#if you would like it to be a series let me know
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all4yoi · 1 day ago
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𝒯he 𝒟addy 𝒟iaries
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!? . . ★ 𝓕inding 𝓞ut — the moment they find out you're pregnant and how they react.
➹ enhypen hyungline x fem!reader ✦ cw: pregnancy, suggestive themes (sex mentioned), crying, slight angst, fluff, cringe cringe PLSS IDK let me redeem myself to the upcoming prompts.. not proofread!!
✦ taglist: open! send an ask — SERIES MASTERLIST
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LEE HEESEUNG
It was practically like a tradition ever since you married Heeseung, that you would take a pregnancy test every month. It's not like you two were trying really hard to have a baby, if it turns out negative then that's that, and if it's positive, then..
Actually the thought of being pregnant was starting to be impossible for you. It has been 8 months since you've been married and all those tests turned negative. So, now that you look at the test with two lines, you stand in shock.
"Baby? You've been in there for a while." Your husband's voice comes from the other side of the closed bathroom door. Taking the test in your hand, you open the door to be met with Heeseung's towering figure.
He looks at you in confusion, his gaze averting from your face to the test on your hands. His eyes widens a bit, shakily taking the test from you. When he sees the two lines, he lets out a happy laugh, embracing you.
"You're pregnant?!" He exclaims in joy, pulling away but keeping you close. You nod with a smile as small happy tears form in your tear ducts. "Oh baby, I love you so much. Thank you." Heeseung says with a crack, his own tears flowing down his cheeks.
PARK JONGSEONG
"I think we should go see a doctor, baby." Jay says in worry as he rubs your back while you're hunched over the toilet and pour your guts out. You shake your head, wiping your mouth as you sit back up.
"I think it's the chicken last night we ordered." You say weakly and openly welcome Jay's embrace.
"If it were, then I'd be pouring my guts out every morning too baby." He sighs, helping you up your feet and helping you in brushing your teeth. "I'm texting Dr. Choi right now, go change okay? I'm getting you checked." Jay kissed your temple before exiting the bathroom, leaving no room for arguments.
The drive to the hospital was quiet, you still weren't feeling good and Jay was too worried to disturb your moment of peace.
"Sorry for the question, but are you two sexually active?" Dr. Choi asked. You look confused but nod nonetheless. "Yes, but it has been weeks since we last had sex."
Dr. Choi nods, "I see, in the urine sample we tested, it detected hCG which means you're pregnant for 6 weeks Mrs. Park. We can discuss your next steps when you're ready."
You exhale heavily, looking up at Jay who was beside you.
"Jay.." said man embraces you gently, nodding at the doctor who now left the room. "We can do whatever you want baby, choice is all yours. I love you no matter what your decision will be."
SIM JAEYUN
"This is ridiculous." You mutter as you wait for the pregnancy test. Currently, your girl friends were over at your apartment for a girls night out and they decided it was a fun idea to have you use the pregnancy test that Ningning found in her older sister's drawer.
When your phone alarms signaling the end of the 5 minutes, you flip the pregnancy test without a care, but the words "Pregnant" on it makes you freeze.
Ningning and Karina bursts inside the bathroom after hearing the alarm but their smiles drop as soon as they see your red eyes. "Y/N.."
You shook your head, fisting your hair in your hands. "No, my parents will kill me. Jake can't know." You cry and your friends embrace you.
"Atleast let Jake know.. he deserves to know too you know?" Karina mutters, brushing the strands of your hair out of your face. "No, no.." You cry harder.
You were too busy crying and your friends comforting you that no one noticed the footsteps coming in the room.
"Hey, what's happening?" Jake's voice makes your sobs halt.
"Um, we'll uh, we'll leave you two to talk." Ningning says as she pats your back before leaving the room with Karina.
Jake's brows furrows at your state before he approaches you slowly, bringing you to his chest and resting his cheek on the top of your head. "Shh, you're fine now. What happened while I was gone, lovely?"
Your silence worries him even more but when his gaze averts to the sink counter and sees the pregnancy test, he squeezes you tighter. His own tears forming on his eyes.
"I got you, 'm not going anywhere. Shh."
PARK SUNGHOON
"Whatever it shows, you know I'll still love you right?" Sunghoon whispers as he gazes at you with full of love. You and Sunghoon have been married for 2 years now and have been trying for a baby for almost a year.
All tests turned negative and you were starting to think that you were the problem. You promised yourself that if this test turns negative once more, you'll finally visit the doctor for tests.
"You turn it." You shakily whisper, keeping yourself buried on your husband's bare chest. Sunghoon does as he's told and turns the test around with shaking fingers. The sight of two lines makes him breath out shakily.
"Oh my God, baby." He says as he hugs you tight, tears flowing down and wetting your shoulder. His reaction tells you everything and you laugh in joy while your own tears cascades down your cheeks.
Sunghoon kisses you, pouring all his love in the kiss while your tears mixes with his. When he pulls away, he keeps your foreheads connected, his lips pulled in a big smile.
"I love you, we did it baby."
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taglist! ( bold can't be tagged )— @stawberri @saphiranishimurashan @strxwbloody @heesexual74 @jooniesbears-blog @ayablogsblog @teddybeartaetae @gandaengene @snowprincehoon
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nuttersincorporated · 23 hours ago
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Scarecrow: So let me get this straight: a natural disaster carried you and your dog across the uncrossable desert. You and your house fell on top of Nessarose – one of the only independent leaders outside the wizard’s control – and now she’s dead. The people rejoiced because she’d become an intolerant religious extremist.
Dorothy: Yes. I feel really bad though. I didn’t mean to kill anyone!
Scarecrow: You didn’t kill anyone. She died because of the natural disaster. You were just there at the time. Anyway, then my ex-fiancée came down from the sky in a bubble.
Dorthy: You mean Glinda?
Scarecrow: Yes
Dorthy: Then yes. I didn’t know she used to be engaged to a scarecrow.
Scarecrow: I was actually a Winky Prince when we were engaged.
Dorthy: Oh
Scarecrow: Anyway, my ex implied that you might be evil because you aren’t beautiful enough to be obviously good. Then she put Nessarose’s shoes on your feet, told you not to take them off and sent you – on foot – to ask the wizard for help!?
Dorothy: Yes, that about covers it.
Scarecrow: -screaming internally-
Dorothy: Are you okay?
Scarecrow: Me!? I’m just fine! Why do you ask!? You know what? Maybe I should come with you so that you don’t die. Would that be okay!?
Later
The Tin Woodmen: So, you’re saying that the cripple I asked out – to impress Glinda – is dead and Glinda sent you to find the wizard?
Dorothy: I killed a disabled person!?
Scarecrow: Dorthy, we’ve been over this, you didn’t kill anyone. I promise none of this is your fault.
The Tin Woodmen: Who cares about that? Ding dong the bitch is dead! I might finally have a chance with Glinda! Dorthy, I’m coming with you!
Later still
Lion: I am terrified of everything but you say you’re going to see the wizard?
Dorothy: Yes
Lion: Talking animals used to be treated as equal citizens in Oz but now we have no rights at all. As I cub, I was taken from my mother, placed in a cage and kept away from other talking animals. They hoped it would stop me from learning to talk. I was rescued and set free but I grew up alone and without sort of socialisation or education.
Scarecrow: …
Lion: Anyway, I’m sure that if everyone says the wizard is good, then he must be. The mistreatment of animals is probably just a big misunderstanding. If I can have courage and talk to the wizard, I’m sure this whole thing will be sorted out.
Dorothy: Can we just stop for a minute? Will someone please, explain what’s going on? I feel like I’m missing a whole lot of contexts here.
Toto: Just so you know: in later books, in the official original L. Frank Baum Oz series, it will be reveal that all animals in Oz can talk. I just didn’t feel like talking in the first book.
While the Wicked book by Gregory Maguire covers a lot of interesting, important and deep topics; it was unrelentingly depressing and the narration showed little to no sympathy for the women who suffer horrible things.
The L. Frank Baum books – though by no means perfect – have a far more progressive Land of Oz than the one Gregory Maguire wrote about. If fact, Gregory Maguire took a world that had women in most of the important positions of power and turned it into a sexist, racist and patriarchal world.
I prefer Wicked the musical to Wicked the book because the musical brought the fun back.
Dorothy: Did you say something Toto?
Toto: Woof no woof, woof
I’ve seen so many people joke about Glinda being exhausted having to cope with plucky little Dorothy Gale doing her little song while the entirety of act ii of Wicked is occurring in the background. Like the crushing weight of her complicity in an evil system is dragging her to hell and also her fiancé is now a scarecrow and has run off with her situationship. But the act ii context is actually exponentially crazier for Dorothy? Like imagine you are a fifteen year old whose admittedly unambitious dreams of just leaving the farm are already rendered impossible because you are staring down the double barrel of unprecedented rural poverty and climate crisis. You get caught out in a natural disaster and accidentally kill someone and end up straight in the middle of the craziest six-way divorce anyone has ever heard of that is currently actively melting down. No one tells you this. And they’re all taking it out on you. Free her!!!!!!
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psycholuvrgirl · 3 days ago
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duplicity! [teaser]
rafe cameron x sweetheart!pogue!oc [baby porter]
summary: baby porter, the pogue princess, asks rafe cameron out on a date after losing a bet. to her surprise, rafe says yes.
warnings: nsfw (very brief smut)! 
a/n: this is just a teaser for this series. this series will follow the plot of obx, so a lot of it is going to seem very familiar, just with a twist because baby will be in it
wc: 2.1k
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it was meant to be just one simple task: ask rafe cameron on a date. baby lost a bet with jj and the punishment was simple, but the problem is baby porter is, unlike most pogues, terribly shy.
“guys i don’t think i can do it,” she says, glancing across the boneyard where rafe was standing. he has an arm wrapped around his sister, sarah, laughing with kelce and topper about god knows what.
“you lost, baby, you gotta do it. deal’s a deal,” jj says.
“deal’s a deal,” she breathes out. “okay. i can do this.”
“you can do this,” kie assures.
baby stands from the log she was sat in, crossing the sandy expanse until she was right in the lion’s den of kooks. also unlike most pogues, baby got along with most of the kooks—she wasn’t like other pogues, which meant she wasn’t treated like one. so her presence didn’t seem to unnerve anyone in the group.
“sup, baby,” topper says, throwing back a swig of his beer.
“hi baby,” sarah says with a warm smile, “what’s up?”
“uh, well, actually…” baby straightens her back, clearing her throat and doing the best to sound as confident as she can. “i’m here to talk to rafe.”
“me?” rafe asks, pointing the lip of his bottle to his own chest.
“mhm,” baby says with a nod.
the kooks ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at this, making rafe mutter threats at them as he follows baby away. she shoots the pogues a glance—a final plea to be done with this, but they all just give her encouraging thumbs-ups. so she continues to lead rafe to a more secluded area.
“am i in trouble with the pogue princess?” he teases.
“don’t call me that,” baby says through a whisper.
baby isn’t sure when she earned the nickname “pogue princess” but she didn’t like it, not one bit. it made her feel weird, but for some reason the nickname coming from rafe’s lips didn’t seem to bother her as much as it normally would. but she quietly scolds him all the same.
they both take a seat on a large branch that washed ashore, rafe’s whole body turned towards baby as he awaits whatever it is she dragged him out here for. baby clears her throat, uncrossing her legs just to cross them back over.
“so, rafe…” she says.
he lets out a laugh. “so, baby…” he takes a sip of his beer. “what d’ya need?”
if baby has learned one thing from her pogue friends, it’d be to just “let it rip” in any circumstance that could remotely use that advice. so that’s what she does.
“will you go on a date with me?” she asks, words tumbling out faster than even she can comprehend.
“what?” he asks with another laugh, “i have no idea what you just said, b.”
she clears her throat again, sitting up straighter. “i said…” she looks down at her nails, picking at the pink polish coating them. “will you go on a date with me?”
she braces herself for rafe’s reaction. she expects laughter, for him to holler in her face and say the big “no” as if she just asked him for a million dollars.
“sure.”
her eyes bug out of her head, head snapping up to look at him. “what did you just say?”
“sure,” he repeats.
“y— you wanna go on a date? with me?” she asks. a small smile raises to his lips, the smile turning into a quiet chuckle. he nods, and baby’s eyes only widen further. “seriously?”
“yeah, i mean, you’re cute,” he says, “why not?”
her skin burns at the compliment. “you think i’m cute?”
“why do you sound so surprised? you know you’re cute,” he says.
“no i don’t,” she says.
“well…” rafe scoots closer to her, his cologne invading her senses. “i can assure you…” he kisses her left cheek. “that you, baby…” then her right. “are very cute.” his lips meet hers, just for a moment. the kiss is over almost as soon as it began and baby porter is still left a blubbering mess after it. her mouth opens to speak, then closes, then reopens. no words come out though, making rafe laugh just a little more. “how about tomorrow night? i’ll pick you up at around seven?”
she nods wordlessly and he chuckles.
“i’ll see you then,” he says, standing from the branch. he holds out a hand to her and she takes it, letting him pull her up effortlessly.
“see ya,” she breathes out.
he leans over, pressing a kiss to her cheek before walking away. she stands there stunned for far too long, and when she finally snaps back to reality she scurries back to her friends.
“how’d it go?” john b asks.
“should we start planning the wedding?” jj asks.
“he… he said yes,” baby says.
kiara’s head nearly snaps off from how quickly she turns, pope drops his beer on the sand, john b’s jaw falls slack, and jj spits out the beer in his mouth.
“he what?” pope asks.
“you’re going on a date with rafe cameron?” jj asks. before baby can answer, he howls with laughter. “oh my god, that is priceless!”
but, for some odd reason, baby porter didn’t find this funny—not even a little bit, not even at all.
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“what are you even worried about?” jj asks, “it’s rafe fucking cameron. you don’t need to impress the guy, you just need to get this over with.”
a honk from outside pulls baby’s attention away from her friends. “that’s him.”
“we’ll walk you out,” pope says. baby turns to pope with a scrunched face. “what? it’s for safety reasons.”
baby sighs, reluctantly standing and allowing her four friends to follow her out of the chateau. rafe is on his phone, standing next to his car, and looks up at the sound of the front door shutting. he looks over baby’s outfit—a sundress over a bikini, just in case. his eyebrows raise as he looks her over, then his face falls as he notices the pogues behind her.
“have her home by eight,” jj says.
“jay, it’s only seven,” baby says, shooting jj a glare.
“fine. eight thirty,” he says.
“ignore him,” baby says with a small, nervous giggle. rafe laughs with her, but it’s evidently forced for her comfort.
“just, don’t do anything stupid,” kiara says, ever the blunt one in the group. “bring her back in one piece, okay?”
“okay,” rafe says, in hopes that they’d go away. and his wish is granted because they all reluctantly head back inside, tossing looks over their shoulders at baby. she doesn’t seem to notice though. no, not when her focus is on the tall man in front of her.
“hi,” she says.
he smiles. “hi.” he makes his way to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips that makes her heart flutter.
and the rest of the night goes the same. he brings her onto the druthers for a picnic under the stars, bringing them to the middle of the ocean so they have privacy, the stars and a few candles being the only light they have on the deck of the boat.
“have you ever gone night swimming?” baby asks.
“hasn’t everyone?” rafe asks. both of them are laying next to each other, most of the food packed away by now. they stare up at the stars as the silence of the night engulfs them, only breaking the silence every so often.
“probably,” baby says with a laugh, “i guess that was a silly question.”
“did you want to?” he asks, turning his head to look at her. “did you want to go night swimming?”
she turns to him with a bright smile, nodding rapidly. rafe gets up from his spot, helping baby up. he strips off his shirt as she gets rid of her dress. rafe runs and dives off the end of the boat and baby follows him, diving into the cold ocean. they both resurface, letting out joyous laughs when they see each other. 
despite everything she’s been told about rafe cameron, baby actually finds herself having the best night of her life with him. her heart sinks a little at the thought of everyone’s judgements making it take this long for her to ever get to know the beautiful boy in front of her.
“why are you frowning?” rafe asks.
“oh, am i? i didn’t mean to,” she says. baby swims closer to him and he grabs her, letting her wrap herself around him.
“are you not enjoying the date?” he asks.
“no, i am!” she exclaims, her heart quickening at the thought of him believing this is anything other than perfect. “i’m loving tonight, honest!”
“then what’s wrong?” he asks, tucking a soaked strand of hair behind her ear.
“it’s just… you’re so different than what i expected,” she says, “i wish i had asked you sooner.”
rafe doesn’t bother with words. he was never good with words anyways. instead he presses his lips to hers, their lips moving passionately with one another. heads twisting as baby holds onto rafe just that much tighter. like he might slip away if she doesn’t, like the moment might fade to nothing if she lets him go.
the brush of something against her leg has baby scrambling to climb rafe, ruining their perfect kiss as she yelps.
“what was that! something touched my foot!” she exclaims. rafe breaks into a fit of laughter, but she’s still trying to climb him as if he’s a tree. “it’s not funny, rafe!”
she quickly swims over to the side of the boat, hauling herself up and shivering on the ledge. he follows her up and guides her inside. the air is warmer down below and rafe wraps a towel around baby’s shoulders.
“there you go,” he whispers.
“thank you,” she says with a shy smile.
rafe responds by reconnecting their lips, cupping her cheek with one hand as the other lands on her waist. her arms wrap around his neck, letting her hands move through his hair. when his tongue slips against hers, caressing it sensually, she lets out a whimper that goes straight to rafe’s dick.
he gently nudges her down onto the couch. he hovers above her without detaching their lips. he pulls at the tie of her bikini top, slipping the fabric away. he pulls back and looks down at her with hearts in his eyes.
“wow,” he whispers. baby crosses her arm over her chest, but he gently pries it away to continue admiring her. then, he dives in. his lips wrap around one nipple, his hand massaging the other. he switches after some time, leaving baby to mewl at the sensations he’s causing. 
“kiss me again,” she says, trying to pull him up. he obliges, climbing back up to bring their lips back to their prior rhythmic dance together. his hand slips down her body, falling beneath her bikini bottom and massaging her wet slit. she lets out a quiet whimper as he gathers the wetness on his fingers, then a loud moan when he brings his fingers to her clit.
“you like that?” he asks. she nods her head and he dips back down to kiss her, swallowing every moan that falls from her pretty lips.
he slowly pushes one finger inside of her, then another. leaving her a mess underneath him. she grinds up towards him, chasing her own release.
“rafe, please,” she pleads as he slips his fingers in and out of her.
“please what, baby?” he pants. she’s past using words at this point, too lost in her own pleasure to make her mouth form anything coherent. so she takes matters into her own hands, literally. she drops her hand down to cup him, massaging him through his board shorts. she slips her hand inside, wrapping her tiny hand around his length. they both grind into one another’s hands, chasing their highs. when they both get their release they lay there, content with one another’s company. 
interrupted by the ringing of baby’s phone, they both reluctantly go back to the deck to retrieve the device.
“did he kidnap you? what’s taking so long?” kiara asks.
baby rolls her eyes, “i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“tomorrow?” john b shrieks.
“goodbye guys.”
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since that night, rafe and baby have been inseparable. in secret, that is. both went home to report to their friends that the date was just a bust, both knowing that if their friends knew about their successful date that they’d never hear the end of it. so that’s how the relationship went. sneaking out late at night, long weekends spent alone together, calls until the early morning. it worked for them — secret, intimate, and just perfect.
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theweewooshow · 2 days ago
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you taste like cold and lonely nights
bucktommy | 1.5k | prompt: kissing out of habit
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Buck is so goddamned embarrassed.
He’s not even sure how this happened.
He’s babysitting and house sitting for Maddie and Chim while they take a pre-birth vacation for a few days and he very nearly burns their house down.
He stepped outside for a minute to see what Jee was doing in the backyard and then the smoke detector was going off and when he went back inside, the oven was pouring smoke.
He swears this house is actually haunted. That’s the only explanation for why it would spontaneously start smoking the minute he looked away from it.
He turns the oven off, fanning away the opaque smoke as he opens it up to stare at the ruins of what were supposed to be snickerdoodle cookies.
He fans the smoke away from the smoke detector with a kitchen towel and after another minute, the noise stops.
When he opens the back door to let the house air out, he sees Jee looking at him curiously from where she’s assembling the collection of rocks she’s found.
He grins sheepishly and says, “The cookies might take a little longer than expected, but we can have some later, okay?”
She nods and turns back to the rocks and Buck thanks his lucky stars she’s not in the mood to ask any questions.
He returns to the mess and grabs the sheet tray from the oven with the towel in his hand. Half the cookies are pale and gooey, underdone, and the other half are miserable little pieces of coal that stare at him menacingly as he shoots off a text to his group chat Maddie and Chim, letting them know what happened.
How long was the smoke detector going off? is what Chim texts back a handful of minutes later as Buck is cleaning up the mess. Buck furrows his brow as he looks at his phone.
A few seconds later, he hears the telltale sound of a firetruck nearby and he groans audibly.
He forgot that Chim was telling him about their new Hildy security system and how it was hooked up to literally everything in the house, including the smoke detectors. She must have alerted 911 somehow when the alarm went off and they dispatched the fire department.
He texts Chim back, too long.
The series of emojis he gets back has him plotting and scheming Chimney’s demise as he closes the oven and waits for the fire department to show up.
He gets up and heads to the door when he hears the fire truck in front of the house and wonders which fire house he’s about to embarrass himself in front of.
He thinks the 133 is the closest, which is probably a good thing since he’s kind of in Captain Mehta’s good graces. Maybe he can convince him not to let his team tell everyone in the fire department about this.
When the knock at the door comes, he’s already armed with an excuse as he swings the door open to see who’s on the other side.
It feels like all his higher brain function comes screeching to a halt as he wordlessly stares—his eyes flitting from Tommy’s face to his team a few yards back.
“Buck?” Tommy says, confused. He looks at the house number and then back at Buck, like he’s making sure they got the right house—which makes sense since they never got around to coming over here for dinner before they broke up.
“Uh, Tommy, hi,” Buck says when he regains some sense. “Sorry. I, I set the smoke alarm off and Chim has this new Hildy thing that apparently calls 911 when the smoke detector goes off for long enough.”
“Oh, this is Chimney’s house?” he asks.
“Yeah, uh, he and Maddie bought it a while ago. It was haunted, or people thought it was haunted because they thought people got murdered here, but it turns out that was a lie. Except I still think it’s kind of haunted because the cookies I put in the oven were burnt to a crisp after only being in there for like five minutes.”
Tommy nods and chuckles. “Okay, I’m getting a picture of what happened. Give me a sec, I’ll let the others know it was a false alarm.”
Buck appreciates the discretion as Tommy turns back to the others in the driveway to update them, shielding Buck from their line of sight.
When he comes back to the door, Buck is tense as Tommy says, “I just need to do a walkthrough to make sure everything’s alright.”
Buck nods and says, “Oh, uh, sure, sure,” and lets him inside, trying to slow his heartbeat down. “So, why is the 217 responding out here?” Buck asks as he leads Tommy into the kitchen.
Tommy says, “Mehta and his men are at a warehouse fire and we were nearby after finishing up at another false alarm nearby. Those Hildy things are not very good at determining what actually warrants a call to 911.”
“You should definitely tell Eddie your thoughts on Hildy sometime,” Buck says as they come to a stop.
Tommy takes in the whistles lowly. “Yeah, definitely haunted,” he says, a sarcastic lilt to his voice, picking up a blackened cookie off the baking sheet and tapping it against the sheet tray. It thunks loudly against it.
“Yeah, ha ha, laugh it up,” Buck says.
