#imagine what he could do if he was there longer

[so-i-did-this-thing]

I have been feeling increasingly gaslit by how many words my spellchecker/autocomplete seems to no longer recognize. Even when I manage to spell the word correctly, it's as if it doesn't exist. All very strange - I've had to check the dictionary again as if it's 1999. But, no, the words are there!

I'm guessing AI nonsense has crept into spellcheck. Need to start a list of the words it believes are figments of my imagination. "Capitulated" was one earlier.

I'm a man with a bad short-term memory + a speech impediment where I often say the wrong word without realizing it, and having to triple check what I write to scan for hallucinations is doing a number on my brain. Text *used* to be where I could achieve communication fluency easily.

Just... entire swathes of vocabulary, no longer recognized! It's infuriating as someone who gets flustered by imprecise language, and now doubly so when his technology implies the words he's depended on are not real!

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 3)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: fluff, smut this is the last part so I hope you enjoy it!!

part 2

It would be an understatement to say that Charles was over the moon when you and Louise showed up in the paddock on the race day. He was so delighted and happy that he had a hard time hiding it, and everyone present could see it.

He didn't separate from Lou, and he thanked you several times for bringing her and for coming with her telling you how much that meant to him.

Of course, you both attracted the attention of all the media, knowing that tomorrow the main news on the internet will be how Charles' ex-girlfriend appeared with his daughter in the paddock for the first time after a full year since the breakup.

The cameras were everywhere, but having learned from previous experiences, you decided to ignore them and pretend they didn't exist. All you were focused on was giving your daughter an unforgettable weekend and supporting Charles as well.

Lou got hungry so you and Charles decided to get her something to eat at the Ferrari hospitality. Lou didn't know what she wanted to eat, so Charles decided to leave his things at your table, including his phone, and said he would go with her to the restaurant to choose. While Lou went with Charles, you sat down at the table and scrolled through your phone waiting for them to come back.

“Am I seeing things or is it really y/n?” A very familiar voice asked you, making you look up from your phone.

“Carlos!” You smiled from ear to ear as you stand up to hug him.

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen you in the paddock. How come you’re here?” He asks curiously.

“Lou had a hard time accepting that she wouldn't be spending this weekend with her dad, so...yeah, here we are.”

“Oh man, he’s gonna beat my ass on the track today..” Carlos says shaking his head.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little unsure of what he’s talking about.

“He always gives 110% on the track when Lou is there to support him, I can only imagine what it’ll be like today when you are there too.”

The two of you started catching up talking about what was new in your lives, what wasn't, and so on, until Carlos commented on Charles and Lou's relationship, saying that he really loves spending time with her and that he talks about her nonstop.

“She loves spending time with him too, he is her soulmate I’m sure.” You commented.

“And what about you? Is he your soulmate too?” Carlos asked catching you off guard.

Both you and Charles were close to Carlos and he pretty much knew everything about you and your relationship. He was also very angry with you when you broke up because he thought it was a bad decision and that you should have worked on your relationship and not give up on it so easily.

“I-I..” As you were trying to think of an answer to his question, at that very moment the screen of Charles's phone, which he had left on the table in front of you, lit up.

What caught your attention wasn't the notification he received, but your eyes got stuck on the wallpaper on his lock screen. It was a picture of you and Lou that Charles had taken shortly after you had given birth and came home from the hospital. You were lying on the bed and Lou was lying on your chest while you kissed her head.

It was a picture that was very dear to both you and Charles, and he had it as his wallpaper since the day he took it, and what surprised you the most was that he still had it to this day. Even though you were no longer together, he never changed it.

Carlos noticed what you were staring at and he basically took it as an answer to his question although he had already knew it.

“Uncle Carloss!!” Lou screamed with her mouth full of pizza as Charles carried her in his arms over to the table where Carlos and you were sitting.

“Hola, hermosa! Did you get hungry?” Carlos chuckled squeezing her cheek.

“Out of all the possible foods you can think of, my baby chose pizza.” Charles laughed sitting her down on the chair next to you.

You were completely lost in your thoughts and didn't even pay attention what the three of them were talking about. All you could think about was the picture you saw on Charles's phone and how you were getting closer to confessing your still deeply held feelings for him.

And of course today was just as Carlos said it would be. Not only did Charles beat Carlos’ ass on the track, but he also beat all the other drivers by proudly and deservedly taking P1. He couldn't let the win slip through his fingers in front of the two most important people in his life so he fought extra hard for it today.

When it was time to celebrate, your eyes filled with tears at how proud you were of him. First he celebrated with the team, then his eyes searched for you and Lou.

“You wanna congratulate daddy, baby?” You asked her and she nodded excitedly.

You pushed your way towards Charles with her in your arms and when you reached him he instantly hugged her and kissed her on the forehead.

“Good job, daddy!” She said.

“Thank you, baby. This one was for you.” He told her kissing her once again.

“Congratulations, Charles. We’re really proud of you.” You say softly smiling at him tears threatening to run down your cheeks.

“Thank you, y/n. Thank you for being here.” He said looking deep into your eyes.

The cameras went crazy over your family moment, closely capturing every interaction between you. It won't be until the next day when you see one of the taken photos of the two of you that it will become completely clear to you how your eyes are betraying you and showing how deeply and obviously in love you are with each other.

When the day was coming to an end, you didn't stay in the paddock any longer, but immediately got on the plane and flew to Monaco, all three of you together. Lou was completely exhausted and when you landed she was already asleep. Charles didn't offer but instead insisted on driving you to your apartment no matter how tired he was.

