in cotton wool. Silent. You find yourself completely frozen in time. It drags and yet somehow comes to a finish just as you're still adjusting to the quietude.
Miyeon's connection beeps and you turn around, removing the port from your system. She pulls the connection from her arm.
"So, tell me, was it worth the trip down memory lane? You get everything you wanted?" You unplug the old-school hardware and await the confirmation that all the corrupted data's safely expunged from your hard drives.
"Almost everything. But most things, in the end, never get a happy ending, do they?"
"Sounds heavy. The stuff that happened on there, pretty rough, huh."
Her pupils are dilated, the whites of her eyes flooded red. "Like you wouldn't believe." Miyeon climbs from the chair, finding her feet back in the real world after living in another for a precious few minutes. She blinks twice and there's a distinct film over her corneas.
"So that's it? My end of the bargain was fulfilled. And I get my licensed content?"
Miyeon turns and you wonder if that's a tear that's been cast down her cheek. "Sealed and guaranteed. Now let's give you some real data to work with. The right anatomical model, an authentic Miyeon behavioural pattern, every single unique vocal calibration, every erogenous spot, every subtle expression in real-time—have it all. One more condition. I have another memory, a real one in my head, if you make me relive that, you can record it and scrub every detail you need. Are we agreed?"
You nod. "Done. Sit there and we'll connect."
"You're going to manually record?"
"How do you think I get it all so accurate?" you tell her with a smug smile.
She sits and gives a nod. "If it's got to be done." You take a seat behind her, and you both reach over your shoulder to pull the neural connector into your napes and slot them in.
A brief flash of many realities as you slip into her consciousness and she welcomes you to her memory.
A calm setting, sitting in a car, you were driving and she's in the passenger seat. You're parked beside a winding hillside road and looking out over a city. A city you don't recognise. Miyeon's fingers dancing across your thigh with a suggestive gentleness, a sly smile.
"Where are we?" you ask.
"Seoul." Miyeon smiles.
"When are we?"
"2024."
"2024? That's over seventy years ago!"
She laughs. "Yeah? You wanted the real authentic Miyeon, didn't you?"
"Sure, but in 2024? That's just unbelievable. You look the same. How are you so—"
She leans close and traces a finger across the line of your jaw. She stares directly into your eyes and says, "We'll worry about the details later. Right now, you want what I've promised, and you've come this far, so you know what has to be done. We're already where we need to be."
Your senses are engulfed in an emotion and memories that are not your own. All a simulation and all a vivid and overwhelming experience. You're in love with her, that's the overriding feeling—the feeling of whoever she was really with at this time.
"This is the memory of the best sex of my life." She leans close to whisper to you. "So do try your best."
"This is just..." You don't get to finish, she's grabbed your shirt and pulled you close. She kisses you deeply. There is nothing of the daintiness or composure that you're used to, you've lost all your will and she is dragging you out of control. You find yourself consumed with an overwhelming and perplexing ecstasy and the idea of restraint or of reason seems unimportant now. You're driven purely by passion and by instinct—she has to have you and you have to have her, it's almost a compulsion. She's yanking off her seatbelt and reaching for your trousers, clawing at them desperately.
And just like that, you're scrambling at each other's clothes, almost frantic. You have the sensation of her breath across your face, the heat of her lips against your skin. Hands, everywhere. Exploring the curves of her body. A hungry desperation to peel back every layer of fabric to feel more, and more of her. She bites your bottom lip and looks at you with pleading eyes.
"I want you and I want you now." Her lips move like liquid lust and her hand like electricity, the energy tingles when she wraps her fingers around your cock and pulls it free from your pants.
She gasps and then giggles as if pleasantly surprised, a cute and kittenish squeal, she hums with her own approval of her actions.
"I'll be gentle," she whispers, her eyes shining with mischief. She rubs you from tip to base, taking the full length, slowly and teasingly over and again until the blood's pumping and you're at full salute. She's on her knees in the passenger seat and leaning over you. A smirk on her lips, she goes lower and lower still, her tongue warm and wet. Taking your crown into her mouth and enveloping you, her pace slow but sure.
Your hand in her hair, not to control or pressure, just to feel her in the moment. Encourage her, caress the back of her neck and appreciate every moment of pleasure. She takes you deep, deeper into her throat, the heat of her lungs, the power in her movements as she comes off and plunges again and again. It's effortless and instinct, and not for anything other than her own desire to please, and that itself is thrilling, you have to admit.
It's a strange new world for you to have sex without the enhancements of technology. It's so raw.
You sigh and whimper at every suckling pull, your nerve endings raw and singing. Her palms firmly pressing down onto the tops of your thighs, her movements grow slower, more sensual but she sucks harder, the vibrations from the moans of her enjoyment humming through the root of your shaft—fuck, it feels so fucking good, too good. She releases you with a slight gasp for air and a drooling line of spit.
She wipes her lips with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Outside, now." Miyeon doesn't hesitate. Her shirt pulled off and tossed into your face and she's leapt over to the rear passenger door, flinging it open wide, the warm night air rushes in to greet you, along with the sound of crickets. She slams the door shut and you open yours.
You climb out and head to meet her at the front of the car, she's already leaning against the metal hood. The car is one of those muscle cars from back at the time, a real classic ride that suits a woman like her. "Hey you," she rubs her hands against the metal as she leans forward and sprawls herself over it. "Get behind me already," her tongue dancing across her red-stained lips, her chest heaving in excitement, you're as hot and as hard as you'll ever be.
Miyeon tilts her head, watching you closely with half-opened eyes, her pretty pink tongue sticks out between her perfect teeth, and a teasing wink follows. She wiggles her hips, an inviting gesture, her skirt raised to reveal the gentle wobble of her cheeks—she doesn't have underwear, what a perfect minx she is—all bare for you.
She runs a hand down over the hem of her skirt and then raises it fully up over the top of her ass. As glorious as the very stars overhead. You have an overwhelming urge to run your hands across her bare flesh and as you take the first steps towards her, you find your arms reaching and touching and tracing every inch of skin that's exposed.
You run your hands over her cheeks, spreading them, kneading them, Miyeon's letting out soft little noises, encouraging you, inciting you—but fuck, this view... it's exquisite. It's so clear now, that all those fakes, the painstaking hours of recreation, simply did not live up to the real deal, and not just the view, everything is magnitudes superior.
You smooth your palm between her thighs and you part them, pulling her ass to the edge, sliding her legs open, watching as her wetness shines. "Just how badly do you want me?" you ask her.
"Look at me, how can you say something like that? Of course, I fucking want you. I hate having to wait. Come and fuck me."
You guide your cock to sit between her cheeks and rock into it gently, enjoying how those perky cheeks cradle your length and the way her whole body rocks with every movement. "Is it wrong that I love watching you squirm?" you ask, running the palm of your hand over the bare skin, digging your fingers in, grasping a handful and appreciating how it yields under your fingertips.
"Only wrong if I mind, and I don't," Miyeon groans, lifting her hips against you and smothering your dick in her deliciously juicy flesh. She is irresistible. "So what are you waiting for," her voice soft and suggestive. "Go on, you know you want to. You know how much I need it."
You grit your teeth and trace her lips with the tip of your cock, and it's like lightning flashing between you both. Fuck. Her lips are so wet and hot—they're so tantalisingly puffy. She wiggles and gyrates against you as you rest inside her opening. She groans and you're shuddering.
You slide the first few inches and gasp. You both moan softly together as you glide in, she's so much tighter than you had imagined she might feel—every inch that slides inside makes her clench you more.
"Yes," Miyeon is urgent and breathy, her muscles are contracting as though attempting to swallow your entire length. And she's hungry for it. "That's it baby, nice and deep," her words as electrifying as the sensation of her snug walls quivering as she clings on with greed.
"Like this?" you whisper in her ear as you lean over and pin her petite frame against the metal, letting her feel you, all of you. Every inch. And as she moans and shivers under the weight of your body. Your hands reach her shoulders and your fingertips find her neck, circling and caressing and massaging in all the right places—she turns her head as far round as she's able to gaze at you as she hums and gasps with each rolling movement of your hips.
Her teeth biting her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed pink, a complete dream in motion. Her body arches as she urges and wills herself back on you. You groan in return. Everything about her feels unreal in its perfection. She's squeezing against your cock, and her most hidden recesses begin to melt for you.
Miyeon cums like this, and it's without warning. She tenses, her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open—her silky tunnel clamps tight as a vice grip. And the way she gushes all over you, covering you, she can barely breathe, she can barely let out a cry or a single noise, only ragged breathing as you hold her firmly in place and fuck her through it.
You fuck her without shame or inhibition. She whimpers, a feeble cry, every thrust powerful and deliberate. Miyeon moans what feels like your name and you give another forceful snap of your hips, both hands firmly on her slim and shaking waist. There are no words that can possibly encapsulate her.
"That's it," her breath erratic and shaky. She grinds her ass into you with every forward push, working into a perfect rhythm and going balls-deep with each pump. "Hard." You slam against her ass, the clapping sound of skin against skin—it fills the warm and humid air.
Miyeon cums again. So fucking easy to make her cum. Her beautiful brown eyes are desperate with desire. She shakes, she is panting, "Just like that, keep doing exactly that and I'll lose my damn mind. God, you feel so fucking big."
She's limp now, just taking rough, powerful and blissful strokes—her cries a series of hoarse grunts and weak moans.
You grab her by the waist, hard, she lets out a yelp, and then you're manhandling her, throwing her delicate figure over onto her back. There they are, those perfect little tits, grown red being forced against the metal of the car. Her soppy mess drips out from her thoroughly fucked hole.
"This, is all you wanted right?" You gather her legs and thrust them roughly up and over your shoulders, sliding easily back inside. Her pussy gushing and absolutely soaking. "A good rough fucking. You just love to be used don't you, baby. This is the side of you I've been missing, seeing how you have always been so prim and proper in front of everyone."
"That was your problem, all those homemade VirtueXs made me all commanding when I really just love to be taken." Her breaths are ragged.
"Maybe that's just how I'll be selling you in future then," you say.
She gives a throaty chuckle. "Do whatever the fuck you want, but for now," Miyeon takes a tight hold of her knees, and draws them against her chest. "Make me cum again, please."
You have her absolutely filled with every inch of cock and stretched tight with every savage drive of your hips, again, and again, and again. Sweat forms a light film over every curve and groove of her form. She's gorgeous, she's taking it, and she's loving it. "Let me feel you cum," she breathes between pumps and thrusts, her fingers kneading the flesh of her thighs as she spreads herself as open as is physically possible.
A combination of pressure and adrenaline, you're hammering deep. Miyeon is groaning and pleading. A loud moan, a series of short sharp exhales and whimpers. Those narrow hips are trembling, her slim thighs shake, toes are curled. Her orgasm and invitation for you to join her come as a surge.
You explode. Locked, sheathed so deep and full, you fill her. "Cum so much..." Miyeon sighs in awe. Your climax is euphoria.
Both a sweating, quaking mass of interlocked limbs, you pull away and your drenched cock slips out. "How are you real," you exhale. "Never felt anything like you."
"I am one of a kind." Miyeon laughs gently to herself. "Now let's get back in there and you can fuck me some more."
You're in the backseat now, Miyeon's slender body climbing all over you. She leans in and takes your lips, her sticky lip gloss and the sweet taste of her mouth as she invades with her tongue and leads yours into a frenzy. Her fingertips drag down across your chest. She's positioning herself over your cock.
The beauty of simulation is there's no recovery, only the chasing of the next orgasm, and she's keen to provide the means. She takes you with her eyes closed, a small, grateful moan and she slides herself slowly up and down. Your head arches back with a cry as she holds onto your shoulders and glides her lips down over your shaft.
"Gonna ride you," she whispers as she rocks herself in time with the rise and fall of your breaths. "Ride you until you explode again." Your fingertips squeeze into the supple curves and muscles of her torso.
It is a euphoric ecstasy. Miyeon looks perfect riding a dick. She sinks down low, grinding back and forth. She moves like waves, her hair stuck against her cheek. You take hold and move the strands out of the way, before trailing down the bare skin of her neck and to her tits, groping them firmly.
"Been so long since I last got to do this. Missed how big you are." She grasps the headrest as the speed and intensity of her motions increase. "Yeah, that's it, baby."
Her eyes flutter and her head starts to fall further and further back. Erratic, out of control, wild—she starts slamming her ass down hard. Fucked-slack and oozing, her juices dripping down. She's growing quiet and you watch her expression transform, her eyes turn glassy. You watch her face strain in her pleasure, it's a wonderful sight—pure bliss. Then she erupts into moans as her body convulses and spasms, and all you can do is hold her steady, her hole throbbing tight around you. She gasps, desperate for oxygen, every fibre and nerve singing in harmony.
From one, right into chasing the next, Miyeon lifts herself, turns, presents her ass to you and sits back on your cock. You watch it slip up between her cheeks and disappear inside her cunt once more, she hums a content sigh and leans forward. Miyeon braces herself against the window of the car, looking over her shoulder as she moves.
Her groin rocks and grinds on your shaft in a rolling motion and it's heaven itself. That cute, perky ass smacks on your groin in a sensual motion. Her hand snakes between her legs. Her moans grow in strength and volume. Wet, slippery, soft, Miyeon's fucking you and riding herself to her own orgasm. She starts to tremble. You start to tremble. She's squirming wildly, desperate for her climax, that gorgeous cunt squeezing every inch and driving you crazy.
And you lose it. Another intense explosion that makes you clasp onto her ass and hold it steady. A groan rips through your entire body, and you empty everything you have. She cums the instant she feels the heat spread through her. A unified orgasm. Pure heavenly relief. The energy seems to drift into the air and the car rattles beneath you both. It is incredible. The euphoria is otherworldly.
"Tell me that was good," she asks softly.
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"Again. Again. Please, one more time?"
"It's your head, sweetie. Have at it."
"Hmm, I suppose it is. Then I want to sit on you, and I want it in my ass." Miyeon giggles and slips herself off you, a mixture of your cum and hers falling down her thighs.
"Whatever the fuck you want," you groan, delirious as Miyeon pulls you up to the seat and then takes her place on your lap, she spread her legs out over yours and you take her hips, guiding her ass onto your cum-soaked cock. Everything is a fucking blur but the sensations are turned up to eleven, and there is nothing else that is comparable.
You plant kisses on her hot, sweaty back as you slide her down onto your length. She's twitching, and squirming. You hear her let out a soft gasp of delight at the invasion. The tightness, the constricting squeeze is just...
"Oh yes..." Miyeon breathes softly. "Let me... let me do the work now, let me fuck this big hard dick with my tight ass." She circles her hips, drawing on your cock with a slow, tight, merciless motion. Your world starts spinning all over again. She's slick with sweat, her cheeks grinding on your thighs, the scent and the sex drives you fucking wild. "What a perfect dick. I could do this all day."
You lean your head forward, and sink your teeth into the muscle of her shoulder—a flurry of loud moans from Miyeon as she bounces on your shaft. The sloppy sounds, the music of her pleasures, the clapping slap, it's insane and exhilarating. You lick her sweat from her flesh, tasting her.
She's slick and stretched, clamping around your cock as her pace quickens and turns ragged and urgent. It's a whole other level, it's unparalleled and all-consuming. You're just about ready to blow inside her ass.
"Hold onto me," She pants, grasping your left wrist and bringing it over to her mouth, placing your fingertips upon her tongue and sucking. It is lewd and erotic and exciting and your insides begin to churn and ache.
There's no stopping you now, you erupt again, gripping her waist as your hips buck up on instinct, jamming yourself deep and blowing. Miyeon moans around your fingertips—taking your load while still rubbing her swollen little clit.
"Yes, I love it when I make you cum like that," she murmurs, sliding herself slowly off your half-mast cock and crawling off your lap. She throws herself down on the seat in a heap, peering down at the thick mess of cum dripping out of her freshly fucked orifices, a dazed smile, satiated.
You blink and try to get her into focus but it's to no use—she blurs and vanishes before your eyes. And soon, you're back. Your workshop, in your chair, and still hooked into Miyeon. Still sitting back-to-back, your foreheads damp, breathing hard and ragged. The lights flickering a bright electric blue.
"Incredible," you breathe.
Miyeon sighs. "Yeah..." She detaches the link from behind her ear. Miyeon climbs to her feet, shakily making her way around your workspace. "I'm such a mess," She says, touching under her dress.
"Fuck, yeah me too," you sit there trying to process what just happened.
"I want a copy. The whole thing." Miyeon places a card down on the desk.
"I'll get started."
#kinktember#kpop smut#Miyeon smut#gidle smut#kpop fanfic#male reader#m reader#smut#Miyeon x reader#Cho Miyeon smut#(g)i dle smut
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I RE-DO | JJK
18+ minors DNI
ONESHOT.
synopsis: Young love is so sweet, but people never realize how foolish it can be (sometimes), especially for you and Jungkook. You and Jungkook were the typical high school sweethearts, and after school, you thought you were grown enough to get married. Your families disagreed, but you still went through with it. It was fine for the first year; you were still in the honeymoon phase. But soon, reality caught up, and you both had to go to university. You attended the same university, thinking it would make things easier. Many obstacles came your way, but you were still going strong, afraid of proving your family right. However, after two years of unhappiness, you both called it quits. Unfortunately, your relationship ended on a sour note, and the man you once loved turned into someone you never wanted to see again. So, what happens now, when you face him one more time after many years of being away from him.
playlist: Lewis Capaldi - Before You Go, Lewis Capaldi - Someone You Loved, Sia - Bird Set Free. Billie Eilish - wildflower, The weeknd - out of time
Ex husband Jungkook x ex-wife reader.
Lovers to I-don’t-like-you to strangers.
WC: 24.k [whoa.]
Warnings: <heavy?> ANGST, ANGST, ANGST. flashbacks (light), disagreements, young marriage, Jungkook is a lawyer, reader is a doctor. No accurate description of law or reality. crying, lol. very much angsty of angst. forgive any errors you encounter; it is revised but oh gosh there's only so much I can notice.
a/n: you might hate me for this one lol. but it is what it is.
As you walk into the room, you’re taken aback by the figure of the man you see. He's the last person you expected. it's been a while since you've seen him, a very long one at that.
The last time you saw him was well...
When you were with Jungkook.
Taehyung hadn't noticed you when you walked in. Your mask and scrubs doing a perfect job at hiding your identity. You wonder if he'd remember you. He surely would, it’s not like a million years have gone by.
and though he hasn't noticed you yet, you do notice him. The thing that catches your eye is how he's definitely grown out of his teenage face. His features are more chiseled. It suits him. Makes him look more matured.
A lot seems to have changed: he's married and now having a baby. Taehyung having a baby? You and Jungkook would've never thought. The local party boy settling down and starting a family, that's news.
You've grown to understand that people change though, you yourself as an example. You were kind of the typical party girl in your college days. Nothing too crazy though but you definitely enjoyed your liquor and music. Now you've changed and grown more reserved. Did you plan on it? No, it just happened, and you grew out of that life for some reason.
It's lost to you how Taehyung underwent his metamorphosis. Whether he wanted to or just like you "just happened", has you wondering. Your brain doesn't bother you too much about it.
But one thing your mind keeps on loop is if Jungkook has changed too and if so, how much? Did he ever grow to realize and reflect on himself.
You soon brush the thoughts away though. The last thing you should be thinking about is Jungkook, when you've got a job to do.
Sounds of relief and of a baby's cry soon fill the room. The noise helps you block further thoughts you want or should be thinking.
But still, it seems your brain doesn't work hard enough. Hence, leading you to wonder if this would've been you and Jungkook. Would it have been you doing the skin to skin with a baby you grew for 9 months with the man you love by your side for support. Could it have been Jungkook instead being handed the scissors to cut the umbilical cord. His usual bunny smile and doe eyes staring down at the baby. And his hands shaking cause of how nervous he'd be. he never liked to mess up.
"Look yn, you did it. I'm so proud of you baby." he would coo, those doe eyes staring right into you with pure love and joy. "Oh! Not you baby. I'm talking to your mother. How am I going to call both of you baby." He would say and laugh at his own joke afterwards. You would too, his jokes were so cheesy and cute. You loved them still though. you'd always wanted a family with him.
You were a fool to think you'd stop thinking about all that could've been. It pisses you off. You thought by now, passed all these years and some relationships it would stop. But it never did and seeing Taehyung only reminds you of everything you've been trying to forget.
"Yn." Your senior doctor called you out of your thoughts. "Do a checkup on the Kim baby for me, I have another job." You nod and walk around to pick up the necessary paperwork.
You loved your job. Seeing life being brought into the world. The smile on the families faces and the happy couples. Even holding the little babies was so heartwarming.
But there are downsides to the job, many than you'd like to say. The tears the yelling, the disappointment. The losses, your biggest fears.
It broke your heart to see a woman push hard only for life to go as soon as it came. You never cried in front of the families; you had to be strong. But you always did at home. You cried for many things. All the lives that could've been or how your life could've been. All things that might have been if you chose differently. Sometimes you'd get lost and end up crying about a dead fish you lost when you were 10. You didn't mind as long as you were crying and getting things off your chest.
Even through your own turmoil you were always there for the families: to give a warm presence. You did all you were allowed. Some others would appreciate the comfort, but some would yell curses at you. You didn't blame them, emotions are high. It's part of the job.
A thick skin.
You've grown it over the years. Whether it's from your own parents, Jungkook's parents or Jungkook himself. You've learnt how to cover up. It's not a good way of living but it's got you through most of the things in your life.
You're grown now. And you pat yourself on the back for what you went through. You were able to make it out and be where you want to be, even through the confusion of life and relationships.
You love your job, and you'd never change it, but it's so easy to feel empty and lonely. Whatever it is you're missing you don't know. But you can definitely feel an emptiness in you.
"Mr. and Mrs. Kim, I'm here to check up on you and the baby." You say walking in and deciding to address them formally. Clipboard in hand and mask forgotten.
It took him a second, then two, then three to recognize that voice. Then when he stared long enough it dawned on him.
"Yn?" Taehyung says dumbstruck. He was sat by his wife talking, while the baby slept, but as soon as he recognized you, he was on his feet.
You never thought he'd recognize you. but you assume you haven't changed that much, or Taehyung just knows you too well. He was your friend too. And it did crush you when you didn't talk to him or ignored him over these years.
"Taehyung." you say trying keep it professional but still acknowledging how you're just as pleased see to him.
"Yn!" you hear him call out in a faux sob. And soon like lightning you feel him crash you with his arms. He squeezes you so tight you might burst.
"I've missed you! why did you leave me?" You can hear sadness in his voice. It hurts your heart. You never meant to ditch him too, but it was difficult to stay friends when you knew where he was Jungkook would be too.
You rub his back in a way to reciprocate the hug as much as you can. He holds you so tight that you can barely move, and you're about to turn blue.
Turning your eyes to his wife, you beg for a hand.
"Tae, you're going to break our baby's doctor." She lectures him and with a final squeeze he lets you go. She's heard of you from what Taehyung has mentioned but not in great detail. Only when he's explaining a funny story that you might have been involved in, and her curiosity grew.