“I’m not laughing at you. Just—you are the only person I know who gets himself into situations like this. Cookies spontaneously turning to char in the oven and AI sending the fire department to the house. It’s kind of Classic Buck.”
“Yeah, I definitely Bucked this one up.”
Tommy glances back over at him after he wipes his hand off. When they make eye contact, they both burst out laughing.
It feels good to laugh, the tension in the room dissipating a little. The laugh lines around Tommy’s mouth and the scrunch of his nose makes something ache inside Buck.
“Maybe it’s me who’s cursed,” Buck says after his laughter subsides.
“Nah,” Tommy says, waving a hand, “These things happen. No curses this time, probably just faulty wiring that created hot spots in the oven.”
“Probably,” Buck agrees.
They stare at each other for a moment before Tommy says, “Well, since I’ve confirmed it was just a false alarm, I should head back out, let you get back to it.”
Buck nods and leads him back to the door.
“It was, um, it was good seeing you,” Buck says, meaning it. He’s been kind of afraid of seeing him again, but seeing him was good. He looks good.
But when Tommy smiles at him, standing only a foot away from him, it’s like he’s transported back to the loft, to all the times Tommy smiled at him in front of the door there.
He’s leaning in before he realizes what he’s doing, his hand sliding up to Tommy’s neck as he drags him into a soft kiss. It’s out of habit to kiss him goodbye at the door like they’ve done a hundred times before.
His brain catches up to what he’s done and he pulls away, about to apologize profusely when Tommy’s hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, like he wants to keep him there.
So Buck stares into Tommy’s eyes and stays put. He leans in again, pressing their mouths more firmly together.
Tommy kisses him back, their heads tilting, their mouth sliding together in a dance they know intimately.
He feels pinpricks in the base of his scalp as their tongues press against each other, as the distance between their bodies closes on instinct, as Tommy’s free hand comes to rest on the small of Buck’s back.
They kiss and they kiss and they kiss, and Buck revels in every single second of it, memorizing the way they fit together.
A knock at the door startles them out of it, snapping them back to reality.
Buck can see Tommy’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and says, “Um, I have to—“ He points over his shoulder and Buck nods stupidly.
“Right, right. You should, you should get back out there,” he says, his heart pounding in his throat.
Tommy turns to leave and Buck feels like crying or maybe screaming. But then Tommy puts his hand on the doorknob and freezes there, not turning the handle to open it.
Something like hope bubbles up inside Buck.
“Hey, Tommy?” he finds himself saying after a few moments of silence.
“Yeah?” Tommy asks, looking back at Buck, his expression open and vulnerable and scared.
“Press send next time,” he says, and then watches as Tommy opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words.
Tommy looks only a little embarrassed as he nods and says, “I’ll do that. Bye, Evan.”
A minute after the door closes, that bubble of hope blossoms as his phone pings with a text.
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drop a kudos or comment on ao3! <3
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mountainsandmayhem · 2 days ago
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BDSMaid - Epilogue
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AN: You can blame Mexico and Onyx Storm for my delay on this one. But for those who are curious, here is our sweet little epilogue for Joel and Freckles. Thank you so much to everyone who read, commented, shared, and encouraged me while writing this story. I love you, and so does Joel and Freckles. XO
Series Masterlist | My Masterlist
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Five Years Later
“You wanna come,” he practically taunts, “Don’t you, sweet girl?” 
Every muscle in your body is weak, causing the leather cuffs of the St. Andrews Cross to rub at your wrists and ankles. He’s been teasing you for hours, stopping every time you’re about to shatter. 
This night has been a long while in the making. After five years with your firm you were finally given the lead on a big case; a case that your boss handed to you and said this was your chance to earn your partnership. You spent upwards of eighty to ninety hours a week preparing and Joel could not have been more perfect during that time. He’d often show up with food or coffee for you and your team of junior lawyers, interns, and paralegals. He never complained when you’d bring work home; however, every time you said something negative about yourself, Joel would mark it on the fridge. Over the three and a half weeks of prep work thirty ticks ended up on the small piece of paper that was hung with a Berkeley magnet. You didn’t have time to ask Joel what they meant, and truthfully, you didn’t really care; you trusted that whatever he planned to do with those ticks was for your own good. 
During the trial, another twelve ticks were added. When the verdict was announced and you had won your case, Joel was there in the courtroom, smiling warmly at you when you glanced back at him. When you got home that evening, after a celebratory round or two of cocktails, Joel made you kneel in front of him as he explained that each tick, all forty two of them, symbolized a denied orgasm, a punishment meant to remind you not to talk bad about things that Joel owns. Especially brilliant lawyers who win their first big case and secure themselves as partner.  
As he strapped you to the padded X shaped piece of furniture tonight, he said, ‘if you’re the sweet girl I know you to be, then you won’t whine when I stop. Instead, you’ll say “Thank you, Mister Miller” and I’ll count that as two. Forty two orgasms being denied is not going to be easy, so do yourself a favour and don’t whine; you don’t want to know what happens if you do.’
The only response to his teasing that you can muster now is a whimper and a nod. He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Use your words, honey.”
Your voice is almost silent. “Yes, Mister Miller.”
He walks behind you, trailing the small vibrator along your skin. “Such a good girl for me tonight. Saying yes to everything. Remind me, how many orgasms have I denied you so far?”
Your pussy throbs with the deep timber of his voice, this is truly torture and your safeword is on the tip of your tongue. “Twenty one,” you mumble.
“Poor, sweet girl,” He says from behind you, leaning in closely to whisper in your ear. “Did you learn your lesson?”
“Yes, Mister Miller.” You swallow the dry lump in your throat.
“Should I let you pick how you want to come?”
He completes his circle around you and the crossing, stepping in close to you. He uses the little vibrator to gently tease your nipples. You can barely form a thought and just let a small ‘yes’ mixed with moans leave your lips as your sweat covered back arches off the padded back of the cross. The heat of Joel’s body this close makes you feel like you’re on fire. 
“Want to come on my fingers?” He asks, then easily slips three of them inside of you. Your gaze shoots to his as a strangled cry fills the room. 
“Yesyes - fuuuuck, please.” You feel your pussy tightening around his digits.
“What about my cock? You love being stuffed full of my thick cock while I strum your clit. Don’t you? My perfect little slut.” He teases you further by pumping his fingers forward once, revelling in the feel of you clenching tighter around him. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he continues.
“No, I know,” his fingers slip out from your pussy and you gasp, unable to protest in your weakened state. Not that you would protest; you know better than to do that, and he told you not to whine tonight. You are a good girl, you know that what your dom says is best. Plus, you need to come so badly that you think you might actually die if you don’t, and Joel is just sadistic enough to keep you like this for days. 
He gets onto his knees, his warm breath hitting your cunt as he speaks. “What if I put my lips around this swollen little clit? Huh? Suck her into my mouth and drink up every ounce of your cum?”
He uses his thumbs to pull the lips of your pussy further apart. He’s so close that your breath catches in your throat at the promise of relief. He blows cool air along your soaked pussy; you clench your molars together and focus on your breathing. You don’t come until he tells you. 
“Would you like that, my sweet girl?”
The restraints cut at your wrists when you try to push your hips to his mouth. “Yes. Yes. Please, Mister Miller.”
He stands abruptly, hand wrapping around the hair at the nape of your neck before he tugs to bring your gaze up to his. The pull of your hair relaxes the muscles of your neck and upper back and you melt into the padded cross.
His eyes darken as he asks, “You really would say yes to anything, wouldn’t you?” 
“Y-yes. I just need to come. Please.” He releases your hair, stepping back and crossing his arms. The veins on his forearms pop, the sleeves of his rolled black dress shirt tightening under his biceps. Since officially retiring, he’s had a strict exercise regime. He was sexy when you met him almost ten years ago, but like a fine wine, he gets better with each passing year.
The gravel in his voice returns, “But you’d say yes even if I told you we were done for the night and it was time to get dressed. Right?” 
Your eyes clench close, head falling back as the panic of not getting to come tonight races through your mind. You take a calming breath before whispering, “Yes, Mister Miller.” 
“Eyes on me, sweet girl.” You peel your eyes open and tilt your chin down to look at him. His hands are now buried in his pockets, and there’s a shift in how he’s looking at you, a slight softness to his dark eyes. 
“And what if I asked you to marry me?” His voice is shy and raspy.
He slowly pulls a ring out of his pocket and holds it up for you. A thin, gold band with a single, albeit very large, solitaire diamond on it sends sparkles all around the room. Tears line your lash line, mirroring his. He clears his throat softly.
“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweet girl. Listen carefully for me,” he pockets the ring and steps closely, wiping the happy tear that rolls down your cheek. The rough whorls on his thumb send goosebumps cascading down your body. “First, I’m going to make you come. Then, I’m going to untie you, get you all cleaned up, and get some sugar into you.”
You nod, leaning into his touch as cups your face. His eyes dart towards the bed as he says, “After that, we are getting to that bed so I can kiss you until neither of us can breathe.”
“And then,” he smiles sweetly, a tear rolling from the corner of his deep brown and honey flecked eye to his greying beard. “And then I’m going to ask you to marry me.”
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Okay I think we need to get on the same page. By "perfect lyctorhood" I did NOT mean a version of lyctorhood that I, the reader, think is perfect in that it's ethical and good and everyone is happy and gonna ride off into the sunset. I meant a version of lyctorhood where both the necromancer and cavalier are intact, in seperate bodies, and alive.
FOR THE RECORD, I was pointing out similarities between characters who have come close/achieved it with Harrow and Gideon, and pointing out a pattern of John saying something is impossible, only for Harrow to do it with Gideon anyway. I just think when its established that everyone in history is trying to do X thing and many have come close but none have succeeded, the natural conclusion is that someone's gonna figure it out before the series is over.
HOWEVER!!! I don't think this is necessarily going to be a happy ending. For one, the series tells us at every moment possible that Immortality SUCKS. For all of HTN we are brain blasted with the worst most foul found family known to man because they are simply too old and unkillable to be normal to each other. We watch a man who was once so hellbent on not leaving any humans behind that he became an enemy of the state become a shell of himself, at best neutral to the billions of senseless deaths he causes and, at worst, happy about it.
In contrast, the most content, loving, and fulfilled character in the series is alive for all of six months. Nona knows she's gonna die, and she loves anyway! It's this beautiful interrogation of eternal life as a religious reward for good behavior. Yeah, maybe sounds good on paper, but what would you do that would make you happy for forever? Especially if your religion taught you to sacrifice your own self worth or ignore the personhood of others in order to achieve eternity. How are you gonna spend your time? Doing the same shit you did just to get there, probably. And chances are, it'll make you miserable.
We KNOW normal lyctorhood sucks in that it's necessarily exploitative. Culture in the nine houses has justified and draped pretty lace around what is essentially raising people to be so subservient that they let themselves become human batteries. Because of how ghoulish this is, it's easy to assume that perfect lyctorhood would be a good, ethical alternative. But just because both people are alive doesn't mean there can't still be abuse and exploitation! In fact, in the ONLY example of someone actually becoming a perfect lyctor, John does it to Alecto against her will! And THEN because he can't kill her, he imprisons her in the tomb. Doesn't sound like a very fun religious tier reward to me but idk!!!
So basically, there is no ethical lyctorhood under capitalism. In the best case scenario where the necromancer doesn't subjugate the cavalier, they're still alive FOREVER, every year getting farther and farther away from what made them human. Maybe they end up like Augustine and Mercymorn, with all their conflicts over the years congealing into a weird toxic occasional hate sex misogyny-fuelled situationship. Maybe they never speak again and have to spend the rest of forever completely alone.
Point is, as much of a relief as it would be to see Gideon and Harrow in the same room again, I don't think perfect lyctorhood is a happy ending for anyone. I have no doubt in my mind that they're gonna do it, but i have a LOT of doubts about what fresh hell it's gonna wreak when they do.
if the locked tomb doesnt end with gideon and harrow both alive and whole having achieved perfect lyctorhood i will eat my own hat.
alecto and john are the only perfect lyctors right? alecto, who is made of several million dead people, and john who is god. youre telling me that harrow "made of 300 dead babies" nonagesimus and gideon, whose dad is god, aren't gonna do it? youre telling me harrow's biological ancestor is the only saint to never become a lyctor because she came so close to figuring it out that her cavalier was killed to prevent it. you're talking about harrow, who opened the tomb at ten with nothing but sheer determination and accidentally getting a little bit of god blood under her nails and gideon, who we keep being told cannot and will not die, won't end up alive? is that what you're saying? bc john says two things are impossible; opening the tomb and perfect lyctorhood. but those are only two things and Harrow already did one of em. does she seem like a quitter to you?
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beloveds-embrace · 2 days ago
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(a series in which you are a witch living in the woods, and a group of knights have decided to keep you safe and sound in exchange for kisses and charms.)
Johnny’s arrival was always a joyous affair, heralded by the lilting whistle that preceded him through the trees, hung up bells tinkling through the breeze. You recognized the tune before you even saw him, a signal of his approach as familiar as the rustling leaves and the delighted the hum of your wards.
“Hello, bonnie lass!” he called, stepping into view with his usual bright grin. He strode up to your door with an armful of wildflowers, their petals slightly crushed but still vibrant. “Brought these for you. Dinnae ask what they are- I just grabbed the prettiest ones I could find.”
You laughed, reaching out to accept the bouquet. The mix of blooms, some medicinal, some purely ornamental, spoke of his eager hands plucking whatever caught his eye. But you didn’t mind- the thought was appreciated regardless. “They’re beautiful, Johnny. Thank you.”
“Ah, well. Pretty flowers for a pretty lass.”
You shook your head fondly and stepped aside to let him in. Johnny’s presence was like a burst of sunlight through the dense canopy, and the magic in your cottage reacted to him like ivy reaching for warmth. The air inside seemed lighter when he was near, the flickering candle flames burning just a little steadier, the herbs hanging from the rafters swaying as if drawn to his energy. Even the floorboards, which creaked under every step but yours, barely made a sound when he moved- perhaps the house itself leaned into his presence, unwilling to startle the warmth he carried
As you arranged the flowers in a ceramic vase, he leaned against your wooden table, arms crossed, grin never fading. “You’ll never believe what happened today!” He began, and without any prompting began retellinh you of his day.
You listened with rapt attention as he spoke of training exercises gone awry, not unusual, of weapons misfiring, and- his personal favorite- Gaz slipping face-first into the mud.
“And then wham! Right into the muck, poor bastard! I swear, he was swimming in it!” Johnny cackled, slapping a hand against the table. He kept in mind not too slap too hard, and away from your little bottles.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Poor Gaz. You’re terrible for finding it so funny.”
“He’ll live,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. His face softened as he watched you place the flowers in the vase, the firelight catching in your hair. “Got anything for me today, lass?”
You reached for a small leather cord, from which dangled a small, hand-carved wooden charm, smoothed by your touch and etched with runes only you could read.
“For speed and sure footing,” you tied it around his wrist, your touch sure and gentle. “You’re quick enough already, but this should help in a chase- or when dodging.”
Johnny turned his hand, studying the charm with quiet admiration. His fingers brushed against the carvings, tempered by something more serious and came. “Aye, that’ll come in handy.”
He flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of the charm- or perhaps the weight of the thought behind it. When he looked back at you, his smile was different. Softer.
“Cheers, lass. You are a delight.” He murmured, and it was almost reverent.
As he turned to leave after stealing some cookies, you tugged him down for a quick, fleeting kiss on the cheek.
He winked at you, and his grin returned. “Careful, hen. I might get used to this.”
“As if you already aren’t… but anyways. Thank you for dropping by!”
You loved his visits, truly. They were always so… carefree. But little did you know, his visits weren’t always as untroubled as they seemed.
Earlier that day, before his cheerful whistle cut through the trees, Johnny had dealt with a different kind of visitor- one he would never tell you about.
No need to worry your pretty head, after all.
A small group of the crown’s men had wandered too close to your woods, their voices carrying through the underbrush. Johnny had been returning from a patrol, then on hisbway to you, when he spotted them, their armor glinting brightly in the midday light. They spoke in hushed tones, movements cautious as they studied the ancient trees around them for any traces that could lead them to you.
“Reckon she’s real?” one of them muttered.
“Don’t be daft. ‘Course she is. Locals swear by it.” Another replied. “A witch, hidden out here, practicing magic. If the king knew- ”
“Shut it,” the third man snapped. “We get caught sniffing around lile this with no evidence, we’ll have bigger problems than a witch’s curse.”
Johnny had heard enough.
With the ease of a man who moved like he belonged in the wild, he circled behind them, steps silent. By the time they realized they weren’t alone, he was already there.
The first man barely had time to turn before Soap grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back, slamming him against a tree. The others froze, their hands inching toward their weapons. In the face of a knight like him, they couldn’t even pretend to hold a little respect. Nothing more than fear.
“Now, now,” Johnny crooned, deceptively light. “What are you fine gentlemen doin’ in these woods?”
The man in his grasp stammered. “We- we were just-“
“Just stickin’ your noses where they don’t belong?” Johnny interrupted, his grip tightening. “Bad idea, lads. Very bad idea.”
One of the soldiers shifted on his feet. “We- we meant no harm. Just heard stories-“
“Aye, you heard stories,” Soap repeated darkly. “And I suggest you keep ’em as stories. ‘Cause if you so much as breathe a word about these woods to the wrong folk, I’ll make sure you don’t leave ’em.”
The threat hung heavy in the air. None of them doubted he meant it.
“You understand me?” Soap asked, bright blue eyes- you often likened them to the ocean- now cold and sharp.
They nodded, their confidence crumbling under the weight of his presence.
“Good lads.” Johnny laughed, finally releasing the man in his grasp. He clapped a hand against the soldier’s shoulder, grin returning- but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Now, off you go. And remember: some places aren’t meant to be found.”
The men didn’t need to be told twice. They turned and fled, disappearing into the underbrush without a second glance.
Soap waited until their footsteps faded before letting out a slow breath. He rolled his shoulders, casting a glance toward the distant outline of your cottage, hidden safely within the forest’s embrace.
You’d never know.
He wouldn’t let you.
By the time he reached you, his usual mirth had returned, and the only thing he carried with him was a bouquet of wildflowers and the promise of laughter.
The flower field did so nicely to mask and wash away the scent of blood clinging to him, after all.
Witch of the Wood Masterlist || Simon “Ghost” Riley
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arabellasleopardcoat · 21 hours ago
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Summer (Cregan Stark x Reader)
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A/N: I can finally wrap up my romcom! Big romantic gesture ahead. Check the masterlist of this series here, if you are new. And to my lovely, lovely readers, thank you for staying wityh me during this madness.
Warnings: My anxious introverted reader being anxious (Shocker) Cregan has self-doubts. Mature language.
YOU ARE HAVING a terrible day. It surprises you because that doesn’t happen as often any longer. Today, you would rather not talk to anyone, much less Cregan, whose hovering would only serve to make you more anxious. Today, you want to crawl under the covers with your comfort book and pretend to be dead. 
Yet, you cannot. Because you can’t find the damn book anywhere. You are sure the compilation of histories of Old Valyria Daemon had given you has to be in your rooms.
You have pulled open all your desk’s drawers, checked the bedside table twice, checked the bed, even beneath it. Not even your chest with linens was spared. It’s nowhere. 
With little choices left, you have begun searching the nursery too, but haven’t quite mastered the courage to search Cregan’s solar. You remember taking the book alongside you to read as you kept him company sometimes, but do not recall leaving it there. 
You feel torn. Cregan and you are getting along now, but you still hesitate going to him with your troubles. Not only you had leftover guilt even though you have both chosen to move on from your rivalry, you also prided yourself on being independent. 
Asking him or anyone for help always makes you feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want others to perceive you as weak. 
Stop. You are being silly, you tell yourself. It’s not like you are about to ask him to solve your life, you only will inquire if he has seen your book. 
Still. What if he thinks less of you for being careless with your things? Or if he thinks you are being overly sentimental to get this worked up over a book? 
Worse, what if he thinks you are accusing him of stealing? 
You let out a groan. You are overthinking. Your bad days often include a lot of anxiety, and today it is a bad day. A terrible one, that will be worse if you don’t find your beloved book. Determined, you march to Cregan’s solar and knock on his door. 
“Aye?” He calls out, northern accent on full display, and you can’t help that your knees get a little weak.
“Cregan? May I come in?” Suddenly, your bravery and determination have deserted you. Your voice comes out squeaky as a mouse. By the Fourteen Flames, to love is to be humbled, it seems. 
“You always may, wife.” You wince at being addressed as such. You suppose it’s a good thing he isn’t calling you by your full title any longer. 
Pushing open the door, you step inside. Cregan is seated on his desk, a frown on his face. He is squinting at some maps, in the way he sometimes does. His frown softens when he sees you, standing on the door. 
“I enjoy how my colors look on you.” Cregan rumbles, a pleased smile forming on his face. Today, you are wearing one of the warmest dresses you own, in a pale gray. It’s made of velvet, and you enjoy how it feels over your skin. You had commissioned it after you arrived at Winterfell, using the generous pocket money that Cregan allowed you. 
You had to give it to the man. No matter how annoying you had been at first, he had never been tight-fisted with your allowance. 
“Thank you.” You feel your cheeks heating up, and fight the urge to fan your face. What you don’t manage to fight is the urge to preen under his gaze. 
Cregan chuckles. You narrow your eyes at him. Is he mocking you? He lifts his hands in surrender, attuned as he is to your moods. 
“Apologies. It’s cute, that’s all.” 
“The dress?” 
“You.” And it’s said with such disarming honesty, you do not know what to say. You search his face, yet his expression is so open, so fond, no hint of mockery can be found. It’s…  Cregan must be thinking of her, for sure. That expression doesn’t mean anything. “What were you here for?”
You clear your throat. 
“Um. I was… I lost my book.” 
“What book?” Cregan asks, shifting his maps aside. He is clearing his desk, you realize. “The one about the conquest?” 
“No, not that one.” Your voice turns shyer still. Secretly, it pleases you that he remembers what you had been reading last week. “It has a brown leather cover and the title is in gold.” 
“The one in High Valyrian?” And his tone is casual. Far too casual. You begin to worry that your book might have met its end. You look him in the eyes, but find little there. Cregan has an impeccable blank face. He gives nothing away. “Check the selves. Maybe it is there.” 
You turn around and begin doing so. But the more titles you check, the more nervous you become. Cregan is an organized man, his books are carefully separated by subject. The servants know to keep to his order, when he rarely leaves them lying around. 
Your book would stand out. You know it. A tight knot of anxiety begins to settle on your stomach. As you reach the lower shelves, you feel tears gathering in your lash line. You cannot believe you are about to cry over a book. 
Cregan will never love you. He will go right back into thinking you are some soft southron, with no spine. No one cries over books. He will think you are ridiculous. 
Despite your back being to him, he seems to sense something is wrong.
“Love? Is everything alright?” 
“I cannot find it.” You whine, losing your battle with the tears. “My book. It’s really important that I find it.” 
You hear him get up, and walk closer to you. He hugs you from behind, holding you to him. 
“Shh… I know. I have been unkind to you.” You are confused about his words, but not enough that you reject the comfort of his embrace. Cregan is warm against your back, and smells faintly of parchment and leather. There is something herbal clinging to his skin, too. His smell and his size make you feel safe. He is tall enough that his form covers yours completely.“I took your book.” 
You flinch. Your hackles begin to rise. Your sadness leaves, clouded by absolute wrath.  
“What?” 