Charles, carefully so as not to wake her, carried her in his arms into her room and put her to bed. He kissed her goodnight before closing the door and going into the living room thinking he would say goodnight to you too.

“She’s sleeping like a log.” Charles chuckles quietly as he stands in front of you.

“Poor thing, she was so tired. She passed out as soon as we sat in the plane.”

“But I'm glad you came. Both of you. It really meant a lot to me to have you there.”

“I’m glad too. We had a lot of fun. Maybe we can come again sometime.” You say making him smile.

“Anytime you want” He says feeling that the conversation is slowly coming to an end. He wants to continue it so bad, but he knows that both of you are tired and with a heavy heart he has to leave, even though he would rather lie in bed with you now and hold you close to him all night.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now. It’s getting really late.” He says running his hand nervously through his hair while you bite the inside of your cheek so desperately wanting him to ask you if he can stay. “See you soon, yeah? Good night”

Before he turns around to head for the door, you decide that enough is enough. There have been so many obvious signs by now that it's not over between you and that you're still madly in love with each other that you don't want to waste another second being stubborn, but rather surrender to the moment and finally enjoy it.

“Or you can stay the night here..you know..i-if you want to” You blurt out stuttering the last part.

He turns slowly towards you. His expression is unreadable until he places his hands on your cheeks and asks you “Do you want me to stay?”

Without much hesitation, you nod your head and quietly say “I do.”

Initially, it was as if you were afraid to approach each other, as if you were afraid of each other's reaction even though both of you were hoping that the desire was mutual. Then his lips slowly and cautiously began coming closer and closer to yours.

At first, your lips just brushed, pulling back a little, and then they connected into a long, passionate and deep kiss that you both had been eagerly waiting for.

You felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you let out deep breaths in relief you didn't even know you were holding in.

Things were moving quickly and you didn't waste any time getting to your bedroom. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he picked you up and without breaking the kiss, carried you into the room and laid you down on the bed.

Exhaustion was long forgotten when you took each other's clothes off and started kissing every part of each other’s body.

“I missed you, I missed you so much you don’t even know” He said into the kiss, barely catching his breath from the intense excitement he felt.

“I missed you too, Charles” You half whisper as he pushes into you and one tear rolls down the side of your face.

It felt so good. He felt so good inside you, fit so perfectly like he was made for you. He wanted to make love to you, to show you how much he cares about you so he kept going on and on making your legs shake so many times throughout the night, kissing every inch of your body, pulling you closer to him to calm you down, breathing in your scent and getting lost in your eyes.

“I’m gonna cum, baby” His voice trembled as he rested his forehead against yours and pulled his cock out of you cumming all over your stomach, hands free, then pushing himself back in and wincing.

You fell asleep with him holding you close all night. His arms were hugging you so tightly, as if he was afraid that if he let go even just for a second, he would wake up and it would all be just a dream.

The morning sun's rays didn't let you sleep past eight, so you spontaneously woke up together still in the same position you fell asleep in.

“Good morning ma cherie” He said with a kiss to your lips.

“Morning baby” You smiled caressing his cheek with your thumb. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm, very well” He murmurs against your skin. “And you?”

“Me too. I haven't slept this peacefully in a long time.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yeah” You glance at the clock out of the corner of your eye and see that it's almost time for Lou to wake up. “Oh shit, Charles you need to leave, Lou is about to wake up” You say nervously, which completely confuses Charles.

“What? What do you mean I need to leave? Why can’t she know that I’m here?”

“It's not that she can’t know it’s just that I want us to take it slow this time. I'm afraid of screwing this up because it feels so good and so right and I don't know if I could handle us hurting each other again.” You sigh as you explain your reasons to him. “And most of all, I don't want to break Lou's heart.”

He pauses for a moment to think about what you just said and realizes that it makes sense and that you're right. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry we’ll take things slow to make it right this time.” After all, he just wants to fulfill all your wishes and wants to make you happy with whatever you want. “So when do I get to see you again?” He asks and you laugh at his silly question. “What?” He asks confused.

“It's funny that you ask me that. You can see us whenever you want. It's just for a short time until we see how things develop and then of course we'll live together again.”

“I can’t wait for that.”

Soon he got out of the bed and got dressed. He kissed you barely breaking away from you before heading out of the bedroom. The door to Lou's room was open and so he walked slowly on his tiptoes, not wanting to wake her up.

But he realized that was in vain when, passing by her room, he heard “Daddy?!” He stopped in his tracks, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing quietly under his breath.

She’d already seen him and he couldn't leave now or get out of the situation in any way, so he decided to go into her room and say good morning to her.

“Hey, baby. Good morning”

“What are you doing here?! Did you sleep here?!” She didn't know what to ask him first from how happy she was that it was morning and he was there.

When the two of them appeared at your bedroom door, it was clear to both you and Charles that from that moment on, you were all living together again.

“Hi there” Charles said holding her in his arms and looking at you.