You all laugh as he lets you go, and you collect your breath.
"I'm sorry." His wife apologizes with her sweet voice before she sends a glare to her husband. You shake your head, understanding that Taehyung might have not grown as much as you thought. He's still got that hyper personality of his.
he pouts and turns back to you.
"Yn." He whines and you flinch thinking he'll hug you again. He doesn't.
"Taehyung how have you been?" You say still professional and calmed down. You're excited to see him and just as happy, but it's just difficult for you to adjust after not seeing him for so long.
"Is that all you can say? And why are you so professional?" He whines, and you chuckle at how he's still so childish.
"I'm a doctor, Taehyung. I can't be jumping around like a monkey." You say, clutching your clipboard to your chest.
His wife chuckles and says something about him not maturing yet. You of all people are aware of how childish he can be.
And like for the first time Taehyung takes in your outfit and gasps. "Shit yn you did it." He says with a smile "Doc yn." He teases.
"Don't tease me." you blush.
"I'm so proud of you though. I always thought you'd been kidding about the doctor thing." He rubs the back of his neck feeling embarrassed about doubting you. But you don't take offence as you show him your smile.
"I was very serious as you can see."
You both just chuckle.
"So, we're you...l-like in here too."
"Yeah, I think she was, I saw you right? Docter's assistant, right?" His wife asks.
You nod in affirmation.
Taehyung mentally slaps himself. How could he have not noticed. He feels so stupid right now.
"I'm so glad you delivered my baby." he says with a proud smile.
"Well, I didn-"
"Shut up you did deliver my baby." He slaps down your statement. "No, but like seriously, of all people in the world I'm glad you were the one to do."
You bow smiling, appreciating his words. Doing this feels like apologizing for ditching him. And hearing him say that makes you love you job even more.
"Waaah, look at how professional she is now." He mocks as he turns to his wife to tell her how you were such a brat and party girl. You deny the allegation even though they are true cause you don't want to ruin his wife's perception of you.
You've changed anyways so doesn't matter anymore.
"Don't worry we were all party girls once at least." She says and you can't help but appreciate how kind and sweet she seems. You haven't been introduced to her. But you find it unnecessary when you remember why you actually came here.
"I came to check on you and the baby." You say turning on professional mode which was never off.
You walk over to the baby, who was still sound asleep. Cute.
They all nod, letting you do your thing.
"Tell me yn.." Taehyung says when he's now sat by his wife. "Who does she look like?" He wants to settle the debate they've been having.
"Just be honest."
You turn to analyze the baby you were already scanning. You couldn't help but notice a little bit of Taehyung but when you stare longer you start to see more of his wife.
"I think she shares both of your features quite well." You speak.
Taehyung whines disappointed in your answer.
"She's just being professional, we should ask her when we go for dinner."
Dinner? when did you say you'd be going for dinner. You ignore it.
They talk and you smile at how they tease each other and are happy together. These are always your favorite kind of days.
"What time is Jungkook coming?" His wife whispers to Taehyung, but you're still able to catch on.
Jungkook's coming here? He's going to be here. The hell. You should've expected it, maybe you would've asked someone else to be here instead. But when you think about it you realize how inevitable it was, plus you got to reunite(?) with Taehyung. You doubt you'll see each other after this.
"He should be here soon." Your heart races and throat dries up for whatever emotion your body will not communicate to you.
Fuck. you still have more tests to run, and you haven't even begun with the mother.
You take a deep breath as the baby stirs but still stays calm. You're focused on the baby as you set her back into the hospital crib. The hospital you worked at was a really high-end one. Well, at least the part that Taehyung had picked out. He must be doing well for himself cause these ends are quite expensive.
He's a finance bro, studied finance and got a good job. So, he's differently doing well.
You wonder how Jungkook's doing, is he doing well...
"Look who's a dad."
You hear a knock, then the familiar voice follows. Your heart freezes and so does your whole body.
"Shh." Taehyung lectures him pointing to your direction. "There's a baby"
Jungkook follows his friend's eyes, to you. But he doesn't realize it's you, and you're glad for that. You wish you could just slip out right now.
But why are you the one anxious, he should be the one trembling right now. Not you.
"Can I see her?" He coos and Taehyung nods.
"She's getting a check up though." Taehyung adds as Jungkook walks to you and your heart grows tighter as his steps grow closer. but you choose to stand firm in your spot.
The heels of his shoes tap against the floor and regrets wearing them. But he just came here from the office so he can't be blamed.
"I'm sure it's fine, right doctor?" He says with charm in his voice.
His voice awakens so many things in you. Anger, hate, insecurity, doubt, memory, yearn, search. But mainly anger. Anger at all that still left you burnt and bruised. All the stupid mistakes of your youth that you were warned about and could have avoided.
"I'd advise you wash your hands first." You turn to look at him eyes bland of any visible emotion.
Professional, yn be professional.
"Yn?" He says shocked and smile dropped from its previous spot. He heard your voice before getting to see your face. And if his memory serves him right...he is right. He can't be wrong.
His heart's as far as the sea goes. Nothing and everything go through his mind.
You don’t give him a response.
"Please wash your hands and sanitize if you decide to be close to the baby." No warmth in your voice or room for conversation. Everyone in the room can feel the tension and Jungkook is still shocked to see you, eyes and hands unmoving. He can't figure what he's feeling or thinking, he just...
Never expected to see you here. It's almost like a slap to his face, like the last time he saw you. And at the memory of the day, bitterness and anger sink in him.
You walk past him leaving a cold breeze for him to relish in.
You try to plaster a smile when you see the tension you caused. "Now it's your turn." You say to Taehyung's wife as you begin her checkup.
You're really trying your best to keep it cool, but you can feel the acid by your throat burn.
Jungkook just clears his throat and goes to the sink and washes his hands. Mind lost of any thoughts, but choosing to ignore them as usual.
"So, I'm and uncle huh?" He says trying to clear himself of the tightness in his chest. Even though his voice doesn't sound as confident as before, he's just going to ignore it.
Ignore you.
"She's so cute, she's looks like you Tae." He declares caressing her cheek with his index.
Taehyung cheers and his wife rolls her eyes.
"Can you imagine, yn said she shares both our features."
And the reminder that you're Actually here and not a nightmare is set for Jungkook to relish in.
"Docter's always right Taehyung, you should listen." You don't know whether he's being serious or sarcastic, but you could care less. All you want is to be out of here and away from him.
You want to scoff but choose to suck it in and ignore the remark or whatever it meant.
Taehyung shrugs, deciding to let it go. It didn't matter who the baby looked like. It's all light-hearted. He's just happy that both his wife and the baby are okay.
Taehyung does realize the tension, which cause him to somewhat do things deliberately. He wanted to out loud comment on it but he's just going to let fate do its thing instead.
Once he saw you, he knew you'd have to meet Jungkook. It honestly makes him happy. Even though you're ignoring each other.
"Everything's good, so I'll be taking my leave now." you say. Everyone nods and acknowledges giving you little thanks Yous as you grab your stuff. Only Taehyung and his wife. You managed to ignore him and avoid him and all you have to do now is leave.
But as you're walking out a voice speaks.
"Yn, can we get some water?" Jungkook says, voice certain and eyes lowered at you.
He's just trying to get a rise at you yn, walk away. You try to calm yourself. There's so much bottled that you only realized today. You'd thought your anger died long ago but you guess not.
His statement is simple and not that deep but it's the way he says it and how your name has so much weight to it as he speaks it. Makes you irritated. How he's always made you stretch your neck out for him, but he never did for you.
"It's doctor. And about the water? That's not my job." You say your professional demeanor dropping so you can deliver it with more attitude. He knows it's not your job; he just wanted to say and see that look your face.
Why he did it? He doesn't have a reason but just wanted to (maybe) release the tightness in his chest. It doesn't leave anyways.
Fucking piss of shit.
"We should get married."
You stare at the goofball in front of you a smile forming on your face as you watch him speak.
"What?" You chuckle and he frowns at how unserious you're taking him.
"I'm serious yn, I want to marry you." He holds your hand. "We can get married, we're 19 and we're going to uni soon."
He watches how your face contorts at his suggestion.
"Do you not want to marry me?" He lifts his brow, and you groan.
"I do want to..." you start and as he waits to hear your but "...but..." and there it is "Don't you think we're a little too young for that?"
"We're old enough and plus what matters is that we love each other." he holds you closer to him under the tree you two adored to use to hide from the world.
"We'll get married, go to college together and when we can, get a house and live together."
You loved the sound of that, married to Jungkook and living with him as you went to school and back home to each other. Of course you wanted that life with him, but there's a lot you're scared of,
"And our parents?" You ask worried.
He rubs your shoulder.
"Who cares what they think, I love you and I want to marry you." you blush and lean in closer into him feeling his heartbeat under your palm. You loved being with him, alone and away from the world and that's what you hoped marriage will do for the two of you. Keep your love protected from the world.
"So?" He asked and you knew what you were required to do. "Will you marry me yn?"
You stay silent to tease him and when he tickles you for an answer, you agree to answer.
"Yes Jungkook I'll marry you."
He smiles at your answer and places a kiss on your cheek holding you closer to him.
"I'll always love you yn, not matter what okay?" He squeezes his face into yours.
"Okay?" He's voice is muffled against your cheek as you giggle.
"Okay, Jungkook, okay." your laughter dies down as he stops to place a kiss on your cheek.
You hated this. No. You hated him.
What's he so full of that he can come here and try to be sarcastic with you. In your territory. You'll give it to him that he didn't know you'd be here but to be fair that's not an excuse to be an ass. You'd thought maybe he'd changed.
But no, he's still shitty and condescending as fuck.
You're glad you divorced him, and you're glad to know that you still hate his face. His stupid face. The stupid face that has grown into its masculine and manly features.
You hate that you even noticed that.
"Yn you good? "
"Huh?" You say still brain fogged "Yeah I'm good, just tired." You smile awkwardly and Rosie knows it's a lie. She sits next to you on the break-room bench.
"You sure? " She asks and you nod, not trusting your voice to speak.
"I don't believe you."
"Then don't." You say coming out a little too harsh, you're not mad at her so you apologize for the attitude. You're still set off from the interaction with Jungkook. It was barely an interaction cause you two were avoiding each other like two ships at sea. But the tension and the way you avoided each other's space said a lot.
"Tell me yn." She whines in her bratty voice. "We've been friends since high school, why not tell me."
You sigh. You two have been friends for some time. She's been there for you and Jungkook's first date and your divorce. Damn it you did years of medicine together, so why hide from her. Plus, you know she won't stop bugging till you tell her.
"Jungkook's back." You probably shouldn't have phrased it like that. He's not back, you just happened to meet him while another old friend had a child.
"Taehyung had a baby and they have a delivery room upstairs and I bumped into him." You elaborate.
"Taehyung had a kid?" You deadpan her at how that's the only thing she heard. "Okay, okay" she raises her hands in defence. "So, you just saw him, you didn't talk?"
"No." you never really talked so you wouldn't phrase it as that.
"Then what's wrong darling." She wraps her arms around you and brings her face to yours.
You explain to her what he said and why it pissed you off.
"I'm just kinda pissed off. " You sigh and lean into her.
"He's a dick don't mind him. He's probably miserable and trying to bring you down after seeing you living out your dreams." She tries to comfort you.
You shake your head. "I don't know he looks good-he looks well I mean," you correct yourself. "Plus, Taehyung's in the private suite so I doubt they are anything close to broke."
Rosie doesn't know what to say now, she's not surprised. But you look disturbed and she wants to help.
"You know what? it doesn't even matter." she goes quiet. "You know what? we should go for drinks on the weekend."
Normally, you'd say no. But it's been while since you went out and the weekend was coming and you were weirdly free through all of it. So it wouldn't hurt to go out.
"Okay." Rosie's taken aback by your lack of reluctance. She prepared a whole speech to convince you encase you said no.
"Which bar? " You ask curious.
"Satin."
"Isn't it just opening up?" You stare with a questioning look. The opening of satin was all that was being talked about amongst your friends. So, you'd eventually end up curious and want to go there. it wasn't your plan to go on the first day though.
"Yeah makes it much better to find some rich bachelor." she whispers. "This doctor/residence job isn’t gonna pay for my new car."
You roll your eyes and chuckle at her amusement. She honestly makes you happy and able to forget everything that makes you feel like shit. It's her bright and bubbly characteristic that you envy and seem to lack.
"So, you and yn?" Taehyung asks as he does his warmups. Jungkook laughs at how Taehyung has been warming up for so long. He knows he's probably avoiding real gym work.
"What about me and her?" Jungkook says as he puts on his boxing gloves, trying his best to keep the conversation short.
He's not surprised he's bringing this up, he actually prepped himself for it.
"Still awkward?" Tae bends and stretches. Jungkook points for him to quit it and grab some gloves. He groans and grabs a pair. He should honestly be making most of the time he's got to be in a gym because he won't be here often.
"It's been over 4 years since we talked of course it's awkward." Jungkook sends some practice punches into the air. He needs to quicken this conversation with Taehyung. He knows what he's doing, and he knew it was going to happen as soon as he left the hospital, he was just waiting for when.
"Why not talk it out?" Jungkook almost snorts out at how stupid this conversation is.
Taehyung feels a gush of wind pass his face as Jungkook deliberately missed his face. Whether it's to shut him up, get him ready to work out or just for the fun of it, he doesn’t know. Taehyung doesn't know but Jungkook now options to hit him. He uses his arms to protect himself from the man too focused on working out than the conversation.
"We never talked it out when we divorced, so why should we now." He speaks so lightly of the situation, no emotion or care for it. "We have no relationship." He spits out as he throws a punch that Taehyung dodges.
"Bullshit. You and yn are goals" Taehyung pauses "were goals at least, before whatever the fuck happened."
Jungkook chuckles but it's not anything from genuine amusement or from the good memories you two shared.
"Don't laugh, I'm serious. You need to talk to her and get this shit sorted." Taehyung groans ad he blocks more of his blows. They grow more intense. "I hate being in between you two." Taehyung throws a punch of his own, when Jungkook is slow. "Pity me a child of divorced parents. Imagine how this has traumatized me." Taehyung is quick to his feet to throw a punch and Jungkook is the one to block it.
"Too bad. But you look fine to me, a kid, a wife and a good paying job." Jungkook takes back his dominance.
He's happy for Taehyung, but to say he isn't a little jealous is a..
"And what about you? " Jungkook loses his focus for a second and Taehyung lands a low blow in his gut.
He groans and fixes his footing and gloves as he tries to one-up Taehyung.
"I've got a good paying job. That's all I need." he says bluntly trying to focus on a free spot to throw a blow.
"Lies. Look the universe has brought you two back together, talk it out with yn."
Bang. Jungkook smacks Taehyung in the side of his face. To be fair that felt quite personal and he slightly feels bad for hitting him. He doesn't want him to go home and see his kid while he's all bloody.
But that's what he gets for bringing you up as a topic to talk about. After all these years, like he cares.
He doesn't care. Still, it's not like seeing you doesn't make him feel some sort of way. He feels something. Definitely some type of bitterness, anger and emptiness.
"No. Plus it's been 4 years. Far too long to 'talk it out'. " He air quotes with his gloves on. "And it's not just a small problem, we went through the wringer and failed.” Jungkook uses rapid movements to stop his thoughts. “So even if we talked it out what would it change, we can't be friends anymore. Or lovers at that." He scoffs at the thought.
Taehyung jumps back indicating he wants to stop and focus on the topic. Jungkook groans and rolls his eyes.
Taehyung doesn't care, he'll press on. He knows Jungkook likes to avoid and that's why he'll keep bringing it up.
"Closure, Jungkook closureeeee!" Taehyung empathizes.
Jungkook chuckles. "She divorced me, that's my closure. I signed the papers, that's her closure." He won't lie but he could feel how harsh and insensitive his words sound as they left his mouth. But it's too late to take them back. At least you weren't here to hear them.
"Oh, come on, don't be so stiff hearted." he takes off his gloves getting kind of irritated at his friend for being so reckless and not doing what he should've done years ago.
Fight for you. Make you want to stay. Change and be better. Or whatever.
As a witness Taehyung knows what Jungkook and you had can never be replaced. And even though Jungkook has tried he's just miserable though he says otherwise. But he's just so stubborn.
"Well maybe if she wasn't so stiff minded, we would've been the ones with the kid, maybe even two with a dog even." he says chugging down a bottle of water trying cool his racing heart that races from the exercise and not the thought of starting a family with you. The thoughts have always haunted him. And they've now been revived even more and it's irritating.
"See? Talk it out. " Taehyung says feeling like he's found a weak spot.
"Fuck off. Its never gonna happen. I'm just talking out of my ass." Taehyung knows he's lying; he's always known Jungkook to want a family and the only person he knew that he'd want that was with you. He knows it's hard to reignite something from years ago, but it's never too late to try.
"More like heart" Taehyung whispers and Jungkook sends him a dead-behind -the-eyes gaze.
You had forgotten how much you enjoyed dressing up and going out with your friends. From marriage, to school, to work you've really lost some parts of yourself. You still love and appreciate it all in the good and bad, but you still wish you could have some of your college ways back.
The mini dresses, heels, makeup and hair done. Just reminds you of how attractive you are.
You laugh.
Even through all these efforts you're finding hard to put yourself out there into the dating world. It's all tiring, from the men to the dates, to the kissing and touching that never satisfies. It’s just not the same anymore. Nothing feels good and you hate to admit it.
You decided to go dressed casual but still making an effort.
"Oh my gosh girl, switch bodies with me." Rosie whines as she cheers you on in your outfit. She's dressed in a tiny black skirt and red lace top; she looks so good and you're sure she's gonna leave you alone the whole night.
Rosie always looks good in what she wears, and you admire how confident she manages to be. you wish that for yourself right now.
You do love to dress up. But like most things, you've lost a touch for looking good. Most of your times you're either in your scrubs or in comfy home clothes you wear when you never see the light of day.
But for tonight you make an effort to connect into your inner party girl.
The black, mid-thigh, bodycon dress hugs your figure as its long sleeves hug your arms. Rosie’s favorite part of the dress; the low bare back cut.
You were feeling a little self-conscious about it but when Rosie told you looked hot and you'd definitely catch everyone's eye., you decide to say fuck it and go on.
That's the point of tonight, right? To let go and forget.
"I think it's so fucking cool that Jimin opened a nightclub," Namjoon says, sitting at the back of the car.
"It's quite Jimin of him," Taehyung and Namjoon laugh.
And like a saint, Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
"How about you?" They all turn to Jungkook.
Jungkook finally speaks when he realizes he's being talked to. "What about me?" He speaks as though he wasn't paying attention to the conversation.
"What do you think about Jimin opening a club?"
Jungkook shifts in his seat for no specific reason. "It's cool, I guess."
"Cool?" Namjoon exclaims at how boring and plain his answer sounds. "Come on."
"What?" Jungkook defends himself. "I mean, it's cool, and I'm proud of him. What else do you want me to say?" He leans back into the car seat, finally getting comfortable, but his mind is still so far away.
Taehyung and Namjoon furrow their brows at Jungkook’s tone but soon brush away his lack of excitement or interest. In his defence, he was with Jimin during every step of buying and furnishing the club, so it's not as exciting for him. Only Jungkook had been in on it because he helped Jimin with the legal side of it all. So maybe that's why he's not so excited.
Or maybe it's because of the fact that he's never been one to be a club-goer. It's not that he doesn't enjoy it when he gets the chance, but it's never been for him. You were always the club-goer in the relationship, and you'd always drag him to go. And because you were with him, he would go and enjoy his time. It's all different now.
Clubs feel weird; they hold memories and empty feelings.
"Try to enjoy tonight, okay?" Taehyung pats Jungkook’s back.
He doesn't get the gesture but takes it anyway. Taehyung knows his friend isn't being himself right now, and he's got his suspicions about the cause. But he won't bug him; he’s already done his part.
They walk into the club and soon are met with their blond-haired friend, who excuses himself from the previous conversation to walk over to them.
Hugs and greetings are shared.
"Congratulations, bro! This place is beautiful."
Jimin's proud of how well this place turned out. It's his newfound pride and joy.
The place is a typical high-end nightclub, with the best music, drinks, and food. The decor and ambiance fit Jimin's fantasies to a tee.
"Yeah, all thanks to Kookie boy over here, I was able to buy and renovate it with no trouble." Jimin turns to Jungkook, who seems lost in staring at the place.
The club isn't too crowded; they got there early to look around and talk to Jimin because they knew he'd be busy the rest of the night.
"Ya! Jungkook, are you with us?" Jimin calls him out.
He turns to where he's being called as he blinks. "Y-yeah, I'm here."
They all choose to ignore it, knowing that he can be distant sometimes.
"You guys grab some drinks; I have some people to talk to." Jimin excuses himself, and they know the only time they're going to see him is when the night ends.
Jungkook is the first one to walk off and grab himself a drink; he's going to need it.
You and Rosie planned on going early, but because of traffic and your delay in getting ready, you were two hours late after the opening. You knew it would be packed since it was the grand opening, but shockingly, it was not as crowded as you expected. There was room to move and walk around. Most people were so well-dressed that you'd think this was a gala instead and that you were underdressed. But no matter what, you still felt out of place.
You looked good and felt good, but there’s only so much you can do to make yourself comfortable.
Rosie scoped the place, and when she spotted the bar, she pulled your hand toward it.
"First, we drink," she said, more excited than you. She ordered the drinks, and soon you were handed one.
As you sipped, you felt eyes on you. You'd felt them since you walked in; whether you minded it or not, you didn't know yet. You still felt like a sore thumb, but after this drink, you were sure you'd settle into the scene.
"So many hot men. Damn," Rosie muttered to herself, but you were still able to catch what she said. You chuckled, happy that she was settling in. She was so good at it.
Soon, you were on your third drink—nothing crazy. You weren't trying to get blacked out, but you were definitely feeling a little more settled in.
Rosie left a few minutes ago to talk to some people or whatever. And even though she offered, you declined to go along with her. You weren't up to meeting strangers tonight. You just wanted to enjoy yourself, by yourself. So, you sat by the bar and enjoyed the music.
"You enjoying the night?"
A voice from your left spoke. You took a minute to respond, debating whether the man was speaking to you.
You turned and took in his appearance: blond hair swooped back, making him look clean and professional, and a suit that fit his physique perfectly.
"Yeah," you chuckled, not sounding convincing and not trying to keep the conversation going.
The man seemed to want to continue talking, though, and honestly, you didn't know if you were interested in conversing with him. He didn't seem like a creep, but you could never know with men.
The silence consumed you (excluding the club music), and his presence lingered by your side.
A glass slid in front of you as you looked to the bartender, who then directed you to the man sitting next to you.
"It's on the house." He stared at you with a warm, cheeky smile, and you stared back with a suspicious one.
You took the glass into your hands and brought it to your lips. Might as well make the most of the interaction if he wasn't going to leave. "You say that like you own the place," you chuckled as the liquid slid down your throat. You couldn't help but cringe at how strong it tasted.