“I wanted to gift you something. It’s being copied by the Maester as we speak. I wanted it to be a surprise, I know how much you love it.” He nuzzles your neck, and it pacifies you slightly. The prospect of a gift entices you, especially if it is a copy of your favorite book. Perhaps Cregan will have it nicely bound.  “I regret it now. Knowing how much you love it, I should have known it would upset you.”
“I wanted to read it today.” You complain, still sad. It has been an awful day for you. “I do not feel so well.” 
“Of course, sweetling.” Cregan drops a kiss to your crown. “I’ll have it delivered to you. Would you mind lending it to me tomorrow? You can recall it anytime during the day if you need it, like now.” 
“Alright.” You whisper, softly. Cregan gathers you in his arms again, and moves the two of you to the loveseat. There, he settles you in his lap. He takes of his cloak and drapes it over you. This way, you are fully surrounded by his warmth and smell.
He calls a servant. True to his word, the book is back in your hands in less than half an hour. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading in his lap. 
Suddenly, your bad day doesn’t seem so bad. 
WHEN HE FEELS like an inconsiderate brute, Cregan tries to think happier thoughts. While grief and self-doubt do not chase him as much as they chase you, he is still a widower with a wife who despised him at first. 
Often, gazing upon Rickon or you is enough to help him feel more settled. More at peace with himself. His son is well adapted enough, he reasons, as he sees him run around the courtyard. You do not despise him, he thinks, as you curl by his side. 
Today, neither is working. Rickon and you are together, a picture that normally would serve to pull him out from his brooding. Of course, since Rickon is on the floor wailing, it isn’t quite working. 
Cregan has a headache. The pain is spreading from his jaw, towards his cheekbones, and from there turning into sharp icicles that feel like they are being stabbed in his skull. 
The day has been long. He had ridden out at dawn to deal with some wildings near Wintertown, and then had to answer his correspondence. The dammed Greens would not stop pestering him to switch sides and hand you over, alternating between threats and flattery. 
As if the Starks were some miserable turncloaks who betrayed their oaths. As if Cregan would just hand over his wife to some usurping cunts. 
The nerve of those Hightowers knew no bounds. What was next? Demanding a Sept be built in Wintertown for those false gods of theirs? 
And if that wasn’t enough to make his day terrible, during the afternoon Cregan had received an outraged Sara. Apparently, for some unknown reason, she had received an offer to become Lady Cerwin And for another unknown reason, it was the most terrible fate. Ever. 
Rickon keeps screaming. He has been that way for a while. Cregan had been alone with him, watching him play on the rug with his blocks, when he had started crying and wouldn’t stop. 
Cregan had tried picking him up, rocking him, walking him back and forth, but nothing helped. One of the servants must have heard and alerted you because you had appeared looking disgruntled.
You had been in the middle of your quiet time, as Cregan enjoyed calling it. Awkward Princesses who hated socializing needed time to recover from hearing petitions during the day. He had realized so when he started teaching you to pass judgement. 
As the time for Cregan to march south to defend your mother’s claim became more imminent, he was giving you more and more responsibilities in Winterfell. That way, you would be prepared to hold the North when he left. Prepared to protect his Kingdom and his son. 
“Tower! Tower!” Rickon wails, as you pick him. Your face is as tired a Cregan feels. His head is heavy. He cannot stand Rickon screaming any longer. By the gods, Cregan is a terrible father. He cannot even calm his son when he needs him. After his many attempts to calm him down were unsuccessful, he had just set him down. 
“What’s the matter, sweet boy?” You ask, holding Rickon close to your heart. Rickon continues to cry. You meet Cregan’s eyes over his son’s head. 
Cregan shrugs. He is unsure of what triggered the tantrum. 
“Shh, all is well. I get overwhelmed too, sometimes.” You say, and Cregan gets the feeling you are talking to him and not to Rickon. “But we can’t rebuild your tower if you are getting all wiggly.”  
This is about the building blocks, Cregan realizes. He feels like a terrible father. A failure. 
Bennard’s words come to mind once more. How can you govern the North if you can’t govern yourself? You failed.
Your swordsmanship is poor, and you still are a pup crying for your parents. You cannot rule. 
He had heard a variation of those words for years, every time he had tried to push his claim. And look, Cregan knows he is not a poor swordsman, and he has tried his best to rule. Men don’t cry, but he does it occasionally. Rarely. His tears never dry out, no matter how old he grows, but it is the only thing of Bennard’s words that came true. That isn’t so bad, is it? 
You have settled on the floor, Rickon on your lap. He still cries, but he has stopped shrieking. You have started building a tower on your own. 
“I think I will place my princess here. And a dragon here.” You explain, as if you are building some great castle. Rickon stares, transfixed by you. Cregan understands the feeling all too well. He remembers the weight of you in his lap, the warmth of your skin against him, your smell. He has been unable to get the memory out of his mind in days. 
It would be pleasant, a session of cuddling with his wife, were it not for the circumstances that lead up to it. All Cregan’s fault. 
“A shame you want to keep crying and won’t help. I suppose I shall have to ask your father to play with me.” Your eyes are coy. You give Cregan a glance, and his lips form a smile despite himself. Of course you would try bribery. 
Of course, it works. Rickon picks up the first block, still sniffling. 
“No! Father isn't a Princess. You are!” 
“You are right, Rickon.” You agree, as if it were the most natural thing. “Silly me. He is a wolf. We should build him a Wolfswood.” 
And so, Rickon forgets his tantrum, settled by your gentle touch and encouraging words. And Cregan’s heart soars. 
“MILADY, LORD STARK wishes for your company.” One of the serving girls says, eyes downcasted. You pause in your perusal of the granary, making a quick note on your ledger. As the Lady of Winterfell, it falls to you to ensure the castle has supplies enough for winter, or so Cregan says. You find the Northern’s obsession with the season a bit much, but considering little grows here, you too would feel better knowing you have enough grain if something happens. 
“Right now?” Considering he had been the one to send you on this errand, it confuses you a little. He must have known taking stock of the granary would take you all day. 
“As soon as you can come. It’s not urgent, but he wishes to see you soon.” 
You feel nerves creep up on you. Cregan never summons you. When he wants your company, he simply appears near you or waits for a meal to invite you to spend time with him. 
You can’t help it. War and grief had frayed your nerves. These days, you feel like everything could be a sign of bad news. 
It’s not urgent, you repeat to yourself. It’s not urgent, it’s not urgent, you chant in your head, but your steps towards the inside of Winterfell are hurried. 
The castle is unusually quiet. The maid guides you to one of the unused wings of the castle, one near Cregan’s rooms. You have never asked, but you know these were the rooms his uncle used to inhabit when trying to usurp him. The man had never dared taking the lord’s rooms from Cregan, lingering near instead, a feeling you understand too well. 
Your husband is a formidable man. You wouldn’t want to cross him, either. 
The serving girl hesitates when the two of you reach a big oaken door. 
“What is it?” You ask her, with a frown. “Why do you linger?”
She doesn’t answer. She simply shoots you a shy smile. Annoyed at her shyness, you push the door open yourself. Your breath catches. 
When you step inside, it is as if you are stepping inside your storybook. The walls are covered with tapestries depicting some of the prettier illustrations, priestesses wearing amethysts, dragons of shining ivory, lovers holding hands. 
The room is decorated in understated creams and golds, the furniture made of the finest woods. Despite the themes of the decoration, it is clearly meant to be a Lady’s solar, even if not attached to your rooms. 
There is a soft, woven carpet that cushions your every step. It is made of pure white fur, to combine tastefully with the rest of the decoration. You can already tell it will feel like heaven on your bare feet, even through your boots. It must have cost a fortune. 
Near two, giant windows, a low table sits. It holds a vase very familiar to you, shaped in the form of a dragon. It is filled with winter roses, though you had seen it before in Dragonstone, full of your mother’s favorite flowers. 
There is a fireplace, as it is customary in almost all the rooms in Winterfell. On its mantle, small toys and mementos from your childhood sit. Near the fireplace, a small sitting area awaits, with comfortable looking armchairs and loveseats, and a low table in which a tea set, painted with Valyrian motives, rests. 
There is a desk in a corner, much bigger than yours, and a small bookshelf, that resembles the layout Cregan has in his own solar. It has sparse books, but all of them are in High Valyrian. Your favorite book has a place of honor, right in the middle of the highest shelf. 
Yet, the true star of the room lies on the back of it. There is a huge round table, like the one from your stories, made of sturdy wood, that resembles the one from the war room from Dragonstone. Not only are the Seven Kingdoms featured, but also Essos, Sothoryos, the Summer Islands and even Great Moraq. Cregan is in the middle of lighting the table, struggling with how one is supposed to do it. 
“How..?” You babble, astonished. To assemble this… You understand now why he had needed your book so many times. The time and care put into building this room, so delightfully whimsical yet honoring your culture at the same time… Your eyes prickle with tears. 
“We can send it back.” Cregan says, alarmed by your tears. “If you…” 
“No!” You say, with an energy that surprises you. You take the candles from his hands and begin lighting the table the proper way. “This is… My home. And my book.”
Cregan’s face is uncharacteristically unsure.
"I hoped it would remind you of where you came from. Of whom you are. A Princess of Dragonstone. My Princess.” 
“You did this… for me?” Your hands tremble as you set the table alight. All the known world, on display for you. In a war table. It is only then that it registers.  
Cregan is willing to go to war for you. Kill in your name. Lay the whole world at your feet.  You have to grip the back of one of the chairs as to not fall down, knees weak. 
“I know you are far from home. And I haven’t… We haven’t always been on the best terms, but you never shied away from your duties. I wanted to give you something that was about you.” 
“I never thought you saw me.” You whisper. “I… I owe you an apology. For everything. For insulting you, when I arrived, for speaking of Lady Arra, for… For not seeing you either, at first.” 
You have been blind, you realize, as you look at your book come to life in this room. The man who had given it to you had shown you that one could form a family with a widow and cherish their sons as if they were your own.
Daemon wasn't a kind man, but he was loyal to family. You were far kinder. If he could do it, and be happy, so could you.
“There is no need to apologize to me.” Cregan gathers you in his arms, and presses a kiss to your lips. His own are chapped from the cold, yet the only thing you feel is his warmth. And for two people as different as winter and summer, you find that your bodies do understand each other. 
It takes Cregan but a week to convince you after that. The first letter you write in your new desk begins as it follows: 
“Dear Jacaerys, I want you to know that I am completely, perfectly, incandescently happy…”
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onceinablueberrymoon · 2 days ago
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i spy | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader
scenario: after their “chance” meeting a couple months prior, pregnant!reader befriended gi-hun, and the two began meeting up occasionally for lunch, much to the salesman’s dismay. but now that reader’s gained gi-hun’s trust, it’s the perfect opportunity to gain some intel. setting: a few months after season 1; please read part 1 and part 2 first for added context! word count: 1.7k warnings: pregnant!reader; deception (poor gi-hun); no use of y/n; second person POV notes: i love domestic salesman so much (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) he will remain alive in my heart lol. there’s at least three parts left to this series, culminating in season 2 events. the next one should be coming soon, so stay tuned! this part is a big one, with lots of fluff, as always. please enjoy! borders by @enchanthings-a and @strangergraphics-archive!
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Sunlight filtered through the curtains of your bedroom. You cracked open your eyes. It was morning. 
Glancing over your shoulder, you saw your husband, still asleep. His expression was peaceful. ‘Good,’ you thought, ‘he needs it.’ He rarely got a good night’s sleep as he was regularly plagued by nightmares of his traumatic past. 
You sat up slowly, resting one hand on your back and the other on your large stomach. With the baby due in a few short weeks, you tried not to overexert yourself. Not that your husband would let you, anyway.
You picked up your phone from the nightstand and noted the time: 10:00 a.m. It’d been a long time since you slept in this late.
Most of your unread messages were spam, but one text caught your eye.
Message from Seong Gi-hun: Would you like to meet for lunch? I’ll be passing by your area today. 
You’d been rather proud of your connection with Gi-hun. Ever since you first met him at the Incheon Airport subway station, you’ve maintained a casual friendship. While he had never spoken a word about the Games, he often told you stories about his daughter and his friends. You suspected he was quite lonely and isolated, and he had yet to use much of his winnings. Even so, you had somehow become his friendly confidante. 
You put your phone to sleep and closed your eyes, leaning your head back on the bed’s headboard.
Your husband and you had agreed that you would need to start asking Gi-hun for information about the Games soon. Although you knew where Gi-hun was most of the time, you didn’t know what he was planning on doing if he found your husband. He seemed determined to interfere with the Games, but you weren’t sure how he would go about doing that. 
The goal was to learn more from Gi-hun, and you would begin executing your plan today.
You felt a shifting movement from beside you, and you looked down to see your husband cuddling into your side. When he couldn’t put his arm around your large bump, he wrapped it around your thigh. 
“Comfortable?” you chuckled. He nodded sleepily, pressing closer to you. You ran a hand through his fluffy, mussed-up hair. He lifted his head to softly kiss your belly. Your heart swelled – you loved him so much.
“While I would love to stay in bed and cuddle, I have to get ready. Gi-hun offered to meet me for lunch.” You gently unraveled yourself from your husband’s hold. This seemed to have woken him up more.
“I’ll send some guards to keep an eye on you.” He sat up, reaching over to his nightstand to make a call using the landline phone that was reserved for work.
You groaned, “I’ll be fine. Gi-hun wouldn’t dare touch me, not while I’m pregnant. And besides, I have a cover story. I’ll say I saw you playing ddakji with someone on the subway, but keep the details vague. Easy peasy.”
Your husband didn’t look convinced. 
“I’ll tell them not to wear their uniforms. They’ll be undercover.”
You let out a big sigh. You weren’t winning this one.
“Fine. But I’m not bailing them out if they get caught.”
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“So I saw something odd the other day…” You said nonchalantly, taking a bite of your sandwich. Gi-hun seemed intrigued as he dug into his own sandwich.
“These two men were playing ddakji in the middle of the subway station.” Gi-hun froze, mid-bite. You continued, “Can you believe it? I thought ddakji was just some kid’s game, not something played by grown men.”
You ignored his bewildered expression. “And to make it even weirder, one man slapped the other after he lost!” Gi-hun looked at you with a thousand-yard stare. You cheered in your mind – you knew you had gotten to him.
“Gi-hun-ssi?” You questioned, blinking your eyes innocently. 
“...What station?” He whispered.
“I’m… I’m not sure. Maybe Yaksu? My mind’s been all over the place late-” 
Gi-hun cut you off. “Was he dressed as a businessman? Did you see where he went afterwards?”
You nodded, “He was in a grey suit. My train came while they were still playing.” You paused. This was the moment of truth. “What’s going on? Do you know him?”
Gi-hun took a deep breath. “You may not believe me, but that salesman… He works for an organization that kills people by forcing them to play children’s games for money.”
You snorted. “Children’s games? Like what, hide and seek?”
His expression hardened. “Exactly. But it isn’t just games. People died. I was there.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I won.” 
He proceeded to tell you everything. About the pink guards, the types of games he played, the frontman in charge… Nothing you didn’t already know, but you weren’t going to tell him that.
“And that man you saw, the salesman… He recruits players by playing ddakji. If you win, he gives you 100,000 won and a card to join the games.”
You did your best to look skeptical. Really, it wasn’t hard since most people would think he was out of his mind by this point. 
But you gave him hope.
“I believe you, Gi-hun-ssi.” You turned to face him. His intense gaze softened. “If I see that man slapping people again, I’ll let you know.” 
Technically, you weren’t lying, since your husband didn’t slap you at home (unless you asked, of course). You had both agreed that slapping people’s faces was strictly a work thing.
Gi-hun’s hand lurched forward to grab yours, but his grip loosened out of fear of hurting you. 
“Promise me,” his voice shook, “promise me that you won’t approach him. Who knows what he’ll do… Especially in your condition.” Both your gazes wandered down to your swollen belly. 
“I would never endanger my baby.” You placed a protective hand over your stomach.
Gi-hun gave you a tight-lipped smile. “I recently called my former loaner and he’s agreed to assemble a team to search for the salesman.” He let his head drop into his hands. “We have to find this man before the next games start.”
“This loaner of yours… How do they plan on finding the salesman?” You asked cautiously.
Gi-hun lifted his head. “They plan on searching the subway stations from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. The salesman will surely be out recruiting people during that period.” He turned to you again. “I didn’t mean to bring you into all of this. If you see that salesman again though,” he looked at you, his eyes pleading, “call me immediately. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”
Again, you nodded, this time with more conviction.
The rest of your time together was silent for the most part, an uneasiness lingering in the air. All that mattered, though, was that you had fully gained Gi-hun’s trust. But how much longer would you be able to keep it?
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Returning home from your lunch appointment, you open the front door to see your husband lounging on the sofa, his feet propped up on the low coffee table. Upon noticing your arrival, he closed the book he was reading and put it aside. 
“I’ve got some key information!” You sang, waving your arm to greet your husband. He smiled, standing up to meet you at the doorway. 
“What did my detective learn today?” He took your hand and led you to sit on the sofa. He helped you put your legs up, then sat near your feet and began massaging them. 
“Lots. For one, Gi-hun calls you ‘the salesman’. Funny, isn’t it? You’re not selling anything, but with your devilishly good looks, I’d buy anything from you.” He chuckled at your comment. 
“He also said that he hired his former loan shark.” You let out a giggle. “His loan shark! The guy that Gi-hun signed his physical rights away to! I couldn’t believe my ears.” You continued, “Anyway, the loan shark and his team will be searching the subway stations for you.” You grimaced. “It’ll interfere with your schedule. They start at 10 a.m. and go until 10 p.m.” 
Your husband let out a heavy sigh and pinched his nose. “So, the entire day.” 
You nodded. “I can find more prospects aboveground. Parks, markets… There must be some in the suburbs too.” 
He seemed lost in thought as he continued rubbing the soles of your feet.
“Another thing… Gi-hun told me to promise I’d call him if I saw you again.” Your husband looked at you and quirked an eyebrow. You took your phone out of your bag on the coffee table. “Since I found you, should I let him know..?” You teased, your phone dangling loosely from your hand. 
“Oh?” Your husband smirked. “If you did,” he moved his hands up your legs to massage your thighs, “What would you say?”
You shuddered when he massaged a particular spot on your thigh. 
“I’d say… ‘Wow, that salesman is incredibly handsome.’” Your husband chuckled. You laughed, “Then, to really rile him up, I might say, ‘Maybe I will play a game with him after all.’” You cocked your head, a mischievous smile on your face. “Or do you think that’d give him a heart attack?”
Your husband laughed. He moved his hands back down to massage your ankles.
The conversation flowed between the two of you for over an hour, when your husband finally tired of massaging your aching body. He escorted you to your bedroom, where you immediately demanded that you resume your cuddling session from earlier that morning.
As you snuggled into him, you sighed. “I’m going to miss this.”
He nodded, one hand drawing circles on your belly. Just then, you both felt the baby kick. Nothing out of the ordinary, but a kick nevertheless.
“Well, maybe I won’t miss that.” 
Your husband’s repetitive circles were making you sleepy. But before you fell asleep, you heard him murmur, “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
As much as you also wanted everything to stay the same, you knew things were about to change. In your career, in your family, in your friendships… The next chapter of your life would soon begin, and boy, were you in for a ride.
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linoxpudding · 2 days ago
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Morning Cuddles - Bang Chan
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*gif is not mine, credit goes to owner*
summary: a little cuddle session with your boyfriend before a hectic day ahead
pairing: bang chan x reader
genre: fluff, established relationship
word count: 370 words
a/n: this was my very first request 🥺 thank you for loving the Lee Know one and requesting this piece, should I make for all of them?
-
morning cuddles series:
Lee Know Han Jisung Lee Felix
Masterlist
~°~
The soft morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. The warmth of the bed, the familiar scent of Chan’s cologne lingering on the sheets, and the steady rhythm of his breathing had you clinging to him even tighter.
“Mmm… don’t go,” you mumbled sensing him trying to get up.
You grabbed him closer and buried your face into his chest. Your arms wrapped around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as if holding on tight enough would make time slow down.
Chan let out a quiet chuckle, his hand smoothing down your back in lazy strokes. “You know I have to, sweetheart.”
“No, you don’t,” you murmured stubbornly, voice still thick with sleep. “Tell them you’re sick. Or that you got kidnapped. I’ll vouch for you.”
His chest vibrated with laughter. “Kidnapped, huh?”
You nodded against him, tightening your grip. “Mhm. Taken hostage by your very clingy and very in-love girlfriend.”
Chan sighed, amused but also incredibly tempted. His schedule was packed today, meetings, recordings, and practice, but the thought of spending just a little more time tangled up in you made his resolve waver.
He shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to tilt your chin up. His eyes, still laced with sleep, softened as he took in your pout.
“I really wish I could stay,” he softly whispered.
You huffed dramatically. “Then stay.”
His thumb brushed over your cheek, a silent apology in his touch. “If I don’t go now, I’ll be late.”
You pursed your lips in thought, then grinned mischievously. “Solution: be late.”
Chan groaned playfully, dropping his head against the pillow. “You’re impossible.”
“But you love me,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
“I do,” he murmured, voice suddenly quieter, more sincere.
He kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and finally, your lips—slow and lingering, like he was trying to pour every ounce of love into it before he had to leave.
When he pulled away, you sighed dramatically. “Fine. Go. But only if you promise to make it up to me later.”
Chan grinned. “Deal.”
And with one last squeeze, one last kiss, he forced himself to untangle from you, already counting down the hours until he could return.
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thehighladywrites · 2 days ago
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you’re just like me
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pairing: cassian x crazy stalker reader
summary: cassian thinks of you as his insanely obsessive ex girlfriend who’s downright crazy. you are obviously cassian’s one true love and will eliminate anything that stands in your way.
warnings: murder, dark romance, cheeky little twist👀, stalking, obsessive behavior, sexual content, knives, nasty sex, um also a sick way of getting off just downright crazy, description of murder… um this is just kinda dark. two psychos encouraging each other
amara’s note: so i might be making this into a series bc i have an amazing idea for azriel next😫😫😫 also guys this was a lil dark lol
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You couldn’t understand how Cassian had the nerve to walk away from you. There was absolutely nothing wrong with you, not one single thing. People just didn’t get it; love was supposed to be all-consuming, right? Obsession wasn’t a flaw. It was just proof you cared deeply. So what if you knew his schedule down to the minute, memorized the exact scent of his shampoo, or followed him everywhere he went like your very existence depended on it? That wasn’t weird, it was love. Real, burning, raw love.
Cassian must have been confused, that’s all. Poor thing, probably led astray by some outside influence. Maybe someone whispered lies into his ear or cast some strange spell over his mind. Yeah, that had to be it, because Cassian did love you. He did. He just needed to wake up and realize it again.
And when he did , he’d thank you for never letting go, for being the one person who truly saw him, who loved him without limits.
Seeing Cassian sitting next to some water-wraith makes your heart pound harder and harder, fury bubbling under your skin. That’s it — that’s why he hasn’t been his usual self. That wretched wraith is manipulating him, filling his head with filthy lies about you. Poisoning what was meant to be perfect.
You have to stop this. You have to save him. And the only way to do that is to get rid of her. Permanently.
Your hands itch for action, and you’re already stepping forward when a hand clamps around your wrist.
“Are you about to go over to Cassian?” Feyre’s calm voice cuts through your haze of rage. “Don’t cause a scene.”
You tilt your head, offering her a polite smile. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m simply going to claim what is rightfully mine.”
You tug at her grip, but it holds firm. Feyre’s eyes narrow. “Not so fast. You know Cassian will think you’re crazy if you kill her right here and now.”
Your breath catches. How the hell did she know? Were you that obvious?