You didn't say anything, you just covered your face with your hands and started laughing before you uncovered the quilt and said "come here, both of you"

@charlesgirl16 @aleatorio1234 @teamnovalak @watermelonslut @diaryofarandomkid @sunny44 @tempo-rary-fix @ggaslyp1 @janeh22 @seonghwaexile @seasonswinter @itgirlofthecenturysposts @ricciardosredbull @amz824 @sarx164 @seonghwaexile @landossainz @little-miss-naill @taygrls @sturmatt @myescapefromthislife @stylesmoonlight12 @st4rgirl-ellie @eloriis @sillyfreakfanparty @rebelliousneferut @kahhorri @hard4ndsoft @weekendlusting

[fallenclan]

Pls ramble about Maplestar i didn't think much of him at all when he was around

:3

okay so imagine. You are born into Fallenclan as a fresh little kitten. You are told at a very young age that your mom isn't around anymore, but your dad loves you and your two siblings more than anything, and he will do everything in his power to make sure you all are happy and successful. Your siblings are louder than you, more outgoing than you, and arguably more likeable than you, but they look to you as the cat to follow when your dad isnt around, so it's your job to look after them. You're the oldest, after all.

Later into your kithood you are told that your mother died giving birth to the three of you. If you didnt exist, she would still be alive.

You become an apprentice. Your sister is mentored by the cool older cat that is also your friend's mom. Your brother is mentored by one of your dad's best friends, a cat you've known since birth. You are apprenticed to the deputy of Fallenclan--she cares about you, and the clan, but she's also strict, and tells you in no uncertain terms that she expects you to be great. Not good. Great. You think, "If I am not great, is it my fault?" You try your best. You wonder if it is enough.

You become a warrior. Your sister takes on a mate, your brother does, too. Both of them have kits. You never were interested in having a mate, but you can't help but wonder if that's what your clan, your father, wants you to do. Your father, in the meanwhile, takes over the job that your mentor had, and becomes deputy of Fallenclan. Then he becomes leader. He becomes legend. Cats at gatherings say to you, "You must be so proud!" You are. When your back is turned, they say "The son of Goldenstar, he'll be something special, I'm sure."

The deputy, a cat known for her strength, loyalty, and honor, retires, and chooses you out of everyone to take her place. Your father assures you that you'll do great. Your siblings cheer you on and offer their support. You refuse it, politely. You will be a great deputy if you have to pull out all of your fur to do it--and you will do it by yourself. Are you really great if some of your greatness is borrowed? The whole clan depends on you.

Under the cover of night, the clan is attacked. The former deputy dies. One of your best friends dies. Your brother dies. Four kits, six warriors, and one elder die. You are hardly wounded. For moons you keep the night guard and torture yourself thinking about what you could have done to change things. What you could have done better.

Time passes. You age, your sister ages, your father ages. As leader, he has nine lives, but they slowly dwindle. One evening, he's missing from camp longer than he said he would be, and you and your sister go looking for him. You find his body at the bottom of a cliff. You grieve until sundown, and then you travel to receive your nine lives. You see the faces of all the cats you outlived. All the cats you failed. Your niece and great-nephew, your brother, your mentor, your father, your mother. You wake up and it is only you and your medicine cat huddled together in a cave. Your skin hurts, you can feel each fur on your body. You walk home.

You discover that your former apprentice is a murderer. With no other options, you exile him from the clan and watch as he is escorted away. If you had been a better mentor, would he have lived a kinder life? Would he have forgiven his long-time enemy? You'll never find out.

A neighboring clan, which has had it out for Fallenclan since your father was an apprentice, declares war. You run yourself ragged making plans and trying to keep your warriors safe and alive. There are battles, there are scars, but there are no deaths, and the war ends only a few moons later. You congratulate yourself for this feat, and then wonder why it was only when you became leader that war was declared.

Every death that passes, you wonder if you could have prevented it. Every loss that your sister suffers, your nephews and nieces suffer, you contemplate how to fix. You are old now, and there are few Fallenclan cats that knew you before you were an apprentice, before you were a warrior, before you were deputy or leader. You're not a cat, anymore, you are a shelter; protecting your clan and paying little mind to your own needs.

You take a hunting patrol by yourself, late one night. In a dry riverbed, you feel the ground rumble, and look upstream to see a flash flood clawing its way towards you.

You wonder, "Am I fast enough to outrun it?"

You aren't.

[hhughes]

wait imagining cuddling on quinn’s lap on a rainy day and you’re just so cozy in warm clothes

ᡴꪫ ࣪ ݂ oh to be cuddled up with quinn hughes on a rainy day is everyone’s dream I fear. mentions of quinn’s beard in this cause i’m obsessed🤧

you awoke to the soft patter of rain drops on the bed room window, the spot next to you empty but with a lingering warmth that told you quinn hasn’t been up long.

you enjoy the feel of your warm little cocoon a while longer before deciding to get up, grabbing one of your boyfriend’s hoodies and tugging it over your head as you shuffle out of the bedroom and into the living room where you knew quinn was sitting on one of the couches.

and that’s exactly where you found him, grey sweats and a white tshirt, hair slightly ruffled from sleep and a few weeks worth of scruff on his face. he takes a slow sip of his coffee, sending you a fond smile when he notices your presence.

“mornin baby” he says, lifting his arm that wasn’t holding the cup, beckoning you towards him and he pulls you into his lap as soon as you’re close enough.

“you want a sip?” he asks, holding his coffee out to you and you shake your head.

“no? want me to make you something else?” he asks, thumb softly tracing patterns on your skin beneath the hoodie you’re wearing, and you shake your head again.

“okay,” he says, pulling you in closer and kissing your temple.

“can we just have a cuddle day today. it’s the perfect weather for it,” you ask, glancing outside where the rain pour was only intensifying.

“whatever you want sweetheart. think i’m gonna make soup later, mom’s recipe,” he says and laughs slightly when you perk up excitedly. he knew how much you loved ellen’s soup recipe’s and god knows the woman had a different one for each occasion.