The blond stayed silent and watched you, waiting for you to catch on.
"Wait... are you actually the owner?" you paused.
You watched a slow smile form on his lips. He nodded.
You squinted. "Or are you just saying that to try and flirt?" You kept your eyes narrowed.
"The last thing I'd do is lie."
You wouldn't say you were surprised, because now that you looked at him, he fit the picture of a high-end nightclub owner. Even the way he spoke—gently and respectfully—made you want to warm up to him.
But why was he talking to you? Didn't he have other things to do?
"Wow. That's cool. The place looks lovely." You took in the environment one more time. You'd never expect to meet the owner of the club, and you never thought he'd be so young. Older men were typically more likely to own such a place.
"It should, because I spent quite the penny on it." He chuckled, sipping his own drink. You took in his words. How much does such a place cost? Does he own it by himself, or does he have partners? You didn't want to ask, though; you just kept your eyes on him and shifted them elsewhere when he turned to look at you.
"Must feel good to see it so full, huh?"
"Yeah, but..." he paused, and you turned your body to give him your full attention. Finally. "My heart breaks when I see people sitting at the bar, looking like they're not enjoying their time."
You laughed and blushed, embarrassed, knowing that he was talking about you. Is that what you looked like to people? Like you were bored?
You laughed one more time before you decided to speak. "I am enjoying my time," you started, not sounding too convincing at all. "It’s just been a while since I've been out."
He nodded. "I get it. Busy with work?" It was a random question, and he debated with himself on whether to assume.
"Yeah," you laughed, thinking about work, and soon your thoughts drifted back to the man you met, and the bitterness sprang up again, but you hid it, not wanting to sour your mood. You downed the drink, maybe to burn away the feeling and thought, to erase the picture forming in your mind.
"Then you should let loose." He stood, holding out his hand for you.
"W-what?" You choked out with a smile.
"Come dance with me." He was charming; you wouldn't lie, and you were definitely charmed.
"No, I can't..." you laughed.
"You have a boyfriend?" He raised a brow, and you shook your head. "Husband?" You could feel the acid reflux come back up again. You shook your head once more, this time less enthusiastically.
"Then come dance with me. Please?" He held his hand out, waiting for your answer. "Make my night."
You didn't need much sweet-talking; you were going to say yes anyway, but he seemed like a nice guy, and he was attractive—very much so. It wouldn't hurt to dance with someone, even just once. This was your chance to catch up to Rosie’s streak tonight, though no one could compete.
"Okay," you said as you took his hand, which was warm to the touch. Your eyes moved down to his wrist as you noticed the Rolex that adorned it. You weren't a watch person, but that was definitely some high-class stuff.
"Thank you," he said with a smile as he placed an unexpected hand on your lower back. You didn't mind it, and you soon warmed up to it.
You danced for a few minutes, and you quickly forgot your reluctance, letting loose in his arms. He swiftly pulled you back into his chest as you swayed your hips.
"Look at you," he said, complimenting how you smiled and danced. "And you wanted to rot yourself at the bar."
You sheepishly laughed, not knowing what to add. It was definitely nice to get off the stool and dance, especially with someone who had shockingly made you comfortable.
"I didn't catch your name, love," he whispered in your ear as you held onto his shoulders. He felt stupid for going this long without getting your name, but better late than never, right?
"My name's Y/N. What's yours?"
He smiled as he leaned in closer.
"Jimin."
"Jimin? That's a pretty name."
Jimin chuckled. He'd take the compliment.
"Is it?" You nodded. Jimin got lost in your eyes, and you got lost in his as well. "Would you like me to show you around?"
"Like around the club?" You moved back to catch his gaze as he nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'd like that."
So you stepped off the dance floor as he held your hand, guiding you on the path to walk. He wasn't planning on doing anything ridiculous with you; maybe it was just the excitement of being the new owner that had him wanting to show people around.
Meanwhile, Jungkook was still not feeling the atmosphere. Boredom and bitterness still coated his chest. Neither his friends nor the women who came to talk to him seemed to make the night pleasant.
Though he tried to avoid it, the alcohol did help to make the night a little more tolerable. He watched the dance floor from their VIP section as his friends chatted about whatever, and he stared mindlessly.
He listened to how Taehyung refused to drink, only settling for a non-alcoholic beverage since he had to go back home to a baby. Namjoon teased him for his newfound sense of responsibility.
"What the fuck is up with Jungkook?" Namjoon asked Taehyung directly.
"Maybe it's because he bumped into Y/N at the hospital. Did I tell you?"
Namjoon shook his head. "What was she doing there? Don't tell me she had a baby too!"
Taehyung scoffed at Namjoon’s suspicion. "No, she's a doctor. I think he'd lose his shit if she did, though. Just look at how affected he is from seeing her."
He definitely would. He'd lose his shit real bad.
"So you think it's about that?" Namjoon took a sip.
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Did they seem cool at all?"
"As cool as two bulls seeing red," Taehyung scoffed.
"I'll be back." They heard the subject of their conversation speak as he stood.
"Damn," Namjoon said, watching Jungkook walk away.
Jungkook had been dodging every woman who came into contact with him. Tonight was about supporting Jimin, not finding a hookup. Plus, he had been too busy with work to even find interest in hooking up.
To be honest with himself, he had been quite thrown off since the day he saw you at the hospital. Your white coat and blue scrubs complemented your skin. Fuck, he hated it.
He hated being off his game; it was the anger he felt. He had always wondered what he would do if he ever saw you again, and he had never known the answer. Even right now, he didn't know what to do about it. But he didn't need to think too much about it. He had only seen you once, and that was that. It’s not like he was going to see you again.
Gosh, he always wondered if you stayed in Seoul, and it looked like you did. He had always felt fine not knowing if you were within the city or not. But now that he was sure you were still here and probably frequenting the same places he did, the town felt small, and the air felt suffocating.
He was angry, bitter, and confused. With Taehyung in his ear, he grew more bothered by your existence. He had been fine when he never saw you, never knew where you were, or if you were okay—not knowing if you had ever moved on or not. He had been fine not knowing and just forgetting about you.
Or at least he thought he was.
Seeing you just opened a wound to something he had forgotten—not healed.
Since that day, he had been bombarded with thoughts and worries about you. He had questions, but he didn't know if he would be able to ask them if he opened his mouth. Or if he would even want to know the answers to some.
Whenever you were around and he opened his mouth, he just let his bitterness take the lead and speak for him.
He did feel shitty for what he said. To the outside eye, it might have seemed harmless, but between the two of you, it held more weight, and he should have known better than to say it.
Why couldn't he have just said "hi"? Like a normal person.
"Have you gotten the chance to go over the results?" Jungkook's assistant asks as he walks into his office. Is he an assistant? More like an associate, rather.
"No, I just got them, so I only skimmed through." To be honest, he's been trying to balance a lot lately: his work, this case, his thoughts, and his emotions—specifically, you. He's never had this much trouble before, but it needs to stop. It's a big and emotionally sensitive case he needs to work on, so he needs to have his full focus on analyzing the case and not on what he did to lose you.
"Take a look," Jaehyun suggests to his superior, who seems out of it. "And I was thinking we should get a doctor to testify." He lays out the papers on Jungkook’s side table, and Jungkook lets him, watching closely and trying to pay attention.
"I can have some doctors go over the report and—" Jungkook's voice intercepts and startles the younger man.
"No. That won't be necessary. I already have someone." Jungkook says, a small smile taking over his face.
This is a good chance for him to see you again and get the opportunity to apologize for what he said. And maybe his mind will leave him alone.
"You've got to be kidding me! Why am I being haunted?" you exclaim, disbelief flooding your voice as you approach the front desk. The sight of Jungkook standing there sends a rush of conflicting emotions through you—anger, frustration, and an undeniable pang of something else you refuse to acknowledge. Jungkook knew you wouldn’t be happy to see him, but all he hoped was that you wouldn’t make a scene.
"Don't be childish," he replies, his tone clipped as you draw closer. "Look, I’m not here to argue; I just want to talk." He pulls you aside, creating a small barrier between the two of you and the bustling crowd around the desk.
"Nothing to talk about, Jeon," you mutter, folding your arms defensively. Surprisingly, you don’t walk away, even though every part of you screams to escape. You tell yourself it’s to avoid causing a scene, but deep down, you know it’s more complicated than that.
"I need your help." His rushed, hushed words catch you off guard, and you can’t help but snicker, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.
"With what?" You feign disinterest, but the urge to provoke him lingers, like a moth drawn to a flame.
"A case I'm working on. I need a doctor to testify." His seriousness is almost comical, and for a moment, you think he must be joking. It feels like a cruel twist of fate—he rose from the ashes of your past just to humiliate you all over again.
"And you came to me to recommend someone? I'm pretty sure you have other people to ask." You turn to leave, your heart racing with a mix of indignation and something softer that you refuse to acknowledge.
"I want your help." His words stop you in your tracks, and you feel a flicker of something—hope? Regret? You roll your eyes, trying to mask the turmoil inside.
"This is stalking, Jungkook. Just because you know where I work doesn’t mean you can show up whenever you feel like it." You find yourself trying to ignore the weight of his previous words, the way they linger in the air between you.
Jungkook sighs, frustration etched across his features. He knows he shouldn’t have come here; it’s weird, especially given the history between you two. What made him think you’d suddenly warm up to him after four years apart? He should have thought it through before leaping at the opportunity. But there’s something familiar about being around you, something that feels like home, even after all this time.
"I'm sorry," he says, and the words take you aback. You never thought you’d hear him apologize for anything. Your hands drop to your sides as you struggle to look anywhere but at him. "I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry. But I need your help." He doesn’t necessarily need your help, but he sure does want it. It’s not the apology you’ve been waiting for, but it stirs something deep within you.
"No, I’m not going to. Plus, I’m just a junior doctor," you say, your tone softening as you reluctantly engage in the conversation.
"You got your degree, didn’t you?" He asks, and you nod, feeling a flicker of pride. Before you can respond, he continues, "Practicing license?" Another nod. "Work experience?" His questions come in a rush, and you knit your brows together, feeling the pressure of his expectations.
"Yeah," you reply, glancing around your workplace, filled with patients, doctors, and nurses, all oblivious to the tension crackling between you two.
You shake your head, trying to ground yourself in reality. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"It’s all you need to testify and ensure your words aren’t null and void."
For a fleeting second, you consider it. Then you don’t.
"And honestly, why the hell would I want to help you?" You snap back, your arms folding across your chest once more, a barrier against the emotions threatening to spill over.
"You're not helping me; you're helping a little girl." His words freeze you in place, and suddenly, the weight of his plea sinks in. "Honestly, I don’t care if we’re good or not. I just need your help. She needs your help."
You don’t know if it’s his new method of guilt-tripping or the sincerity in his voice, but the statement has you straightening your back, your resolve wavering.
"Don’t guilt trip me," you lower your eyes at him, and he scoffs, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze as he watches your expression shift.
"I'm not," he insists, and maybe it’s the cheeky smile that suddenly forms on his face that makes you shy under his gaze. Jungkook’s words have always had a way of getting to you, and you’re shocked to find that it still works. You guess it’s a good thing he became a lawyer; it suits him.
Jungkook sighs, his expression softening. "You know what? If you don’t want to help me, it’s alright. I get it—"
"I’ll help you." The words escape your lips before you can fully process them, and you can’t help but feel a mix of surprise and resignation.
You had spent more time than you wanted with Jungkook over the week, but it was just to prepare you. Once you helped him, you hoped he’d leave you alone and you could finally go your own way, trying to forget as much of him as you could.
"What should I wear?" you asked him over the phone. It reminded you of conversations you’d had before visiting his parents. You promised to only use his line for talking about the case, and that’s what you were doing; afterwards, you swore you were going to delete it.
"Wear what you want." He leaned back in his chair, listening to you talk while paying close attention.
"Even my underwear?" You tried to be sarcastic.
You could hear Jungkook’s soft chuckle, and it warmed your heart, making you blush. Thoughts of your late-night calls flooded your mind, but you quickly caught yourself.
Stop, you told yourself as you wiped the smile off your face.
"Not for the court." His index and middle fingers found their way to rubbing his lower lip. You could hear the sultriness in his voice, and his tone reminded you of something—ah, phone sex.
Why the hell are you thinking this? Shit.
"Wear what you want, just make it presentable." His tone shifted back to serious. Your silence made him think he had crossed a line. Honestly, he didn’t intend to; it just came so naturally to him.
You sighed. Jungkook waited for you to end the call, but you didn’t.
"Goodnight," you finally found the courage to say, ready to end the conversation.
"Goo—" Before he had a chance to respond, the line beeped, and you hung up.
The thought of hearing his voice and having it embedded in your mind once again was too much for you to handle. Hearing his voice was already overwhelming.
It was deeper, more mature, and sensu—
"Not possible for the injuries sustained to be accidental or self-inflicted," you assert, your voice steady and confident, just as Jungkook instructed you to be. Your gaze drifts to him, and you catch his encouraging smile, a small nod that sends a rush of warmth through you. It feels good to have him there, supporting you, but the past few days spent working on this case with him have left you in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what to feel.
"So, Mrs—sorry—Doctor," Jungkook’s counterpart interjects, the slip of your title not an accident but a tactic that has Jungkook sitting up straighter in his chair, adjusting his suit. He senses the tension in the air and doesn’t like where this is headed. "What you’re saying is that it’s not possible?"
"Y-yes." You can see how the slip-up has thrown you off balance; your tone falters, but you fight to maintain your confidence, even as you avoid Jungkook’s gaze.
"Not in this lifetime or the next?" The pressure mounts, and you feel the anxiety bubbling within you, your palms growing clammy as your heart races.
"I’ll never want to be with you again in this life or the next," you had yelled at Jungkook one night before your divorce, the memory echoing painfully in your mind.
What the hell is happening? Your heart constricts, and you feel the weight of the room pressing down on you.
"Yes," you say, your voice firmer now, desperate to move past this line of questioning. The only time you’ve ever been in a courtroom was to sign your divorce papers.
"And perhaps, do you think you’re not knowledgeable enough to determine this?" he presses, and you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks.
"No. If you’re not satisfied, I have many other doctors’ statements with me," you retort, a hint of cockiness creeping into your tone.
"Not necessary." He shrugs it off, turning to his table to pick up some papers. "But I do have to ask..."
A smirk plays on his lips, and Jungkook feels a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach.
"Are you maybe a little biased in your opinion because of your close relationship with Counsel Jeon?"
You freeze, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. Stay calm, Y/N.
"What do you mean?" you ask, your voice steady but your heart racing.
"Objection, Your Honor. What he’s asking is unnecessary," Jungkook interjects, his voice firm.
"Overruled."
Jungkook groans, frustration boiling beneath the surface. This isn’t what he wanted, but he should have expected it. He got too carried away enjoying your presence, even if he won’t acknowledge it.
"Go on, Counsel." Now you’re about to be grilled about something you’re not prepared for.
"Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Ms. or Mrs.," he jeers.
"I prefer Dr.," you snap back, irritation flaring as you feel your professionalism slipping.
"Doctor, are you married?"
You chuckle, the absurdity of the question almost making you laugh.
"In front of the court?" you tease, your tone a mix of annoyance and playfulness. Jungkook can’t help but feel a swell of pride at how you’re handling yourself. You’ve always had to defend yourself against his family, and he’s felt like a coward for not standing up for you when you needed it most.
"That’s not what I mean, and you know it."
You shrug your shoulders, insinuating otherwise, and take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
"No, I’m not."
"So, divorced? Because it was made known to me that you and Counsel Jeon had an intimate relationship." His words cut deep, and you bite your inner cheek, hoping you don’t draw blood. "Could your statement and judgment be influenced by the romance you two share, henceforth you help him and influence others to do so?"
Your mouth goes dry, and you take a moment to collect yourself, refusing to look at Jungkook, afraid of the look in his eyes that might make you break down.
"Jeon and I don’t share any sort of relationship outside of this courtroom," you say, your heart constricting painfully. Jungkook shifts in his seat, frustration simmering as he wishes he could react, but he knows he can’t.
"But you have, am I right?" he bellows, clinging to the idea. "Four years ago, married for two years, no children." With each word, you bite harder into your cheek, feeling the pressure mounting.
"Your Honor!" Jungkook tries to interject, but he’s ignored.
You glance at the judge, and Jungkook recognizes that look on your face —the same look you’d give him at family dinners, a silent plea for him to speak up, to defend you. But he never did, and the weight of that regret crushes him. Why was he such a coward? The determination to protect you surges within him, and he knows he can’t let this continue.
The judge looks at you, waiting for your answer.
So, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself against the onslaught of emotions.
"Yes," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Who ended the relationship?" he snaps back, the pressure mounting like a vice around your chest.
"I did," you respond quickly, the words spilling out before you can think.
"And was it because of something he did or something you did?"
"Objection, Your Honor!" Jungkook’s voice cuts through the tension, sounding more agitated than he intended. His assistant can see how unlike him he’s being; he’s never responded with this much emotion, but the stakes are too high.
"Skip the question, Counsel." The judge’s tone is firm, and Jungkook feels a flicker of satisfaction, but it’s not enough. He needs to get you out of this situation.
"Why did you end the relationship?" The defence attorney presses, and you can feel the weight of the room closing in on you.
"The typical—I wasn’t happy," you say blandly, though inside, the iron taste of anxiety lingers.
"Have you and Mr. Jeon rekindled that old flame?"
Would you call hanging out to prepare for this case rekindling? No. Would you call enjoying his presence and calling him for small things about the case rekindling a flame?
You almost laugh, but it’s a hollow sound.
"No," you reply, your voice steady.
"Then why are you helping him here today?"
"I'm not helping him; I'm helping the little girl."
You can see a smile appear on the defence attorney's face, a smugness that makes your skin crawl.
"Do you know her personally?" he asks, dripping with sarcasm, but you refuse to bite.
"No."
"Then why help? Why should you care about a stranger?"
"I don’t need to know a person to care for them. That’s one of the reasons I am a doctor. She’s just a child, and I have an obligation to defend her when I can," you say, your voice rising with conviction.
But beneath that conviction, a deeper feeling wells up inside you—a longing to be defended yourself. All your life, you’ve faced hellfire from your parents and others, and all you ever wished for was someone to stand up for you. Maybe that’s why Jungkook had stolen your heart in high school; he was there for you, defending you from bullies and creeps. But when it came to his parents, he had failed you.
"Is it the girl you care about or Counsel Jeon?" The defence attorney’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and frustration bubbles to the surface. Your heart races, and you feel the walls closing in, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You might just have a panic attack.
Jungkook sees it, his palms sweating as he fights the urge to intervene.
"Tell the court, Doctor. Tell them how you still hold feelings for him and are doing this to get back with him. You don’t care about that little girl; you care about Jeon and helping him because you still love him, and your findings are biased and inaccurate."
His words press down on you, and you feel yourself slipping. In this moment, you’re bound to say anything—true or false—just to escape this suffocating situation. Jungkook is uncomfortable in his seat, knowing he can’t react how he wants to, but something in him still wants to know what you might say.
"I don’t love him; I was young and stupid when I married him, and it was a mistake," you rush out, frustration spilling over as you fight to free yourself from these overwhelming feelings. You don’t want to break down here, not in front of everyone, not in front of Jungkook.
You’re on the verge of tears.
The defence attorney opens his mouth to speak, but Jungkook’s voice cuts through again.
"Your Honor, my witness is uncomfortable and has done what she came to do. Anything else is unnecessary." His tone is fed up, and he’s not about to let this continue. If the judge says no, he’ll pull you out of here, consequences be damned. He can’t bear to watch you suffer like this. He’s hurt you enough in your life, and he blames himself for forcing you into this situation.
"I’ll agree with Counsel on this," the judge finally says. "The witness is free from the box."
You let out a sigh of relief, but it’s hard to move. The weight of the moment lingers, and you feel the tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. You turn on your heel and storm out of the courtroom, not daring to glance back at Jungkook. The rush of emotions is overwhelming, and you can feel the tears welling up, blurring your vision as you push through the door.
"Y/N, wait!" Jungkook calls after you, his voice cutting through the chaos in your mind. You can hear his footsteps echoing behind you, but you don’t stop. You need to get away, to breathe, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the courtroom and the weight of the past that hangs between you.
Once you’re in a clear area, he catches up to you, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. "I can’t just let you go like this."
You pull away, your heart racing. "I came here to help, not to get grilled about something I’m still trying to forget, Jungkook." Your voice trembles, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. You wipe them away angrily, but they keep coming, each drop a reminder of the pain you’ve been trying to suppress.
Jungkook’s heart breaks at the sight of you, vulnerable and raw. He’s seen you cry before, but this feels different—more intense, more real. "I know, and I’m sorry. That’s how the court is. But it’s my fault," he says, stepping closer, his voice low and earnest.
"If I had known, I would’ve—"
"You would’ve what? Defended me? There’s nothing you’ve ever done to defend me unless it was to soothe your own ego or pride," you spit out, the venom in your words reflecting the hurt that has festered for so long.
"Y/N…" He pleads, searching for the right words, but they elude him. You’re the only person in this world who can silence him, whether it’s with your sweetness or your rage. Normally, he’d have a comeback for anyone else, but with you, he’s left speechless.
"Don’t say anything. I’ve helped you, and I honestly hope you win—not for you, but for that little girl." You take a shaky breath, trying to regain your composure. "But please, never come to my work again or even call. Please." Your voice softens at the end, a desperate plea that cuts through the anger.
His heart aches at your words. You’re asking him to leave you alone, but deep down, he knows you don’t really mean it. Your heart is pleading for him to hold you, to tell you that everything will be okay, that he’s there to protect you. But he can’t say that now—not when you’re so hurt.
He doesn’t fight back, not like he usually would. This time, it’s strategic. He knows you’re angry, and there’s nothing he can say to change that. He respects your wishes, but he won’t let you go—not this time. He’s let his cowardice and lack of effort keep you from him for too long, and he’s realized he doesn’t want to be away from you anymore.
"Truly trouble in paradise?" The voice that had once torn down your walls now cuts through the tension like a knife, and Jungkook can think of nothing but the seething rage boiling inside him.
"You’re a fucking piece of shit," Jungkook growls, his voice heavy and thick with fury. He barely registers the curious glances from those around him; all he can focus on is the man standing before him, the source of his torment.
"Being good doesn’t pay, Jeon," the man sneers, a smug grin plastered across his face. In an instant, Jungkook’s anger ignites, and he lunges forward, wrapping his fist around the man’s collar, the force of his grip wiping the smile off his face. The adrenaline surges through him, amplifying his strength and fury. He could easily crush this man, and the thought is intoxicating.
But just as he’s about to unleash his pent-up rage, his assistant, Jaehyun, steps in, urgency lacing his voice. "Jungkook, please." He grips Jungkook’s arm, trying to pull him back from the brink. Jungkook’s jaw clenches tighter, his eyes locked onto the man beneath him, a tempest of anger and pain swirling within. He’s ready to say fuck it and end this right here, right now. He could do it, and a dark part of him wants to.