Before you can respond, she steps closer, her intoxicating perfume filling your senses. Her voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine.
“If you want that little whore gone, gut her like a fucking fish. I’ll even help you. But not now, it’ll look bad for us.”
Your eyes widen slightly. Never in a million years would you have expected Feyre to suggest murder.
“Why are you so interested in me killing her?” you ask, voice curious.
A wicked smile curls at her lips before she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “That little bitch tried to fuck Rhys right in front of me. Didn’t even bother pretending she didn’t know who I was. She didn’t care. And now I want her gone.”
Her voice cracks with a manic edge before she smooths it over, composure snapping neatly back into place.
She was just like you, a comfort you took pleasure in, someone who understood that love was meant to be fierce, consuming, and without limits.
You did exactly what Feyre suggested — waited until the big meeting with all the courts had ended, biding your time until the wraith was on her way back to Spring. She was alone, vulnerable, just as you had hoped.
Before she could winnow away, you struck. Kidnapping her had been easy, far too easy. And then came the best part: stabbing her over and over until you were drenched in her warm blood. Her look of terror sent a sick thrill down your spine, flipping your stomach in delight. Fuck, it felt good to finally get rid of her. Like being on edge for an eternity and finally getting the sweet, blissful relief you'd craved.
You cleaned up meticulously, disposing of every shred of evidence. No one would ever find her.
Winnowing back to Velaris, you appeared just outside Cassian’s house, dagger still in hand. Breaking in through your usual route was second nature by now. You settled yourself on his sofa, waiting patiently like you always did when he needed a gentle reminder of who truly belonged to him.
The door creaked open, and Cassian trudged inside, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Normally, you'd feel a pang of sympathy for how hard he worked — how much he gave of himself. But not tonight. Tonight, you were kinda pissed.
His eyes flicked toward you, squinting in the dim light. He hesitated, unsure of who he was looking at until he flipped the lights on.
The color drained from his face as he stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock. “What the hell?” His voice wavered. “What are you doing here?”
You tilted your head, offering a sweet, unwavering smile. “Hi, Cassian. Done being a manwhore? Ready to come back to your senses?”
His gaze darted to the blood soaking your clothes, the gleaming dagger in your hand. He shook his head in disbelief, taking another step back, as if distance could protect him from you.
“I said, what are you doing here?” His voice hardens, sharp and commanding.
Yours matches his, cold and steady. “Well, since you seem to be under some delusion that you can get away from me, I figured I’d burst your little bubble and remind you that’s not the case.”
A calm smile spreads across your lips as you lift the dagger, pointing it directly at him. The weight of it feels right in your hand, steady and sure.
Cassian’s chest rises and falls as tension coils through the room. “You’re insane,” he mutters, disbelief lacing every word.
“Call it what you want. Call it love, call it obsession. Call me fucking insane,” you say, taking a slow step forward. “But you belong to me, Cassian. Always have. Always will.”
You shake your head and laugh, a hollow, unsettling sound. “Gods, Cassian. I don't know why you're doing this to me. Stop being so damn difficult and realize there's no one else for you. That water-wraith slut sure knows it now.”
His face goes pale, a hand pressing against his chest. “W-what are you talking about? You... you killed her?” he asks, horrified.
“Sure did.” You smile sweetly, tilting your head. “And I'll end anyone you think can take my place. Am I clear? Either you realize it now, or I keep killing people. It's all up to you.” You shrug nonchalantly, inspecting your nails as if this conversation were about the weather.
There's a long silence, thick with tension, and then something changes.
His voice drops, lower and rougher. “Took you long enough.”
Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing in confusion. His pale, horrified expression has melted away, replaced by something darker, more primal. His eyes gleam with something unholy, and his mouth twists into a cruel, wicked smile.
“Was wondering when you’d kill that little wraith,” he says smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gods know it was hard feigning interest.”
A warmth spreads through your chest, almost dizzying. Was this a dream? No way. Cassian matching your intensity, your madness — that was only supposed to happen in fantasies.
“What?” you whisper, barely believing what you’re hearing.
He steps closer, eyes gleaming darkly. “Didn’t think I noticed your stalking? Or the way you conveniently disposed of anyone I talked to?” His smirk widens, sharp and dangerous. “The way you just happened to show up at places I had scheduled? I’ve been onto you since day one.”
Your breath catches, heart thundering. “And?”
“And I knew you were the one the day you snuck into my room and stared at me, thinking I didn’t know,” he murmurs, eyes burning into yours with dark satisfaction.
A shiver runs down your spine, both thrilled and unhinged by his words. “You knew?”
He leans in closer, voice low and possessive. “Of course I knew. Your heavy breathing was a dead giveaway, sweetheart. You looked like you were seconds away from crawling into bed with me.”
You grin, eyes gleaming with madness. “I almost did.”
And it was true. He had been shirtless, skin smooth and golden in the moonlight, hair tied back so his sharp, handsome features were perfectly highlighted. Only years of discipline had kept you rooted to the spot instead of crawling into bed with him like you’d wanted to.
His smile deepens, dark and taunting. “You should’ve.” He steps closer, voice dropping to a low, sinful whisper. “Not the Gods themselves could have pulled me away.”
Your pulse races, wild and electric. This was so not fucking happening. “Don’t tempt me.”
“I’m not tempting you, my love.” he says, eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “I’m inviting you.”
He looks down at you, hands settling on your hips as he pulls you so close. Cassian’s heat makes your brain go fuzzy and for a moment you’re lost. Just as he is about to kiss you…
”Wait. So you felt the same I did? Why did you act all high and mighty when you’re literally worse than me?” You step back and raise an eyebrow at him, arms crossed over your chest.
Cassian blinks, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, but instead of guilt or surprise softening his expression, something darker gleams in his eyes — intrigue, even delight. “You’re mad at me, baby?”
“Of course I’m mad!” you snap, practically vibrating with frustration. “You knew I’m bsessed with you, and instead of saying anything, you just sat there, playing with me, making me feel insane.”
Your grip on the dagger tightens in pure frustration. “Do you know how many nights I spent plotting ways to keep you? How much blood I spilled thinking you didn’t care?”
His lips twitch, eyes filled with dark amusement.
“You could’ve just matched my crazy from day one, but nooo, you had to be all stoic and mysterious. Gods, Cassian, that’s infuriating.”
He steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re adorable when you’re pissed off, ya know? A cute, hotheaded little thing.”
“Adorable? I should stab you,” you snarl, but he only grins wider.
“Do it,” he whispers, his voice dripping with challenge. “I’d love to see what happens next.”
Your breath catches, heart racing as his words sink in. Cassian wasn’t just tolerating your madness, he wanted it, thrived on it, matched it beat for beat.
The realization sends a dizzy thrill through you, but you pout anyway, refusing to let him off the hook that easily. “You’re the worst,” you grumble, turning your head away with a dramatic huff.
He chuckles darkly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I was only interesed in seeing how far you’d go. Didn’t know if you’d run for the hills when I told you I murdered Helion’s advicer for looking at you yesterday.”
Your heart skips a beat, then thunders wildly in your chest. A sharp, wicked grin tugs at your lips despite yourself. “You did that?”
“Snapped his neck right before breakfast. Or did I feed him his own fingers then strangle him with his insides? Can’t say I remember.”
A sick thrill courses through you. Man, he was fucking perfect. It was so fucking wrong but your knees went weak and you started throbbing. He killed someone just for staring at you?
That was actually hot.
With no surprise, cassian fucked you for so long, so hard so fucking deep. It was so nasty, a reaaaal mess. one hand of his grabs onto your thigh, another gripping your waist while he’s glancing down at your sloppy cunt, what a masterpiece. Cassian decided he needed to see better so he pulled out as you whimpered pathetically.
his fingers smear his oozing cum all over you, from the slit all the way to your, swollen, throbbing clit.
“look at you makin’ a damn mess.” Your shaky hands gripping his wide shoulders start to slip. His arm tightens around your waist before you fall backwards. “fuckkkk, baby, look at how good your pussy was takin’ me, see how fucking wet she is?” you shudder as his fingers go knuckle deep into your cunt, giving you a few pumps before he pulls it right out, stringy wetness coating them.
he places two thick fingers inside of your mouth, you suck them clean whilst still moving against him, silently pleading for him to fill you out.
“shiiit, not fair. you got these killer hips that’ll dumb down any man.” Cassian finally fills you up again, his fat cock gliding against ypur wall just right. “oh-fuckkkk thaaat’s it, slow baby. slow, fuck me good, yeah?”
Cassian’s breath hitches as you tighten around him, his arm hurling behind the headboard. the desperation of having something to hold on to gives you an ego boost. was your just pussy too damn good?
“c-cas,” you moan, feeling his big fingers stroke their way against your waist to the very undersides of your thighs. you made sure to go slow, slow and steady just like he wanted. cassian’s got a sleazy grin, feeling the wetness of your cunt take him with all its might. “g-gonna cum!”
“i can tell, ah shit— you’re squeezin’ the fuck outta me,” He grunts in response as he feels you writhing, groaning at the gummy texture of your walls mightily gripping around him tight.
But it’s not enough. The rush lingers, addictive and gnawing, and you want more — need more. Something to cling to, something to burn into your memory for the rest of the week. A painfully sweet reminder of just how far you’ll both go for each other.
Your lips curl into a sly smile, voice dropping into a breathy tease. Finally, you’d lock in one last time to see if he was really as crazy as you. “Do you want to know,” You pause, your breath hitching in pleasure, “how it felt to kill t-that wraith?”
Cassian’s entire body tenses, his pupils dilating as a spark of something wild flickers in his eyes. His pulse kicks up, thrumming like a war drum. Fuck yeah, he wanted to know. Every sickening, twisted detail. Morality be damned—this was love.
“Tell me,” he demands, voice low and raw, filled with a dark hunger.
You grin wickedly, savoring his reaction. “It was beautiful,” you whimper, letting the memory flood your senses. “The way her breath hitched when she realized she was going to die? Gods, Cassian, it was intoxicating. She looked so helpless.”
His breath shudders as he pumps harder, his voice gravelly. “What did you feel?”
A dark satisfaction blooms in your chest. “Relief,” you murmur. “Pure relief. Like I’d been waiting forever and I was free.”
Cassian’s eyes burn into yours, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Absolutely perfect. Absolutely mine.”
Your heart races as you lean in, lips hovering near his ear. “Next time,” you purr, “I’ll let you watch then fuck me right there.”
That’s it. Those few sadistic words are all the power he needs to finish you both off.
“you’re a nasty fucking girl—ughhhh.”
his speed had the bed creaking louder, and cassian’s grunting in your ear was getting louder as you were feeling fuller than ever. with hot pounds of skin against skin roughly slapping against each other after each second, the two of you felt the same pangs of pleasure and fervent dizziness. “inside, cas—fuck, cum inside me!” before an inevitable flood of heavenly pleasure consumes you both.
your cunt throbs the second he spills an entire whopping load inside of you raw, and you nuzzle your face into his neck. “cas—,” you stammer, and your walls were oh so greedy, adjusting to the way your pussy convulses around him, sharp nails dragging over his back. you both cum together as a surge of electricity pulses through each of your veins.
“fuck… ya better take every drop, s-shit,” he groans before slumping back against the headboard, tugging you closer so your face rests on his neck.
This was absolutely perfect. Cassian was yours now—forever. He could never leave you. And if he tried? You wouldn’t just kill him; you’d burn the entire world down with him. If you couldn’t have him, no one could. He simply wouldn’t exist without you.
That was love.
And Cassian being utterly, unapologetically insane? A gift wrapped in chaos. He understood you better than anyone ever could. Maybe you’d push him, see just how far that darkness in him stretched. Because Cassian didn’t get jealous—he got even. He got murderous.
“I love you, Cassian. So, so much,” you sob into his neck, your body trembling under the weight of the confession.
“I know you do,” he rasps, his voice rough as he grabs a blanket, wrapping it around your shivering form. His strong arms envelop you completely, his touch obsessive, possessive. His hand trails down your hair and back with agonizing tenderness as though memorizing every inch of you.
But something gnaws at you—a flicker of unease. Why wasn’t he saying it back? Did he need more proof that you were his literal wife(even if he didn’t know it yet), his reason for fucking breathing?
As if sensing your doubt, his grip tightens, pulling you even closer until you could hear the rapid, frantic beat of his heart. His lips brush against your ear, his voice low and raw, trembling with emotion.
“There are no words for what I feel for you,” he says, voice breaking. “Love is too weak, too pitiful. What I feel for you—gods, it devours me whole. It’s a sickness, an obsession that digs its claws into me and never lets go. You are everything. My breath, my blood, my madness.”
His words crash over you, wild and terrifying and utterly beautiful. And you know—he belongs to you as much as you belong to him.
Always.
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dullstyle · 3 days ago
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✧Snapchats Song Mingi Would Send You✧
୨୧ 𝘒𝘪𝘮 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 + 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘚𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 + 𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 + 𝘒𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘠𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 + 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘚𝘢𝘯 + 𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 + 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 + 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘑𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 ୨୧
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୨୧ These posts/ this series was inspired by @hum4n-e4ter !! Please go make sure to check out their posts as well 🤍 ୨୧
୨୧ Taglist : @baby-stay92 ୨୧
Taglist is open! If you would like to be added please just let me know and i'll add you!
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aajjks · 3 days ago
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The Conqueror (XXV)
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synopsis. He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.
pairings: yandere king!jungkook x fem!reader.
warnings: yándèrè, 18+ thèmès, hè is só hôrny fôr yn, néw cháráctèrs, dàrk thèmès, sèxüàl àttràctïón, pósèssïvènèss, dílèmmà.
note. Please share your thoughts on this and I really miss tc koo asks so please send asks for him and really share your thoughts with me always I know it’s weird to repeat myself, but I just have to make sure. Hopefully, I will update this soon and until then enjoy this. 👀💞
series masterlist
•••
It’s the day of the King of China and princess’s arrival and you are not looking forward to it.
It’s been almost a week since you’ve been married to that monster and— you don’t feel bad for rejecting him because you never wanted him in the first place, something has been bothering you for the past three days— his behavior.
His behavior with you for the past few days…
You would be lying if you said that it doesn’t bother you.
You used to think that it would be nice to not have his intense attention on you, you never wanted to be the focus of his attention, but now that you have been, it feels weird to not have him talk to you or acknowledge your existence.
He is a petty man.
The palace has been bustling, everyone has been so focused on the welcome of the king of China with his daughter, it’s like nobody cares about you.
Why would they care about you?
You are just lady yn. The wife of the king that never deserved to have that title in many of the people’s eyes.
As you sit in your chambers, a servant comes into inform you that the carriage has arrived.
“My Lady, the king is expecting your presence at the hall. The carriage of the king of China has been spotted and it’s expected to arrive within a few minutes, so I have been ordered to escort you there so you can be present for the welcome.”
You look at her, and sigh.
“Okay. Thank you for informing me.” without thinking you get up and follow this woman out.
You don’t really have a choice in this matter.
In your life, you have never had a choice.
You are just a puppet that belongs to jungkook, the great emperor of Goryeo, the conqueror, the person who has also conquered you.
And now you are his prize to show off.
•••
Jungkook stands tall, waiting for the arrival of the Chinese royalty, his posture is stiff and formal, as expected.
His mind, however, isn’t entirely focused on the event at hand. It’s on you.
Always on you.
He feels the tension building up inside him. Six days of marriage and not a single moment of closeness, not even a kiss.
It eats away at him, the hunger gnawing at his insides. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to touch you, but you haven’t let him.
Not yet.
And that drives him crazy.
The sound of the door opening almost distracts him from his spiraling thoughts. The moment he sees you, it feels like the room itself shifts.
There you are.
You walk in with that same grace, you have something about you that still has the power to steal his breath away, even after all these days.
He can’t take his eyes off you as you make your way toward him, the fabric of your gown fits perfectly, with each step, the colors rich and deep.
You’re still a lady, not a queen—yet… but Jungkook doesn’t need titles to see that you’re everything he ever wanted.
His eyes trace your every movement, a hunger starts building within him, like a flame that keeps growing, consuming everything else.
The way your hair sways with each step, the way your eyes are avoiding his nervously as you walk closer to him— it all drives him mad with desire.
God, you look so perfect.
He can’t help it. His thoughts are raw and urgent as he watches you.
His breath hitches, and he feels the ache in his chest, a deep longing that he can’t ignore.
The way you look at him, even from across the room, makes his pulse race.
There’s that faint hesitation in your gaze, that uncertainty, as if you’re still unsure of him, unsure of this whole thing, this marriage.
But to Jungkook, that only makes the attraction worse.
You’re so damn beautiful, even when you don’t try.
He notices how others in the room glance at you… admire you— but it’s different for him.
He doesn’t see just your beauty.
he feels the need to possess it, to possess you. His heart pounds harder, and he can’t seem to pull his gaze away.
He knows he has to remain composed. The king of China, and the princess are coming, and he’s supposed to be welcoming her. But right now, he only wants you.
You’re his wife.. he reminds himself, even if the title doesn’t feel real yet, not with the coronation still pending.
But you’re his, and that possessiveness gets worse within him, that feeling of ownership over you that makes him want to claim you completely.
The fire in his chest flares as you finally reach him, and he can’t stop himself from stepping forward, closing the distance between you.
The moment your hand brushes his, his pulse quickens.
He swallows hard, trying to steady himself. His voice comes out a little more strained than usual when he speaks.
“You look incredible,” he says, his eyes still locked on you. His mind races with thoughts, but he doesn’t want to admit the dark, almost primal urge coursing through him.
He needs you, he wants you, and every day it only intensifies.
He remembers the wedding night— the way you rejected him, the way you pushed him away.. and it eats at him.
You’ve been so distant, so closed off, and it’s driving him crazy. He wants you, but you’re not letting him have you, and that makes the desire even more desperate.
You’re mine, and yet you’re slipping away.
It’s the only thought that keeps repeating in his mind. He’s fighting the urge to take you right there, to pull you into his arms and claim you the way he’s been dying to since the day he first saw you.
But it’s not just about the lust. Not entirely.
There’s something deeper in him, something more profound than just physical desire.
The way he looks at you—it’s possessive, yes, but it’s also full of admiration. Full of longing.
The way you carry yourself, the way you hold yourself so regal, even as a lady, makes his chest tighten.
Jungkook takes a breath, his gaze softening slightly as he looks at you. But that hunger never quite leaves his eyes.
I’m going to have you, soon.
He can feel the weight of his desire… his obsession, with you building.
He needs you. And that need, that hunger, makes every part of him ache in ways he doesn’t know how to express.
“I certainly hope that you will behave yn. Do not even try to act cold with me in front of the king. I am not in the mood to be humiliated. Okay, baby?”
He looks at you and he feels entitled to your attention. You belong to him whether you like it or not.
You just have to make it so hard for him to hate you.
But before you can reply, there is an interruption.
Jungkook smirks.
The large doors of the grand hall open with a creak, drawing the attention of every person in the room.
The atmosphere shifts instantly, becoming more charged, more expectant.
The air is thick with anticipation as the king of China, regal and imposing in his own right, steps through first. His eyes are sharp, his presence commanding, but there is something about him that makes jungkook feel so satisfied.
He’s an old man.
And then, there is the princess.
She steps in next, Her long black hair, her high cheekbones and her gaze is sharp, taking everything in as she enters.
But it’s him, Jungkook… who catches her focus.
The moment her eyes land on him, her breath catches in her throat. The prince stands just a few feet away, but he might as well be the center of the entire universe.
His posture is perfect, shoulders broad, the sharp lines of his jawline and the defined muscles in his arms and chest accentuated by the royal attire that clings to him in all the right ways.
Her gaze lingers on him as she takes a step forward, utterly captivated. She can feel her heart race, a heat stirring inside her.
She isn’t quite sure what it is, but the way he stands there, the confidence radiating off of him, makes her feel a strange mix of awe and… attraction. She tries to shake the feeling, but it’s there, undeniable.
The king of Goryeo, is gorgeous and he is nothing like how she was expecting him to be.
She has obviously heard about him and she has heard how bloodthirsty he is and quite merciless on the fields of battle.
But she wasn’t expecting to see a man so attractive, standing in front of her eyes, looking so regal.
She had thought that he must be at least in his 50s. But this couple in front of her. He doesn’t look to be that much older than her.
She knows that she’s here to congratulate him on his marriage to you.
It’s obvious because you’re standing by his side.
Even though you are standing by his side, she doesn’t care.
His pure raw masculinity has her mesmerized to even notice you.
Her thoughts blur, and she doesn’t know whether to be mesmerized by his raw masculinity or embarrassed by how obvious her attraction is becoming.
The way his muscles flex beneath his royal garb, the way his hair falls just perfectly over his forehead… it’s like something out of a dream.
She quickly looks away, hoping no one notices the sudden heat creeping into her cheeks, but the effect he has on her is impossible to ignore.
The king, noticing his daughter’s lingering gaze, smirks to himself. He might be pleased by her admiration,there’s a slight sense of amusement in his eyes.
This is perfect.
Meanwhile, Jungkook, whose eyes flicker across the room, finally meets the princess’s gaze.
He notes the way she is practically undressing him with her eyes, the way her breath hitches. He feels the pull of her stare, but he doesn’t return it.
His focus remains on the king.. on the official duties at hand.
The princess might be beautiful, but he doesn’t care. He’s seen this sort of admiration before, and it bores him.
She’s just a little girl.
He watches her out of the corner of his eye as she shifts slightly, adjusting herself. It’s clear she’s trying to compose herself, but her flushed face betrays her.
Jungkook smirks.
He knows that he’s attractive, but she doesn’t have to make it that obvious.
He wishes the way she’s looking at him? You would look at him like that..
But he doesn’t care about her. His mind, his attention, is focused entirely on you.
When the princess finally speaks, her voice is clear and polite, but there’s an edge of uncertainty in it. “Your Highness,” she greets, bowing her head. “It is an honor to meet you.”
Jungkook simply nods, acknowledging her words, but his gaze never leaves you as you step forward.
He turns to the princess and the king with a soft, almost arrogant smile on his lips. “This is my wife,” he announces proudly, and her eyes are finally settle on you.
She’s Judging you.
He gestures to you, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm, feeling that brief contact like a spark. “My Lady,” he says to you, his voice warm yet firm, his eyes holding that possessive gleam that only you understand.
His pride swells, and though the princess might be in front of him, he’s not paying her a second thought.
You are his pride.
“This is my wife, the Lady Yn of Goryeo,” Jungkook says again, making sure his words are heard clearly.
His chest swells as he watches the princess’s expression change ever so slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing her face as she realizes who you are.
Jungkook feels a rush of satisfaction, something almost primal, knowing that the princess now sees the bond between you both. She can admire him all she wants, but you are the one he claims.
The princess’s attention is still divided. partly on Jungkook, partly on you.
She’s intrigued, perhaps even fascinated by the lady standing next to him, by the quiet authority that you carry with you.
But Jungkook, in his quiet pride, doesn’t care about the princess’s shifting gaze.
His eyes are only for you. He watches you carefully, knowing exactly how the princess is reacting to him, but he’s too focused on you to care.
In that moment, it’s clear: he is proud of you. Proud of the wife he has. And the princess doesn’t even matter.
“Come inside. I am really honored to have you and your daughter as my guest. And I will really like it if you guys will honor us even more by staying here for a few days.”
He turns his attention back to the king as he invites him to stay in Goryeo for a few days.
Jungkook has some ulterior motives and in order to make sure that he gets what he wants, he will need to play sweet.