“you warm enough?” he asks when he notices a shiver racking your body. “I can turn up the heat,” he says and moves to get up but your hand on his chest stops him.

“it’s not the cold that’s making me shiver quinn,” you explain and it takes him a moment but eventually he realizes what you mean, his hands tightening around your waist.

“oh,” he says, smirking when you shiver again as he runs his hand up and down your bare spine.

you use his moment of brief distraction to wiggle your cold toes under his leg and he hisses as he feels the cold even through his pants

“jesus woman. you have toes or icicles on those feet,” quinn jokes, smiling as you giggle into his chest

“you love me and my icicles” you retort and laugh more as his beard scratches against your neck as he playfully nips at the skin

“yeah, I do” he says affectionately, pressing another kiss to your head as you both watch the rain fall down for another few minutes as both of you wake up fully.

rainy days were your favourite as long as you could spend them with quinn.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

By The Pool

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???

wc: 2.5k

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, pinch of degradation, reader is called 'slut' once, cum tasting, creampie

a/n: since i found out he has a lifeguard license on skz code i needed to write this🫠

masterlist

You thought it was going to be another boring month at the resort.

It was a place you knew very well ever since you were a child, your parents always took you there, every summer was the same.

Even now, when you were a student and no longer living with them, you couldn't escape the three weeks they wanted to spend there with you and your brother as a family.

But, there was nothing boring about the eye candy you noticed by the pool.

Every year, there was a new lifeguard on duty and though they were all fit men and women, no one captured your attention like he did.

There was something about him and you made it your mission to seduce him, wanting to have some fun and spice up your summer.

Quickly, you asked around since you knew the staff well, finding out his name is Hyunjin, he's your age and here on a student job, and most importantly single (though you have no idea how no one has snatched him up yet).

You came to the pool every day, happy that you bought some cute swimsuits that revealed more than they covered.

You made sure to be right in his view as you put on sunscreen, slowly spreading the thick liquid all over your body.

You saw him staring and gulping, before averting his eyes and acting unaffected but the tips of his ears matched the red color of his swim trunks.

Of course, you amped it all up with bending over as you spread your towel over the deck chair, showing Hyunjin your cleavage.

Giggling to yourself when you saw his eyes twitch as he adjusted in his lifeguard chair, you lay down with your sunglasses on so you can feast your eyes on him the whole time.

Hyunjin did his duty well and you watched him like a hawk, any time he had to jump in, he would toss his shirt off and you loved to admire his muscles.

He was made to be in water, looked so natural as he swam and he did his job perfectly, making it obvious why he was hired.

By the fifth day, you got fed up with exchanging looks and nothing else so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

If he wasn't gonna approach you, you were gonna do it yourself.

It was a nice sunny Friday, not that you really cared what day it was since you were on vacation, the day was only important because you planned on having Hyunjin all to yourself today.

As per usual, you watched him work and he stole glances at you as much as he could.

After some kid was making a mess in the water and Hyunjin had to jump in to stop them, you watched his wet body, the clear droplets of water running down his back and shoulders as his muscles flexed.

The summer heat was nothing compared to the heat erupting inside you.

You waited patiently for another hour before his shift ended.

The other lifeguard then came to take his shift and you saw him and Hyunjin talking, which was your cue to stand up and run to the pool house where lifeguards usually leave their things and change.

You made sure no one was there and waited for Hyunjin to make his way to you.

You heard footsteps and with bathed breath you hid behind the wall like some stalker and almost laughed at yourself for doing so much for just some dick.

But it wasn't any dick.

You've never wanted anyone as much as you wanted Hyunjin.

Ever since you set your eyes on him, you couldn't stop fantasizing about him, every night when you touched yourself you imagined different scenarios and they all included Hyunjin.

You peeked and saw him get in and then you waited a few moments before knocking on the door and coming in just as he called out.

He probably thought it was one of the staff members, judging by the shocked look on his face when he turned around and saw you.

You giggled, as he gave you the elevator eyes, you were wearing your skimpiest bathing suit yet.

He quickly looked up as you cleared your throat, struggling not to look down at your breasts again.

"D-did you need something?" he stutters, clutching the towel in his hand.

Oh he is simply adorable, you just wanna devour him whole.

"Yes, you." you answer without even blinking and his face becomes red.

"Excuse me?" he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing up and down deliciously.

You chuckle and make your way towards him slowly and he takes one step back, colliding with the table behind him.

He quickly looks back at it, and you find the way he put his hair up in a little ponytail so endearing.

"I think you're hot." you state, standing in front of him now and his lips open and close a few times before he laughs awkwardly.

"Thanks. I- um think you're hot too." he says rather shyly, driving you even more crazy to taste him.

Your hand lands on his arm and you squeeze a little, before slowly dragging it up and down.

"Then, there's nothing else to discuss, is there?" you smirk and lean in, so close to his lips that you feel the shaky breath he lets out on your face.

"I- I- someone could walk in." he whispers and you chuckle.

"I don't care." you're quick to cup his face and crash your lips into his.

A surprised exclaim from Hyunjin gets muffled as you start kissing him and his eyes go from wide to fluttering closed as he returns your kiss eagerly.

Yes, he saw you by the pool every day and he knew what you were doing.

He wanted you just the same as you wanted him but he enjoyed watching you struggle and try hard to get his attention even though you already had it.

He smirked to himself as your bathing attire became more revealing every day and he knew you were slowly losing patience.