But he knows better. This isn’t just about him; it’s about you. It’s about the mess that has become your lives, and he can’t let his anger spiral out of control—not for himself, not for anyone, and especially not for you.
With a surge of frustration, he shoves the man backward, watching as he stumbles but manages to catch himself, quickly dusting off his shirt. The sight only fuels Jungkook’s rage further.
"Fuck you, you piece of shit," Jungkook snarls one last time, his voice low and dangerous.
The man smirks, a cruel glint in his eyes. "I’m not the one with a failed marriage, Jeon." The words hang in the air, a taunt that cuts deeper than any physical blow. Jungkook feels the heat of humiliation wash over him, a reminder of everything he’s lost.
"Where’s she?" he demands, his hand running through his hair in a desperate attempt to regain control.
"She’s left. She got into a cab," an intern reports, the words hitting Jungkook like a punch to the gut.
"Fuck," he breathes, his fingers tangling in his slicked-back hair, ruining the carefully styled look. The realization crashes over him like a tidal wave—he’s losing you, and the thought sends a fresh wave of panic coursing through his veins.
"It's not that serious, Y/N. That's just how my mother talks," Jungkook says as you step into your shared apartment, the familiar space feeling more like a prison than a home. It’s decent, sure, but right now, it feels suffocating.
"Insulting and degrading me is how she talks? Because I don't see her talking to you or Yujin like that," you retort, your voice sharp and laced with hurt. Jungkook’s jaw clenches at the comparison, the tension in the room thickening as he grapples with your words.
"Maybe she's still salty about me disobeying her," he mutters, making excuses for her behavior, as if that somehow justifies the way she treats you.
"That's no fucking excuse," you snap, your voice tight, hands swinging in frustration. The anger bubbling inside you is a mix of hurt and disbelief.
"Mind how you talk to me, Y/N," he barks, turning to face you, his tone harsh and commanding.
"I'll talk however I want to, seeing that you let your mother do the same," you shoot back, watching as he freezes mid-motion, the tension palpable.
You had just returned from Jungkook’s parents' place for dinner, and it had been a nightmare. You had to bite your tongue, suppressing the snarky remarks that threatened to spill out, knowing you’d be blamed for everything regardless. The only one who had stepped in was Jungkook’s father, and while you appreciated it, it felt like a hollow gesture in the face of his mother’s relentless barbs.
"She's my mother! What do you want me to say?" he hisses, frustration etched across his face.
"I WANT YOU TO FUCKING DEFEND ME!" The words burst from your lips, raw and desperate. You rub your face, trying to rein in your emotions, lowering your tone to avoid a noise complaint. "Defend me, Jungkook. That's all I want." Your voice trembles, and you can feel the tears welling up, threatening to spill over.
"I don't want to look like a joke in front of your family every single time we visit," you continue, your heart racing as you lay bare your feelings to someone who seems to be slipping further away. "Being made a fool of, even more, when you don’t say anything."
"That’s how she is, Y/N, please," he says, defending her yet again, and it feels like a knife twisting in your gut.
"Only to me?" You place a hand on your chest, trying to emphasize your pain. "I get it; I’m not the best or perfect daughter-in-law, but does that mean I have to get insulted? It’s not like I’ve ever done anything to her." You search his eyes for understanding, but all you see is a wall. Maybe he’s just fallen out of love with you. Maybe he doesn’t care anymore.
"The problem is that you always see it from your side. You're so selfish!" And there it is—his words hit you like a slap, igniting a fire of indignation within you.
"I'm selfish? What have I ever done to be called selfish?" Tears stream down your face, but you refuse to let them silence you.
"THIS! Right here. Your bratty and victim behaviour." He throws the shirt he had on onto the bed, changing into another one, as if he can shed the weight of this conversation along with his clothes.
"You're just a coward, and you'll never grow to defend anyone, honestly. Between the two of us, you're the selfish one," you say, your voice breaking as you give up trying. You’ve fought so hard, but it’s exhausting when the other person won’t even meet you halfway.
"Say whatever you want, Y/N," he replies, his tone dismissive, never acknowledging that you might be right.
"I'm just going to sleep over at my mom's," you say, the words feeling like a surrender.
"Go ahead," he mutters, not even bothering to turn and face you. The silence that follows is deafening, a chasm of unspoken words and unresolved feelings stretching between you.
You both stand there, two people in a shared space yet feeling more alone than ever, the weight of your unaddressed pain hanging heavily in the air. As you turn to leave, you can’t shake the feeling that this might be the beginning of the end.
"You sure you’re okay? Never thought you’d come here by yourself," Jimin says, handing Jungkook a private bottle. He never expected to find himself here alone either, but things change, and feelings hurt more than he cares to admit.
"Yeah, just need some alone time," Jungkook replies, his voice flat, devoid of any life. Jimin stares at him, unsure of how to approach the situation, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them.
"Work?" Jimin tries, hoping to pry a little more out of him.
"Yeah. Let’s say that." Jungkook’s response is vague, and he knows he’s not convincing anyone. But Jimin doesn’t press further, even though a million questions swirl in his mind.
He feels a pang of sympathy for his friend, especially not knowing how to help. Jungkook has been quiet and standoffish lately, but tonight feels particularly off. He swears he’s fine, but the facade is crumbling, and Jimin can see it.
"I'm sorry I won’t be with you all night; I’ve got a date." Jimin feels guilty for leaving Jungkook alone in the club, but he can’t bail. It’s not like Jungkook wants company anyway.
"You’re not gonna ask me about her?" Jimin tries to lighten the mood, but Jungkook’s expression remains stoic. He wouldn’t want anything more than to drown out the running thoughts in his head. "Fine, I’ll tell you." Jimin smirks, the thought of describing you igniting a flicker of excitement in him.
"Her name’s Y/N. She’s so gorgeous, and I invited her to hang out with me for the night." The moment your name leaves Jimin’s mouth, Jungkook’s heart drops. What the fuck did he just say? Should he be pissed? The jealousy ignites within him, a burning spite that roars louder than the music in the club. But should he even feel this way? It’s been two weeks since the court incident, and he’s been hating himself since. He hopes you’re doing better than he is.
"She’s so hard to get a hold of because she’s busy with work or something," Jimin continues, oblivious to the storm brewing inside Jungkook. With each word, Jungkook feels himself slipping further into a dark place, the alcohol numbing his senses but amplifying his emotions.
"Or maybe she doesn’t want you," Jimin adds, taking a swig from his drink. Jungkook’s mind races. You and Jimin? The thought sends a wave of anger crashing over him. He hates how things went down between you two, how he’s been unable to think about anything else. He just wants to fix it so badly, but maybe going out with Jimin would make you happy.
Jungkook knows he’s the problem, and he’s understood that for some time now. But how can he show you that he’s learned and changed? Letting you go off with someone else? Maybe that’s what he deserves.
He wishes he could say something to Jimin, tell him not to do anything with his wife—you. But he’s not in a position to make demands. It would be fair to tell Jimin who you are to him, right? But the thought of it feels like a weight too heavy to bear. He lacks the mental strength to confront the reality of his feelings.
"No, she definitely wants me. I wanna dine her and wine her, treat her good, you know?" Jimin’s words grate on Jungkook’s nerves, irritation bubbling to the surface.
"Maybe you should get going," Jungkook says, his tone harsher than he intended, the frustration spilling over.
"You’re right." Jimin takes the hint, perhaps realizing he shouldn’t be talking about himself right now. "Enjoy yourself." He walks away, leaving Jungkook to wallow in his thoughts, his jaw locked and his hand tightly wrapped around his glass.
As the music thumps around him, Jungkook’s mind spirals. He can’t shake the image of you with Jimin, the thought gnawing at him like a relentless itch. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the jealousy and regret swirl within him, a tempest he can’t escape.
Soon, he finds himself wandering around the bar, lost in a haze of emotions, searching for something—anything—to distract him from the reality of what he’s losing. The night stretches on, and with each passing moment, the weight of his choices presses down harder, leaving him feeling more alone than ever.
"Just sign here," your lawyer says, sliding the paperwork across the table to Jungkook. He feels as if the air has been sucked from the room, and he can’t breathe. He holds his breath until the reality of the moment crashes down on him, forcing him to gasp for air. It feels like he’s dying anyway, suffocating under the weight of what’s about to happen.
On the other side of the table, you haven’t been breathing since those damn papers were printed out and handed to you. You know you’ve made stupid choices in your life, but now you’re left questioning which is more foolish: marrying at such a young age or choosing to divorce Jungkook.
"So that’s it?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he drags the pen across the dotted line. He can’t bring himself to look at you, his gaze fixated on your lawyer instead. Deep down, he had a feeling this would happen, but why wasn’t he prepared to fight for you? If you were so eager to end it, maybe you didn’t want to make it work, and he wasn’t going to force you. But the bitterness of it all gnaws at him, and he can’t help but hate you for this. There’s so much he despises about himself in this moment.
"Yes," your lawyer replies, holding the papers closer, as if they’re a lifeline. A heavy, suffocating weight washes over you as you stare at Jungkook, who can’t even muster the strength to meet your gaze or try to stop you from doing this. Anger and bitterness swell within you, so overwhelming that you can’t bear to be in his presence any longer. You turn and walk out, already having taken all your things from your shared home. There��s no need to see him again.
He didn’t even fight. The words echo in your mind as your lawyer follows behind you, leading you to their car. You glance back at the entrance door, half-expecting him to come after you, to call your name, to plead with you to stay.
But he doesn’t.
Something keeps Jungkook frozen in place, hands trembling and breath coming in labored gasps. Is this how it feels to be heartbroken? He never thought it would happen, not to him, not to you two. You were each other’s first love, always together, and never had anything this grand happen before. All he can think about is how you gave up on what you had, how you threw everything away.
Selfish.
"Get a grip of yourself," Taehyung says, his eyes focused on the baby he’s rocking and feeding. "She'll cool down." Taehyung is never serious enough to grasp the gravity of things, which makes Jungkook roll his eyes so far back he might just see the moon.
"I really fucked up," he says for the hundredth time since that night, as if repeating it will somehow make it less true. "I was so selfish." The words sink deeper into his skin each time he utters them, like a bad tattoo he can’t scrub off. He had spent so long thinking it was your fault, ignoring his own feelings and the situation, never reflecting on it until now. "All she wanted was for me to care." He buries his head in his palms, closing his eyes to wallow in the darkness of his misery.
"I'm so fucking shitty," he continues, and Taehyung listens, trying to block the baby’s ears from Jungkook’s foul language. The baby coos, blissfully unaware of the emotional turmoil swirling around her.
"It’s pissing me off that this is when I’m actually seeing it. I spent so much time trying to ignore it." Jungkook can’t seem to find a comfortable position on Taehyung’s couch, shuffling around like a toddler who just drank too much juice.
"That’s why it’s good to reflect," Taehyung says, not really helping but still managing to sound wise. The baby lets out a little gurgle, and Taehyung quickly rocks her to quiet her down. His wife had gone out to buy some things and hang out with her friends, leaving Taehyung more than happy to babysit.
"But I’ve changed, haven’t I?" Jungkook stares at Taehyung, who’s clearly lost in his own world but still hears the question.
"It’s shocking," Taehyung replies, deadpan. From what he’s seen, Jungkook has definitely evolved from his childish self. His childish self would’ve either hidden under the bed, afraid of his own feelings, or yelled out in rebellion against them. Taehyung can actually see how grown his friend has become, but that doesn’t mean he’s fully synthesized maturity.
"How am I going to prove that to her?" Jungkook asks, his voice tinged with desperation.
"I don’t know," Taehyung deadpans, and Jungkook shoots him a look that could curdle milk.
"Thanks for the help, buddy," Jungkook mutters, feeling like he’s talking to a wall.
Taehyung shrugs, clearly not interested in baby-feeding Jungkook the answers. He’s just an ear, and he did his part.
"Did I tell you that Jimin invited her there, and that’s the only reason I got to see her? Fucking universe," Jungkook continues to ramble on. He’s usually quiet these days, so should Taehyung be happy that his friend is talking or antsy that he’s never shutting up?
"You did tell him?" Taehyung asks, finally meeting Jungkook’s eyes.
"No. I couldn’t. I don’t know why."
“Does she know?”
“Doubt it.”
Taehyung groans and chuckles, but low enough not to stir the baby. "Do you think they’ll..."
Jungkook lifts a brow at his friend. "What? Hook up?" The thought itches at his core, and now that he’s thinking about it, he wishes he had told Jimin. He can still call, right? "I hope fucking not," he spits out, bitterness dripping from his words.
"He doesn’t know, and you didn’t tell him, so you can’t blame them." Taehyung’s right, and it bugs Jungkook even more. He feels so stupid.
Jimin was a friend Jungkook had after your divorce, and since he never saw you, you never got to meet him. Jungkook and anyone else never talked about you, so Jimin was lost at the fact that Jungkook had been married to you, though he did know that the guy had been divorced after a drunk night of Taehyung talking nonsense.
"I’m so fucking stupid, stupid," Jungkook grumbles like a child, and Taehyung laughs, now holding the infant over his shoulder to burp her.
"Spent so many years being bitter and hating her when it was my fucking fault." The realizations keep dawning on him like a bad sitcom.
"Dick move."
"You’re not helping," Jungkook snaps, but Taehyung just laughs at the thought that he’s here to help him. Right now, he’s just playing the role of the listener so that Jungkook doesn’t look crazy for talking to himself and making these realizations. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help or advise his friend; it’s just that there’s not much he can do except listen.
"Look, I’m not on your side; I’m on the side of whatever’s gonna get you back together," Taehyung states, his tone serious for a moment.
"She won’t even talk to me, Tae," Jungkook pouts, but it goes unnoticed by his friend, who’s too busy celebrating the successful burp of the baby.
"You don’t know that," Taehyung replies, still rocking the baby gently.
"Maybe I don’t want her to," Jungkook mutters, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. "Maybe I want her to just keep ignoring me and move on with her life." Something in him wishes he could leave you alone to set you free from himself, but that was the same mindset that got him divorced in the first place. Maybe if he fought for you, you’d be in a better place. So that’s what he wants to do—fight for you this time.
"I was really such a bad husband. So stupid and naive. I’d be mad at me too," he admits, his voice heavy with regret.
Taehyung continues to walk around, rocking the baby. "Maybe instead of telling me this, you should tell her."
"She doesn’t even want to see me! How am I gonna do that?" Jungkook exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He genuinely doesn’t know, and he’s never known a foolproof plan that could help him. He’s just hoping the universe can lend a helping hand, seeing that it’s been invested in their relationship anyway.
"I don’t know, but just remember to not be a creep," Taehyung advises, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
"Thanks for the tip, Dr. Phil," Jungkook retorts, rolling his eyes. "I’ll just show up at her door with flowers and a serenade. What could go wrong?"
"Hey, if you can pull off a serenade without scaring her away, I’d pay to see that," Taehyung chuckles, and the baby lets out a tiny sound, as if she’s in on the joke.
"So how are you feeling?" Rosie asks, noticing how deeply you're staring into your coffee, as if it holds the answers to all your questions.
You continue to stir it absentmindedly, letting out a sigh. Not even the cozy warmth of the café seems to ease the turmoil inside you.
"To be honest, I don’t know," you reply, releasing an empty chuckle. All you've been thinking about is Jungkook. You’re not even sure what about him, but the fact that he occupies your mind so much is starting to annoy you. And Rosie can see it too.
"Do you think talking to him could make it better?" she asks, taking a cautious sip of her drink, her eyes searching yours for a hint of clarity.
You manage a smile and finally meet her gaze. "I don’t even want to think about talking to him."
"Yn," Rosie whines, leaning in slightly. "You need to. Not for him, but for you."
You sigh again, feeling the weight of her words. "It’s just really hard to do." You stare off into the distance, lost in thought about what you really want to do.
What is right?
"Do you think you still have feelings for him?" she treads lightly, gauging your reaction.
"I don’t know," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing him has definitely made me think a lot, but that doesn’t change anything. I don’t even know if he’s changed as a person."
"If he has, would you get back with him?" She raises a brow, fully focused on you now, her curiosity piqued.
You throw her an undecided look, your brow furrowing in confusion.
A smile grows on her face. "You would, wouldn’t you?" she laughs, and you shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh of your own.
You're blushing, and it feels like a betrayal to your own feelings.
"I never said that," you protest, trying to sound firm but failing to hide the uncertainty in your voice.
"It’s not about what you said; it’s about what you’ve shown," she counters, her tone teasing yet insightful.
With a shrug and a heavy silence, the conversation hangs in the air. You’ve been asking yourself that same question too, and honestly, you aren’t sure of the answer. You just don’t want to think about it at all.
"I'd love to, Tae, thank you," you reply, your voice a little shaky. Taehyung called you unexpectedly, and when you saw his name flash on your screen, a wave of anxiety washed over you. Part of you feared he was calling to ask about what happened between you and Jungkook, and you honestly wouldn’t know where to begin if that were the case. So, you’re relieved when he doesn’t bring it up.
"When?" you ask, trying to sound casual, but your heart races. You never thought he was serious about the dinner plans he made, let alone that he would actually remember them. But he did, and once he got the chance, he made sure to reserve a table for four and call you over. He didn’t mention the reservation for four part, though; he probably thought it would be better to let you find out when you arrived, so you wouldn’t run away.
"Will Sunday be good for you?" he asks, his voice sounding professional, which makes you assume he’s at work. It’s Wednesday, so that makes sense.
"Yeah, sounds perfect," you agree, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling in your stomach. It’s just you, Taehyung, and his wife—there’s really nothing to be anxious about, right?
As Sunday approaches, you find yourself in a bit of a panic. It’s one of those fancy restaurants, and the exceptional service is only proof of how upscale it is. You struggle to find something decent to wear, your nerves making it hard to focus. After a good search in Rosie’s closet, you finally find the perfect dress. Perfect for who? You, of course.
Rosie is a little skeptical about you going to dinner with Taehyung, but you explain that he’s still a good friend and you wouldn’t want to decline the offer because that would offend him. Plus, it’s not like you don’t want to be there; you don’t mind. After all, it’s Jungkook who’s the problem, not Taehyung.
She reluctantly accepts your reasoning, but along with her questions, she expresses her concern that Jungkook might be there. That’s a point of contention. You swear to her that Jungkook wouldn’t be there, and she swears that he would. You don’t want to acknowledge the idea, but the fear of the possibility still lingers. If Jungkook was going to be there, Taehyung would have mentioned it, right?
As you walk into the restaurant, the server gestures for you to hand him your jacket, and you do so, your hands trembling slightly. He then directs you to the table where you’ll be seated once you tell him the name the reservation is under.
You walk through the room, your long, form-fitting dress hugging your curves. The rich red color complements your skin beautifully, and you can’t help but feel a little more confident. You really like this dress and doubt you’ll be giving it back. The thin straps rest delicately on your shoulders, and the straight neckline keeps your chest modest yet elegant. You hope you’re not over or underdressed.
When you finally spot Taehyung, he nods over to you, and you let out a sigh of relief, realizing you’re neither under nor overdressed. His wife is wearing a cream satin dress, but you can’t determine the length since she’s seated and hidden by the table. Taehyung has a warm smile on his face, dressed in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up, looking effortlessly charming. You walk toward them with a smile and a little excitement bubbling inside you.
That’s until Taehyung turns to talk to someone else. His wife is sitting on his other side, so if it’s not her he’s talking to, then…
Your body freezes for a second, and you contemplate turning around right now. The door isn’t so far away; you could make a run for it. You can feel your joints go rigid, but somehow, you find your way back to your chair. You let out a sigh as you take your seat, trying to shake off the tension. Jungkook had wanted to pull your chair out for you, but you brushed him off, and he was polite enough to accept your refusal.
You try to contain the rapid beating of your heart, which is now racing because of the unexpected presence of the man sitting next to you. Straightening your back and rubbing your palms together, you attempt to maintain the light and warm ambiance at the table. The last thing you want is for Jungkook’s presence to affect how you present yourself tonight.
Turning to greet Taehyung’s wife, Jian, you feel a flicker of relief since she’s the only one at the table you’re not annoyed with. Taehyung really brought you here knowing Jungkook would be here too. Was he in on it, or did he come here unaware of your presence? Are you both being set up right now? Is this some sort of intervention? You’re aware of how much Taehyung likes you and Jungkook together, and while you appreciate his concern, some things are just meant to be forgotten, buried.
“How are you?” you ask Jian, trying to sound cheerful despite the turmoil inside you. She greets you back with the same enthusiasm.
“You look so beautiful! How’s the baby?” You couldn’t help but ask; something about the doctor in you wanted to know.
“Perfect. My mom’s been a huge help,” she replies, her bright smile lighting up her face as she gracefully brushes her long, straight hair out of her eyes.
“That’s lovely,” you say, genuinely pleased for her.
“You look gorgeous too,” she compliments, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping in.
“I try,” you respond, attempting to stay modest. You don’t think you’re all that, but you do make an effort from time to time. Jungkook, on the other hand, would disagree; he thinks (knows) you look good in whatever you choose to wear, even when you don’t try. However, he’s not going to argue that you look stunning tonight. He could barely keep his eyes off you as you walked to the table. You couldn’t see him, but he could see you, and you looked great. He wanted to die, but Taehyung had to remind him to pull himself together.
It was then that your body shifted from fluid to solid. You had noticed him, and you didn’t seem happy at all. Jungkook felt a pang in his chest when you stopped him from pulling your chair out for you. He’s not going to blame you for it, though.
“It’s nice to see you out of your scrubs,” Taehyung says, and you can’t help but lower your eyes at him. He notices your glare and understands the reason for it. The little smirk he gives you makes you want to smack him right across the face. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
You chuckle, but it’s bitter.
“I’m sorry if I kept you all waiting,” you apologize, playing with your fingers as they rest in your lap. They hadn’t ordered yet, probably waiting for you, and your overthinking takes over, soon turning into guilt. You did try your best to get here on time, and you did, but you still say it anyway. Maybe it’s your internal tactic to lessen your nerves.
“No, you didn’t. Jungkook just came before you,” Taehyung says, clearly eager to push the agenda.
When he remembered he wanted to make plans for dinner, he told Jungkook and planned on bringing him too so they could talk. But right now, Jungkook looks like he’s going to lose his head, his eyes glued to the menu like a child.
“Mm,” is all you can manage as the awkwardness begins to grow, thickening the air around you. You can feel Jungkook’s presence beside you, and it’s both comforting and unsettling. You steal a glance at him, and he’s still focused on the menu, but you can sense the tension radiating off him.
The conversation around the table continues, but you find it hard to engage. Your mind is racing, and you can’t shake the feeling that this dinner is about to take a turn you’re not prepared for. You take a sip of your drink, hoping it will calm your nerves, but it only amplifies the fluttering in your stomach.
"She's such a good and peaceful baby, honestly," Jian exclaims with joy, and you can’t help but smile at how happy she is to talk about her little one. Taehyung stares at her, completely enamored with everything about her.