“We would be really honored, as we are here to congratulate you on your marriage and I sincerely apologize that my wife couldn’t accompany me on this journey since she’s really sick. But I have brought my daughter with me. Please meet Meilin..”
Jungkook leads Princess Meilin and her father, the King of China, through the grand hallways of the Goryeo palace.
The air thickens with each step, and the atmosphere is heavy with expectation, but Jungkook remains calm and collected.
His eyes flicker briefly between Meilin, who is still caught in her silent admiration of him, and the king, whose regal presence matches his long years of rule.
But too bad he’s old now and Jungkook isn’t really in the mood to go to war since he’s just gotten married to you.
As they walk, Jungkook feels a sense of satisfaction settle over him. The king may have come to Goryeo expecting nothing more than a courteous meeting, but Jungkook has bigger plans.
His thoughts are consumed by his ultimate goal—conquering China.
He isn’t about to rush things, but this visit is the perfect opportunity to move forward with his agenda.
They arrive in the grand dining hall, the flickering light of the candles casting a warm glow over the space.
Jungkook turns to the king and his daughter with a welcoming smile.
“It would be my honor to have you both stay here for a few days, in the Goryeo palace,” Jungkook repeats himself, his words are measured.
“This is the least I can offer after such a long journey.”
The king, caught off guard at first, meets Jungkook’s gaze and nods slowly, his expression softening. “We would be honored to stay, Your Highness,” he responds, clearly impressed by the Goryeo king’s hospitality.
They don’t even know how to properly address him and it’s pissing him off.
Jungkook shifts his attention to Meilin.
She can’t hide her attraction and it’s almost making him uncomfortable.
She’s still watching him, her gaze full of intrigue, but she quickly averts her eyes, maybe realizing how obvious her admiration has become.
Jungkook notices but doesn’t acknowledge it.
“I hope your stay will be pleasant,” Jungkook says, addressing her now, his voice low and inviting. “And I sincerely hope that your wife, the queen will be healthy soon..”
“We have prepared rooms for both of you. I trust Goryeo will offer a much-needed rest after your travels.”
Meilin nods, offering a polite smile, but her thoughts are clearly elsewhere.
She can’t help but notice how close she is to Jungkook now.
His presence is overwhelming, and she feels the effect it has on her intensifying by the moment.
As the king and his daughter are escorted to their rooms, Jungkook feels a rush of satisfaction.
This is only the beginning. He’s patient, playing the long game.
China is the prize.
But as they move through the palace, his gaze drifts to you—Yn of Goryeo. You walk beside him, and Jungkook feels a sense of pride surge within him.
His mind may be focused on his grand plan, but you are always in his thoughts, always by his side.
Though the princess and her father are staying for only a few days, Jungkook’s attention is elsewhere.
He isn’t concerned with them, not really. His mind is set on his greater goal, and China is only a matter of time.
The palace is his domain. And this is only the start of the game.
“Good girl. I am so proud of you for behaving. As I expect you will be in my chambers tonight since I don’t want the king to think that you and I stay in separate chambers.”
He looks at you in a way that makes sure that his message is sent across.
This is not up for debate. You will have to stay in his chambers as long as the princess and the king of China stay here.
And jungkook intends to take advantage of that fact fully.
Starting from tonight.
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themultifanshipper · 14 hours ago
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nobody gets me when i say daniel x oscar x reader but i need it desperately
“What's an Aussie kiss?” 
Or, the story of how Mark Webber’s existence led to a series of very fortunate events. 
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Warnings: smut, threesome, mention of alcohol, oral, brief anal play, the sloppiest two person blowjobs, just pure filth, anti FIA propaganda lmao, also bad dirty talk? 
Being Daniel's ex-teammate, and current best friend, you knew a lot of Aussie slang. 
And you'd learned even more upon becoming Oscar's teammate. 
You were in a club, and for some godforsaken reason, you were squashed in between Mark and Oscar, with Daniel on the other side of the table in the small booth. 
And then you'd met Oscar's manager Mark, and, well… whenever the three of them found themselves together, your head would start pounding within minutes of them starting a conversation. 
“F1 has gone soft!” Mark slurred, already halfway into a coma. “And it wasn't even that long ago that we could swear freely and make dirty jokes without FIA cunts breathing down our necks!” 
His drink sloshed around his glass as he spoke, and you managed to dodge the spills despite being in the splash zone. 
Daniel laughed and added “Yeah, you couldn't talk about Aussie kisses nowadays without being fined!” 
The three of them laughed freely, taking sips of their drinks. 
Everyone had seen the famous clip of Mark. 
Unfortunately, you had not. And that delightful little nugget had never come up in conversation before. 
So you turned to Mark, and drunkenly asked “What's an Aussie kiss?”, much to the delight of your two fellow drivers. 
“You'll find out when you're older, kid” he smirked and you scoffed. 
When he tried to get up to order more drinks, he swayed so badly that Daniel had to catch him to avoid him falling onto the table. 
“Okay old man” he chuckled “let's get you an uber while you're still conscious” 
He led Mark through the crowd towards the exit, leaving you and Oscar to laugh at their retreating figures. 
“He's such a lightweight” Oscar giggled. 
"You're one to talk!” you slapped him on the shoulder “Your cheeks are redder than a fucking Ferrari” 
“Oh yeah?” he smiled at you, “At least I know what an Aussie kiss is” he bit his lip teasingly. 
The way he said it made a shiver run down your spine. Despite not knowing what it meant, you felt the urge to ask him to show you. 
You were suddenly very aware of how close you were, and the heat of his thigh against yours made your stomach clench. 
You cleared your throat, breaking the awkward tension and took a shy sip of your drink. 
“Don't suppose you’re going to tell me, are you?” 
He chuckled and bumped his knee against yours under the table. 
“Like the old man said, you'll find out when you're older” he teased. 
Even though there was only a year between you two, you always felt like he was the mature one of the team. The older and wiser teammate. 
You found that quite attractive, if you were fully honest. And with the amount of alcohol in you system, you definitely wouldn't hesitate to say so if asked the question. 
“Fine, I'll just ask Daniel, I'm sure he would be happy to show me” 
Oscar rolled his eyes dismissively, absolutely hating the idea of you going to someone else, just as Daniel stepped back into the booth and sat down where Mark had been a few minutes before. 
His thigh was now firmly pressed against you, and you suddenly felt very overwhelmed by their presence. 
“Dannyyy” you whined “Oscar won't tell me what an Aussie kiss is!” 
Daniel just laughed. 
“That's because he probably doesn't have much experience in that domain. I on the other hand-“ 
“Uh, actually I have more than you think!” Oscar interrupted and Daniel grinned at him. 
“Sure you do Piastri, but I’ve had at least a decade of practice more than you so-“ 
Oscar scoffed and gave him the finger. 
“Guys!” You slapped the table to grab their attention. “Just tell me and I’ll be the judge!” 
Oscar hesitated. He was slipping into dangerous territory right now. 
He was very attracted to you, and would love nothing better than to spend the night showing you his uhh… kissing abilities. 
But you were all far too drunk to make any rational decision making, and Daniel's presence was making him uneasy. 
Not to mention you were his teammate and friend. 
Daniel was thinking along the same lines. You were his drunk best friend, and the last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of you. 
“I'll tell you what” he piped up. “If you ask again when you're sober, we'll show you” 
They nodded at each other. They both wanted you, but they needed you to be clear headed. 
There was absolutely no chance you would remember this tomorrow, so this was their safest bet. 
You warily agreed, and the subject was quickly changed. 
What they didn't know, is that that night, before you went to bed completely hammered, you set a reminder on your phone. 
“lok up Ausie Kiiis on gogle” 
Well, at least it was readable to you the next day. 
And you did look it up. And found the video of Mark, which made you laugh. 
But as the night before came flooding back in your mind, you remembered Daniel's offer. 
They wanted you. They wanted to do that to you.  
Butterflies erupted in your stomach as the thought of the two of them between your legs made you gasp. Yep, it had to happen. 
Daniel and Oscar really thought they were out of the woods when they didn't hear from you all day. But then, in the evening came a text from a group chat you'd created with the two of them. 
There was a screenshot of the urban dictionary result, and few simple words that made both men twitch in their pants. 
“Instructions unclear, demonstration necessary. Room 312” 
Oscar being only a few rooms away in the same hotel meant that he got there within two minutes of his phone buzzing. 
As soon as you opened the door your were lifted by your thighs and carried over to your bed. 
He crawled over you, not giving you so much as a hello before he captured your lips in a bruising kiss. 
He was going to make the most of Daniel’s delay. 
You couldn’t help but gasp into it when you felt his hands wandering over your body teasingly, making quick work of your outer layers. 
“Jesus Osc” you panted as his lips travelled downwards, sucking and nipping at the skin of your neck. “If you were this desperate to touch me you could have just asked” 
He grunted into your skin, continuing his descent and leaving soft kisses over your barely covered breasts. 
“Didn't know you'd be into it too.” He mumbled “I didn't want to make anything awkward” 
Any response you had quickly died on your tongue when you felt a fingers brush against your clothed cunt. 
“Soaked through your panties already?” he chuckled darkly, rubbing against you with more pressure.  
You blushed, hips bucking against his hand. 
“Please, Oscar” you whimpered into your hands that were covering your face. 
“Please what?” he teased, sliding a finger under the fabric and ghosting it over your sensitive skin. 
“Fuck me, please” you whined. 
He laughed softly. “But darling, that's not why you invited me here, is it? And in any case I think we should wait for Daniel, don't you?” 
You huffed impatiently. 
“If you're that wound up, why don't you come here and let me use that pretty mouth of yours, hmm? It'll give you something to do while we wait…” 
Daniel almost broke his neck by tripping in the stairs while running as fast as he could to get to you. 
When he wrenched the door to your room open he scoffed at the sight of you on your knees at the foot of the bed. 
“Couldn't even wait for me, could you. Bastards…” 
He ripped his shirt off and made his way over to the bed. 
“I had to shut her up somehow, she's so fucking needy” Oscar pulled you off his cock and helped you to your feet. 
Daniel cooed and leaned down to kiss you, and expertly unclasped your bra while Oscar dragged your underwear down your legs. 
The kiss with Daniel quickly turned filthy, and he walked you slowly towards the bed and pushed you down on it. 
“So who gets first dibs?” Oscar asked, eyeing your body and smirking at the goosebumps appearing on your flesh as you gazed up at the two men. 
“How about Oscar first, since he was gentlemanly enough to wait till you got here?” you offered and they shrugged in agreement. 
“Works for me, that way I'll get to prove I'm better afterwards” 
You and Oscar both rolled your eyes at Daniel's statement, and the younger man quickly spread your legs and kneeled in between them. 
You were dripping already, and at the first swipe of his tongue through your folds, Oscar thought he'd died and gone to heaven.  
He groaned, lapping up your juices, and then alternated between fucking you with his tongue and circling it around your sensitive clit. 
You were moaning freely, gasping at every change of pace and pressure.  
There was definitely no denying it, he knew what he was doing. 
When he sucked on your clit your back arched, letting out whiny little moans as he made your legs tremble in no time, your thighs trying to close around his head. 
Daniel, despite not touching you, was having the time of his life. 
He was sitting next to you on the bed, and from this angle he could see every tremor, every micro-expression as you writhed under Oscar's undeniably skilled mouth. 
You were exquisite in his opinion, and he hungrily watched your breasts heaving as you tried to catch your breath after Oscar made you come all over his face. 
The younger man licked his lips hungrily as he stared up at Daniel, eyes challenging him to do better. 
You barely got any reprieve before Daniel was pushing Oscar out of the way and bending your legs at the knees. 
“Hold yourself open for me, darling” 
You did as you were told, and looked down at him while he nosed along the crease of your inner thigh. 
He pushed his tongue inside you, and you let out a gasp when his nose brushed against your clit as he moved. 
The tip of his nose was quite cold, and the difference in temperature was surprisingly pleasurable. 
But Daniel didn't plan on staying there for long, he'd come to win, even if that meant playing dirty. 
He gave your clit a teasing suck before releasing it with a pop, and slowly, his tongue made its way lower, exploring your taint, and eventually making contact with your tight rim. 
The new feeling made you shudder, and he brought a hand up to thumb at your clit in a steady rhythm while he worked his tongue against your ass. 
Your nails were digging into your own thighs where you were holding them open, and a quick glance at Oscar's expression told you he was not happy, despite being obviously turned on. 
Once Daniel could feel you loosening, he prodded his tongue inside you a little, and the sensation was so foreign to you it forced a shaky moan from your throat. 
You felt Daniels smirk against your skin and he quickly retracted his tongue, and slowly made his way back up. 
You were rapidly approaching the edge now. And the renewed attack of his mouth on your cunt was promising a spectacular finish. 
Then you felt a slight pressure lower down. 
He was rubbing his thumb against your asshole, aided by your dripping juices. 
He applied some pressure, and his thumb easily slipped inside, carefully massaging your walls while his tongue lapped at your clit hungrily. 
It took you seconds. 
You came with a loud cry as you arched your back, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm, through which Daniel helped you gently by slowing down his movements until you were shaking under him. 
He sat up and grinned at you from above. 
“So? Who was better?” 
“That's not fair, you cheated!” Oscar huffed indignantly. 
“I did not! It isn't specified how low we're allowed to go”  
“But you used your fingers! I didn't”  
“Well yeah, you gotta make use of all your assets” he wiggled his brows. 
They looked at you expectantly. 
“If one of you isn't inside me in the next 30 seconds I am kicking you both out” you muttered at the ceiling. 
They chuckled and shuffled around the bed. 
You ended up on top of Oscar, sinking down on his surprisingly thick cock while Daniel sat next to Oscar's head. 
You leaned down to take him into your mouth and he grabbed your hair in his fist in a makeshift ponytail. 
“So eager to please, isn't she Oscar? I think we’ve struck gold with this one” 
Oscar started thrusting into you slowly, and your deep groan around the cock in your mouth made Daniel mad with need as he watched you take him down eagerly. 
He then noticed Oscar was eyeing his cock with something akin to hunger in his eyes. 
“You look jealous, Oscar” he teased. “Fancy a taste?” 
He pulled you off him, and Oscar licked at his tip teasingly. 
You didn't feel like stopping though, so soon Daniel had two mouths on his cock, licking and sucking at his shaft. 
“Jesus Christ, you two are so fucking hot, what the fuck” 
You and Oscar worked in tandem, lips making brief contact as you made out with the cock between you. 
It was truly a porn worthy performance and Daniel could feel his composure slipping. 
“Fuck- stop, I'm gonna come too soon” 
He pulled you off and shuffled backwards, taking a quick breather, and Oscar laughed meanly. 
“The old man's gonna come first, that's funny” 
He was obviously just goading Daniel, but the evil glint that suddenly appeared in the older man's eyes as he got an idea made his stomach churn. 
“Wanna swap then?” he grinned, and Oscar nodded eagerly. 
Daniel lay down so you could climb on top of him, rolling your hips slowly to get used to the slightly lengthier cock, and Oscar kneeled next to him, mirroring the position from before. 
You took him down to the base first, the taste of your own slick making your eyes roll back in your head, and Oscar couldn't resist thrusting into your mouth a few times. 
“Fuckin’ hell, why were we arguing over who's better when her mouth is clearly superior”  
He gasped when you swallowed around him and used your tongue to trace the underside of his cock. 
Then you let him go with a pop, and looked at Daniel with a smirk. 
The two of you got to work, worshipping Oscar's cock with your mouths and he marveled at the sight. 
But then Daniel decided he needed to prove his superiority. 
He licked down the vein on the underside, slowly inching towards Oscar's balls. 
He licked over them, and took one into his mouth, gently sucking on it just to make Oscar lose his mind. 
“Jesus, Daniel… fuck-“ 
With Daniel working wonders down there, and you making your way up his body, currently scraping your teeth over one of his nipples, he was scared of coming before he'd even had a chance to savour the experience. 
Daniel huffed under him, drawing his attention.  
Apparently his tongue could just about reach behind Oscar's balls, but the position didn't allow him to go any further. 
“Sit on my face”  Daniel panted. 
“What?” Oscar squeaked, sure he'd misheard. 
“You heard me, come here”  he slapped Oscar's thigh to get him to move. 
Oscar didn't hesitate for long, he swung a leg over Daniel's head and hovered, facing you as he bit his lip to hide just how aroused he was at the idea. 
Daniel wrapped his arms around Oscar's thighs and slammed him down onto his eagerly waiting mouth. 
Oscar let out a high pitched moan and had to stabilise himself with a hand on Daniel's chest. 
You grabbed his hair and pulled him in for a rough kiss. 
Daniel somehow had the dexterity to pound into you from below while eating Oscar out like his life depended on it, and all the two of you could do was pant into each other's mouths as Oscar came untouched all over Daniel's chest and his own hand. 
He crawled away, and Daniel grabbed your waist to pull you down onto his cock while he rolled his hips up into you. 
“You close, beautiful? You gonna come all over my cock?” 
You nodded desperately, the new angle and speed was making you cry out in pleasure as it built up rapidly inside you. 
“Do it then, show Oscar what a good girl you are and come right now, baby” 
How you managed to stay upright will always be a mystery. The force with which your orgasm washed over you was enough to make your voice crack and your vision go momentarily dark while you rode out the most intense pleasure you'd ever felt before. 
While you waited for the feeling in your legs to come back, Oscar went to grab a washcloth to clean you all up. 
You were lying on the bed, limbs akimbo while Daniel’s cum dribbled out of you. 
“Remind me to thank Mark Webber” you said and the other two guffawed in disbelief. 
“You want to thank him? What about us, we actually fucked you!” 
You laughed. “You're right! Maybe I should ask Mark to fuck me!” 
The other two groaned. 
“Never say that again” 
You all got into bed, you in the middle, facing Oscar while Daniel spooned you from behind. 
“Well at least now I know” Daniel muttered. 
“Know what?” you asked. 
“That Piastri likes getting his ass ate” he chuckled and you burst out in a fit of giggles. 
“Fuck you” Oscar groaned. 
“In your dreams Piastri” Daniel chuckled. 
“Next time, I'm fucking you” 
“Ha!” Daniel laughed “As if !” 
But you saw the defiant look in Oscar’s eyes. 
You knew him in and out, he was not going to back down from a challenge. 
226 notes · View notes
satellite-evans · 3 days ago
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right where you left me
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Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex girlfriend!reader
Summary: You're still where Max left you.
Word count: 2.8k+
Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song
A/N:
Hi everyone, this is the first fic that I’m posting for the folkmore series, I am so excited!!! Can’t wait to hear what you guys think <3
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The restaurant still smells the same. The warm scent of buttered bread, the faint tang of expensive wine in the air, the subtle undertone of aged wood and candle wax melting into soft pools of gold. It’s been months—years, maybe—since the night Max walked out, yet the place feels untouched, frozen in time. Just like you.
You sit at the same table, your fingers brushing against the linen napkin, tracing invisible patterns on the surface. The same table where his laughter once curled in the air, where his hands would have reached for yours without thinking. Your glass of water remains half-full, just as it was that night. Untouched. Forgotten. A relic of a moment that still lingers in the corners of your mind like an echo you can’t quite silence.
The candlelight flickers, its glow catching the delicate ring you still wear on your right hand—the one he gave you as a promise before he decided promises were too heavy to keep. You twist it absentmindedly, the metal cool against your skin, a contrast to the warmth of memory.
Outside, the city hums with life. Cars glide past, their headlights flashing like distant stars. The murmur of strangers, the clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter—all of it moves forward, untethered to the past. But here, at this table, in this restaurant where time seems to hold its breath, you sit in the hollow space he left behind.
And for the first time in a long while, you wonder if he ever comes here, too. If he ever stops just outside the door, hand hesitating on the handle, breathing in the familiar scent and remembering. Or if, like the promises he made, he’s let it all go.
“Are you ready to order?”
The waiter’s voice pulls you from your trance, gently but firmly, like a hand on your shoulder bringing you back to the present. You blink, your gaze shifting from the flickering candlelight to the young man standing beside your table, his notepad poised, his expression polite but unreadable.
You only shake your head, offering a tight smile. “Not yet,” you murmur, though you already know the answer.
He doesn’t question it. He never does. Maybe by now, he recognizes you—not just as another customer, but as a fixture of this place. The girl who always sits alone. The girl who never changes her order. The girl who lingers too long over a half-full glass of water, as if she’s waiting for it to fill itself. The girl who still waits for someone who isn’t coming back.
Does he wonder? Does he piece together the story in his mind, constructing quiet theories about why you return to the same spot, why your fingers still play absentmindedly with a ring that should’ve lost its meaning by now? Is he used to people like you—the ones who haunt old memories like ghosts who refuse to be laid to rest?
Or does he just think that you’re a girl frozen in time, that time went on for everyone else but that you wouldn’t know?
A girl that just can’t move on.
He nods, stepping away without another word, leaving you alone once more. Alone with the past. Alone with the quiet hum of the restaurant around you, the soft clatter of silverware, the muted conversations that blur together into white noise.
You exhale, glancing toward the empty chair across from you. It remains untouched, just as it was that night. Just as it has been every night since.
You wonder if Max ever thinks about this place. If he ever remembers the way your fingers used to trace lazy patterns over his knuckles while he rambled about race strategy, his voice animated, his eyes alight with passion. If he recalls how you’d bite your lip to keep from laughing when he confidently—yet disastrously—mispronounced the names of the wines on the menu, only to scowl at you in mock offense when you corrected him. If he ever sits in a quiet moment, caught off guard by a passing scent or a familiar song playing in the background, and suddenly, inexplicably, thinks of you.
If he feels even the slightest pang of nostalgia when he hears your name.
If he even knows that you come to this restaurant, even though you felt the most heart crushing pain here.
That he left you no choice but to stay here forever.
Or if he’s forgotten all of it. All of you.
You hadn’t meant to check, but old habits die hard. One second, your mind was wandering, and the next, your fingers were already scrolling, moving with a muscle memory you wished you didn’t have. Before your brain could stop them. Before your heart could brace itself.
And suddenly, there it was, a picture trending on Twitter.
Max Verstappen & Kelly Piquet expecting their first child together!
The words seem to blur for a moment, your vision tunneling, breath catching somewhere in your throat. And then, below the headline, a photo.
You wanted to say that it was irony or even faith that you found out that he was expecting a baby with another woman in the same restaurant where he would whispered sweet words about how he wanted to be father to your children so badly, but you don’t believe in faith anymore. This restaurant was just destined to haunt you forever.
At least he looks happy.
Happier than you remember. Happier than he ever was with you.
Your grip tightens on your phone, but your body remains still, frozen in place. The sounds of the restaurant fade into static, the clinking glasses and quiet laughter around you suddenly feeling like background noise to a scene you no longer belong in.
You exhale slowly, pressing your lips together as you force yourself to look away from the screen, as if that might erase the image from your mind. As if that might make it hurt less.
But it doesn’t.
The ring on your finger feels heavier. It presses into your skin like an anchor, pulling you back to a past you can’t escape, a past you’re still tethered to. You blink rapidly at the screen, hoping, praying, that the words will change. That maybe this is some cruel joke, some mistake, but they don’t. The image doesn’t blur. It’s real. It’s him.
Another picture.
Christmas. They’re spending it together.
A perfect family. The kind you used to imagine when you’d sit together, planning for the future, talking about how one day, maybe, you’d have a house full of children and laughter.
The cruelest part is how ordinary it all looks. A picture-perfect moment, the kind you once dreamed of having with him, now shared with someone else. A life you are no longer a part of.