Hyunjin wanted you to hunt him down and now that you were here, he decided to reciprocate and show you how much he's been wanting you too.

As the kiss deepens, Hyunjin's tongue swiping over yours and tasting you, his hands slide to your waist and he squeezes before gripping you and swiftly moving the two of you until you were pressed into the wall.

You gasp as he leans back to look at you, a sly smirk on his face.

"You were tempting me on purpose, weren't you princess?" he said in a sultry voice, his hand caressing your cheek, fingertips sliding down to your neck to touch your sensitive spot.

"Was I that obvious?" you tease, letting your hands finally roam free on his hot shoulders, arms and chest.

"Mhm. Waving those tits in my face constantly. Wiggling your ass. What if some poor soul drowned because of your distractions, hm?"

"That wouldn't happen, you're too good at your job." you smirk and he chuckles.

"Sweet talking me won't get you out of this. You're gonna get exactly what you wanted, princess." Hyunjin smirks.

Before you could even realize what's happening, he grabs the strings of your bottoms and swiftly undoes them, letting it fall down and reveal your wet cunt to him.

You gasp, your heart beating hard in your chest in thrill as he hoists your leg up and you hook it around him.

"Is this what you imagined, hm?" he asks with the same smirk as he runs his fingertips on your wet folds, pressing them into your clit every time he comes up.

"Y-yes." you moan, chasing his touch as you rub against his hand and he chuckles, his other hand gripping your breast harshly.

You slide your hands back and undo the strings on the top part of your bikini and Hyunjin helps you with the strings around your neck, the item falling down on the floor as you keep staring into his eyes.

Hyunjin hovers over you, leaning in to kiss you passionately, his lips are so soft but desperate against yours, his tongue is wild like he is trying to remember the way you taste forever as his teeth nip into your bottom lip.

You moan when he starts pinching your nipples and playing with your tits, his fingers pressed into your sensitive clit, massaging it in circles.

You're going crazy as his lips lower to kiss your neck and you can't help grinding against his hand, your wetness spreading all over his fingers as Hyunjin bites into your skin, squeezing and fondling your breast.

"You want my fingers, princess?" he says into your neck before licking a stripe over the bite mark he left on your flesh.

"Yes." you whimper, gripping at his arm.

"Beg." he leans back to look at you and you want to slap him but you know you're too far gone to be snappy.

"Please, fuck me with your fingers." you bat your eyelashes at him and he smirks again, pushing his fingers into you immediately.

"Ah!" you moan as you take him in easily and he lets out a low chuckle.

"You're such a desperate slut. Letting some stranger finger you in a pool house." he laughs, fucking you semi-fast immediately and you moan loudly, meeting his thrusts and not giving a single fuck about someone hearing you.

"So good that you can't even speak?" he fucks into your sweet spot, his thumb pressing into your clit as he presses you against the cold wall, a contrast to your heated body.

"H-Hyunjin." you moan and he chuckles, of course you know his name.

"Say my name louder." he looks at you with a cocky smile and you stutter for a moment as he fucks you harder and faster.

Your legs shake and you hold onto him as he keeps scissoring you open for him, nothing coming out of your lips except his name.

"Cum on my fingers, princess." Hyunjin whispers in your ear as your nails dig into his shoulders, your whole body shaking against him as he keeps plunging into you, the squelching sounds of your arousal filling up the room.

"Ah! Hyunjin!" you whimper loudly as you squirt all over his hand, grinding against him to ride your high as he observes you.

"Taste." he pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty as he brings them to your trembling lips.

You wrap them around his digits instantly, sucking on them and licking them clean as he keeps eye contact.

As soon as he pulls his fingers out, his lips are on yours again, kissing you hungrily as he grabs your other leg, effectively lifting you up and making you squeal as he leads you to the couch.

You're thrown down on it, albeit gently before he quickly takes his swim trunks off and your mouth waters at the sight of his dick.

He is perfect everywhere, you think as your eyes roam all over his sexy body.

Hyunjin is quick to kneel between your legs with a smirk playing on his lips.

"I don't have any condoms." he chuckles at the reality of the situation.

Even though he knew you were trying to seduce him every day, it's not like he thought you were actually going to come in after him today and kiss him so he wasn't prepared.

"I'm clean. Please." you whine, your legs wrapping around him and bringing him closer.

Hyunjin chuckles again, he can't believe you are so desperate to have him.

"Okay, princess. You think you can take it?" he gives you another smirk, sliding the head of his hard cock on your soaked folds.

You whimper as you look at his length and nod quickly.

"Yes, I can take it." you're almost breathless and Hyunjin pushes in, making you moan at the feeling.

His fingers couldn't prepare you completely for his cock but the stretch is delicious and your pussy welcomes him eagerly.

"Shit, you feel so good!" Hyunjin whines as he bottoms out, pushing his entire length inside you and filling you up perfectly.

He leans down as his arms cage you, kissing you sloppily before he leans back and starts fucking you at a steady pace, making your orgasm build up already.

You gasp and moan, spreading your legs more as you take him, the sound of skin slapping against skin making you feel even hotter.

You've never been this wet, your pussy pulsating in arousal as you moan loudly, your body shaking and feeling like you're going to explode any second.

Hyunjin looks down at you darkly, low moans escaping his lips as he keeps trying to bury himself deeper inside your warmth, so close to losing control over himself as your pussy constantly clenches around him, gripping his hard cock.

Hyunjin grabs your breast and your thigh, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder as you whine loudly, the new angle making you feel like he's fucking his cock even deeper inside you and his eyes roll back as he fucks into you harder.