"I think she takes that from Jian," he adds, and laughter fills the air as everyone agrees. Between the couple, Jian is definitely the more relaxed and laid-back one. It’s funny how in your relationship with Jungkook, it had been the opposite. He was the laid-back one while you were the more outgoing, which is one of the reasons you got along so well with Taehyung. But for some reason, in this situation where you’d normally be talkative and engaged, you feel off and out of it. Jungkook notices your silence and curses himself for even coming; he feels like he’s ruined your night. He should have just left. Or not come at all.
You all order your food, each of you choosing what you want. You’re not entirely sure about some of the items on the menu, but the only person you could ask is the one you’re trying to avoid speaking to. So, you go for something you think will go best with how you’re feeling tonight.
Soon, the food arrives, one by one. Jungkook watches as your plate is placed in front of you. It’s not because he envies the meal—though it does look good—but because of the yellow garnishes on top that you hadn’t noticed. Just before the plate touches the table, Jungkook intercepts. “These have pineapples on them?” he asks the waiter, his tone serious.
“Yes, sir, it’s used for garnishing,” the waiter replies, and you watch as Jungkook investigates the young man, his face stern and his tone confident.
“Please bring her one without pineapples; she’s allergic,” he insists, and that’s all you can think about. Your heart flutters at how he remembers something about you, or maybe it’s just the effect of being close to pineapples.
How could he forget? Just because you aren’t together doesn’t mean he’s going to forget everything about you. How could he forget the little things about you that kept him up all night?
“You’re still allergic, right?” he asks, and you nod, finally acknowledging his presence for the first time during the night. You hadn’t realized that the meal you ordered was garnished with fancy-cut pineapples that you never would have noticed. You appreciate that he remembered and was able to spot it; otherwise, the night would have been even worse.
The way he stares at you, worry coating his eyes, makes you want to melt. You’ve just realized how much you missed this part of Jungkook—the one who would lead and speak out for you, the one who got you through those high school days.
“Sure, I’ll be right back,” the waiter says, bowing slightly before walking away with your plate.
Before your eyes move to your lap, they land on Jungkook, who’s staring right into them and welcoming them with a smile. You quickly look away, clearing your throat, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks.
Fuck, does he want to make this harder for you? Why is this so much more difficult than it should be? Your heart hasn’t stopped racing since you saw him, and you wish you could just pull it out and burn it. Why the hell is it beating so fast around him?
“That would’ve been bad,” you awkwardly chuckle, and Jungkook hums, feeling warmth engulf him. It’s a warmth mixed with a little confidence—the confidence to talk to you. Though he doesn’t show it, Jungkook is no better. He can feel his collared shirt grow tighter, even with one button undone. It’s as if he’s not comfortable in his own skin and just wants to rip out of it and beg you to talk to him. It’s tiring to just play it cool.
You wait for your food, and as you do, you notice that Jungkook hasn’t touched his. He’s simply looking around, not doing a very good job of it.
You want to lecture him, tell him to just eat—that’s what you’d do if you were still together. But you’re not, and the thought makes your heart go rigid. Why is it that the thought of not being with Jungkook is the only thing that stops your beating heart?
You feel bad. Maybe you’re being too difficult, and you’re a little harsh with him. Are you being too harsh? Or just looking out for yourself? Even through that, it doesn’t stop you from ignoring him. Even if you wanted to talk to him, what would you say?
The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, and you can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. You glance at Jungkook again, and for a moment, your eyes meet. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze—an unspoken question, a longing, perhaps. It makes your heart race even faster, and you quickly look away, focusing on the tablecloth instead. The intricate patterns seem to swirl and dance, a distraction from the tension that’s building between you.
The waiter returns with your new plate, setting it down gently in front of you. “Here you go, one without pineapples,” he says, and you offer him a grateful smile. Jungkook watches as you pick up your fork, and you can feel his eyes on you, a weight that both comforts and unnerves you.
“Thank you,” you say softly, and for a moment, you think you see a hint of relief in Jungkook’s expression. It’s fleeting, but it’s there, and it makes you wonder if he’s been holding his breath this whole time.
“So Jungkook won his case,” Taehyung says after a moment, clearing the air for a new topic. It’s something you don’t want to think about, but you can’t help but feel a flicker of pride for him.
“That’s nice,” Jian replies, and you nod in agreement. You’re genuinely glad he won. It’s nice that at least he’s helping other people, even if it doesn’t fix your own relationship.
“And I heard a special someone had something to do with it,” Taehyung adds cheekily, his gaze shifting to you. You roll your eyes with a light chuckle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. He’s really going hard at it.
“Tae, shut up,” Jungkook snaps, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Maybe if I throw a stick, he’d leave,” he whispers, and you can’t help but laugh at that. Jungkook lifts his eyes to you, listening to the sound of your melodious chuckle that he never realized he missed. Seeing you laugh at his joke gives him a little more confidence about all of this, a glimmer of hope.
“It was fine being in court for something other than—” you start, but then you cut off your statement, not finding it appropriate to finish. Thankfully, no one decides to question you on it, and you’re relieved. Jungkook knows you well, and having been there, he understands what the end of that sentence would sound like.
“But at the end, it got really suffocating,” you smirk, knowing only Jungkook would get it. He shifts in his seat, moving a little closer to you, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him.
“I’m sorry about that again,” he says, his eyes focused on you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you use your peripheral vision to watch his features soften as he speaks.
“Lawyers are heartless,” you say in a light-hearted tone, the words feeling directed at Jungkook, but he’ll never know that.
You all laugh, the sound filling the space between you, but it feels different now—charged with unspoken words and lingering emotions.
“Not our Kookie, though,” Taehyung chimes in, grinning. “Very un-heartless.”
You chuckle, but there’s a weight to your words. “Yeah, very.” You finally turn your eyes to meet Jungkook’s, and in that moment, your words feel empty, but your eyes aren’t. They hold a depth of feeling that you can’t quite articulate, a mixture of nostalgia, longing, and something else—something you’re not ready to name.
Jungkook’s expression shifts as he holds your gaze, and for a heartbeat, the world around you fades away. It’s just the two of you, caught in a moment that feels both familiar and foreign. You can see the flicker of emotions in his eyes, and it makes your heart race.
After some time, Jungkook just decides to say fuck it. He can talk to a large crowd, but with you, he feels paralyzed. You’re just one person—one person with his heart on the line. He knows he has to say something to you, and he just hopes you’re open to talking.
Do you even feel anything? Are you feeling the way he is? Does he have an effect on you like you have on him? Because if you don’t, then he’s going to feel like a fool. He just hopes you feel the same way. In high school, you were the one worried if he felt the same, but now it’s him.
After all, you could have moved on. You could be better and not need him. But unlike the image of you he has in his mind, he’s not okay. Not okay with this distance. He hates it.
“How are you enjoying your food?” he asks, turning to you while Taehyung and Jian talk about whatever.
“Good, it’s nice to come out once in a while,” you reply. It’s not a one-word answer, and he’ll take it. Is it his imagination, or do you seem interested in talking to him?
“How often are you busy?” he gulps, “with work, of course.” He sounds stupid and nervous, but you find it cute. Why do you find it cute? It’s really hard not to feel this way about someone you already know so well.
“Enough to make me want to pluck my eyes out,” you laugh, and he smiles. Even though you don’t make eye contact with him, he can feel you warming up to him. “But recently, work has been light,” you add, talking to him like you would when he asked you about your classes in high school.
“You like it?” he asks, hoping it’s not weird, but he can’t take his eyes off you. He just can’t.
“I do,” you reply, and he feels his heart thaw like frozen meat.
“T—that’s good,” he stammers, taking a bite of his food to stop the smile that threatens to spread across his face.
All of this is nice, but you can’t help but feel overwhelmed. You feel confused. Is he just talking to you because you’re the only one he has to talk to, or is he actually interested? It’s like being promised something only for the promise to be broken. You don’t want to get your hopes up. Not again.
“Please, excuse me,” you say, your head held down as you stand up from the table.
“Sure,” he replies, but soon grows worried. He brushes it off, telling himself he’s overthinking it. It’s going well; you’re talking to him, and that’s what matters. Baby steps.
You leave for the bathroom, needing some air that isn’t filled with Jungkook’s scent, which is now engraved in your sinuses and will probably haunt you. While in the bathroom, you pull out your phone and text Jimin, asking if you’re still on for later. You had made plans with him, and you did want to go, but now that you’re staring at the text, you wonder if what you’re doing is right.
It’s not like you and Jungkook are getting back together, and whatever this is between you two feels complicated. It just feels wrong. Maybe you should just cancel. Jimin’s a good guy, though, and he doesn’t deserve this. It’s better for him to find someone who’s sure and knows what she wants—not you, sitting in the bathroom contemplating where you and your ex stand.
“Stop being so awkward, man,” Taehyung says, playfully pulling at Jungkook’s leg under the table.
“I’m trying,” Jungkook whines, his frustration evident. “It’s hard.”
“You can talk up a whole court, but you can’t with Y/N?” Taehyung teases, raising an eyebrow.
“Plus, it’s not that hard,” Jian chimes in, pulling Jungkook’s attention away from his spiraling thoughts. She should be the only one he takes advice from, he thinks. “Just show up and put in effort in the conversation, and she’ll warm up to you.”
“See how she warmed up to you when you asked about her work?” Taehyung adds, and Jungkook starts to get it. “All Y/N wants is for you to show up and be there to listen and care.” Taehyung feels like a relationship counsellor right now; he should get paid for this. If their relationship works out, Jungkook should definitely pay him.
Jian places a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder to shut him up, a knowing smile on her face. “But don’t forget to be the guy she fell in love with,” she adds, her tone serious yet encouraging.
Jungkook sighs, feeling the weight of their words. He knows he needs to be himself, the version of him that made you smile, the one who could make you laugh until your sides hurt. But the fear of messing things up again looms over him like a dark cloud.
“I think I’ll get that one,” you say, pointing at the dish you’ve chosen.
“Alright,” the waiter notes it down, his pen scratching against the notepad.
Jungkook leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. “They have banana pudding on the menu,” he whispers, knowing how much you love it.
“Really?” Your face lights up with excitement as you turn to the waiter. “How good is your banana pudding?”
“The best,” he boasts with a confident grin.
“Then I’ll have that instead,” you say, your smile widening as you place your order.
Once the waiter walks away, you glance back at Jungkook, who has been momentarily distracted by the pianist playing softly in the corner. But as soon as he feels your gaze on him, his eyes shift to meet yours. The moment feels electric, and you find yourself wanting to look away, but you hold your ground, challenging yourself to stay connected.
Jungkook watches you softly, waiting for you to speak. “You remember how much I like banana pudding?” you ask, your voice light and teasing. It feels a bit childish, and you want to slap yourself for it, but Jungkook seems to be enjoying this playful banter.
“Of course,” he replies, his familiar bunny smile spreading across his face. “Remember that time you almost killed me for eating the last one?”
You burst into laughter, the memory flooding back. “You should’ve known better,” you say, shaking your head in mock disapproval.
“I should’ve,” he admits, chuckling along with you.
Taehyung, sitting across the table, can’t help but feel giddy as he watches the two of you smile at each other. It’s like a scene from a romantic movie, and he’s here for it. The atmosphere around the table feels lighter, filled with warmth and nostalgia.
“Y/N, how did you travel?” Jian asks, reminding you that the night has to come to an end.
“Uber,” you reply, a hint of reluctance in your voice.
“So you’re going back with an Uber?” she clarifies, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” you say, because what other options do you have?
Taehyung turns to look at Jungkook, who seems as lost as ever. “Maybe Jungkook can drop you off,” he suggests, a hopeful tone in his voice.
Why hadn’t you thought of that? You smile sheepishly at the idea, but it makes you sweat a little. “No, I’m good. Don’t want to burden you,” you say, trying to brush it off.
“You’re not a burden,” Jungkook says immediately, his voice firm as he hears you call yourself that. You’d never be a burden to him. “Plus, it’s late, and Ubers aren’t all that safe. Let me drive you home.”
You want to say, “How sure are you that you’ll be safe with him?” but it would just sound stupid. Jungkook has never once made you feel unsafe. In fact, the thought of being alone with him feels comforting. It’d be a good chance to save some money—or more like have more time with Jungkook. “Okay, sure,” you say, not wanting to argue.
“My car’s over there,” Jungkook points to the opposite side of the parking lot, and you realize you should probably say your goodbyes now.
“It was nice seeing you, Y/N,” Jian says as she pulls you into a hug. She hopes you and Jungkook get back together so that she can spend more time with you.
“Nice to see you too,” you hug her back. “Say hi to the baby for me.”
“If she’ll understand,” Jian laughs.
“I’m sure Taehyung will communicate,” you throw Taehyung a side-eye, and he narrows his eyes back at you, feigning offense.
He hugs you tightly. “Thanks for coming,” he says, and the embrace gives you flashbacks of the time he hugged you at the hospital.
You pat his back. “No problem. I enjoyed it.”
“I’ll call you; please don’t avoid me,” he says, his voice earnest.
You raise your hands in defense. “I never do.” But as you think about it, would you ignore him if he called? It would be weird, right? Especially not knowing where you and Jungkook are going. If you and Jungkook don’t work out (you can’t believe you’re even thinking about it), does that mean you wouldn’t have to talk to Taehyung or Jian again?
“Goodnight, bro,” Taehyung says to Jungkook.
“Goodnight,” Jungkook replies.
“Take her straight home, okay?” Taehyung lifts a warning finger to Jungkook, and you and he scoff.
“Taehyung, let’s go,” Jian says, pulling him away, and you all laugh. If Taehyung hadn’t pushed Jungkook, would he even be in this position? A position of opportunity to make up for everything or at least show you that he’s trying.
Once the goodbyes are over, you walk to Jungkook’s car, and you can’t help but bulge your eyes at how beautiful it is. He opens the door for you. “Thank you,” you say politely. Just when you think he’s about to close the door, he leans in.
“I’m sorry, can I take a call?” he asks, and the height difference, along with the way he looks down at you, makes you want to melt into a puddle.
“Don’t let me stop you,” you manage to say, trying to keep up with your racing mind.
You watch him walk in front of the car and further away. You can’t help but wonder who could be on the other end. Work? Taehyung? Or maybe a girlfriend? You never did find out if he’s single or if he’s been out. You’re sure he has. It’s not like you weren’t. But you feel the same type of incompletion when you spend time with other people.
The thought of him talking to some girlfriend right now sends a swarm of moths fluttering in your stomach. You won’t ask; it’s none of your business.
No matter how much your mind wanders, you can’t deny that you’re ogling how huge Jungkook has gotten. His shoulders, his muscles, which his shirt does a bad job of hiding. He’s built like he eats, sleeps, and drinks the gym. And damn, you’re getting flustered just by looking at him.
Watching how he talks on the phone, how he places his tattooed hand into his pocket, makes him look so incredibly hot. Wait, tattoos? How did you miss them? You squint to get a closer look. He actually does have them, and they make him even more attractive.
What’s wrong with you? Get it together. You’re literally drooling. When you laugh at yourself, it must have been loud because Jungkook turns to look at you. You smile, trying to prove to him that you’re okay, and he smiles back. Why do you feel so giddy? It’s just a smile.
You allow him to finish his call, which doesn’t last long. He walks back to the car, sliding into the driver’s seat, his thighs constricting against the material of his pants.
“You ready to go?” he asks, his voice low and casual, but you can feel the tension in the air.
“Yeah,” you reply, your throat suddenly dry.
He starts the car, and the engine’s purr matches the rhythm of your racing heart. As you drive through the city, the night lights paint your face in a soft glow, and you take a moment to admire the view outside the window. The city feels alive, vibrant, and you can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you.
Jungkook glances over at you, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “You look great tonight,” he says, almost too quietly, but you catch it. His fingers drum against the steering wheel, a nervous habit you’ve come to recognize.
“Thanks,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up, but the red light from the traffic stop hides it well.
“You still have that necklace?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the dainty silver chain around your neck.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, instinctively holding onto it a little longer. He had gotten it for you during your honeymoon phase, but you stopped wearing it when your relationship got rocky. You hadn’t even realized you put it on for tonight.
“I enjoyed seeing you tonight,” he says, his heart pounding as he takes a chance. He did enjoy being in your presence, but did you feel the same? He can’t help but question where you stand. Do you want what he does? But he can’t ask.
Your focus drifts back to the window as you enjoy the ambiance of his car. How many women has he had in here? Were they just as at peace as you are right now? You don’t like to bother yourself with the thought, but your brain and heart are in tandem, and they won’t let it go.
The thought of him being with someone else ignites a flicker of jealousy within you. You breathe in and out, trying to calm yourself. You can’t be upset; it’s not your place. You’ve never considered yourself a jealous person. You were always sure of Jungkook’s love for you, and so was he. So there wasn’t much to be jealous of. But once your marriage and relationship began to falter, you doubted everything—the kisses, the touches, the time spent together, the ‘I love you’s. It all became foggy, the memories a blur.
And it wasn’t because they weren’t there or that you didn’t still feel deeply for him, but because there was no one to assure you they actually existed. Were you lying to yourself about Jungkook’s love? Was he lying to you?
Why would he marry you then?
You had no anchor to keep you there, only questions—questions that would never be answered at the time and questions you’d never bring yourself to ask now.
“We don’t have to talk, you know,” you say, the sentence coming out in a whisper, laced with fear, not anger. Fear that if you talk, you might end up saying more than you want to.
So, he just drives. The silence and tension consume you like fire. Not even Jimin’s text asking when he can pick you up can bring you any joy that it would have if Jungkook never existed. But he does; he exists so vividly, like a looming cloud carrying the sign of a storm—a storm that’s about to consume all the walls you’ve been building for the past four years.
Jimin: When can I pick you up?
Jungkook sees you stare at your phone like you’re about to throw it out the window. He wants to ask who you’re talking to that’s got your face in a knot, but he chooses to keep his eyes on the road this time. He can only imagine who’s texting you at this hour. Jimin? He grips the wheel tighter.
Y/N: Don’t.
Jimin: ???
Y/N: Don’t come.
Y/N: You’re a great guy, Jimin. And I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone who’s in a more stable place for you. But it’s not me. I’m really sorry. I enjoyed my time with you, but I just have a lot going on.
Jimin: An ex?
You pause and glance at Jungkook, who has one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the window sill. He doesn’t turn back to look at you.
You: I guess so.
Not really, more like just yourself.
You: I’m really sorry I got you into this. You’re a good guy.
Jimin: You’re good too. Thanks for not leading me on.
Jimin: Wish you the best.
You feel sick. You and Jimin hadn’t gone far, barely held hands . But he was hoping for more, and you feel terrible for it. You liked him; he was definitely someone you’d go for if, well… if the man driving you home right now wasn’t so much on your mind.
You: You too.
The temperature in the car shifts drastically. One moment, you’re comfortable in the warmth of the moment, and the next, you feel a chill creeping in, as if the universe is reminding you that this night is coming to an end. Just a little longer, you think. You want to hold onto this feeling, this connection, but you know it’s fleeting.
“Thanks for driving,” you say as you pull into your apartment complex, trying to break the silence that feels heavier than before.
“Not a problem,” Jungkook replies, his voice steady, but you can sense the tension beneath it. The night is over, right? It’s over. When you leave now, you’ll never see him again. Good. It’s good, right?
But it’s not over for him. As you walk toward your building, you turn to find him following closely behind you.
“Where are you going?” you ask, half-expecting him to say he has a girlfriend living in the same building that he wants to visit, and that’s the only reason he even drove you here. Your mind races with insecurities.
“Walking you up to your apartment,” he says, his tone firm yet gentle. He looks nervous, and you can see it in the way he fidgets with his hands.
“I’ll be fine,” you insist, pulling your coat closer to your body as you watch him stand there, not budging.
Just as you have a stare-down, the bush to your far left stirs. Someone stumbles out, clearly intoxicated, struggling to stand. The universe must not be on your side. The neighborhood doesn’t have drunkards roaming around much, or ever. But tonight, it seems, must be your lucky day.
You turn to Jungkook, and he gives you a look that tells you he’s not backing down.
“For my peace of mind?” he asks, his voice softening, and it almost makes you want to give in.
“Fine,” you relent, feeling a mix of annoyance and gratitude.
With the same tension and silence, you both step into the elevator to your place. As the numbers light up, Jungkook speaks, “This is a nice place.” He genuinely seems to admire it, and you can tell he’s trying to make conversation. It’s good to know you’re in a safe place.
“Yeah,” you reply, but your mind is racing. What kind of place does he live in? A mansion? A penthouse? Or just a simple apartment? What’s his décor like if he ever got that far?
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. You step out, and Jungkook follows closely behind. The hallway feels long, and the silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words.
You tap in your code and step into your warm space, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Still standing by the door is Jungkook, and still holding the door open is you. Is this what you two have become? Cowards. Liars. Pretenders?
“Um, I guess this is goodnight,” you say, your eyes glued to the hinges, avoiding the weight of his gaze. How long are you going to hold on?
“I guess so,” he replies, his voice distant as he stares into your home absentmindedly. You can feel the tension thickening the air between you, and it’s suffocating. Jungkook knows he won’t get another chance to see you again if he leaves without saying anything. There’s only so far the universe can go for him.
“Can I talk to you, though?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost pleading.
You sigh, feeling the familiar frustration bubbling up. “Not this again, Jungkook.” Isn’t this what you want, though? For him to talk, to communicate? What are you fighting?
“It’s alright that your friend grilled me in court; you don’t have to apologize,” you add, trying to keep your tone steady.
“It’s not fine,” he insists, his eyes narrowing slightly, determination flickering in his gaze. “He shouldn’t have. He was just trying to poke at me, and it’s not fair that you had to be in the middle.”
You don’t speak, mainly because you want to see how far this will go and how much he has to say. You can feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, and you’re not sure if you want to catch them or let them fall.
“I know I’ve been a shithouse of a guy to you, especially in the past,” he continues, his voice cracking slightly. “But I’ve changed, Y/N, and I hope you can see that.”
Do you? Do you see how his walls break down to welcome you? He could get on his knees to show you, and the thought sends a shiver down your spine. He holds onto your door for stability, as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.
“Jungkook…” you start, but the words get caught in your throat. You want to believe him, to see the change he claims to have made, but the scars of the past are still fresh in your mind.
“Just hear me out,” he urges, his voice low and earnest. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But I want to try. I want to be better for you, for us. I miss you, Y/N. I miss us.”
"A lot of things should have been done differently by me in our relationship and i acknowledge that." When he finishes his sentences, he looks at you. He’s eyes are filled with anger but not to you, to the memory of that day and all the guilt he feels.
"Thank you." You don’t know what more to say, it’s not your turn to talk. So, you just hold your arms to your body.
"It's what I should’ve done, its what I always should've done." He bows his head. He gives up on holding back. He’s tired, and it’s fucked for him to hide from his solace.
Sniffle.
If it’s not you he can cry to, then who?