It’s funny, really. How time moves forward for everyone but you. How the world shifts, the seasons change, new memories replace the old ones. Love finds new homes. But you? You’re still here, frozen in place, gathering dust like an abandoned photograph tucked away in a forgotten drawer, one that’s too painful to even look at anymore.
You can’t help yourself but eread the headline over and over again and look at the pictures of them spending Christmas together, as if the repetition might somehow make it easier to swallow. Your heart clenches, a familiar ache spreading through your chest. The kind of ache that never really goes away. The kind of ache that lingers, festers, and refuses to fade no matter how much time passes.
You want to scream, to throw your phone across the room, to erase the image, the words, the entire situation from existence. But you don’t. You sit still, paralyzed, watching the truth unfold in front of you, as if you’re witnessing something that’s no longer your story but someone else’s.
And maybe it is. Maybe it always was.
You think about the night he told you. The memory lingers, every detail sharp as if it just happened yesterday. The dim candlelight flickered between you, casting warm, uneven shadows on the table, making his eyes look darker than usual. Your hair was pinned up, just the way he liked it, because all you wanted was to be enough for him, to be loved and cherished by him just the way you loved him. You remember the way he fidgeted with the water glass in his hands, the way his fingers trembled slightly, betraying the calmness his voice tried to convey. He didn’t even drink from it, just held it there like it was something to anchor him. And you? You could feel it before he even spoke. The knot in your stomach, tight and twisting, the way your heart seemed to freeze in place, like it already knew what was coming before your brain would allow it to acknowledge the truth.
"I met someone."
The words barely make sense. They hang in the air between you, impossible to grasp. For a moment, it feels like the world tilts on its axis, like reality itself has cracked and this is some sort of cruel dream you’ll wake up from.
You almost laugh, bitter and disbelieving, because it doesn’t sound real. It doesn’t sound like Max. Not the Max who once whispered forever into your hair, promising you a future where nothing could tear you apart. Not the Max who swore he couldn’t imagine a life without you, who said your names together like they belonged in the same sentence, forever linked. But the words still come, and somehow, despite everything, they are his.
The restaurant around you starts to fade away, the sounds dulling to a distant hum, muffled like you’re underwater, as if the world is pulling away from you, inch by inch. Your heart races, but your body feels oddly disconnected from it all, like you're watching someone else’s life unfold before you, helpless to stop it. You take a shallow breath, but it doesn’t reach the depths of your chest, and the weight of the moment settles in there like a stone you can’t dislodge.
"What?" Your voice barely makes it past your lips, a fragile whisper, so quiet that for a second you think he won’t even hear you. But he does.
His gaze drops to the table, his eyes avoiding yours, as if he can’t bear to see you crumble, as if he’s already sorry for what he knows he’s about to do. His voice is quieter now, almost too soft to catch. "I didn’t mean for it to happen."
You shake your head, disbelief clouding your thoughts. Your hands curl into fists in your lap, nails digging painfully into your palms, trying to hold on to something, anything. The ring on your finger suddenly feels like it’s choking the life out of you. "But it did."
The words escape from your throat like shards of glass, sharp and cold, biting as they land between you. He swallows hard, and you wonder if he’s doing it to hold back tears, or if it’s just the weight of what he’s about to say.
“She has a daughter,” he adds, his voice thick, but the words hit you like a slap, sharp and unforgiving. You feel your mascara run as your eyes sting with the hot, unfamiliar ache of betrayal. But you don’t wipe the tears away. You don’t move. You just sit there, paralyzed, staring at him, waiting for him to say something—anything—that could take it all back. That could prove this isn’t real. That could remind you of the love you thought was enough.
“She’s not mine,” he continues, his voice wavering, like he’s trying to make it sound better, like he’s trying to convince you this is somehow okay. “But I love her like she is.”
The words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. A sudden, cold numbness spreads across your chest, a pain that feels both sharp and hollow. The space between you and him stretches, filling with the things he can’t say.
“And her mother?” You force the words out, each one heavier than the last.
His silence is loud enough to drown out everything else—the clinking of silverware, the murmur of conversations from nearby tables, the soft jazz music playing in the background. Everything around you fades into the background until all that’s left is him and you, caught in the unbearable weight of what he won’t say.
When he finally speaks again, his voice barely rises above a whisper, like he’s afraid of the truth. “I love her too.”
And just like that, it’s over. The last thread of hope you had been clinging to snaps, leaving you floating in a place where nothing makes sense anymore. The ring on your finger burns, searing into your skin, but you don’t take it off. Not yet. You can’t. Because somehow, it’s the only thing left of him, of the person you thought you knew, of the future that is no longer yours.
You know where he is now. He’s winning. He’s thriving. The world sees him on podiums, champagne in hand, his new life already unfolding in the bright lights. He’s standing beside someone else now, someone who doesn’t carry the weight of the past, someone who fills the space you left behind with ease. The world loves him, adores him. And you? You’re still at the restaurant, in the ruins of what he left behind, trapped in a love story that never got its happy ending, a story that no longer belongs to you.
You press your phone to your chest, as if it could somehow stop the ache from spreading. As if holding onto the past will make the present hurt less. But it doesn’t. The weight of the truth is suffocating, a heavy fog that settles over your heart, and you realize, with painful clarity, that you were never meant to be a part of his forever. You were never meant to last.
The whispers around you grow louder, piercing through the fog of your thoughts, and it doesn’t take much to understand why. You hear his name before you see him, and when you finally do, it feels like the ground beneath you tilts ever so slightly.
Max.
He looks different—sharper, somehow. More defined, more polished by the world that shaped him after you. His eyes sweep over the restaurant, and you wonder if they’ll stop on you, if he’ll look at you and see something from the past, something worth acknowledging. But no.
He’s here’s. At the restaurant. With her.
He really brought her here.
Kelly is beside him, her laughter effortless, untouched by the weight of history, the burden of old wounds. She leans into him, her hand resting gently on her stomach, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at him with the kind of love you used to think was meant for you. She doesn’t know what it’s like to sit in this seat, to watch someone walk away, to feel the years stretch endlessly before you as you wonder if they ever think about you.
Max’s gaze flicks across the room, and for just a split second, it lands on you. It’s so brief that you almost convince yourself it didn’t happen. But it did. His steps falter for a fraction of a second, his fingers tightening around Kelly’s hand before he looks away, as if something inside him is trying to hold onto a memory that’s already slipping through his fingers.
And that’s it. No smile. No apology. No acknowledgment. Just a glance, a flash of something unspoken, and then—nothing.
You knew that he didn’t care about you but, facing with that reality hurt you more than you thought. Here you were, coming to the same place a man hurt you because you loved him so much, only for the same man to come too because he didn’t love you at all.
What a shame.
Maybe it is true. Maybe you really are unawarely frozen in time. Maybe that would explain why you still feel the same pain now as on the day he left you.
You swallow hard, blinking away the burning in your eyes. The candle on the table flickers, casting long shadows that seem to stretch endlessly across the walls. The world outside moves forward, time marching on relentlessly, but you remain frozen in place, clutching onto the past like it’s the only thing that hasn’t slipped away.
The moment passes, and Max moves on, just like he always does.
But you? You’re still right where he left you.
233 notes · View notes
smartkookiee · 2 days ago
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Wounds We Never Show // Ch.7 — jjk.
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Oh the tension is sooooo thick in this one. classic Jk and Y/N banter. A SMALL LITTLE THING OF SMUT RIGHT AT THE BEGINNING. bothering yoongi (classic), lots of medical stuff in this one, nothing graffic, talking about cancer and diagnosis, mentions of surgery, neuro bros make an appearance (ew), bowling, jk is good at bowling, y/n is also good a bowling, competition ensues, more ji-eun with life advice (love her) JI-EUNS HUSBAND LETS GOOOOOO, Jungkook and Y/N get real compeitive in this one. Jungkook does not know how he feels, y/n cannot keep it in her pants, just trust me this is a really funny chapter, NAMJOON AND MELANIE APPEARANCE (love them), tension, tension, tension ❥word-count: 13.2k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! a/n: Surprise!! I had a burst of creative energy and busted out this chapter in like 12 hours. Enjoy!! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
“Don’t stop.” You stutter over your words, gripping down on the sheets next to you. Tugging at the fabric in reaction to the pleasure you were receiving. 
Fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of you. Tongue dancing over your clit from side to side. Causing your legs to close around the person below you in reaction to the hints of your orgasm bubbling up. You were hot and completely covered in sweat and desperate to chase that high. 
“Fuck, yes!” You moan. Your hand reached down to wrap into the mess of black hair between your legs. 
You grind your hips into their fingers and mouth, desperate for any touch they grant you. One of their free holding your hips down in response. Their lips detaching from your clit to look up at you finally, you can get a look. 
Only to be met with Jungkooks face looking back up at yours. Eyes sparkling with desire. 
“Baby let me take care of you.” Jungkook said, wiping his mouth.
Then suddenly your eyes shot open. Bolting upright in bed. The light from the sun fills the room and blinding you. You had shifted rather violently, stirring Melanie that was asleep next to you and Ash who was on the other side of you. 
You rub your eyes, your dreamy state still lingering at the front of your mind. You run your fingers through your hair. Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. Your breath is heavy. 
Great, now he’s infiltrated your dreams. 
Awesome.
You take a moment and look around Namjoon and Melanie’s room. Still trying to fully wake up now. It must have been early. Namjoon is nowhere in sight.
“Oh no, we did it again.” With a whisper, letting yourself fall back into the bed. Immediately regretting it since a small hangover headache was creeping up on you. 
“Shhh, still sleeping.” Ash moaned, turning over under the cover, stealing some away from Melanie who was barely waking up, mouth hanging open. 
“Shut up.” Melanie groaned, trying to steal the covers back. 
“We kicked Namjoon out again.” You rub your eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. 
“I know.” Melanie yawned, turning over to face you. “He’s used to it at this point.” 
“Hey at least it’s not like when you guys had your shitty old bed and we barely fit on it together.” Ash sat up in the bed. Her hair is a complete mess. 
Melanie and Namjoon used to have a queen and it would barely fit the three of you when you three would crash. At least one of you would easily fall out of the bed in the night, you all were restless sleepers so it was anyone’s guess who would end up falling out of the bed. One morning Melanie ended up falling and hitting her head pretty hard. Taking a very fun trip to the ER with her head split open. 
After that Namjoon decided they needed to get a bigger and better bed so that would not happen again. 
You giggle to yourself while rubbing the side of your head, “Yeah how nice of Namjoon to get this big bed just for us.” 
That gets some small laughs from Melanie and Ash. Right at that moment the door cracked open, Namjoons face peering into the room. Looking between the three of you. Melanie immediately sitting up in the bed. 
“Good morning.” Namjoon lightly stepped into the room with an amused smile. 
“Guys look how cute my husband is.” Melanie tilts her head to the side, reaching a hand for Namjoon to take her hand. 
“So weird hearing you say husband now.” Ash ran her hands through her hair, fingers trying to comb through tangles. 
“Imagine how I feel.” Namjoon smiles, coming over to the side Melanie is on. Taking her hand and kissing the back of it. 
“You hate it?” Melanie pouted. 
“Yeah, I hate it, that’s why I married you.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. Leaning down giving Melanie a quick kiss. 
“Get a room.” You tease, throwing your hands over your eyes like a small child. 
“You’re in my room!” Namjoon voiced with some fake annoyance in his tone, “I was going to go get breakfast. So put in your orders now.”
“You know my order.” Melanie grinned, She hadn’t looked at either you or Ash since Namjoon entered the room. 
“What about thing 1 and thing 2 over there?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow to the both of you and Ash. 
“Eggs Benedict.” You raise a arm up, finger pointing to the sky. 
“French toast.” Ash yawns, she looked like she was seconds away from falling back asleep while sitting up. You laugh, poking her cheek. 
“I’m on it.” Namjoon kisses Melanie one more time before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. 
“Guys,” Melanie hums, “I’m married.” 
“You're just now realizing that?” You smile, she turns around to look at the both of you. 
“Nah but it’s fun to say. I’m married.” She coos, laying back down next to you. Totally starstruck. It was sweet, you loved seeing her so happy. 
“I’m so tired.” Ash whines next to the both of you, still looking like she could pass out any second. 
“You should sleep, or get some coffee.” You rub her arm, encouraging her to do something. 
This immediately perked Melanie up from her spot, springing to her feet. “Oh we have a new machine! It’s great! Joonie’s parents got it for us.” 
She rounded around to the other side of the bed pulling Ash to her feet. You slowly followed them out of the room. Down to the kitchen. Yawns falling from you the entire way, you also needed some coffee this morning. Ash leaned her head on you, entering the kitchen as Melanie seemed to have all the energy in the world suddenly. 
“What woke you  up so suddenly this morning? It scared me awake.” Ash asked, the both of you taking seats at the kitchen table as you waited. 
The contents of the dream coming back to the front of your mind like a truck hitting a wall. “Oh… just a nightmare. Freaked me out I guess.” 
Melanie shuffled around for a moment while you watched her gather mugs and start the new coffee maker. “You and Jungkook got along well last night.” 
There he was again. 
“I guess.” You lay your head on the table. “Really only for you guys.” 
“Yeah but you made it through the day without a fight. Just mild annoyances. Seems like progress.” Melanie continued, you weren’t sure what she was getting at here. 
“Spit it out Mel.” 
Melanie pouts, she likes to dance around these kinds of things. “You seem friendlier since we left. Just last week you still wanted to kill him.” 
You think on it for a moment, “I don’t know, maybe we are growing up.” 
“Yeah okay.” She scoffs, because it was a ridiculous thought. “I think it’s great. I’ve always thought you two could be really good friends. You know, if you could get past your ego’s first.”
“Hey! Friend is a stretch. Let’s not jump too far ahead of ourselves.” 
“I thought for sure he was dead when he sat on you.” Ash mumbled next to you, still hardly awake. 
“He was close. I don’t know, maybe I just don’t have the energy for it anymore.” You shrug, referring to battling it out with Jungkook. Omitting some key information about your recent activities. 
“Well whatever it is, keep going. It’s working.” Melanie brings a cup and sets it in front of Ash first. “Means I don’t have to play parent for you two anymore.” 
Melanie, not aware what exactly what she was encouraging. 
You thought for a moment if you should tell them… but something about admitting it felt… embarrassing. You and Jungkook sleeping together wasn’t embarrassing as an idea but something felt weird about admitting it. Telling them mabe makes it real? Instead of it being something you can pretend didn’t happen. If they know then it becomes actualized. Which you weren’t sure if you were ready for the teasing or the questions that will come along with it. 
After too long Namjoon returned back with the food. You all sat and chatted for a while but you left once you finished. Your day continues uneventfully. You filed your dream away into a deep part of your mind. Honestly, you did seriously need to see someone with how much space Jungkook was taking up in your brain these days. It was exhausting and annoying, because before you could just pretend he didn’t really exist unless you absolutely had to be in his presence. 
Now, he was creeping into your mind randomly. Mostly because you have a stupid and horny mind but still. Even beyond that it was getting annoying, so when you went back to work on Monday you just went about your business and kept your mind as busy as possible. 
Today you were a scribe for Dr. Kim. Which meant you walked around and documented charts as he did consultations and follow ups with patients. You had been wanting to do this for some time but he wanted you to get comfortable first. You felt like you were fitting in well up here, all the other girls were great and Vic has been your friend forever so you were getting really comfortable. All the patients knew you pretty well now, so today was the day. 
Dr. Kim kept you on your toes, though. He moved quickly from room to room, and you felt like you were constantly catching up. He was thorough, meticulous, and demanded precision, which made this a challenging but rewarding role.
“Keeping up Y/N?” Dr. Kim looks back at you as he leads his band of interns and Yoongi, behind him. 
“Doing alright sir.” You nod, opening up your next chart. Luckily Ji-eun was up next, hers should be pretty straight forward. Dr. Kim ordered a new set of scans because he wanted an updated look at her progress before surgery in two weeks. 
You had run around most of the day but would go back and forth between talking to patients and viewing scans in an observation room, it had screens around the room so you could pull up scans from a patient's chart. Which you had taken the liberty of pulling up and having ready. Dr. kim walked between them and would ask questions. 
“Alright patient nine zero one six one three. Dr. Duboid, give us the run down.” Dr. Kim gestured to one of the interns who stepped out from the rest. Clearing his throat. 
Alright, patient nine-zero-one-six-one-three. Dr. Dubois, give us the rundown.” Dr. Kim commanded.
Dr. Dubois, stepping forward, cleared his throat. “Fifty-nine-year-old female with stage four hepatocellular carcinoma. She is currently being evaluated for potential downstaging to stage three following her upcoming surgical intervention to remove a tumor in the left leg, initially suspected to be metastatic but confirmed via biopsy to be an independent neoplasm.”
Dr. Kim cut in, pointing to another intern. “Very good. Dr. Ruiz, continue.”
Dr. Ruiz adjusted her glasses and spoke. “Chemotherapy was discontinued last week and will remain on hold until two weeks post-surgery. A follow-up consultation is scheduled to determine the reintroduction of systemic therapy based on post-operative recovery and further imaging.”
Yoongi, ever prepared, chimed in with a thoughtful nod. “A new set of contrast-enhanced CT scans were ordered over the weekend for both the leg and liver. As we can observe, the leg tumor has remained stable in size, indicating that surgical excision is a viable next step.”
Dr. Kim scanned the room. “What concerns should we keep in mind? Dr. Ito?”
Dr. Ito stepped forward, pointing at the monitor. “The tumor in the leg appears to be intricately involved with several neurovascular structures. Should we consult orthopedic and neurosurgery for intraoperative support?”
“Excellent observation.” Dr. Kim nodded. “Dr. White from orthopedic oncology will be assisting to ensure nerve preservation and potential reattachment.” He turned to you. “Y/N, make a note: I want to push the surgery back two more weeks to allow for optimal systemic clearance following her last chemotherapy infusion.”
You nod and take a note in her chart. “Got it.” You go ahead and switch the scans from the one of the leg to the one of the liver. Everyone stares at it for a moment before Dr. Kim comes over to the computer where you have the newest scans pulled up. 
“Let’s pull up her last scans… I need to make sure I’m seeing this right.” Dr. Kim’s voice changed in tone slightly. You go ahead and pull up her last scans from several weeks ago and put them side by side with the new ones. It was glaringly obvious what he was seeing now that they were side by side.
“Dr. Min, what are we seeing here?” Dr. Kim gestures for Yoongi to continue on. He leaned in close to the computer where the scans were pulled up and started fiercely making some notes. 
Yoongi leaned in, analyzing the comparative scans. “Between the previous and current scans, the primary hepatic lesion has demonstrated interval progression. Now what does this mean?” Yoongi looks to the Interns. Which meant the main tumor on her liver has grown, it was slight. You might not have even seen it if the images weren’t side by side but it definitely had.
One of the interns raised a hand. “Resistance to the prior chemotherapy regimen?”
“Possible and likely in this case.” Yoongi acknowledged. “Other thoughts?”
“It’s an aggressive cancer, as soon as the chemotherapy discontinued it started to grow. So the chemotherapy wasn’t preventing the primary hepatic lesion from growing anymore.” 
“Good, so how should we proceed?” Yoongi nodded. 
“This might be the more pressing issue. Should we consider postponing the surgery?” one of the interns asked hesitantly, glancing between the scans and Dr. Kim.
Dr. Kim shook his head firmly. “No,” he said with certainty. “We proceed with the surgery as planned. The primary focus remains on addressing the current issue, but we will continue to closely monitor the tumor's progression. We also need to have an in-depth discussion with the patient about potential treatment options and gather more imaging to determine if surgical resection is viable.”
You tried to keep your expression neutral, but inwardly, the situation weighed heavily on you. This wasn’t the news anyone wanted to hear.
“Order an MRI,” Dr. Kim continued, his voice steady but concerned. “I want detailed imaging from every possible angle. I need to have a complete picture so we can provide her with all available options moving forward.”
You kept your thoughts to yourself and figured you could ask later. Putting in the order for the MRI and you were moving on. After some more discussion you all were back on the floor and making your way from room to room again following up with more patients. Ending with Ji-eun.
Scanning the room, you see a gentlemen sitting next to her. Roughly about the same age. You can probably assume her husband. He was adorable and had a salt a pepper look to his hair. 
“Good morning Ji-eun!” Dr. Kim sang as he entered the room. You and the interns following close behind. “I hope you don’t mind. I have the kids with me today.” 
Ji-eun smiled beaming at everyone. You got to look next to her and see an older gentleman, probably around the same age who you can only assume is her husband with her. You hadn't gotten to met him yet. “Not at all. Any chance they get to learn the better.” 
Jin tapped his head against the side of his head, “I agree. We have a few things we need to go over. Starting with that leg of yours.” Jin holds his hand out to you for the tablet, you already had the scans of her leg pulled up and pass him the tablet. “We should have no issues going ahead with the surgery to remove the tumor in your leg. Has Dr. White come and spoke to you about what he’ll be assisting me with in surgery?” 
“Yes he came by earlier and gave us the details. Sounds complicated but I get the idea.” 
The gentleman next to her cleared his throat, “We did have some concerns about nerve damage that we didn’t get to ask about.”
“Well with any surgery there is risk. In this case though Dr. White didn’t see any reason you shouldn’t be able to still have full mobility of your leg following the operation. I agree with him as well.” Dr. Kim’s voice as ever light and enthusiastic as always. “I did push it back two more week though. I want to make sure that we don’t run into any complications following your last infusion.” 
“I won’t complain. Every time I have surgery this guy falls into a full blown panic.” She teases the man next to her. He has a adoring smile on his face but rolls his eyes. 
“Rightfully so I think.” He pipes back up. 
“I have a little more to share before I’ll get out of your hair. Yoongi present.” Dr. Kim steps off to the side, passing the tablet to Yoongi. 
Yoongi, switching to her liver scans. “We also learned from your most recent scans that the largest tumor on your liver has grown.” He shows her the sans so she can see. “It’s not significant and it won’t delay your surgery but once we conclude with your operation we should talk the possibility of changing medication or seeing about another operation to resect some of the tumor.” 
“I’m not getting better essentially.” Ji-euns face stayed the same but her tone suggested slight disappointment. 
“Not at all. It’s an aggressive cancer and we have seen growth before. We just need to take another approach. We are going to closely monitor it before your surgery to make sure it doesn’t grow anymore.” Yoongi assured, trying to put on a neutral but kind face.
“Your sweet to assure me but I have been fighting this a long time. I try no to get my hopes up.” Ji-eun stated. 
“What do we need to do?” Ji-eun's husband butted in. 
“We are just going to continue the pain management for now. It’s important we get the tumor out of your leg. We’ve also ordered for you to be taken down for another MRI today so that we can get a much more detailed scan of your liver so we can better see what’s going on.” Yoongi continues, passing the tablet back to you. 
“I will look at the new MRI scans and come up with a new plan. I know we were just starting something new and I know this is not the news we wanted but I’m far from giving up hope.” Dr. Kim interjected. You couldn’t help but notice Ji-eun was putting on a brave smile, bright like always. Except a small sadness behind the eyes. “The tumor growing could mean anything. It could be from the regime change or from the the discontinuation of treatment.” 
“I know. We’ve been through it a lot of times before.” She sighs and her eyes are darting from side to side like she is lost in thought. “Oh before I forget I have something for you two.” She points for her husband to grab her the scarves she had been working on. 
“Ji-eun you know I can’t accept bribes.” Dr. kim jokes and everyone laughs a little. 
“Oh please.” She waves him off as she hands the scarves made for both him, and looks like she busted out one for Yoongi pretty quickly since you saw her on Friday. “I made these because I wanted to gives my thanks to you two somehow.” 