You're so loud that if someone passes by they can 100% hear you moan Hyunjin's name as you grab his ponytail and pull on it while you cum all around his throbbing cock.

"Fuck!" Hyunjin almost growls as his hips stutter, fucking you with even more fervor as he chases his high, his hand leaving bruises in the soft skin of your thigh.

"Gonna cum." he whines, wanting to pull out but you grip at him.

"Cum inside me, I want it so bad." you groan, your eyes filling up with tears of pleasure as the head of his cock keeps brushing against your cervix.

"Fuck, you're so dirty, princess." Hyunjin pants, the sight of him all sweaty and flushed above you takes you over the edge and you cum again, clenching hard around him, his name slipping off your lips once again.

His eyes widen as his cock twitches and he unexpectedly cums hard inside you, spurts of the hot liquid painting your insides and filling you up.

Hyunjin collapses on top of you as he feels you still clenching around his now soft member.

It's quiet for some time and just then you realize that you can hear all the sounds from the pool and some people walking and talking next to the pool house, making you realize that everyone probably heard you fucking.

Hyunjin lifts up to look at you and something tugs at your heart, making your stomach fill up with butterflies.

"What's your name?" he asks and you burst out laughing, realizing you never even introduced yourself properly.

"Y/n." you answer and he smiles.

"Y/n. Pretty name for a pretty girl." Hyunjin leans in to kiss you, his cock slipping out of you and you feel the trickle of his cum seeping out of your pussy.

"Are you free tonight?" he asks, his lips traveling on your cheeks, you jaw and your neck, making you shiver as you caress his upper back.

"Depends what you're offering." you smirk and he looks at you.

"Dinner, movies, a walk on the beach?" he asks and you giggle.

"With a happy ending, of course." you say.

"As many happy endings as you want, princess." Hyunjin chuckles.

"Then I'm free." you say and he smiles before kissing you again.

This is going to be a fun summer.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun

[runariya]

Touch the Sky (m.)

summary: You turn Jungkook’s military life upside down, and his heart along with it. pairing: idol!Jungkook x f!reader genre: idolverse, military-verse, S2L, fluff, smut rating: 18+, MDNI! warnings: allusion to minor assault, foul language, getting tasered (third party), fluff, JK's smitten, fluff, catcalling, protective JK, vomiting, aaaaaand fluff, explicit sexual content, oral (f. + m. receiving), protected sex, multiple f.orgasms, multiple (2) positions, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 9.6k

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

It’s getting annoying.

Annoying to the point where Jungkook can’t focus on his workout routine properly, and he reckons his comrades feel the same. They’ve felt it since the day you arrived, silently sitting in the corner of the gym every day, watching, assessing, scribbling on your tablet, keeping a straight face no matter what.

He’d seen it coming, though. One day, as usual, you entered the gym five minutes on the dot after training started, bowing to no one in particular but everyone at once. Your gaze bored literal holes into everyone present, like always, and it was only a matter of time before someone snapped. 

Bong was the first, and last, not a week ago, when he saw red. He stormed straight over to you, cornered you, and demanded to know what the hell you wanted and who you were. Jungkook had half a mind to intervene, to de-escalate the situation because, well, frankly, you were, are, just a tiny, petite woman, probably just doing your job. And Bong? Bong was, is, 250lbs of pure muscle and testosterone.

But Jungkook hadn’t even had time to make the decision to walk over before you, without batting an eyelash, tasered poor Bong to the ground and resumed your notes right after, as if nothing had even happened.

But still, after a whole week has passed since then, it’s still annoying. You’re still annoying.

“Chill out, Jaykay.” Jimin, who’s letting his hands hover over the bench press in case Jungkook can’t keep the weight lifted any longer, though that would never happen, grins down at him.

“I am chill.”

Well, maybe he’s not. Not when he’s clenching his jaw so hard he reckons his teeth are seconds away from shattering, though not because of the weight, that’s for sure.

“Ignore her.”

“Who?”

And while Jungkook knows exactly who Jimin’s talking about, and also knows that, yes, he’s definitely aggravated by your stares at this point, he can’t do shit about it. He needs to remind himself that you’re just a woman. Clearly not part of the military, because you don’t greet anyone the way soldiers or others are obliged to, yet you’re still too involved to be here without someone escorting you out.

He can’t fucking think when you’re around. Not that there’s much thinking involved in working out, lifting weights isn’t exactly a task that requires brainpower, but your stares, whenever they find his form, which he can feel on his skin as soon as they land, fuck him up to the point where they make him forget whether he’s supposed to inhale or exhale, leaving him out of breath too soon and causing his muscles to ache like never before.

At this point, he’s sure you could be labelled as part of the gym’s inventory. Not just because you’re as silent as the equipment, if that’s even possible, but also because, if he’s honest, he can’t imagine this place without you anymore. It drives him insane, especially when all he wants to do is walk over and make you talk. Get a reaction out of you, any reaction, really. Maybe even choke you while his di—

His dumbbell freezes mid-push, his eyes incredulously wide at his own thoughts, as Jimin’s leaning over him, face split in half by the most insufferable, knowing grin Jungkook has ever seen.

“Thinking thoughts?”

“Shut the fuck—”

But as if the day couldn’t get any worse, Kang, the base commander, strides into the room, causing everyone, including Jungkook, to put their equipment away. In seconds, they’re standing stiff, saluting and reciprocating the greeting in unison: “Dan-gyeol. (Unity)”

“Resume.”