"Jungkook,-" your heart sinks when you hear him sniffle. He’s crying. You can be distant all you want but you can’t take seeing him cry.
You close the space between you and cup his cheek. You’re tired of fighting too.
He leans into your touch and slowly wraps his hand around your wrist, praying you keep it right there.
His wide eyes stare down at you filled with tears that threaten to fall.
"I'm sorry yn. I'm really sorry and I wish I could go back in time and Change things and be better for you, for us." They fall, yours too.
"I wasn't good and I understand why you did what you did.” He doesn’t even want to call by name. “It was me, I was the selfish one and I regret it." he pulls your hand to bring it to his lips and place a kiss on your pulse. "I regret it so fucking bad yn"
"come here.” you pull him inside and shut the door.
“I was so was stupid. And I feel shitty for even trying to justify it but I was stupid. And a dick." He kisses your wrist as you use your other hand to push back the hair that sticks to his tear stained face.
"We were both stupid." You won’t say you didn’t have your bad moments.
"Not you. You were always right and I wish I listened to you and maybe we'd be in a better position."
He closes into you, bringing your foreheads together. Instincts. You just have to do what feels natural.
"Maybe"
“Definitely,” he whispers, brushing his nose against yours, and your mouth parts instinctively. “I’m really sorry, bunny. I really am.”
The nickname he used when you were together hangs in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what once was. It used to make your heart race, but now it feels like a ghost of a feeling you can’t quite grasp anymore.
your mind has no clue where to place its home.
You breathe in the warmth of each other’s presence, lips hovering just a breath apart, the tension palpable. He gently pulls your wrist behind you, guiding your arm to wrap around his neck, while his hand finds its place on your waist. Your palm rests against his heart, feeling its frantic rhythm, a silent plea for connection. You’re wrinkling his shirt, but it’s the last thing on his mind.
His gaze is locked onto your lips, a silent yearning begging to be fulfilled. What’s stopping him? Is this what you want? Do you want him back like he wants you? The questions swirl in your mind, a tempest of doubt and desire. Have you thought about him every single day since you last saw each other? No—since the day you divorced. Did you ever truly stop thinking about the moments you shared? The late-night kisses, the laughter, the way you both craved each other’s presence like air.
His lower lip brushes against yours, and a shiver runs down your spine, igniting a flicker of longing deep within you. “I want to kiss you so bad,” he pleads, his voice thick with emotion. “Can I kiss you?”
A nod is all you can produce. You want to, you’re pulled to.
And so, he does. The moment your lips meet, it’s like a wave of relief crashing over you. He’s your relief, your solace in a world that feels chaotic and uncertain. As your lips intertwine, you wish for nothing more than to stay in this moment forever, to linger in the warmth of his embrace.
You taste exactly as he remembers—like peace, if peace had a flavor. Sweet and intoxicating, he doesn’t want to part from you. He deepens the kiss, pulling you even closer by your waist, and your hand crumples his shirt tighter, as if anchoring yourself to him.
God, you missed this. You missed him. A tear rolls down your cheek, a mix of joy and sorrow, a release of all the pent-up emotions you’ve been holding back.
But then, as if the universe is cruelly reminding you of reality, he pulls away. for a kiss that was supposed to give you an answer it brings more doubt.
The air thick with unspoken words.
“I missed you so much."
You would say you have been the confused type. From what your university major should be to who you want to be, you’ve never known. The path ahead has always felt murky, a winding road with no clear destination. But one thing you did know was that you wanted to be with Jungkook.
That's what younger you wanted anyway.
The dreams you spun in your mind were filled with laughter, love, and the warmth of his embrace. But now, as you sit here, grappling with the weight of adulthood, you find yourself asking what the adult version of you truly wants.
Amidst all the turmoil, what you really desire is to be happy—to be set free from the guilt of your previous choices. You want to shed the layers of regret that have built up over the years, the “what ifs” that haunt your thoughts like shadows.
Younger you always thought Jungkook would be the one to give you that happiness. You really wanted him to be that. The thought of his smile, the way he made you feel alive, filled you with hope. But now, as you reflect on everything that has transpired, you’d be lying to yourself if you said the thought of being with him again didn’t scare you.
The fear is palpable, a tight knot in your stomach. What if you opened your heart to him again, only to find that the past still lingers, that the wounds haven’t healed? What if the love you once shared has transformed into something unrecognizable? The idea of vulnerability feels daunting, and the stakes seem higher now than they ever were before.
You think about the late-night conversations, the dreams you shared, and the way he used to look at you as if you were the only person in the world. But you also remember the pain, the misunderstandings, and the way everything fell apart. It’s a delicate balance, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to tip the scales in either direction.
As you sit in the quiet of your thoughts, you realize that the journey to happiness isn’t just about finding the right person; it’s about finding yourself first. You need to understand what you truly want, independent of anyone else. Can you be happy on your own? Can you forgive yourself for the choices you’ve made?
Maybe all you need is to forgive yourslef and him.
The questions swirl in your mind, and you know that the answers won’t come easily. But one thing is clear: you owe it to yourself to face the truth.
Maybe it’s time to take a step back and reflect on what you need, not just what you want. You need to find your own happiness, to reclaim your identity outside of Jungkook and the love you once shared.
And yet, as you think about him, a flicker of hope ignites within you. Perhaps there’s a way to navigate this complicated landscape, to find a balance between your past and your present. Maybe, just maybe, you can rediscover the love you once had, but this time with a clearer understanding of who you are and what you truly want. But the hope is only a maere flicker of light. not enough to brighten the darkenss you've been swallowed into.
“i don’t think can.” You cry on Rosie’s lap as she pets your hair. She just listens.
“And you don’t have to.”
You sob.
“why did he have to come back.” You’ve been this confused in a while. During the years you were sure you hated jungkook. But now you realize you were just sad. Why did he have to come back into your life and why did he have to kiss you.
“you don’t have to get back with him.” She repeats.
“ I know. But why do i want to but not want to again.”
“it’s because you’re just a little hopeful.” You are aren’t you? “is that so bad.”
Rosie shakes her head when your teary eyes look up at her. “nope. He was the love of your life. Your freaking first one.”
“But it’s time to grow up.”
Even if you did work it out, how the hell would you marry him again. Would you even get as far as to marrying again. You'd hate to get back together only to fail again.
How would you face his parents. And what if they still hate you. How would you go on.
It really is time to grow up.
“Thanks for coming.” You smile.
"No problem.” He pulls out his chair, the sound of it scraping against the floor echoing.
you planned on having a simple conversation in a cafe. which makes it easier for both of you to leave if things get awkward.
“Honestly, I never expected you to reach out.” The words slip out,.
You had planned to ghost him, to just forget everything. But after talking to Rosie, she encouraged you to talk to him. To seek closure instead of running away. You'd be missing the point if you did ghost him.
“Just need to get some stuff off my chest.” You chuckle awkwardly, the air stiffens immediately after.
Jungkook’s eyes widen, his heart racing at the possible implication of your words.
Before you can gather your thoughts, he cuts in, “I just want to apologize for kissing you that night.”
You shake your head, nostalgia and discomfort washing over you. Why does the memory of that moment feel weird now? “You don’t have to. I wanted it too.” you can't help but feel guilty for it. “Um, I just wanted to clear something up about that too.”
“I feel like I told you something I shouldn’t have that night.” His brow furrows in confusion, and you can see the gears turning in his mind. “I won’t lie; I did miss the feeling, but it also felt like a lie.”
He taps his fingers nervously on his thigh.
“What do you mean?” he asks, voice only able to ask questions
“I mean, there’s nothing here.” You gesture between the two of you. “I appreciate your apology, but it doesn’t change much.”
You avoid his gaze, but his eyes remain locked on yours.
“I’m still hurt, honestly.” When your eyes finally meet his, you can barely seem to read them. If he could hold you, you know he would. “And we’d be lying to each other if we said things could be fixed just like that.”
It feels like a death sentence, and you’re the judge. Sentencing him to his fate.
He sighs, not able to form any thoughts. “I understand.” He does, but the understanding comes with a hurt.
“Because at the end of the day, I’d have to meet your parents again, and I’m sure they wouldn’t love me overnight.” Your chuckle is sweet but bitter. “I don’t want to put myself in that position again.”
He inhales sharply, the air thick with regrets. He’s always been prepared to face judgment, but this—this is a different kind. “I’m sorry that they hurt you so much. And that I did too.”
“I know you are.” You want to rush through this, to just get over with it. “I just wanted to clear things up and make sure we’re on the same page.”
Neither of you bothers to order anything; the thought of food feels heavy and unappetizing.
“Yeah, we definitely are.” He laughs, but the sound is sorrowful.
He knew it all along. There’s only so far, the universe can go for him.
It seems Taehyung was wrong; the universe didn’t bring you together to get back together but to part ways on a better note. The hatred and disdain that once was your relationship have only served to hurt you both.
“Let’s end things on a good note this time, Jungkook.” Your voice is soft, almost a whisper.
Meeting you again has him understanding what he once didn't realize, the mistakes he made, and now he seeks to apologize for them. There are so many “I wish” statements he could say, but isn’t about that. Sometimes, it’s simply just too late.
It’s a reality he has to face now.
“Maybe that’s all we needed,” he jokes, but the laughter feels uncomfortable.
You chuckle lightly, “I guess so.” You can feel the tension in your chest begin to ease, the heaviness lifting just a little. His presence, once a source of turmoil, now feels more tolerable, like a bittersweet memory you can finally face.
"I won’t lie; I’ll have to miss you all over again." His smile is simple.
As you slide out of your seat, he stands too, and the world around you fade into the background. It’s only when you reach his car that you find the courage to pull him into a hug. His warm arms wrap around you, and the familiar scent of his cologne pulls you in like a comforting blanket.
"I’ll always love you; you know." His voice is muffled against your coat, and the words hang in the cold air.
"Jungkook, don’t do that to yourself." You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, but he squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go.
Maybe he crossed a line he shouldn’t have. Maybe if he hadn’t followed you up to your apartment that night, if he hadn’t kissed you, if he hadn’t over-apologized—
“Don’t overthink it,” you whisper, trying to soothe his possible thoughts.
“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault, okay?” You try to keep a smile on your face. “Be glad we got to redo this and at least not hate each other anymore.”
“That’s if you don’t hate me.” You flash him a teasing smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
he smiles too.
“I actually do hate you,” he jokes.
“I hate you too."
A/N: it is what it is. PAAAAAIN.
#fanfic#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jeon jungguk#jungkook x y/n#bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook au#jeon jeongguk#jungkook fanfic#jeongguk smut#bts jeongguk#jeongguk x reader#jeongguk fic#jungkook scenarios#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#jungkook x you#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook oneshot#keen li#bts angst#angst
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Atsumu Miya: Second Choice
Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]
Summary: ~2.2k, fluff
• You were never first choice, so it comes as a surprise when he notices your presence before anyone else.
Warnings: None
>>>>——————————>
It was always the same, you'd watched as people flocked to beauty, straight past you every time. In reality when you became friends with Sachiko it was because she had a great personality, you couldn't have possibly predicted she'd become the most beautiful and popular girl in school by the time you'd reached Inarizaki High.
Regardless of her sparkling status, she remained your best friend and you'd usually be found together throughout the school premises along with anyone else who joined you at the start of first year.
When the Volleyball team grew more intoxicating, it was Sachiko who'd excitedly dragged you along to one of their home training matches. It's where you first laid eyes upon the famous Miya twins, a vicious team of spiker and setter with a serve worthy of award among them. Already they had personal fans and the cheer squad screaming their praises, you're surprised they didn't get mauled in the hallways.
Now you'd seen them, you recognised them in school and they apparently had space to breathe aside from the odd confession here and there. You'd regularly seen that with Sachiko though, she'd often be either pulled to the side or you'd bear witness to some lovestruck soul gushing their heart out for her.
It was humbling in a way, you were the one who goes unnoticed but notices everything. Including if feelings were reciprocated, and you're certain you deducted gossip before it even became that, you'd been getting accurate in predicting things lately. However, you never predicted one of them to notice you.
Especially him.
"Hey, ya in one of my classes right?" In honesty you didn't even realise it was you this voice was addressing since Sachiko lingered by your side, not until a careful tap drew your attention to the blonde twin rather than your locker.
"Huh? Oh I think so, it hasn't been long enough to learn everyone's name yet. You're the volleyball player though."
"Ah, have ya seen me play? Like it?" His head tilted in curiosity, proud smirk upon his lips.
"You were really good, you have great form when you serve." With that you nodded to him, slipping on your shoes and walking off with your best friend quickly following in tow.
"Woah— wait up!" You didn't even look back in the swarm of leaving students. "I didn't get yer name..."
———
It wasn't until a week or so later did he 'confidently' interact with you again, this time his call far more effective in hailing your attention.
"(L/n) (Y/n)!"
Immediately you spun to the origin, finding none other than Miya Atsumu dodging a group of fangirls rather effortlessly on his way to you.
"You know my name."
"Yeah 'course. You know who I am so it's only fair." It was surefire charisma, one you'd soon extinguish.
"Miya Osamu isn't it?"
"Ye—Hey?! YA GOTTA BE KIDDIN'!"
"'Tsumu shut ya mouth!" The namesake twin glared harshly at his counterpart, quickly flashing a calmer look when you'd addressed him.
"Ah, hey Miya-san. I apologise, that was my fault for winding your brother up."
"Dumbass has control of his own mouth." Osamu politely assured, meanwhile Atsumu reclaimed your peripheral with a childish pout.
"So ya knew ma name all along and decided to be freakin' mean about it? On our second meetin' too."
"I couldn't resist, you're so cute when you're mad."
"I'm— oh ya think I'm cute?" Atsumu stammered slightly, your smirk only widening upon noting the crimson tips of his ears. Honesty leaving your lips soon after.
"I think you're both handsome, as does a majority of the school body. See you Miya-san and Miy—"
"Call me Atsumu!"
"See you in class, Atsumu." You actually looked back this time, an unfamiliar and unexpected feeling flourishing within you.
———
Part of you wandered if it’d be different this time, maybe you’d found someone who was there for you and not Sachiko. Just this once. You’d spoken more in class, studied together, traded snacks, and genuinely became friends over the course of two months.
Ironically it was the same blonde who tugged you from your reverie at the your locker where you’d first spoken.
"Yer friends with Sachiko aren't ya?"
This was it, the moment you realised he was just like all others and for the first time in a long while, you were truly disappointed.
"Yes I am, and she is amazing."
"I'm aware, could ya introduce me?" He’d spoked so casually, completely unawares of the charade you donned.
"What? Too scared to introduce yourself?" Atsumu was taken aback by your mockery, smirk growing as you persisted. "She doesn't bite y'know, that's my job."
This was the second time you'd left him speechless, slamming your locker door and disappearing into the halls with a wave.
From then on you'd see them happily talking to one another, it was hard seeing them together, amusing considering you'd only known the blonde not even half the year, yet you'd liked him more than you considered possible.
The first time you'd walked into the classroom finding the pair conversing at her desk, it was like Atsumu was desperately trying to convince her of something. It was only for a brief moment but when the setter turned to see you with a suddenly concerned look, you realised you hadn't worn a facade. You were meant to smile, instead you must've looked saddened - briskly you offered a weak smirk, and span to leave the room with additional flare as to minimise suspicion.
You’d only made it three steps down the hallway when a grasp on your wrist limited your escape.
"Hey you okay?"
"Yes? Why wouldn't I be?" Came your upbeat response, even if he portrayed a careful worrisome look on his handsome features.
"Ya... ya looked upset."
"Really? Are you sure?"
"I'm observant y'know, gotta be fer volleyball so yeah, I noticed your little slip." He was more forward this time, gesturing to you with a tilt of his head - even if he was head over heels for Sacchan, at least he still genuinely cared about you.
"It's nothing, just realised I've got a test today and that's depressing enough." You thought it was acceptably convincing, though the calculating gaze he'd locked onto yours made you reconsider.
“(Y/n) I know I can be annoyin’ but I’ll do anything I can to help y—“
“I’m fine.” You instantly corrected, reaffirmation following. “I’m fine, Atsumu.”
A gentle pat on his chest told him not to worry, and the nod you gave said you wanted to be alone. So, he let you walk away, your wrist slipping from his grip.
———
Even weirder than the smitten pair hanging out was that your conversations with Sachiko seemed to revolve around him too. Which by your deductions, meant he’d certainly made more of an impression on her than anyone else recently. Maybe Atsumu really had a shot with her…
"Atsumu is so hot isn't he?"
"I guess he keeps in shape, he has to if he wants to improve his skills."
"Uh yes... his hair suits him though, brings out the colour of his eyes~" She gleamed, searching for your reaction and once more her face dramatically dropped at the deadpan reply.
"Makes him easier to differentiate from Osamu."
"True, but I'm asking if you find him attractive?!" Her impatience had gotten the better of her, voice raised slightly out of desperation.
"Isn't that a question you should ask yourself? I haven't heard you go on about a boy this much since middle school." You quipped, raising a quizzical brow at her.
"It's not like th—"
"Oh hey! Sachiko, (Y/n), you wanna come to practice today?" Atsumus’ hollering tone interrupted the conversation, the blonde strolling into your classroom like he belonged there.
"Yes, we'd love to." Sachiko of course was ecstatic to agree, why would she say no since he’s ’so attractive’. Yourself on the other hand had replicated the Thor meme perfectly…
"Would we though?"
"Yeah ya would! C'mon~" You hadn't the chance to protest further when Atsumus' hands clamped your shoulders steering you in the direction of the gymnasium with a giggling Sachiko skipping behind.
———
When Atsumu had asked you to meet him after school before practice started toward the end of the year, you expected something food related or about homework answers, not whatever this was.
Here he stood, flowers in hand and apparently a homemade bento box offered to you with a growing blush painting his handsome features and an aura of flustering about him which was unusual in itself.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm— isn't it obvious?!"
"I have literally no idea what's going through your thick skull, Sachiko will like the flowers though." You answered honestly, crossing your arms.
"They're not for her!"
"Oh... Suna...?"
Atsumus brows furrowed at your wit, shaking his head with a huff.
"Alright ya got me, they're for Sachiko. Yer gonna deliver them since yer her best friend. Thanks and make sure ya eat some of the bento 'cuz there's stuff yer will like in it. Later!" He basically threw the flowers at you and pushed the bento box into your chest prior to storming toward the exit.
You stood dumbfounded, flicking between the two items when he placed his forehead against the door with a defeated sigh and spun on his heel.
“Go! Go on, the team are here and I don’t want ya getting hit with a face full of leather and petals.” He’d stubbornly commented, ushering you out of the gym.
Still, you shouldered your sadness, wearing false confidence like your favourite outfit as you went to find your friend (completely oblivious to the embarrassed mess whining to his teammates inside).
Sachiko squealed when she saw you, leaving her work unattended and rushing to your side admiring your haul.
"It finally happened! Oh my goodness!"
"Yeah yeah, blondie came through congratulations." You boredly spoke, placing the items down whilst she basically vibrated with pure joy.
"Congratulations indeed! Are you happy?"
"Eh. He did say we should share the lunch."
"That's... weird?" Sachikos’ prior energy disappeared as she looked to you in confusion.
"I know, that's what I thought. Apparently there's things I like in it."
"Well obviously. Atsumu made it for you."
"No, he made it for you."
A moment of silence passed, yourself and Sachiko locked in a puzzled stare off.
"Nah, let's be honest, Osamu probably made it~" You dismissively waved your hand once placing the items on her desk, although it was only you who found humour in the situation.
"No (Y/n) I'm serious! Atsumu has been asking me about you and your preferences for months and I've been super excited about it. He even wanted me to find out if you liked him or not —of course IF I found out, I would've kept it to myself— but he really likes you."
"I thought he was into you, I mean everyone is into you." You adamantly justified, as if it explained everything but Sachiko was just as passionate.
"Not him, why do you think he keeps asking you to practices or bugging you every 5 minutes?"
"To get close to you? I don't know."
"No! To get close to you!"
Widened eyes and a look of pure shock told Sachiko her words had finally resonated with you, the truth burned brightly and she could only smile as you ran.
Abandoned were the flowers as you dashed through the halls and came to a skidding halt before the gymnasium - fingertips hesitantly pausing against the door upon hearing Atsumus' cursing whines.
"I didn't even get to say! They just ran off to Sachiko!"
“Ya literally said ‘Go’.” Osamus voice maybe?
“Yeah well, I don’t ever wanna walk away from (Y/n), but it feels like they’re always walking away from me…” Atsumu trailed off, more emotion than you thought lacing his words.
"Maybe ya shouldn't have lied?" That was definitely Arans’ blunt advisory tone.
"I had no choice! They were lookin' at me with their stupid pretty eyes and askin' if it was for Sacchan and I didn't wanna disappoint 'em."
"Yer an idiot." Osamu gladly highlighted, the perfect moment to walk in and make your presence known you decided.
"I know! But—"
"Atsumu?" At the sound of your call, the entity of the team turned in your direction, the setter being the first to respond.
"Huh?! (Y/n) what are you doing here?"
Osamu and the rest of Inarizaki seemed to understand the underlying tension and were quick to evacuate the area.
"I came to tell you that Sachiko liked the flowers." You awkwardly started, Atsumu running fingers through his hair with a quiet voice.
"Oh, right."
"As did I, and I think I'd like to get you something in return."
"Eh?"
"She told me what was going on." You filled in, hands behind your back fiddling with your fingers.
"She's lying! I do not like you at all, let alone find you attractive or anything!"
Much like you predicted, he'd jumped to conclusions and had inadvertently dropped himself in it and exposed the truth Sachiko had enclosed which earned your witty reply.
"Funny, I never mentioned anything about liking me. That’s good to know~"
"Wait— then what?" Atsumu defused, utterly confused and blushing.
"And it's a shame, I was about to confess my feelings for you but I see there's no need since you 'don't like me at all'." You shrugged haphazardly, a hint of sarcasm lacing your tone but it was your statement that revitalised his spark. Enough to abruptly skid in front of you with a commendable justification when you’d started to turn around.
"You still can, nothin' to lose and all that." A half smile was sent to you, hazel eyes meeting yours. “And please, don’t walk away from me this time.”
"I didn’t want— I mean I—“ A wistful sigh escaped you, confession imminent. “I really like you Atsumu, you're both an incredible player and a cool person so I’m glad I got to tell you that.”
“I like ya too (Y/n)! So much, and I feel more confident playing when ya come and watch. Yer smile really hypes me up y’know. If yer up for it, I’d love to spend more time with ya.”
"Yeah, I’d like that."
—
That evening, he’d offered to walk you home and there was still one thing you wanted to say after all that.
“Hey Atsumu?” A hum signified his attention. “Thank you for noticing me."
"Noticing ya?"
"Yeah, I just… I appreciate it."
"No I mean, noticing ya? I haven't noticed anyone else since I met ya."