Jin taking his multicolored one and immediately wrapping it around himself, “Oh it’s lovely! I’m wearing this everyday once it gets colder. Yoongi put yours on.” 
Yoongi was just feeling his in his hands. “Oh I’ll wear it home.” 
“Awe come on. we need to see if it looks nice.” You chime in with a grin. Yoongi was unamused. Reluctantly wrapping it around himself, throwing one of the sides over his shoulder. 
“Oh they’re perfect.” Ji-eun clapped her hands together.
“Alright. Well, we’ll get those new scans. I’ll be back to see you soon once we have the results.” Dr. Kim’s voice was calm but firm, his nod signaling the team to follow. The interns shuffled out and Yoongi trailed behind, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his expression unreadable as always. Ji-eun was the last patient on their rounds, and as the room emptied, you lingered, feeling the weight of the moment settle in the air. 
You adjusted the tablet under your arm, stepping closer to the bed. Ji-eun’s husband  sat in the chair beside her, his hands clasped tightly, his face a mix of concern and quiet strength. Ji-eun herself was propped up on the pillows, her usual spark dimmed just a fraction, though she still managed a small smile when your eyes met.
“Do you guys have any questions or anything? I know that was a lot of news all at once.” Your voice was soft, careful not to break the fragile calm in the room. You moved to the side of the bed looking to her husband, “I’m Y/N, by the way. I’ve been on Ji-eun’s case since she got here.” 
You extended your hand to him,and he took it with a firm grip. “Youngjin,” He said, his voice warm but tired. “Ji-eun hasn’t stopped talking about the wonderful girl who takes care of her. I’m assuming that’s you.” He gave your hand a solid shake before releasing it, his smile genuine but fleeting.
You chuckled, glancing at Ji-eun. “Bragging about me, huh?” 
Ji-eun’s laugh was light, though it carried a hint of weariness. “Ah, I can’t help it. You’re the most interesting one here.” She leaned back against the pillows, her eyes twinkling despite the heaviness of the conversation. “This is the one with the boy problems.” She added in a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear.
You groaned, playfully swatting her leg. “I don’t have boy problems, and that’s not something everyone needs to know.” 
Youngjin chuckled, his deep voice filling the room. “If it helps, she texts me every little piece of gossip she hears. She’s got dirt on everyone on this floor.”
“I sit around and walk up and down the halls all day—what else am I supposed to do?” Ji-eun protested, though her grin betrayed her. She leaned her head back, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the blanket. “Which reminds me… you haven’t mentioned your pain-in-the-butt friend recently.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.” 
Ji-eun narrowed her eyes, considering your offer, then nodded. “You drive a hard bargain.” She sighed, sitting up straighter. She glanced at Youngjin, then back at you, her expression softening. “What’s there to say? One of my tumors is growing again. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”
Your smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet empathy. “It’s like Dr. Kim said… it could just be a fluke.”
“Or it could be getting worse.” Ji-eun sang softly, though the disappointment in her tone was unmistakable. 
“We don’t know yet.” You countered, mimicking her sing-song tone. “You’re getting the MRI this afternoon, and then we’ll know more. Dr. Kim didn’t seem worried, so I’m not worried.”
Ji-eun sighed, her fingers now fiddling with the edge of her hospital gown. “I guess. I’ve had that kid treating me for as long as I’ve been diagnosed—”
“So you know he’d be straight with you.” You reassured her, your voice steady. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Youngjin nodded, his gaze shifting between you and Ji-eun. “She’s good.” he said, his tone approving. 
Ji-eun let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I have an aggressive cancer. That’s not new. I think I’m just getting annoyed with hearing it’s staying the same. It’s been the same for years. I’m just living with it at this point. I just… hoped, maybe, we would have seen improvement by now.”
Your heart ached for her. You couldn’t fully understand, but you could feel the weight of her words. “Dr. Kim is going to look at the new scans.” You said gently. “He’s probably coming up with ten more plans in his head as we speak. He’s not giving up, he’s not even close. We have to get you back on your feet without that leg monster first. Then we’ll go from there. He’s ready to fight if you are.”
Ji-eun’s lips curved into a small smile, though her eyes remained distant. “I’ve got plenty of fight left, kid. Don’t you worry.” She reached out, patting your arm. “You’ve got the poor-dying-person sympathy face. Enough of that, I’m sick, but I’m not dying. Now… My turn!”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “No, no, no. I’ve got a few more questions.”
Ji-eun groaned, rolling her eyes. “You and I both know that stuff is so boring.”
“That stuff is what helps us treat you.” You countered, your tone light but firm.
Youngjin stood, stretching his legs. “Well, this is going to go on for a while. I’m going to go get us some food while you dole out your interrogation. Don’t go too hard on her.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Ji-eun’s forehead.
“I won’t.” You promised.
“Oh, I was talking to my wife.” He teased, his laughter echoing as he made his way out of the room. “Play nice.”
“Never,” Ji-eun shot back, her grin widening as she watched him go. She turned back to you, her expression softening. 
“Your husband is lovely.” You said, settling into the chair Youngjin had vacated.
“I know.” Ji-eun replied, her voice warm. She tilted her head, studying you. “Now, give me updates while you examine me or something.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I actually have other work I should be doing.”
“That’s why you should ‘examine’ me.” She said, her tone mischievous.
“Don’t you have your own kids you can bug about this?” You teased, knowing her sons were a constant source of both pride and exasperation for her.
“Their stuff isn’t nearly as fun as yours.” She said, her eyes sparkling. “Come on, I’m sick and dying.”
“You just said you weren’t dying, remember?” You said firmly, though your voice was gentle.
Ji-eun let out an exaggerated cough, clutching her chest. “I’m practically withering away! Please it’s my dying wish.”
“Uh-huh, that’s a horrible last wish.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t really have anything new for you. That… stupid guy who’s been bothering me has left me alone… mostly.”
“Mostly?” Ji-eun raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.
“We had to be around each other for a friend thing, and I don’t know… he was being… nice? Civil? It was… odd.”
“Good odd?” Ji-eun pressed.
“More like strange. I’m so used to fighting all the time, it was… weird.”
Ji-eun leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “I feel like I’ve asked before. Is there any history there?”
“No,” You said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. “No, we just exist in the same spaces.”
“Hmm,” Ji-eun hummed, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Well, maybe he’s changed. Maybe something happened, and he’s turning over a new leaf.”
“Seems out of character. Maybe.” You muttered, though the thought lingered. That didn’t help your currently predicament where he was taking up a small little piece of your brain you couldn’t control. 
“Well, I’m going to need more updates on this. It’s getting juicy. Maybe he’s actually liked you this whole time, but you were sending the wrong signals.”
You shake your head with and exasperated scoff, “Considering he once told me I looked like a run-over raccoon, I doubt it.”
Ji-eun gasped. “Never let anyone talk to you like that. Especially some boy.”
“If I’m being totally fair, I told him he looked like a cat vomited on him… and that he smelled like it too.” A result of one of the worst fights the two of you ever had. You’ve both definitely pushed your insults much further but definitely not things you should say at work. 
Ji-eun let’s out a small laugh. “It must be like watching a train wreck when you two fight.”
“Something like that.” You exhaled, glancing at the clock. “I do have to get back to my other tasks, but is there anything else I can do? Anything else you want to know?” You hesitated, feeling like maybe you could offer something more, even if you weren’t sure what that was.
Ji-eun’s expression softened, her laughter fading into a quiet smile. “I’m alright, kid. I’m not devastated or going to spiral into a depressive episode. It’s just… maybe you don’t get it unless you have cancer, but I’ve learned to live with the disappointment that things can always get worse. A tumor can grow, another tumor can materialize. It’s frustrating, sure, because it means we have to try something new. I get to experience a whole new set of side effects. But I do it… I have to.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy and raw. You pulled the chair closer. “I guess I understand… well, as much as I can. You know, you’re in charge, though. We’ll do whatever you want… it’s your life.”
Ji-eun’s face shifted, her gaze dropping to her hands. “It’s not. It’s never been just me… it’s my husband and my kids too. I have so many things I have yet to see them do. Get married, have kids of their own, live fulfilling lives. They haven’t really gotten to fully live because they all sit and dote on me…” Her voice wavered, the frustration and sadness intertwining.
“Sounds like they don’t mind, the way you talk about them.” You said gently.
“They don’t… but I don’t want them to have too forever. My husband has come to see my side of it more and more, but my boys are still the more… what’s the best word for it… aggressive when it comes to fixing any new problems I accrue as a result of this stupid thing. Dr. Kim has been on the receiving end of their insistent questioning more than once.” She picked at her fingers, a self-soothing gesture you’d come to recognize.
“Will you tell them the tumor has grown?” You asked, your voice soft.
Ji-eun hesitated, then shook her head. “Mmm, maybe not this time. Dr. Min said it wasn’t substantial, right?”
“No.” You said quickly, turning the tablet back on to pull up her scans. “Here, this is your last scan and your current one. It’s minor, but it’s important to monitor. Like Dr. Kim said, he just doesn’t know yet why it happened. We’ll keep a close eye, though.” You pointed to the screen, showing her the small but noticeable growth.
She nodded, her eyes scanning the images. “Then no reason to worry them… unless it means the chemo isn’t working anymore.”
You shook your head, closing the tablet and resting it on your lap. “Let’s just get you past this surgery first. Then Dr. Kim will cross that bridge.”
Ji-eun’s smile returned, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “Look who’s the hopeful one today. I’d almost think you care about me.”
You stood, laughing softly. “I care about everyone up here. I just like you a little more. I need to get back to work now.”
“Alright, fine.” Ji-eun called after you as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I need to have you give my kids the news in the future. Make them feel like it’s not so serious.”
You paused, turning back to her. “I think we’d be on the same page. If it were my mom, I’d probably fight as hard as they do to find answers.”
Ji-eun’s smile softened, and for a moment, the room felt lighter. You made your way back to the nurses’ station, where Yoongi was seated, frantically typing into a chart. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but he glanced up as you approached. He was still wearing the scarf.
“Do me a favor.” You said, rolling your chair closer to his.
“No.” Yoongi groaned, not looking up.
“Aww, come on.” You pouted, tapping his shoulder incessantly.
Yoongi sighed, finally turning to you. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t need any scans.”
“This isn’t about that!” You huffed. “This is serious.”
“Oh… what’s up?” He asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.
“Will you round back around to Ji-eun’s room later? I think they still have some more questions but just need some time with the new updates.”
Yoongi nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sure, yeah. I can round back around in a few hours after her MRI. See if they have anything else they’d like to know.”
“Thank you.” You said, rolling back to your side of the desk.
Yoongi tapped his chin, studying you. “You’re getting pretty attached to her, huh?”
You looked up, meeting his gaze. “I mean, I really like her, if that’s what you mean.”
“I mean it seems like you’re getting pretty emotionally invested… in her case. You seem to take a little extra care in this situation. Do you know her or something?”
“Not at all.” You said, shaking your head. “She was the first person I helped when I got up here, so she confides in me often. She’s sweet and makes the day easier.
Yoongi’s expression softened, though his tone carried a note of caution. “Just be careful… getting attached up here… it’s an easy way to get hurt.”
“Spoken from experience?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Yoongi’s smile was sad, his gaze distant. “You could say that. We have a hard enough job as it is. We watch patients beat impossible odds and lose to simple complications… it can be taxing when you get so close to them, and they lose.”
“I hear you.” You said quietly. “I’ll be careful.”
Yoongi nodded, his attention returning to the chart in front of him. You sat back in your chair, the weight of his words settling over you. It wasn’t something you hadn’t heard before; Vic had warned you of the same thing when you first started working on this floor. Emotional attachment isn’t a bad thing when it comes to patient care, it’s required, but boundaries with your personal feelings is what is important. 
Maybe you were getting a bit attached to Ji-eun but you knew how to pull back so that you can do your job the best way you can. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
“Alright let’s go home.” Jungkook with a wave of his hand dismissed everyone. Paralegals and other associates packing up their things to finally leave for the day. 
It’s now the end of the week and he figured he might as well dismiss everyone for the weekend, there wasn’t going to be any progress until Monday anyways. No reason to keep everyone around longer than necessary. 
The trial had taken a slight annoying turn. The defense had brought to light some evidence about his clients that was information that had chosen to omit from his teams knowledge or research. So it’s caused a bit of a standstill on their side of the case. Which means they had been spending the entire week coming up with a strategy to combat this. But They were in recess until next week due to this presentation of evidence so they had some time but they weren’t going to learn anything new over the weekend and they wouldn’t be able to converse with the clients until Monday. So calling it a night was best. 
Jungkook may be working through the weekend but there is no reason to drag everyone down with him. 
“Tough situation.” Jimin came up and gave a pat on Jungkook’s shoulder. 
“Yeah, doesn’t begin to describe it. More like throws a wrench into our whole case.” Jungkook gathering some papers, filing them back together nicely so he can get them back into his bag. Ultimately to take them out at home and make them over again. 
“Need me to come over? We can talk it through, look over everything again?” Jimin offered with a sympathetic smile, “Or take you out for a drink and we can bitch and moan. Haven’t done that in a while. I bet we can rope Taehyung in.” 
Jungkook thought about it, he could use some sort of release of frustration but he probably needed to keep his head clear. He’d gotten back on his game but this week proved to throw a punch left and right. “As much as I would like it. I think I just need to go home and drown in my own self pity.” 
“Awe come on. Better to spiral with a friend or two.” Jimin bounced on his heals with anticipation. “Maybe not a drink maybe, how about we get some food? You haven’t eaten today right? Maybe bowling?” 
Jungkook could tell what Jimin was doing, clearing the noise. “You suck at bowling.” 
“And?” He shrugs. “Come on, we’ll get some laughs out of it. Taehyung’s even worse than me. It’ll be fun.” 
Jungkook smiled at the thought. Taehyung truly was terrible at bowling. “Alright, I can spend the evening making you both look like huge losers.” 
“There we go. That’s the spirit.” Jimin left the meeting room, assuredly to go gather his things 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
“God, please. Just allow me one strike. You’ve granted Jungkook so many. Please allow me one.” Taehyung was speaking to the bowling ball in his hand. Jungkook and Jimin just watching him as he pleads to break his total score of 32. 
They are now well into their second game. Taehyung sorely lost the first one and is somehow losing even worse the second time around. How? It was unimaginable but highly entertaining for Jimin and Jungkook. After work Jungkook went home and changed into something far more casual. A white shirt and some wide leg dark jeans. Eventually meeting Jimin who, with little effort, did manage to get Taehyung to join them. Now some food and a few drinks later here they were. Much more relaxed than how he had started the evening. 
Jimin was really good at that, making the end of the day better than the start. Even if the start sucked. 
“Just bowl!” Jimin complained as Taehyung was continuing to sing praises to the bowling ball. 
With that Taehyung sends the purple ball down the alley, and with a quick curve he sinks it into the gutter. Dropping to his knees in dramatic defeat. “The universe hates me.” 
He gives a small pout looking in Jungkook’s direction. Jungkook shook his head, “I have shown you how to throw a ball countless times! I’m not helping you anymore! My talents are wasted on you.” 
“So you also hate me.” Taehyung drops his head, but Jimin walks over and pulls him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt.
“My turn you big baby.” Jimin says, pushing Taehyung back to the table with Jungkook. Defeat written all over his face, taking a chair next to Jungkook. 
“You’ll get 'em next time tiger.” Jungkook shakes Taehyung’s shoulder with encouragement. 
“Perhaps.” Taehyung sighed, heavy and exaggerated. “Oh to have such effortless talent.” 
“What can I say? Some of us are just born awesome.” Jungkook leans back into his seat, arms behind his head all nonchalant. He’s had a beer or two so he was feeling pretty good. The bowling helped. 
“Wow, you could try to be humble.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. Sitting up in his seat, “Jimin said it was a tough week?” 
“Yeah this case took an unexpected turn so I got to spend the weekend fixing it… or something. Then other stuff, not an awesome week for me.” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, tousling it a bit from its position. It had grown out a little, it tickled the back of his neck. 
“Hmm, sucks. Need a mock trial with me and Namjoon again? … Maybe another kind of stress relief.” Taehyung’s tone pointed. Jungkook knew exactly what he was referring to. He spent the entire week sending not so subtle texts that Jungkook should reach out to you. Like that would ever happen, Jungkook didn’t even have your number.
 It wasn’t unusual of Taehyung to pry into Jungkook’s feelings or into his life. It was actually annoyingly consistent. He’d been this way forever, always with the best of intentions. He wanted Jungkook to be happy and not so stuck in work or school or whatever. Jungkook was sometimes so one track minded and Taehyung, with Jimin’s help occasionally, did a pretty good job of getting him to chill out. Didn’t mean he didn’t also try to meddle into Jungkook’s love life… which in this case was just his intimate life. 
So this was pretty typical of Taehyung.
“Not this again.” Jungkook groaned, taking a fry and eating it. “When will you let this go?” 
“Give me a few more weeks? Maybe never.” Taehyung smirked, “Come on. You guys have heat! Why deny it?” 
“Deny what?” Jimin coming back and sitting with the two of them. 
Jungkook looks between them, “Nothing.” 
“Jungkook’s a scaredy cat.” Taehyung quipped, “Denying himself simple pleasures.” 
Taehyung may have been hitting the nail on the head, as much and Jungkook wanted to deny it. Your encounter this last weekend proved that Taehyung was right, you were just a nice person. It’s not like Jungkook didn’t know it. You’ve known each other a long time, but having it in his face kicked up some old memories. Kicking up some old thoughts and he didn’t care to explore. Maybe he was in denial. 
“Oh look, it’s my turn.” Jungkook stood grabbing his ball to bowl. 
“You can’t hide from me!” Taehyung mockingly calls to him as he goes up to the lane. 
“Care to explain?” Jimin leans in Taehyung’s direction. Taehyung waving him off. 
“His business to share, not mine. Trust me it’s good though.” Taehyung stood from his seat, wanting to get another drink but also possibly find a new ball. In the hopes that possibly his sixth, no seventh choice in bowling will bring him victory. 
As he scourers the lanes for his option. He passes by a group who seems to be coming into the bowling alley. With a straggler following behind, bowling shoes in hand. Taehyung makes a passing glance at the group. Just a few girls, but it wasn’t any of them that caught his attention. It was the last one. 
“Ah, wait up.” You called after them, you were balancing your phone  and wallet and shoes in your hands. While the other girls trailed ahead. 
“Y/N?” Taehyung calls your name, making you spin on your heel. A confused look on your face, wondering who could possibly be calling your name.
Your expression softened at the sight of Taehyung. “Hey, what are you doing here?” You look at the other girls but figure you can track them down. Walking over to him to give him a hug. 
He reciprocated in kind, pausing for a moment.“Just with some friends. Who are you with?” 
“Oh,” You wave your hand in the direction they went. “girls from work. Some last second plans.” 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Well we had kind of a long and tough day and wanted to blow off some steam. I lost the vote so here we are.” You explain, you didn’t hate bowling, you just would have preferred other activities to be honest. 
“You don’t say.” Taehyung smiles, unbeknownst to you as to why. “Well hey. Do you happen to have any bowling expertise? I could use some help picking out a ball.” 
He points to the racks of the bowling balls, and you nod. “I do, as a matter of fact.” 
You follow Taehyung along for a minute, helping him pick out a proper bowling ball. Finding one for yourself as well. You weren’t lying when you said you knew a thing about bowling. Then going up the lanes to see where your coworkers ended up landing. Which was right next to Taehyung’s lane. Taehyung couldn’t believe the odds. You made some chit chat as you walked back. Not before you immediately spotted the black mop of hair. Followed by the visual of his tattooed arm. He was faced away from the two of you. 
Of course Tae wouldn’t tell you that Jungkook was here.
Before you can get a word in. “Look who I ran into.” Taehyung’s voice jumps an octave, with joy and mischief.
Jimin looks up to see you with sudden surprise on his face, Jungkook turns in his seat to see you. He blinked, looking between you and Taehyung. What had he summoned you or something? Tae was only gone for a minute. Jungkook was obviously thrown and your expression seemed to match that of yours, you weren’t prepared for this encounter either.  
“Hi Jimin.” You give him a polite wave, glancing at Jungkook. “Jungkook.” 
Jimin waves to you. Worried that he was going to witness another explosive exchange. Surprised when Jungkook just sort of acknowledges you with a head nod. 
“Y/N.” He responds. 
“Just our luck running into Y/N.” Taehyung hugged your shoulder then letting you go and going to put his ball in the lane.
“He didn’t tell me you were here.” You sigh. 
“Yeah, I have a feeling that was on purpose.” Jungkook followed Taehyung with his eyes, throwing daggers at him. 
“Y/N!” One of the girls from your groups calls out to you. You glance over to them. You all managed to be placed right next to Jungkook’s lane. So it looks like this will be interesting. 
These were coworkers you didn’t hang with often. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
Earlier that evening. 
Will some tension and tiredness you pulled your scrubs off your body. Discarding them into a bin that was made for scrubs that had fluids on them. You hadn’t managed to keep yourself clean right until the end when your last ER patient had thrown up you on you.. 
You got pulled down to the ER today because of a mass casualty incident. They needed all hands on deck and so that meant that you got pulled down from oncology. It was a bus crash and luckily there were no casualties but a lot of injuries. It took most of the day to get through everyone and get them treated and sent where they needed to be. It had been sometime since you had been in the ER working so the pace threw you off but you caught up quickly. 
One of the other girls who worked down here, really the only one you knew was clocking out with you. Layla, She was changing with you, the two of you had been running side by side all day. Keeping each other held up in the chaos. 
“I want to go back upstairs.” You moan putting back on your regular clothes. Layla laughed under her breath nodding. 
“Lost your stamina from being in a slow paced environment.” She teased but she was right. You hadn’t been running around on alert every second for weeks now.
“I suppose so. I need to relax or something after all that. I’m all anxious and tense now.” You try to shake out your arms almost like you can shake the anxiety away. 
“How about we go get a drink or do something?” Layla offers, you two had hung out once or twice before but it’s been quite some time. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・
Right as she was suggesting it though some of the other girls in the locker room overheard the offer. You didn’t know their names. They ended up inviting themselves along for the night. It was an opportunity to get to know these girls even though you really only cared to hang out with Layla. You still wanted to be nice. 
You step to the side. 
“Hey so this lane only allows five players.” One of the girls, who you’d come to learn from, was named Kenna. 
“Oh well there are only four of us. What’s the problem?” You looked between them, an apologetic look plastered on Layla’s face. The other girl, Jea, cleared her throat. 
“I sort of invited some guys from Neuro to join us?” She winced, not seeming that apologetic about her choice. 
Oh god, you really hated all of the guys in Neuro. 
“You can join our lane Y/N.” Taehyung who was not so subtly listening into your conversation, interjected. 
You look back at him and shake your head. “Oh no I couldn’t impose.” 
“Oh come on.” Taehyung steps over to the little circle the four of you made, “Hi ladies. I’m Tae.” 
With his usual easy charm, he offered his hand, shaking around the group. The introductions were brief but polite, and it didn’t take long for your friends to pick up on the dynamics at play. The unspoken understanding that you and Taehyung were just friends was clear as day. Other observations, however, were quickly forming—particularly regarding Jimin and Jungkook, who were standing just a little too close, their attention shifting between you and the conversation.
“Seriously, it’s not a problem.” Taehyung continued, turning his attention back to you. “You could help us take down Jungkook.” 
At that, Jungkook scoffed from where he stood, arms crossed. “Excuse me?”
Taehyung barely acknowledged him, instead giving you his most dramatic, wide-eyed, brown puppy-dog stare. “And think about it, Y/N—we could sort of combine parties. A win-win situation.”