But nobody processes the command, too confused by the sight of someone in such a high position here.

Much to everyone’s surprise too, if that’s even possible, Kang turns to you. Again, he salutes, which causes you to rise gracefully from the bench and bow silently, as you always do.

Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away, not when your angelic face remains unmoving, nodding to whatever the commander is saying. And even though he’d love to strain his ears, play mouse just this once, to get a clue about what makes you so special, he knows he has to follow orders and resume his training.

While Jungkook stays silent like everyone else, he can’t stop his eyes from drifting to you again and again, like some pathetic little boy checking if his crush is flirting with someone else.

Stop.

A crush? No. He doesn’t do crushes. How absurd.

Though as your mesmerising eyes briefly glance his way, his heart flips him the metaphorical middle finger by rocketing straight out of his throat.

And Jungkook realises now, that he is doomed.

Fuck. 

You’re late.

You’re never late, so why are you late this time?

Jungkook doesn’t know, and somehow he doesn’t want to know. Not because he kind of has a bad feeling about it, but because he refuses to acknowledge the possibility that you might not come back ever again. It would make sense, in a way, seeing as Kang came by the last time Jungkook saw you.

It doesn’t help that Jimin’s being a little shit too, unable to keep his mouth shut about Jungkook glancing one too many times towards the gym door.

“One more.” Well, at least Jungkook can pay him back by pushing him just a tiny bit over his limit.

“I can’t,” Jimin groans, clearly struggling to lift the dumbbell one more time. His arms are shaking, and his face is so red that even Jungkook fears he might burst a vein in his eye.

“You can, and you will, hyung.” He didn’t mean to let his frustration out on Jimin, but who can fault him?

He’s what now? 27 years old? Struggling with his emotions, no, scratch that, his hormones over a woman he hasn’t even spoken to once in weeks? He doesn’t even know your name, so why on earth are his hormones going haywire?

Jungkook can’t tell. Just like he can’t tell how many days have passed or how many are left in his military service. But he knows exactly how many times he’s seen you. God, he wants to roll his eyes at himself, at the way he’s acting like a teenager, when he never even got the chance to be one in the first place.

Maybe that’s the problem. He never had the opportunity to experience this kind of infatuation. His busy schedule and the ever-present gold-diggers demanding too much of him didn’t leave space for what others felt years ago.

But when the door finally creaks open, all those thoughts vanish.

And while everyone startles into saluting position, Kang enters the room first, it’s Jungkook’s eyes, though, that can’t look away from your petite form trailing behind Kang, bowing the second you both stand before the soldiers.

“Dan-gyeol.”

“Dan-gyeol,” everyone answers in unison.

You’re so pretty again, your hair styled perfectly, shimmering healthily under the fluorescent lights. Jungkook’s mind starts spinning in circles, stopping only occasionally as he notices new details about you he hadn’t before. Like how your left shoulder hangs slightly lower, probably from carrying your bag on that side. Or the faint tremble in your hands around your tablet. He’s not sure if that’s always been there or if his gut feeling was right all along.

“Private Song Bong. Private Jeon Jungkook. Step forward.”

Jungkook doesn’t like this, not when he can’t even grasp what he might have done wrong for him and Bong to be singled out. Maybe you snitched on Bong for cornering you. Though, to be fair, you tasered him, but still that obviously wouldn’t end well for Bong. Maybe Jungkook’s stares weren’t appropriate. Maybe he’s screwed up too and can’t do anything about the punishment he’ll get for just looking.

“Private Bong, your recent actions are unacceptable. Attempting to assault an outsider, especially a woman, not only violates military code but also brings disgrace to this unit. Your conduct has revealed major deficiencies in character, and as a result, you are hereby removed from your current duties in supply inventory management. Effective immediately, you will be assigned to latrine duty for the next month. Consider this your opportunity to reflect on what it means to uphold the standards of this base and the military as a whole. Dismissed.”

And while Bong doesn’t protest but just steps back in line, Jungkook’s hands turn cold, his eyes switching between Commander Kang and you as he waits for a verdict he doesn’t even know the cause of, all while you’re staring blankly somewhere behind him and the other soldiers.

“Private Jeon.” Jungkook can’t help but gulp violently, though he tries to keep his face as stoic as he was taught. “Your exemplary conduct, unwavering character, and outstanding mental and physical strength have not gone unnoticed. As of today, you are relieved of your current duties in the kitchen and reassigned to the elite training programme for aspiring jet fighter pilots within the special forces. You will accompany me and Doctor ___ immediately to commence your training. This is an extraordinary opportunity, and I trust you will continue to excel and bring honour to this unit. Congratulations, Private Jeon.”

Muscles stiff, Jungkook salutes on instinct. “Chungseong! (Loyalty) I will do my best, sir!”

“Resume.”

It doesn’t take long until Jungkook follows you and Commander Kang out of the gym as everyone resumes their training, his footsteps echoing awkwardly in the corridor, making him too aware of the way only his trainers squeak against the polished floor, but he pushes the thought aside. 

This is big. Special Forces. 

Something he’s dreamed about but always was told was off the table because of his tattoos. And yet, he’s somehow being escorted to God-knows-where in a wing of the base he’s never even seen before.

Excitement rushes through him, but right underneath it is curiosity he can’t seem to shake. What’s your deal? Who even are you? You’re not military, your lack of a formal greeting protocol and Kang calling you an ‘outsider’ made that clear, but you’ve been given more authority than most. He steals a glance at you, walking slightly ahead of him, your posture as stiff as ever, and not to mention, your face betraying nothing. 