<——————————<<<<
[ Masterlist ]
#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu oneshot#miya atsumu imagines#miya atsumu imagine#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu oneshot#anime x reader#anime imagine#atsumu fluff#atsumu x reader#haikyuu fluff#hq atsumu
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I like the scent of people but I hate the scent of sex
Like all participants can have showered until just five minutes before, done a deep clean doesn't matter
""Not all odors are bad," Sherry Ross, MD, an OB-GYN" yeah but what if I don't like them
Kids [endearing, joking] it's time to learn about your body and stis
Here's the source for the quote:
#legit smell might be my no 1 reason to never have sex again#i mean there are other issues that make me very much not fond of the idea that are more pressing#being ace and telling ppl because it's relevant in regards to boundaries has unfortunate effects. usually it's confusion (annoying#because then I have to answer questions or leave) and sometimes straight disinterest. which honestly is fine.#desinterest is definitely the best result#sometimes people don't get it but just accept it but that's honestly almost worse than the annoying questions because someone is avoiding#the topic instead of choosing to broaden their horizon. sure some people do their research privately but you can't do research about me#at least not about my sexuality. you can do quite some online searches about me lmao#and the third common reaction is fetishization. were people either assume I'm some innocent pure fantasy being and make up shit about me#(or about ace people in general) and if there ever is just one thing not framed well or perfectly nuanced that's a wild card for folks to#believe whatever they prefer to have heard and then if you correct anything there's more confusion and pain#because everything I say or say about myself turns into a fact fact. about everyone which is just not how it works#and the other form of fetishization (in my experience by allo cis women who have not made any experiences not getting fetishized by men#(and also misread me as a man. people's education about trans people is miserable. to a lot of cis people seemingly being non binary is an#on top label and still has you qualify as a man or woman underneath that. as if calling yourself non binary was like a lesbian calling#themselves butch. which obviously isn't an accurate comparison even if nb women and men exist.)#and with those types there comes a fetishization of being seen as respectful and not predatory which then makes you more sexually appealing#which idk kinda makes sense if you're dealing with a sexually active person that is interested in you as well#it does not make sense purely on the terms of you being attracted to someone who mentioned being ace to you. it is not about you. whether#said ace person is sexually active or not
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Hiiii can I request a selfcare day with the slashers? Like their s/o some how convinced them to do a mini spa day? Clay mask, manicure, etc? :))
OFFFCCC, THESE SLASHERS NEED TO TAKE A SPA DAY!!
Slashers: Patrick, Norman, Carrie, Chucky (Charles) & Tiffany, Sinclair brothers, Billy & Stu, The Lost Boys, Hannibal & Will, Jason, RZ Michael, Thomas & Bubba, & Billy Lenz & Brahms!!
(This was not really accurate, because I've never been to a spa before, also I really wrote this kinda fast so there might be a lot of repeated words, so I'm so sorry!!)
Slashers x S/O doing a mini spa day!
Patrick:
Patrick wanted a spa day with you after all his anger he put on people.. So he reserved an expensive spa place for you and him! You didn't know how to pay Patrick back for taking you to an expensive spa, but he just says that it doesn't matter, and that his darling needed a spa day too!
Patrick ordered manicures for you, clay masks, massages, etc! There was so much that Patrick ordered for both of you, and he decided to reserve the whole damn place too! Because he didn't want to be bothered by other people.
Once you were done with your manicures, he pulled you into the massage room, and the people started massaging. Your muscles were really tight, due to the stress, and now you feel so relaxed and so does Patrick too! After massages, Patrick pulled you into the sauna room and rubbed the clay onto your face, and then he did his. Feeling even more relaxed in the hot sauna, you and Patrick are so glad you guys decided to do a spa day off of things that stresses both of you out.
Norman:
You suggested to Norman about a little spa day with you and him, since you've seen him always stressed out about something. Of course Norman wanted to take a day off of work and have a mini spa day with you! Norman had things for the spa day, because he does own a motel for bath stuff too!
Luckily your own home has a bath tub that would fit both you in, so you started turning on warm or hot water. Norman got bath bombs, things to make the clay masks, etc! Norman was so ready for this little mini spa day with you!Norman plopped 1 or 2 bath bombs that smell like flowers that you love to smell, and started making the clay masks. You took the bowl from him and told him that he had to relax, and that you will do everything prepared for him.
Norman then nodded his head and took his clothes off, and went into the water. After you did the clay masks, you then said to Norman you'll be right back, because you are going to get something. You came back with two bowls, one with melted chocolate and one with strawberries! You then pulled a chair and a small foldable table and sat down, and you started massaging Norman's head praising him for how wonderful he is, and also feeding chocolate strawberries!
Carrie:
You and Carrie have been planning a spa day as an anniversary on the day you two became best friends, or being girlfriends! You two decided to go to a spa that was nearby in your neighborhood, and the usual people that know you two welcomed you both in! Because you two loved to get manicures from there!
You then told the person that was working at the front desk, that you and Carrie are gonna do a spa day! They immediately got their people to prepare for the spa, clay masks, etc!
Then your spa room was ready, you and Carrie both walked into the room and felt the humid air on your skin, just the perfect temperature! You both then went into the spa and immediately felt relaxed, you then put clay on your face and Carrie's, and you then massaged her back. Just a nice relaxing spa day with your bestie/girlfriend Carrie!
Chucky (Charles) & Tiffany:
You and Tiffany were planning to go to a spa for relaxation, but Chucky heard your conversation and wanted to tag along since he wanted to relax too. You invited Chucky too since you got paid on Friday for this special occasion for everyone to just relax!
Walking into the spa it felt really welcoming, the decoration, colors, everything! You and Tiffany were ready for the spa and everything, but Chucky didn't want to do spa stuff, he thinks it's only for women..
That's okay, you didn't want to force him into anything that you and Tiffany like! You two immediately got ready for the spa, skin routine, clay masks, etc! After you two were done doing your routine, you both then went into the spa and immediately felt relaxed! Chucky just watched you two have the time of your lives, happy that you both are having fun, even him too!
Sinclair Brothers: (Bo, Vincent, & Lester)
You decided to make a spa day for them without telling them about it, since they've always been stressed out about something. You got everything ready for the brother, the warm bath, clay masks, etc! Right now you are taking them to your spa, blindfolded. A little trip and hits from tree branches over there and here, until you all arrived!
You pulled their blindfolds over their heads, and they were amazed to see a steaming built spa, some sweets/food, and a lot of other things too! Both Lester and Bo immediately went into the steaming spa and felt relaxed, but Vincent was taking his time. All three of them are now in the spa, and you grab some sweets/food and drinks.
You were happy they liked what you have done, all three of them were so relaxed! You then told them that you got snacks for them, and immediately Lester came by and wanted you to hand feed them. You laughed, and started feeding him snacks, Bo and Vincent just got their snacks. Everything was perfect for everyone!
Billy & Stu:
These two love snooping around your room, for stuff.. They looked at your colorful calendar to see what plans you have for this week. They've seen 'pay bills,' 'pay electricity bills,' so many damn bills they thought. Until their eyes landed on a Saturday and they read it, 'Spa days with my boys!!'
Billy and Stu put on their "poker face" and totally did not read your calendar! They went downstairs to see you cooking, and felt bad because after seeing that your calendar was full of bills and other important things, they wanted to help you! Billy grabbed the wooden cooking spoon from your hand, and by your surprise you were about to say something until Stu walked you over the table and let you sit down.
Once it was Saturday, they were so ready for you to take them to the spa! You told them that you all will be going to the spa! Arriving at the spa, you have already made a reservation for a room, and these two already hopped into the spa! You took your sweet sweet time putting on your clay mask, and you hopped into the spa too! Billy and Stu then started making fun of you, because of the stuff that was on your face! Which yes you almost got out of the spa and went somewhere because of their rudeness, but they pulled you back in. Laughter just filling in the air, while making splashes everywhere in the spa!
The Lost Boys: (David, Dwayne, Paul, & Marko)
Since these vampires can't go out in the sun, you planned their spa at night! You made it a surprise, so you had to put on masks to cover their eyes so that they wouldn't peek. Everything was ready, the spa, snacks, etc!
You uncovered all their eyes and let them see! The boys looked around the place you did, and walked towards the hot spa. Paul and Marko already took off their clothes and went in, feeling relieved and relaxed. David and Dwayne think that the steaming water will burn them, but looking at Paul and Marko it didn't seem they were screaming in pain or anything, so they went in too!
All of the boys started splashing water at each other's faces, making messes, and just being boys! Once you came by with the snacks, they wanted you to feed them, so you did! All the boys thought that you were coming to the spa, but you said it was for them. They all said their thanks since you did so much work for your vampires! They love you so much that you took your time with the spa, and how you take care of them too!
Hannibal & Will:
You had to take these two to a spa, because Will is always stressed out, and Hannibal needs to take his mind off of his killing.. So you pulled Hannibal and Will into the car and drove off. They asked you where you were taking them, and you just answered with a 'somewhere fun'.
You then parked your car and got outside with Will and Hannibal. Hannibal and Will looked at the store and thought that you were taking them shopping, but once they walked inside it was one of those spa places! They saw you talking to a front desk lady, probably thinking that you were paying, which they tried to stop you from paying. You told them you have already paid a reservation, and that you told them to follow you!
Hannibal and Will felt bad that you paid for the reservation for them! You told them not to worry about anything and that they just needed to relax! So they took your word and took off their clothes, and went into the spa. You did the same thing, since you felt really stressed too. You all felt really relaxed afterwards, and these two decided to take you all out to an expensive restaurant since you paid for the spa!
Jason:
Jason loves to look at magazines during his free time, and his eyes came across a page about spa! Jason then came running to you feeling all giddy about it, and you thought it was an earthquake since the cabin was shaking!
Then it stopped once Jason came to you, Jason showed you why he came running down the hall to you, and you looked at what he was pointing at and saw he was pointing at a spa. Relaxed people having fun, snacks, clay masks, etc! So you told Jason you would do that for him! Jason shook his head, and signed in sign language that he wanted to help you with building the spa and everything else!
You and Jason started building a spa that was like the one in the magazine, but a little different! After building the spa, Jason worked on doing the snacks and you did the stuff you both need for the spa! Jason then worked on putting a filter for the spa water, because since the only water there is, it's the lake water. You then came outside seeing Jason already prepared the spa, snacks, and the decorations! After all that hard work, you both finally went into the spa and everything was perfect, just a romantic spa with Jason!
RZ! Michael:
Spa day at home, because this Tarzan looking dude, is everywhere where he is wanted! You wanted to do a spa day for Michael, because you have a feeling that his hair is tangled, and he also needed to take a bath since he reeks of blood from his victims and animals..
You started a warm bubble bath, grabbed some body wash, shampoo, & conditioner. You then waited until the bath was filled almost to the top. Once the bathtub was filled, you then walked downstairs to get some snacks, and went back up. Michael then wondered what you were doing, and walked upstairs to where you were.Michael then saw you sitting down, and you looked at him and told him to come and shut the door. Michael then did what you asked and walked over to you, you then pointed at the bathtub and said that he had to take a bath.
Since there were bubbles in the bath, Michael immediately took off his clothes and went inside. Bubble baths is what makes Michael entertained, and it also reminds him of his mom doing his bath too! You squirted some conditioner on your hand and started untangling Michael's hair. After a little while of untangling his hair, you then fed Michael some snacks and told him that he did a great job of not complaining of showering! Just giving love and praise to Michael for doing such a great job!
Thomas & Bubba:
It was just a normal hot sunny day in Texas, and you have been working on doing a spa day with these two! Nice ice cold water for both of them, since their skin is always hot during hardworking days like these. Killing off people and making them as meat.
You got the ice bath ready, snacks, clay, etc! Now you have to tell them that they can come outside! You walked your home and told Thomas and Bubba that it was ready, Bubba got up from the chair he was sitting in and walked towards you, Thomas did the same too.
Walking to the backyard, Thomas and Bubba looked at the whole thing you made just for them! A nice cold bath, snacks, drinks, and some other stuff that they didn't know you made too! Since it was still hot outside almost all the ice melted, so it was still cold and Thomas and bubba love you so much that you took the time to make all this just for them. You also wanted to feed them some snacks which they let you! Luda Mae looked outside seeing that you made a spa for them, but with cold baths which she laughed at. But she was really happy that both boys are having fun and relaxing at the same time!
Billy Lenz & Brahms:
Doing a spa day is good for these two, because they always smell bad whenever they walk around the house. That's why these two are trying to find you in Brahms big mansion, until they found you in a big room that's like a big sauna room.
They looked at what you were doing at the spa, the snacks that were nearby, etc! You turned around and saw Billy and Brahms looking everywhere in the spa. You then walked to the door, closed it, and locked it just in case those two tried to run out from not taking a bath.. They wanted to know what was all this, until you told them that they had to take a bath. They fled to the door, but it was locked and saw that you were giving them your glare.
They sluggishly walked to the bath that was full of warm water with bubbles, took off their clothes, and went inside. You then placed the snack on a little foldable table, you grabbed a shower cloth and started scrubbing off all the dirt off of those two. You then grabbed the treats and fed them, they felt so relaxed and happy that you fed and washed them!
#patrick bateman x reader#norman bates x reader#carrie white x reader#chucky x reader#chucky x tiffany#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#tlb x reader#david x reader#dwayne x reader#paul x reader#marko x reader#hannigram x reader#jason vorhees x reader#rz michael myers x reader#thomas hewitt x reader#bubba sawyer x reader#billy lenz x reader#brahms heelshire x reader#slashers x reader#slashers fanfiction
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Hello! I was wondering (if I'm doing this right) if I could request for the fighting event?
Could I request number 4 (TAKE MY JACKET, I INSIST.) with Leona Kingscholar "fighting" (maybe a hint for that?) with Jack Howl who offers Yuu a jacket without even being asked for one?
Thank you!
☆┊TAKE MY JACKET, I INSIST. (🐺 vs. 🦁)
SUMMARY: COLD CHILLS RAN DOWN YOUR SPINE AS YOUR TEMPERATURE BEGINS TO DROP. HE OFFERS HIS JACKET LIKE A GENTLEMEN, BUT A CERTAIN SOMEONE HAD THE SAME IDEA.
CHARACTERS: jack howl vs. leona kingscholar
EVENT MASTERLIST
WARNINGS: no determined end couple, jealousy
NOTES: first event request done, yay! regular posts will still be uploaded but my main focus will be on event requests! tysm for participating!
reader is g/n, reader is yuu
˚∘☆∘˚
night raven college was experiencing some of its lowest temperatures all year.
around this time, the weather usually begins to drop from scorching hot summers to calm and crisp autumns. however, this year seemed to differ. harsh winds blew past you and grim as you walked by the great seven, feeling as if they were mocking you for being without a jacket on this fatefully cold day.
“myah.. i don’t like it. feels like they’re makin fun of us.” grim grumbles, burying himself in his paws to maintain some form of warmth. he nestled on your shoulder, leaning against your cheek to also try and keep you warm. “tell me about it..” you sigh, rubbing your shivering arms.
“hey, herbivore,” a familiarly lazy voice rings, poking the back of your head. leona? what in the world is he doing out in the cold? “what’re you doin without a jacket? you goin for a new style or are ya just that scatterbrained?” he teases, flicking your forehead lightly with a raised brow. “ow! im not scatterbrained, i simply forgot.” you grunt in retaliation, holding your forehead to prevent him from flicking you again.
“anyways, what are you doing out here? savanaclaw is warm all year, i expected you to stay there til lunch.” you interrogate him, poking a finger to his chest. that’s when you noticed, he’s covering up for once. more accurately, he’s wearing a coat. unexpected for someone like him to be wearing long sleeves, even in cold weather.
“takin a stroll. got a problem with it?” he shrugs, lying through the skin of his teeth. he actually came to visit you, but by the time he had gotten to ramshackle you were already gone. “no, just doesn’t seem like you.” you grin, chuckling slightly at his silent reaction. leona turned away, eyes averting to the ground.
“tch.” he grunts, following you silently. grim looks to leona, who wasn’t as snarky as he typically was. ruggie could preach for that. leona watches as you shiver, each step you took the only thing keeping you from frostbite. he contemplated on offering his coat, but his pride fails to allow him. he stole glances at you every once in a while, but never spoke.
that was, until you all heard footsteps chasing after you. “[MC]! grim!” you all look up to see jack already a few feet away with his uniform coat in hand. “jack?!” you all collectively shout, not expecting him to see him out here. but then again, he is a jock. a good run perhaps? “housewarden? what are you doing out here?” jack asks, a bit shocked to see his housewarden awake at this hour.
“walkin. gotta problem, frosh?” leona growls, jack immediately holding his tongue for further comments. “no, housewarden. anyway, [MC], take my coat. you’ll freeze out here without one.” jack insists, already draping the coat over you. “ah! jack, it’s freezing out here. keep your coat, are you crazy?” you sigh, trying to take it off and hand it back to him. unfortunately, your strength differs greatly as he manages to keep it on you with ease.
“nothin a run can’t fix.” he laughs, his fangs showing as he smiled. it was quite charming. “awh, that’s so kind of you, jack. thank you.” you smile in return, wrapping yourself in the jacket further. while you and jack bantered back and forth as you walked towards your class. leona on the other hand, was not a fan of this exchange in the slightest. is he getting shown up by his own junior? how unacceptable.
your laughter was like music to his ears.. why’d it have to be for another man? and jack of all people? “jack,” he grunts, suddenly interjecting between you two. “your shiverin. take your coat back.” he scoffs, taking his coat off of your shoulders and tossing it back to him. “..huh?” he raises his brow, barely catching his coat on time. you, grim, and jack all exchanged looks with each other, taken aback by leona’s sudden consideration.
“leona? what are you—” he wraps his coat around you, draping it over your shoulders and buttoning it up with ease. “practically brand new. hardly wore it.” leona huffs, throwing jack a smug look. the wolf beast man took notice of it, shocked at his housewarden’s pettiness. “wow.. thanks leona! that’s sweet of you.” you smile, not finding anything suspicious with his actions.
“whatever, nothin special. just lookin out for my underclassmen.” he grins, ruffling your hair before shooting another smug look at jack. “keep your coat to yourself now, jack. i wouldn’t want ya freezing on me either.” he pats his shoulder before waving and walking off towards the botanical gardens.
“somethin’ seems off with leona today.” grim states bluntly, crossing his arms as he stared at the back of the lion beastman. “..yeah. a little.” jack adds, looking back at those smug glares he received from his own upperclassman. “really? i think he’s being a gentlemen for once.” you chuckle, adjusting the collar. a lion marks their scent as a way of courting their mate, common knowledge for beastmen.
the coat you wore practically reeked of leona definitely worn more than once. that scent was the only thing filling his nostrils, not to mention his enhanced sense of smell. wolves are not all that different, marking their territory and sticking by their mates side til they die. this was no act of kindness.
this was a warning from leona to jack, a simple sign from animal to animal. back off.
A/N: with the amount of leona requests i got, it’s gonna be like leona’s fighting off the entire school 😭😭🙏🙏
date published: 8/24/24
© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!
#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland fluff#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fluff#twst x reader#jack howl x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#jack howl#leona kingscholar#love triangle#fight for the prefects love#twst event#yayyy
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I LOVED daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x reader!! could you write a part 2?
𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞: 𝐊.𝐎. !
summary: Okay, Daniel may have won the first round. He cleared her dry spell with no problem and used Max to do it, too. That’s completely fine, she will never complain about experiencing some of the best orgasms of her life. But, Max (the man unable to not have the last word) coerces her into giving Daniel a taste of his own medicine. As soon as they can manage to walk on two feet, without a wobble. Mark their fucking words. pairing: daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x fem!black!reader content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. author recommends reading part one before this. polyamory. threesome. massages. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. safe, sane, and consensual. bondage. safeword mention. unprotected sex. ruined orgasm. handjob. oral sex (male receiving). edging. crying during sex. praise kink. nipple play. dom/sub ig? joking during sex. dom!max verstappen. switch!daniel ricciardo. sub!reader. vaginal sex. anal sex (male). sex toys (butt plug). frottage. don’t like don’t read. no beta we die like men. edited by the author, though. this is a fictional depiction of real-life people, and this is not an accurate representation of them. word count: 4.3k words
author’s notes: to all the lovely readers who begged for a part two of my f1 kinktober special | overstimulation kink w danny & max. these tags may look crazy...okay, they are but the fic is reasonably crazy i would say. this was humbling to write, you have been warned. my 2k followers special comes to its end with this final installment and there will be no part three of this fic < 3. i may repost this on ao3 in a week or so, for ease of reading as i know long fics on tumblr are kind of annoying :)
(i'm going to take a little pause from writing daniel ricciardo fics but those of you that have requested things for him i will get to them in due time xxx)
prev part 1 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents↻
Your body feels like it’s been wrung out: legs wobbly, thighs bruised, hips aching, back broken, and numb with heat between your legs. You refuse to wear pants as the friction is too paralyzing to take more than a few steps. Loose dresses are your best friend–for the first couple of days, you even went commando around the ranch—thank god neither one of your boyfriends clued into that.
However, it’s not like you disliked the oversensitivity and aching muscles that came after sex. You loved the feeling even more as it was the first time you’d been properly fucked in a few months. Having that unending thirst for Max and Daniel quenched; it’s heightened how you experience life. You swear that your vision feels sharper, your melanated skin softer, anything you eat tastes better than delicious, the homemade lemonade is sweeter, and most importantly, your desperation has calmed. While you love life on the farm, where living has become succulent under your senses—Max’s attitude has done a complete 180°.
His energy is completely subdued. It’s like Daniel drained the cum and brat out of him. Max is all stuttered words when he makes eye contact with either of you, blushing fully at the lightest tease or brush of skin, voice soft when he speaks, usual bluntness replaced with shyness, and he’s even clingier than normal. If he hasn’t glued himself underneath Daniel’s arm, he’ll be plastered against your back.
You wonder if he’s embarrassed that Daniel changed their “plan” on him at the last minute, or if it’s because Daniel used him as a tool to get you off—but, asking Max would only scare him away or cause the brat to resurface…so you don’t verbalize your theories. You find Max in this state more adorable than usual, and you won’t complain if it means a surplus of Max-cuddles.
Yet, the figurative rug is pulled from beneath your feet when the three of you go Christmas shopping. Daniel had separated from the two of you to go pick up a gift for his nephew, leaving you and Max alone to browse through knickknacks that decorate the shelves. Your eyes were caught by cat ornaments that looked exactly like Jimmy and Sassy but before you could reach out to grab, them Max grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to hide in the next aisle over.
“I want to break Daniel with so many orgasms that he won’t be able to speak by the time we’re done with him,” Max states bluntly. The brat is back.
“Regulate your volume,” you whisper-yell at him, hand moving to cover his mouth as you look around to see if anybody heard your Dutch boyfriend, “We are in public and you decided now is the time to bring this up?!”
He pulls your hand off his face, looking at you with wide eyes, “But, liefje–c’mon! Daniel’s been way too smug recently. Whenever I’m around him he doesn’t miss the chance to mention how he made me cry—made you cry, too!”
“Inside voice, Max,” you bite out, continuing to look at the Christmas decorations in this aisle.