You hesitated, glancing at your friends. The idea wasn’t entirely awful, but—
“Oh, I don’t know…” You trailed off, shifting on your feet.
Your hesitation wasn’t just because of Jungkook. Not entirely, at least.
Jungkook, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke up, his voice carrying an edge of amusement. “What, scared to lose?”
You narrow your eyes in his direction. “Not at all.” 
“I think it’s a great idea!” Kenna chimes in. 
With that it was settled. The girls set up their lane while Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin wrapped up their current game. They were only a few frames away from finishing, which gave them just enough time to add your name to their board. The order was set: Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook, then you.
And then, of course, the so-called guys from Neuro arrived.
Jackson and Will.
You actually knew both of them; surgical residents, unbearably arrogant, and exactly as obnoxious as you remembered. It was wild how the guy running Neuro was one of the kindest people you’d ever met, yet his residents were straight-up meatheads. Lucky for you, they seemed preoccupied, locked in some ridiculous display of charm with Kenna and Jea.
You had found yourself sitting with Jungkook. Luckily because of the long day you had and the lack of wine your mind wasn’t drifting like it was last week. The only distracting detail about him was that he smelled good. His lip ring which was on full display tonight was also noted. 
Not ideal but right now you would take it over having to make nice with things 1 and 2. You had also gotten yourself a drink and some food so you could pretend to be preoccupied. Except it was extremely quiet sitting here. You and Jungkook made no eye contact or said anything. Meanwhile, Jimin and Taehyung were deep in discussion, strategizing on how to beat Jungkook. Spoiler, it wasn’t going well.
“I gave you the right ball.” You pointed out to Taehyung, watching him scowl at his fingers like they had personally betrayed him.
“Yeah, and it turns out the ball wasn’t the problem.” Jungkook mumbled, which got a small laugh out of the both of you.
Jungkook stepped up to bowl next, a sleek black ball in hand. He took his time lining up the shot before sending it straight down the lane. Effortless. The ball smacked into the pins with an echoing crash, sending them flying in a perfect strike. Everyone clapped, minus Jimin, Taehyung, and yourself, all three of you trying to stay stubbornly unimpressed. He got the first strike of the two games. 
“Oh we are so cooked...” Jimin moaned next to you. 
“He literally doesn’t get tired.” Taehyung with slight annoyance lacing his voice. Almost like a petulant child.
“Awe come on boys. Just one strike. Doesn’t mean he’ll win.” You try to cheer them up but they both still have looks of defeat. 
“Oh my sweet naive angel. Jungkook almost always wins.” Taehyung pats your arm, while the sound of ten pins falling fills the air again. “Stop showing off!” 
“It goes like this every single time.” Jimin slumps down into his chair.
Looking down Jungkook was strolling back with a cocky nonchalance. He was good at bowling, you already knew that. That familiar almost knee jerk annoyance tickled the back of your mind. 
“Well you know what they say, you are either good at bowling or good at sex.” You kick your feet but you make Taehyung almost choke on his drink. Jungkook stopped dead in his tracks at your words. You had a cocky smile and he had his tongue in cheek look. “I guess we know which one you’re good at.” 
 Taehyung had to cover his face with how hard he was going to laugh. Jimin is unaware of the history and why he thinks it’s so funny. 
“Oh so the smack talk already begins. Why don’t we see you bowl?” Jungkook sank back down into his chair. Challenge filling the air. 
You may be talking out of your ass, you knew how to bowl but not like you were amazing. “Alright.” 
“Go Y/N!” Layla cheered, with few other whoops here and there. 
You approached the lane, selecting your ball with an air of nonchalance. You readjusted your wrist, lined up, and let the ball roll down the lane.
Pins scattered in a loud, violent clatter.
Strike.
Jimin and Taehyung both stood with some unanticipated excitement at your sudden show of bowling prowess. Which honestly may have been luck. You’ll take it, turning back to everyone and taking a confident bow. Jungkook had that all very familiar look in his eye. One you could so easily pull out of him in any argument. 
“Big deal. One stike.” He taunts, “Can you replicate it?” 
“Never thought I would encourage this but beat his ass Y/N.” Taehyung pointed at Jungkook, while taunting. 
You shrug, your ball coming back up the alley just in time. “Let’s find out.” 
You take your ball, doing the same thing you did the first time. No stress and not even thinking about it. You roll your shoulders back and send the ball down the lane just like the first time. Again, it was not elegant, but it was just enough. Split the lame, ten pin down. Strike two.
“Let’s go!” Jimin cheered from behind you, the girls cheering you as well.
With a cool smile you spun on your heel and sauntered back to your seat. High fiving Jimin as you sat down. Taking a sip of your drink made the strike feel so much better. You didn’t look at Jungkook but you can see him out of the corner of your eye. He was flipping his lip ring from side to side. It hadn’t gone past you that it was on display tonight.
Jungkook’s annoyance was clear though, and that put you on cloud nine.
It really was game on. The next few frames continued with tense silence between the two of you as you both went point for point, neither one of you really able to pull ahead of the other. It was actually uncanny because it had maybe been two or three years since you last had gone bowling. You didn’t complain, some cosmic machine was on your side today and you would take Jungkook down with it.
It was around frame five, Jungkook bowled a nine but picked up the spare. You at this point had gotten yourself so ramped up you were no longer sitting. Neither was Jungkook, everyone else was mingling but the two of you were so wrapped up in this game. This fierce competition had made the night even more fun for everyone else.
“Alright champ. You got this. You can easily bowl a nine or a strike and pull ahead of this guy.” Jimin had both of his hands on your shoulders, patting them like you were a wrestling champ.
You actually got to chat with Jimin tonight and he was a cool guy, very determined to see you beat Jungkook. “Thanks coach.”
As Jungkook was coming back to the table your were going up to the lane, bumping shoulders. You thought, playful sportsman way. Jungkook just rolled his eyes, not entertaining you. He didn’t want to show it but he was having a good time. He barely ever had competition with Taehyung or Jimin so to have someone he was actually competing with was… refreshing. To say the least.
“Awe Jungkook, so quiet. Slipping up on your game?” Taehyung taunted and Jungkook just brushed him off.
“Say’s the one with a measly 26 points right now.” Jungkook raised a brow to him.
“Hey, I’m fully invested in Y/N now. I’ve given up on me.” Taehyung says looked to you but then looking back at Jungkook with a mischievous grin. “Maybe something you should be doing too.”
“Stop it with that!” Jungkook shoves his shoulder. Another cheer roaring from Jimin and you in the lane. You bowled a strike this round. Which means Jungkook will need one next round to keep up. Both you and Jimin jumping up and down holding each other’s hands out of excitement.
You were on a roll and after today you seriously needed it. Beating Jungkook will be a welcome celebration after this week.
You step off to the side so Taehyung can come up and take his turn but caught in a small traffic stop with Jackson.
“Oh sorry.” You try to step around him but he stops you. He moves right in toe with you.
“You’re really good.” He compliments. A bit of a flirtatious tone layer his words. “You bowl often?”
You shake your head trying to take another step away. “Not really. It’s rare that I ever bowl to be honest.”
“So what do you do? I mean outside of the hospital and such?” Jackson continues, trying to maintain your attention. Which you were unsure how you managed to get caught in his cross hairs.
“Aren’t you here with Kenna or Jea or something?” You decide to redirect to his original night plans, which you look to Jea who seems to be pretty wrapped up in whatever Will is talking about so that answers that question.
“Not really.” He shrugs acting like it’s so casual, which maybe it was you didn’t know. “You work with Dr. Kim, right?”
“Uh yes but it’s temporary.” You scratch the side of your head. Somehow you had backed all the way up that you had made it back to your seat. Not to your avail, the guys were up doing things. Unfortunately the sanctuary that was your table is now being interrupted.
You try to see if Layla is unoccupied but she is about to bowl herself so she is completely distracted. Something in the way this guy is talking to you feels so college. He’s trying any tactic to keep your attention, so much so he is now sitting next to you.
“He’s a nice guy. I’ve meant to learn from him but he seems to favor that one guy. Yoongi is it?”
“Uh yeah Dr. Min. He’s very talented.” You try to look for any excuse, “I think it’s your turn to bowl.” You point back to their lane.
“I’ll just have Will bowl for me.” He waves it off.
“Listen… uhh Jackson.” You started but before you would say something else.
“Y/N.” You hear your name called from the lane. Looking over you see Jungkook holding his ball. Waving you over once you acknowledge him. You are confused for a second but you use the opening to escape. Thank god.
You saunter over, ready for whatever trash talk Jungkook probably has in store for you. “What? Admitting I’m a better bowler than you? I mean it’s clear as day.”
“First of all, never,” Jungkook scoffed, pointing his ball at you before holding it between his hands. “Second, you looked like you needed an out.”
You tilt your head, “What?”
“Bonehead number 5.” He subtly points back to Jackson who was still at the table. Kenna seemed to find her way to him again now. He looked a little less interested in talking to her as she was talking to him.
“Oh…” You paused for a moment, he noticed that? “Uhh yeah thanks. I was a little trapped I guess.”
He hummed in acknowledgment. “No worries. Now, watch closely. You can witness my incredible bowling skills up close.”
“I’m alright. I've been watching your shitty technique all night.”
“Shitty?” Jungkook's eyes widened at the remark. “My technique is anything but shitty.”
“Oh come on, it's barely practical. You make it look all fancy and sweep your leg all far out behind you.” You mimic the motion, which is exactly as you said it. “You look stupid.”
“Oh really? Then what is this?” Jungkook mimicking your oh so nonchalant throws. You didn’t really have a lot of flair to it. Just a simple easy swing. “At least mine looks interesting.”
“And ridiculous. Simple is always better.” You shrug.
The truth was both ways were working. Your scores reflected it. Neither of you was doing better, you were tied. You both were doing something right. Which continued to be reflected when Jungkook bowled another 9. Good, could be worse. Some playful boo’s came from Jimin and Taehyung.
“Awe, only a nine? Must be tough having to follow up my strike.” You shake your head like you were disappointed or something.
“I see after last week we are dropping all the niceties .” Jungkook commented, testing the water.
“Hmm, I only have so much kindness I can expend for you at one time.” You mused, watching him line up for his spare attempt.
Jungkook didn’t say anything right away, just lined up his shot and sent the ball rolling down the lane. You both watched as it curved slightly before knocking down the last pin with a satisfying clatter. A spare. Not bad.
He was still keeping up. “Games still afoot. I’ll need to keep working harder to stay ahead.”
“Barely ahead.” He holds up a finger to confirm his point.
“Please you just don’t want to admit that I have been ahead this whole time. You’re just playing a sad game of catch up.” Thus the trash talking continues. 
“I’m just biding my time for when you slip up.” “Just move so I can maintain my lead.” You brush past him, Jungkook decides he’s going to stay right here as well. Having a feeling his proximity will maybe just make you nervous enough. 
You get a good grip on your ball, but you can tell Jungkook is hovering. Standing just off to the side next to you, like you did him. Probably trying to see if it will rattle your game. Nice try demon spawn.
“Don’t mess up.” He said it right as you were about to throw the ball but you stopped yourself, glaring at him before you totally botched that throw.
“Fuck off.” You lightly shove the ball into his stomach. Jungkook in turn pretends to be injured holding his stomach all dramatically.
You ignore him, repositioning yourself in front of the lane. Just as you go to throw you catch a quick glimpse in the corner of your eye, he was observing you very intently. That one moment of hesitation affected the ball just enough. Having it tilt slightly to the left when it reached the pins. Only dropping 6 pins.
Jungkook took two paces, standing just behind you.
“You missed.”
“I know.” You look over your shoulder at him, you were fuming.
“You hesitated.”
“You did that on purpose.”
“Everything is fair game on this court.” Jungkook raises his arms up in surrender. With his arms up you take the full opportunity to push him back away. It was playful, and almost made you want to crawl out of your skin.
Jungkook laughs at the action and backs down. Going to sit back at the table.
The game continued, this time there was more civil banter. Which made Taehyung all the more annoying and in Jungkook’s ear and texts the rest of the night saying things like. God get married already. Do we need to leave you two alone? Get a room. Which Jungkook promptly ignored every single one. Not letting Taehyung continue to encourage this fantasy that he’s concocted.
Jungkook was still having that same feeling in the pit of his stomach. You were enjoying each other’s company for the first time in forever that wasn’t upheld by extreme intoxication. It was just hanging out, like any other set of friends.
So weird.
You had all come to the final frame. Jimin and Taehyung basically just gutter bawled their last attempts because they really did not care by this point. Layla and Kenna were still here, but Jackson bailed at some point. Jea and Will left together as well.
“You know, for this being my first impression of you. You’re literally so cool.” Kenna stands next to you as you were just waiting for your turn.
“Thank you.” You nodded, “Although it is just bowling.”
“I can’t bowl for shit, and you got your friend all up in a twist about it.” She shrugs, then points to Jungkook. Layla also standing here leans into you. “There anything going on there?” Her curiosity peaked, did you two just give off a vibe or something?
“God no.” You shake your head. “Just known each other for a long time.”
“He’s cute. It's a shame to let that all go to waste.” She bumps you as if to say you should be making a move.
You brush them off. “Please, he's the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know. People who find each other annoying to spend the amount of energy you two do getting each other all riled up.” Kenna quipped.
Oh how you wish Melanie and Ash were here. They would be trash talking Jungkook with you, not calling him cute or whatever. 
Jungkook, for his final frame, had already thrown a strike. Then he followed up with a second one. They were quick. You get a third attempt with two strikes, but he only bowled a nine with that final throw. Then you stepped up, Taehyung and Jimin waiting in major anticipation.
“Finish him!” Jimin said in a gravely tone.
“You just need one strike and you have him.” Taehyung was basically bouncing out of his seat as you picked up your ball. Jungkook was already in the process of pulling off his bowling shoes, you were unsure if he was doing it because he was so confident he would win or he already has conceded.
Either way, you wanted to crush him.
You step right on up, rolling your shoulders. Then letting the ball glide from your hand down the alleyway. You knew the moment you let go though, it veered just slightly. Just enough. Then bam, strike.
“And that’s game.” You spin around, arms outstretched.
“You still have one more attempt, Make it hurt.” Jimin encouraged you.
You glanced down to the bowling balls that were left over. Deciding to finish it off using Jungkook’s. The black ball was way to heavy for you for sue but what a fitting end.
“I think I’ll finish it off with yours.” Holding the ball up in a taunting manner. As best you could because again, heavy.
Jungkook just watched in solemn defeat, as you barely threw his ball down the alley. Only hitting a few pins, but solidifying your win. Which got big cheers from Jimin and Taehyung and high fives all around. Jungkook’s winning streak has finally been broken by you. It had to sting and you hoped it did.
“Alright let’s get out of here.”
Pretty quickly you all cleared out. You were flying really fucking high now. What a way to end your week.
You said goodbye to Kenna and Layla who came together. You were fine heading home on your own and it was hardly late. But as you turned toward the door, you noticed that Jimin, Taehyung, and—surprisingly—Jungkook were still lingering behind.
Jimin slung an arm over your shoulder, voice laced with amusement. “Okay, so you officially have a standing invite now. As long as you keep beating him.” He jerked his thumb toward Jungkook, who was still a few steps behind, hands still deep in his pockets.
“Oh, I’ll use any excuse to make Jungkook look like a loser.” You teased, practically skipping with excitement.
Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not a loser.”
“Debatable.”
“Well,” Taehyung cut in, draping himself lazily over Jungkook’s shoulder, “I say, as a penalty for breaking his winning streak, Jungkook has to make sure our reigning champion gets home safe.”
Jungkook groaned loudly as Taehyung clapped him on the back, half-shoving him in your direction. “Come on, we never said there was a penalty.”
You smirked and kicked him lightly in the ankle, making him stumble slightly. “What a sore loser.”
“I’m not a sore loser.”
“Are too.”
“This is going to go on forever.” Jimin laughed, already backing away with Taehyung. “Have a good night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Jungkook huffed. “If I don’t make it home alive, you’ll know where to look.”
Jimin and Taehyung waved him off, entirely unsympathetic.
As their voices faded, silence settled between you and Jungkook. You pulled out your phone, feeling the energy of the moment start to dissipate. Feeling a little awkward in the silence.
“You don’t have to.” You said before he could speak.
Jungkook blinked. “Huh?”
“I can get an Uber.” You clarified, tapping through the app. “It’s fine.”
Jungkook frowned slightly, glancing around. The parking lot was mostly empty now, save for a few stragglers. “It’s like a five-minute drive.”
You shrugged. “You live in the opposite direction.”
“So?”
“So… I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
Jungkook let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not an inconvenience. It’s my penalty, remember?”
You hesitated, still watching your phone screen as it searched for a ride. Unfortunately, there weren’t many cars nearby, and the estimated wait time was creeping up by the second.
Jungkook caught sight of it, and before you could argue again, he tilted his head at you, voice dropping slightly. “You don’t have to be weird about it.”
That made you look up. Surprised by his proximity. “I’m not being weird and don’t stand so close.”
“You kind of are.” His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Unless you’re scared to be in a car with me?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You shove your phone back in your pocket, “Oh, please.”
“Then just get in the car.” His voice was softer now, but still firm. “It’s literally a five-minute drive.”
You held his stare, lips pressing together in thought. There was something about the way he said it—not teasing, not pushy, just... certain.
You conceid. “Fine. But if you are going to bitch and moan about losing the whole time i’m going to tuck and roll out of the car.”
Jungkook smirked, already heading toward his car. “Who says I won’t need too.” 
Jungkook was parked pretty close to the entrance. His car was nice, you wouldn’t be able to say what kind of car it was but it was clean. Sleek, looked expensive. Leather interior and everything. Sitting down though the scent of his cologne completely filled your senses. Oh this wasn’t good. It made your mind wander, and you had to rip it back to reality. 
Jungkook’s car was warm, the hum of the engine low and steady as he pulled out of the parking lot. You kept your gaze fixed on the window, watching the streetlights blur past, anything to keep your mind from acknowledging the way his cologne wrapped around you like a slow, suffocating trap.
Damn. Why did he have to smell so good?
Jungkook, to his credit, was quiet at first. He didn’t immediately start complaining about his loss, nor did he try to make conversation. It was almost... too quiet.
You risked a glance in his direction. His hands were steady on the wheel, his jaw tight, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. He looked—careful. Hesitant, even.
“You always drive this slow?” You teased, cutting through the uncomfortable silence.
Jungkook scoffed, eyes flicking toward you before returning to the road. “I’m driving like a normal person.”
“Feels like you’re trying to drag this out.” You mused, turning back to the window.
“You think too highly of yourself.” He shot back, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.
You just shook your head, but didn’t push it further. The drive continued in an almost comfortable silence, the soft hum of the radio filling the space between you. The longer you sat there, the more you became acutely aware of him—his presence, the warmth of the car, the occasional sound of him drumming his fingers lightly on the wheel.
Then, without warning—
“I should’ve won.” Jungkook muttered, as if he’d been holding it the whole time.
You turned to him with a dramatic groan. “Oh my god.”
“I’m serious!” He continued, as if you hadn’t reacted. “You got lucky. That wasn’t skill.”
“It was absolutely skill.”
“It was a fluke.”
“A win is a win.”
Jungkook let out a scoff, shaking his head. “You got, like, three pins.”
“Three pins is enough to win.”
“You were aiming for the gutter.”
“I was not!” You reach over hitting him in the arm which doesn’t seem to elicit any reaction.
Jungkook gave you a side-eye so sharp you almost burst out laughing. “Next time, we’re doing best out of three.” He said, tone final.
“Next time?” You raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly toward him. “So you’re assuming I’ll go bowling with you again?”
Jungkook’s grip on the wheel tightened for just a second. He hesitated, but only for a beat before recovering. “You’d love the chance to beat me twice.” he shrugged. “Admit it.”
You pursed your lips, pretending to consider. “Maybe.”
Another moment of silence stretched between you. You shifted slightly in your seat, playing with the hem of your sleeve. Something about the atmosphere had changed. It wasn’t just playful now, it was charged. The kind of tension that settled heavy in the air, making it harder to breathe, making your thoughts stray to places you weren’t sure they should go.
And yet, Jungkook couldn’t help himself. “Your technique is still trash, though. Who taught you to bowl? Your grandma?”
You turned to him, brows knitting together. “What? You’re not serious.”
Jungkook glanced at you, confused by your sudden shift in tone. “What?”
“You don’t remember?”
His frown deepened. “Remember what?”
“You taught me.”
Jungkook blinked. “When?”
“In college.” You studied his face, waiting for recognition to hit. When it didn’t, you sighed. “We were working on that project together. It was after I told you about everything with David. We were both drained that week, and you suggested we go bowling to take our minds off things. I told you I sucked, and you spent the whole night showing me how to throw the ball properly.”
Jungkook went still, the memory slowly threading its way back into his mind. A pause, then—
“Oh my god,” he muttered, realization dawning. “I did.”
You laughed softly at his delayed reaction. “Yeah. You did.”
He let out a short breath, shaking his head as he fully processed it. “Damn. I really created my own downfall, huh?”
You smirked, settling back against the seat. “Who knew your own teachings would come back to bite you?”
Jungkook shot you a side glance, lips twitching. “That’s the last time I will ever help you.”
“Time to tuck and roll.” You fake the motion to open the door, not actually intending to open the door for real. Your sudden motion makes Jungkook reach for your arm. His fingers catching around the top of your arm. 
“You’re insufferable.” Jungkook’s hand lingered for a moment too long before letting you go. You adjusted back in your seat. Your hands resting in your lap. 
Silence hung between the two of you again, not uncomfortable. Quiet and charged. Your eyes scanned the dashboard. Look at the navigation in the middle. Scanning over everything, the first mistake being when your eyes accidentally caught their attention on his hands. A relaxed grip on the wheel. 
Get your eyes off his hands.
The small voice in the back of your mind was almost screaming and you complied and pulled your eyes away. You had done a pretty good job tonight at not letting your mind drift in that direction but the silence was not helping. 
Jungkook out of the corner of his eye could see you shift in your seat. He couldn’t place if you were comfortable or not. Probably not, just because. Well it was him. Your hand came up scratching the back of your neck but it had inadvertently moved some of your hair away. It immediately made Jungkook’s mind return to last weekend. You were innocently helping him stretch out his neck, nothing intimate about it but his mind went back there. 
It was about your hands being on him.
Because unfortunately he knew what that felt like now. It was imprinted in his mind. He stopped himself dead in the tracks. Not just because if it went any further he was going to have a serious problem, but because it wasn’t right. 
Yeah you guys slept together so what. Water under the bridge. 
You shifted again, and it caught his attention again. What was happening? Why was he suddenly so focussed every time you moved? He needed to think of anything else, work or animals or something.
He rested one of his hands on the shifter in the center. It caught your attention. His hand rested too casually and too close. Keep your eyes locked out the window. Watch the pretty lights and stop thinking about his hands. You were not that desperate. Remember he’s Jungkook, gross disgusting, we hate that guy. 
You were saved by the bell though because you recognized the street as yours. You would be home in no time and go take a very very cold shower or something. Within a moment Jungkook, stopped at what he recognized to be your building. Vaguely remembering it from when he walked you that one time. 
With zero hesitation you were basically leaping to get out of the car. “Well have a good night, loser.” You say before closing the door before Jungkook could get a word in, his face was priceless though because there was annoyance all over it. Walking as quickly as you could to get into your building. 
Jungkook drove home. Playing music as loud as he could to drown out any thoughts that could enter his mind. Wanted or not.
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