“Fine,” Max whispers, rolling his eyes, “Technically, it’s another Christmas present for him if you think about it.”
“I’m trying not to think about it if you haven’t noticed.”
“Don’t you want to even the board? Imagine it: Daniel underneath the two of us, and we’re overwhelming him with pleasure. Doesn’t that sound like a good time?”
You stop walking abruptly and Max runs into your back. You spin around and stare at him with narrowed eyes and a flared nose.
“You seriously thought the best time to discuss this is in the middle of a family-friendly store, where our boyfriend is picking up a gift for his nephew?”
“Yes.”
“If you stop talking about it for the entire time we’re shopping today, I’ll consider it. We can discuss this when the phantom feeling of his cum on my skin goes away.”
That evening, you and the Dutchman watch Daniel fix a motorbike out in the driveway from the garage. He’s shirtless, sweat dripping down his face and back, you can see every muscle engage and relax as he moves. He’s silhouetted by the Australian sunset and you hear Max choke on his breath when Daniel’s loose jeans slip down his hips, exposing the waistband of his briefs—twin sighs of disappointment leave you both when he catches and drags them back up. With shaky hands, you grab the pitcher of lemonade you prepared to pour a glass for each of you. Ignoring how you missed the glass on your first few attempts, you two bring the drinks to your lips and dry the cups embarrassingly quickly to satiate your desperation—the lemonade doesn’t help.
Daniel finishes with the bike and wipes his hands on a towel he had tucked into his back pocket, looking your guys’ way. He smiles brightly—shamefully, you wave in response and Max tucks a nonexistent strand of hair behind his ear; the two of you are acting like school girls with a crush.
The Australian stands and in a few relaxed strides, he comes to a stop in front of you two.
“Can you pour me a glass, sweetheart?” his request rumbles out velvety.
Stuttering, you scramble to do as he asked and find that Max has reached for the pitcher as well when your hands bump into each other. The two of you freeze and stare at each other with wide eyes; Max’s blush blooms red across his face and yours warms the brown skin of your cheeks. Daniel’s chuckle of amusement snaps you out of it; Max pours the drink, and you hand it off to the Australian, avoiding eye contact. He brings the glass to his lips and drains it dry. You and the Dutchman stare with gaped mouths, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, whimpering and pressing your thighs together at his ah in satisfaction when finished.
He leans down to place the glass back on the tray and smirks at you and Max, “Absolutely delicious. It almost tastes as sweet as either of you is acting right now.”
Both of you stay silent, squirming in your lawn chairs. Daniel takes a second to slowly press both of your mouths closed with a nudge of his fingers before straightening up and clearing his throat.
“Thank you for the drink, sweetheart,” Daniel cocks his head to the side in question, before winking, his smug aura radiating off of him, “Or should I say, ‘sweethearts?’ As both of you seemed so eager to help me quench my thirst.”
Your mouth pops open again and Max audibly whimpers next to you. Daniel laughs and walks to enter the house, “Don’t feel afraid to join me in the shower.”
The plan is set before Daniel’s out of the shower. You’ve changed into a black mini slip dress, curls loosely cascading down your back as you’ve draped yourself on top of the bed sideways, face-down on your tummy, not caring how the back of your dress has ridden up a couple of inches. Max laid himself on his side next to you, dressed in a navy Enchanté shirt and a pair of Daniel’s briefs that hug at his thighs a little too tightly, and plays with the bottom hem of your dress, letting his fingers drift underneath to press at bruises that haven’t healed from that night.
At the sound of the shower shutting off, the two of you glance at each other; Max checking in with you one last time before you guys follow through with the plan. At your nod, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips and goes back to fiddling with your dress. You rest your head on your folded arms and as your eyes flutter shut, the bathroom door opens.
You hear Daniel humming some country song and he gets about three steps into the room before he stops abruptly.
“Well, if I had known this would be waiting for me out here, I wouldn’t have spent a lifetime in the shower waiting for you guys to take me up on my offer.”
Max makes a noise of confusion, his hand pausing at your hemline, “What are you talking about? We just thought it would be nice to give you a massage—you know, prevent any muscle tightness from when you were hunched over the bike.”
“Is that so, pretty girl?” Daniel questions you, looking past Max. He’s dried off from his shower already, skin gleaming thanks to your cocoa butter lotion he probably stole, hair still damp but not dripping, and a towel wrapped around his waist. You’re sure he’s trying to sniff out any weakness; to see if he can bend you into revealing Max’s agenda for tonight. Little does he know that you’re not an accomplice, you’ve put a good amount of work into this plan too.
In response, you offer a small smile and hold up a bottle of massage oil that was previously tucked into your side. Daniel’s narrowed eyes flit between the two of you, and then he relaxes, shrugging loftily as he motions for the two of you to move so he can lie down.
“Okay, sure,” Daniel laughs, falling into the bed as soon as the space is available, lying flat on his stomach, face planting into the pillows and his next words are muffled but loud enough to understand, “You don’t have to use ‘giving me a massage’ as an excuse to feel me up, but I’m not going to turn it down if you’re so willing to do so.”
You and Max are kneeling on opposite sides of Daniel’s body on the bed, resting on the heels of your feet, and you muffle a giggle at Max rolling his eyes at your boyfriend’s words. The younger man slaps his hand on Daniel’s back, grinning at the stifled yelp that sounds from near the headboard, and coos sarcastically, “Do you think you can handle that level of pain? Considering this is a deep-tissue massage?”
You drizzle a nice amount of oil on the middle of his back, letting your laughter escape as Daniel pleads, “Woah—hear me out, what about a regular massage? I would like to end this massage without crying from soreness, please.”
Slowly the two of you turn to look at each other, smiles spreading across your lips, and Max murmurs, “Oh. You’ll be crying by the end of this.”
You ignore Daniel begging for mercy underneath you and beginning massaging. For all of the Dutchman’s ribbing, the two of you are gentle. Your hands soothingly rub any tension out of his back; the two of you are only doing this to melt Daniel into the bed. He protests and grumbles through the both of you digging into his shoulders, but quiets as you make your way down his back, practically moaning when you push a knot out from behind his shoulder blade. Max manages to wrangle out a whimper when he presses his thumb into the dimple of his lower back. Neither of you gets close to the towel resting low on his hips; you want to keep him as calm and unaware as possible, but getting close to that towel would do the opposite. When Daniel’s breathing slows and his sounds of relief start to lessen, Max gently coaxes Daniel into rolling on his back with ease.
The brunette’s eyes flutter open, but you tut disapprovingly when his gaze meets yours. With a kiss on his forehead, Daniel closes his eyes at your word, not fighting you for a second. And from that point, you and Max begin conditioning the older man to get used to only having one pair of hands on him at a time. Max massages his chest, you take a break, you massage his chest, Max takes a break; and as Daniel starts to relax at the rhythm, you guys slowly increase the length of your breaks.
Until the breaks get long enough to slip the ties that you guys fastened to the headboard out.
Daniel was so entranced at the sight of you and Max sprawled on his bed that he forgot to examine his surroundings. They’re silk ties, with pre-made straps for you to tighten as soon as his hands are inside them. The two of you take it to the next step; you each begin to massage his arms (still employing your regular breaks), raising them upwards to “get a better angle.” Daniel doesn’t even shift at the change, he just hums under his breath when either of you soothes across a good spot. And with little effort, you and Max raise both of his arms and smoothly slip his tattooed hands into the ties, tightening the straps in the blink of an eye.
The older man startles, eyes flying open as he tries to yank his wrists free of the binds, “Uhhhh, what the fuck?”
Both of you watch as Daniel tries to free himself without any luck, enjoying the show as the silk ties prove they won’t give out. Chills shudder down your spine as your older boyfriend tries to order the two of you to release him, but he must see the feral glint shine in your eyes because he switches to asking when neither of you moves.
“You know what to say if you really want us to let you go, Daniel,” Max states bluntly, pulling off his Enchanté shirt easily.
You hum in agreement, straddling the Australian’s hips and simultaneously tugging your slip dress over your head and tossing it to the side, exposing your bare body before seating yourself on the bulge showing through the towel. Daniel chokes out a curse, his eyes dancing between yours and Max’s bodies being dangled in front of his face without being able to touch.
He tests the binds for any give half-heartedly before sniffing dismissively, jaw tightening as he challenges Max, “Do your worst, baby.”
Max scoffs out a laugh, “That is the plan.”
From there you and Max turn into savages. Both of you bypass kissing Daniel, pressing lips and biting bruises along his neck and torso instead. The man can only cry out as Max terrorizes his nipples with teeth and pinching fingers while you paint marks on his hipbones and navel. The older man isn’t convinced that the night will end without the two of you seriously attempting cannibalism but the thought is pushed away when the towel is tugged off his hips.
Max laughs mockingly and flicks Daniel’s already-hardened length, “Well, this will be even easier than we thought, liefje.”
“I was half-hard from the minute you guys put your hands on me,” Daniel snipes, “Don’t let this go to your head.”
You raise an eyebrow in question, tilting your head to the side innocently which contrasts the strong grasp of your hand around the head of Daniel’s cock, “Isn’t that a compliment, though? Anyways, it clearly went to your head.”
Daniel groans in pleasure as you start to rapidly stroke along his quickly reddening length, “That was a terrible pun–fuck–but, I’m only letting it slide because your hand is on my cock.”
He bucks up into your fist and you release him immediately, smiling as you see him choke down a whimper of disappointment. The older man isn’t left alone for long, as Max drags the tip of his index finger along the slit of Daniel’s cock before flattening his palm across the head and roughly circling it to overwhelm him with an alarming amount of pleasure-coated friction.
The brunette can’t stifle his cries this time nor can he buck his hips, thanks to the Dutchman pinning him down with his free forearm. Max pulls both of his hands away quickly, delighting in Daniel’s sounds of displeasure, the two of you watching as he attempts to chase a hand that isn’t there anymore. His length is throbbing, pulsing angrily, redder than the blush that stains his tanned chest. You swallow wantingly. Both of you thought that you would be able to get a few more rounds out of a handjob, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
Max gets his hand around the base and yours circles the tip. Simultaneously, the two of you start rubbing him off in time, keeping your fists just tight enough and your motions just quick enough to hurtle Daniel to the edge. He throws his head back into the pillows, hips freely bucking as neither one of you attempts to stop him, his hands pulling against the ties all the while,
“You can cum whenever you want, Daniel,” Max states.
The older man lets out several pants of desperation, calling both of your names as he nears his climax. And when you both see the telltale sign of Daniel’s chest rising and falling heavily, you release his cock.
“No! Wait–shit,” he tries to gasp, but it’s too late. His cock starts leaking, jerking pathetically as cum drips down his length in ribbons—his orgasm ruined. Dry sobs escape his lungs as he humps the air, looking for friction that isn’t there, continuing to beg for a hand even as he struggles to breathe as a result of the unsatisfying release.
You let him come down hard, offering support in a quick squeeze of the meat of his thigh over his tattoo. When he catches his breath, his eyes flutter open. Max sees the wetness gathered in the waterlines and moves in the blink of an eye, enveloping Daniel’s still-hard cock in his mouth.
The Australian’s back arches off the bed, hips racing forward then backward as he cries out, unsure if the feeling of Max’s mouth is good. Both pairs of your hands fly forward to still Daniel, forcing him to feel every crevice of Max’s tongue and throat, trying to bring him to another orgasm as quickly as possible. It works, Daniel stops fighting and starts obeying, rolling upward into Max’s mouth, whimpering out depravedly as he struggles against his binds again. You see his abs start to undulate in waves, a second orgasm trying to form and you slip your hand underneath Max’s chin, lightly squeezing at Daniel’s balls—and the tears fall as his release slams into him like a semi-truck.
The younger man swallows around Daniel, humming as he does it, yet the bobbing motion of his head doesn’t stop—Max is going to try his hardness to prevent Daniel from going soft, even as the older man tries to fight and twist away from the wet grasp of his throat. The Australian’s tears paint his cheek as he sobs messily, and you’re quick to check in with him as Max’s mouth is occupied.
“Daniel, color?” you manage to make your voice sound steady, but your thighs are trembling, your cunt pulsing with wetness and need.
The man whimpers, eyes unseeingly looking down at you and Max as he cries messily, “Green.”
You moan breathily, finally giving in to your urges and rushing forward to messily kiss Daniel. You let him cry into your mouth, nipping at his lips and tasting his tears before pulling away. Max pulls off Daniel’s cock with a reedy gasp and moves backward quickly so you can slip in between them, seating your cunt atop the half-hard length and beginning to grind along him. The brunette makes a sound as if he’s been punched in the gut, arms pausing in their fight against the ties before they resume with renewed strength. Daniel scrambles to get his feet underneath him, trying to buck off the hot, wet drag of your cunt against his cock. It’s pulsing so violently that he swears he can feel it in his throat.
Max knocks his feet down, and tugs Daniel’s chin to look at him with a hardened grasp, with his voice rough and croaky he commands, “Can you give us one more, Daniel?”
Daniel's glossy, brown eyes stare at Max without answer, mouth parted as drool slips from the corners of his lips. The Dutchman’s brow tightens with worry and he releases his chin to pull you off. But, before he can stop you, Daniel gasps out desperately.
“M’ green—please, please, Max,” Daniel nods viciously, “Green, green—one more.”
The younger man soothes Daniel with sweet words, praising and comforting him as he leans forward to pepper his lips and neck with kisses and kitten licks, pausing to motion you to continue.
You line up Daniel’s cock easily and murmur out a ‘thank you’, before sinking down and not stopping until your ass meets his pelvis, uncaring of how he attempts to shake you off. His body is reacting in too much, but Max and you both see and hear how his brain interprets it as too good.
You keen in pleasure but your noises are deafened by Daniel’s cries and begs for relief. Well aware that you have to get yourself off so Max can have a turn, you find that toe-curling angle with the help of Max directing your hips, holding yourself steady with one hand behind you on the bed and the other drawing rapid circles on your clit. Max moves to let you rest your back along his chest, your frizzed curls a mess as they bounce with your movements.
The visual stimulation of Daniel in front of you moaning and heaving for more, the frantic twitching of his length inside of you, the sound of your skin slapping against his, and Max’s voice ghosting right by your ear, the ‘good girl’ that left his lips taking a second to process; all of it pushes you into the abyss. You don’t know if it’s you or Daniel that screams, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision flashing white clouds your mind as the explosion of pleasure burns your nerve endings.
With a choked ‘fuck,’ you slump over, slipping off his twitching cock and slinking down next to Daniel as you shiver and shake through the last dregs of pleasure. Max flutters over both of you, unsure if he should keep pushing the limit, but both you and Daniel yell confirmations of “Green!” that have Max ripping off his briefs, reaching between his legs and whimpering as he carefully tugs out the plug he’s had in for the entire time.
Daniel’s eyes roll in disbelief, his brain exhausted to the point where he can’t string together any words to communicate his confusion.
Max huffs out a hysterical giggle, one hand stroking along his cock as he tosses the plug off the side of the bed. “Fuck–you were in the shower forever, Daniel. I’ve had that in for too long.”
The younger man shakes as he lowers himself on Daniel’s cock, bottoming out with a whimper as he mouths down at Daniel, “Just one more, baby, okay? Make me come, yeah?”
The older man’s moan is curdled with overstimulation, but he finds the will to get his feet underneath him and shakily thrust upwards into Max, hoping somehow that that’s enough. Max lets his head fall back in pleasure, thankful for the moving pressure of Daniel’s cock inside of him rather than the consistent annoyance of the plug holding him open. Coupled with the stretch of his rim and his hand furiously twisting along his length, Max reaches his peak quickly.
Before taking the plunge, he chokes out words of praise at Daniel and you rush to do the same, understanding that Max is attempting to push Daniel over the edge as well. You see tears of frustration build in Daniel’s eyes as he struggles to fully give in, and you fall forward to tug at his nipples with your teeth, reinvigorating Daniel’s attempts at slipping from the silk ties. At the sight, Max shouts, body tightening and then relaxing as he strokes out ribbons of cum. Daniel’s hips stutter when the first drop of cum lands on his skin and you feel his lungs halt as the strongest orgasm—most likely dry, at that—wreaks havoc upon his body.
His body goes limp underneath the two of you, and his hands droop in their binds. You speedily untie Daniel’s arms as Max slowly slips off the man’s rapidly softening length, trying to lessen any unwanted stimulation for the unaware Australian. You catch his arms before they fall against the bed, rubbing your hands against them to coax proper blood flow in them. Spent, Max stumbles to Daniel’s side, taking one arm out of your hands and matching your movements.
“Good job, liefje,” Max breathes out, smiling up at you with an exhausted smile, his hair drenched with sweat and falling in front of his eyes. You blush and kiss him sweetly, “It was your idea!”
Max shakes his head, pausing his hands to reach down and brush Daniel’s curls off his forehead, “No; you made half of the plan. So, it was our idea.”
The Australian groans, eyes fluttering open but they’re still clouded enough that you both know he’s going to need more than enough TLC tonight, “ —idea made me think i w‘sgonna die.”
Max laughs, rubbing circles around the man’s temple, “I guess we forgot to factor in your old age as a variable, didn’t we, liefje?”
Daniel’s face flutters in displeasure at being referred to as “old,” even when he’s not quite come down, “Mean, Maxy.”
You giggle, “That’s what he calls mean out of this entire experience?”
The Dutchman presses kisses to both of your foreheads before he stumbles out of bed, “I’m going to grab some fruit and cream for Daniel’s wrists. Should I grab anything else?” He directs the question to you.
Of course, the Australian jumps in before you have the chance to respond, “Lemonade, please.”
© httpsserene2024
#f1 x reader#f1 smut#poly!f1#max verstappen x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#max verstappen x black!reader#daniel ricciardo x black!reader#max verstappen x female reader#daniel ricciardo x max verstappen#daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo x female reader#maxiel#f1 x black!reader#f1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x black!reader#formula 1 x female reader#⋆⭒˚。⋆. series special: formula 1#♡ ༘*.゚ love interest: dr.#♡ ༘*.゚ love interest: mv.#serene's chapters.#httpss :// 2k special
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Alright I'm back. Bare with me please.
We NEEEED to be talking about this.
When Aziraphale and Crowley have their first big on screen fight/break up(how ever you want to view it) we see Crowley start yelling about how he hates the "great plan" and Aziraphale goes on to say "may he be forgiven" this leads on to Crowley having a bit of a sad rant as below, even going as far as saying "i will never be forgiven, not ever. Remember, this is the Crowley that said "I didn't even mean to fall, I just hung around the wrong people"
Now what I want to add to this is how absolutely devastated Crowley sounds after this fight and how absolutely torn Aziraphale looks.
(Excuse my poor video, I couldn't find the scene online)
My rant doesn't stop there, no, no. I have more!
The ONE thing Crowley plays into is the "I'm a demon I'm not nice or worthy of forgiveness." And I think Aziraphale is aware of that.
1. He never gets mad when Crowley pulls the "I'm not nice" cranky pants act
2. He didn't even flinch when Crowley shoved him against the wall in the first seasons(but that could be for different reasons 😉)
3. He never, assumes Crowley is behind the wrong doing until Crowley says something dumb like "I got a commendation" regarding the French head cutting. He has learned over the years that what Crowley makes "evil" is usually not something truly bad like the whole bullets instead of paint but no one actually got hurt.
Aziraphale loves Crowley so much but he can't say it because they are always being watched. So you know what he uses instead? I FORGIVE YOU. We see it twice in the series. Aziraphale understand that Crowley thinks he will never be forgiven and that being a demon, he isn't worthy of anyone's forgiveness. So Aziraphale makes sure Crowley knows rhat he is worthy and that he cares so much about Crowley that even God herself won't forgive him, at least Aziraphale has. Aziraphale uses it as his I love you because in a way, it means so much more to them.
Here is the first "I forgive you"
Crowley is pouring his heart out trying to protect Aziraphale and get him to run away with him. He even tells Aziraphale how clever he is, granted he also called him stupid. This is another moment where Crowley is really trying to explain to Az how much he cares about him. Yes there is a LOT of miscommunication here because Aziraphale doesn't want to leave earth. He wants Crowley but he doesn't want to leave. He wants to fight for what is right. Crowley just wants to protect Azirphale and himself. He wants them to have peace together. The do argue and you can see Az is hurt again but instead of breaking things off like earlier, he says "I forgive you" which we can all agree doesn't just mean he forgives Crowley for being rude, he is forgiving so much
. The rude comments
. Lack of trust
. Showing he is worth forgiveness even with such a rushed apology.
Crowley could have left! By all means he should have but he could not abandon his Angel. There is nothing Crowley fears more than losing his Angel. He knew hell was coming for him, he knew they would destroy him for such a huge mistake but he stayed because his Angel is worth risking his life for. His Angel who forgives him time and time again for having to be a "demon" and put on the act. The Angel that has been by his side for thousands of years, just them against all else. Of course he stayed, and do we blame him?
Now let's move onto the second "I forgive you" scene and boy, there is a LOOOOOT to unpack there.
I'm not going into the last 15 because there is SOOO many posts that accurately portray the meaning behind BOTH of their song and dance. Especially Aziraphale's side. So I'm just going to cover that last scene in the shop together.
. Aziraphale knows they are being watched, just like season 1 all over again. The threat is much great this time, though, it's the actual Metatron
. When he first came into the shop, he KNEW what Crowley was going to say by the first words and Az even said "I know we ought be talking about..." he then looked outside and the scene continued. The whole time he keeps glancing outside!!
. When Crowley kisses him, you see Az lose himself in it. He leans in and holds him, ever so briefly before remembering they are being watched. The kiss is all they have ever wanted but it's the wrong time as they are being watched. Just watch him grab his back and straighten slightly
. The first place Az looks after the kiss is outside to the Metabastard. Crowley never once follows his eyes though, would it have been different if he did?
. That man is broken! He loves Crowley beyond words, beyond books and would risk everything for him, that's what he is doing to protect him right now in this scene. As stated in one of the flash backs in season one "I can't have you risking your life, not even for something dangerous" which means Crowleys life is more important to him than getting into trouble with the other angels.
. If your volume is up super high(we had a loud thunderstorm) you will hear "I..... Lo..... I forgive you" now you might think I'm hearing things but I'm not. If you slow the scene down and watch Aziraphale's mouth and tongue placement he IS saying the letter L not F. He couldn't possibly say I love you infront of metatron though, could you imagine what would happen? So he says I forgive you. It's the only way he could safely say "I Love You" without making the whole thing with Metadickhead worse.
. He grabs his lip and presses into it replicating the kiss! This doesn't add much to my rant, just thought it was super cute because it shows how much he enjoyed it and knows that he won't feel that again for a very long time, if ever.
#crowly x aziraphale#good omens tv#good omens season 2#south downs cottage#crowly good omens#ineffable bureaucracy#good omemes#ineffable partners#ineffablehusbands#crowley#Aziraphale#aziracrow#azicrow#aziraphale good omens#aziraphale x crowley#anthony j crowley#good omens kiss#good omens theories
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