Kang stops outside a door and gestures for Jungkook to enter. “Private Jeon, step inside. You’ll be assessed for your new gear.”

Jungkook nods and salutes. “Yes, sir.” He hesitates briefly though, eyes flickering towards you, but you don’t even glance his way. Instead, you stay behind with Kang as he steps through the door.

Inside, another soldier is already waiting, a no-bullshit guy who doesn’t bother with introductions. There’s a computer, several measuring devices, and a distinct lack of comfort in the room as the soldier gestures for Jungkook to strip, and Jungkook just blinks.

“Boxers too, or…?”

“Keep those on,” the guy replies dryly. “We’re not running that kind of experiment.”

Jungkook huffs a small laugh, trying to shake off the awkwardness. He pulls off his shirt, then his joggers, tossing them onto a nearby bench as the soldier starts rattling off instructions, explaining how he’ll be measured, weighed, and fitted for his uniform and jet fighter suit. Jungkook nods along, though half of his brain is still stuck outside the room, wondering what the hell you and Kang are talking about.

The weighing and measuring process is straightforward enough, albeit a little dehumanising. He stands still as the soldier adjusts tools around him, scribbling numbers into a notepad. Jungkook’s not shy about his body, he’s worked hard for it, but something about the clinical nature of it all makes him feel strangely vulnerable and small. 

“Alright, time for the cardio resting point assessment,” the soldier wheels a heart monitor over. “I’ll wire you up, then you’ll run in place for a few minutes. Clear?”

“Clear.”

Wires are attached to his chest, and the beeping of the monitor fills the room as Jungkook begins jogging lightly. The rhythm is soothing at first, his heart beating steadily as he focuses on the mirror in front of him, zoning out slightly, until the door creaks open behind him.

You step inside.

Jungkook’s whole body tenses, and he nearly trips over his own feet, though no one seems to notice. Through the mirror, he watches you position yourself against the wall at the back of the room. You don’t say a word, just stand there, observing him. And then, God help him just this once, your gaze starts travelling. From his legs to his torso, slow and methodical, like you’re evaluating him for parts. Jungkook knows it shouldn’t bother him, telling himself it’s probably part of your job or whatever. But it does bother him, and not in the way it should.

He tries to focus on his jogging, but his eyes keep darting to the mirror, catching glimpses of you studying him. When your gaze finally reaches his face, his heart skips a beat. Literally. And the monitor beeps erratically, the soldier frowning beside him. 

“Hold up. Your heart rate’s spiking.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, but you beat him to it. “It’s a malfunction,” you state smoothly, your voice soft and oh-so melodic, like fucking wind chimes he dreamed about. “He’s fine. Look at his form. Textbook. His fitness levels are well above average.”

It’s the first time Jungkook has heard you speak, a compliment at that too, and it knocks the remaining brain cells out of his skull, causing him to stumble slightly, catching himself just in time, but the damage is done. His cheeks burn as he wills his heart to calm the fuck down. What is he, a schoolboy? So embarrassing, Jeon. Get a grip. 

“Malfunction, huh?” the soldier mutters, glancing between the monitor and Jungkook. He doesn’t look convinced, but he shrugs and waves Jungkook off the machine. “Alright, you’re good. Get dressed and head to the next station.”

Jungkook nods stiffly, pulling the wires off his heaving chest and grabbing his clothes. You step out of the room before he finishes dressing, which is probably a good thing because he’s pretty sure his face is still bright red.

When he emerges, you’re waiting for him, tablet in hand and Kang thankfully gone.

“This way,” you gesture with your slender hand, not even looking at him. Your voice is still echoing in his head, soft and almost surreal to the point he debates if he’s locked in a dream. Still, Jungkook trails after you like a puppy, cursing himself for how ridiculous he feels and acts. 

The next stop is a classroom-like space, though it’s more high-tech than any classroom Jungkook’s ever seen. Screens cover the walls, displaying schematics of fighter jets, and a stern-looking instructor stands at the front. You guide Jungkook to a seat near the centre, then take a spot near the back, again, silently observing. Of. Course.

The lesson begins, and Jungkook tries his best to focus as the instructor dives into the basics of jet fighter operation, rattling off jargon that makes Jungkook’s head spin even more. He nods along, taking mental notes, but it’s hard to concentrate when he can feel your eyes on him. Not in a direct, obvious way, but more like a gentle and subtle pressure, nagging at his consciousness. 

He sneaks a glance back at you, and sure enough, you’re watching him. Your tablet rests on your lap, stylus poised, and you’re scribbling something down without even looking down. About him, probably, surely. 

What are you writing? Does it matter that his leg bounced when the instructor mentioned G-forces? Or that his jaw ticked ever so slightly when he brought up emergency landings? What could you possibly be noting down about him that’s worth recording?

He catches himself zoning out and forces his attention back to the lesson. The instructor is explaining the mechanics of takeoff, and Jungkook tries to visualise it in his head. Still, his thoughts wander, looping back to you every time.

It’s stupid, really. He barely knows you. But still, he’s completely fixated. Maybe it’s because you’re different. Everyone else on this base is easy to figure out, soldiers, commanders, all operating within the same rigid system. But you? You’re an anomaly. And Jungkook has always been drawn to puzzles.

The lesson drags on, and Jungkook keeps stealing glances back at you. Each time, you’re scribbling something new, your expression as blank as ever and he wonders if you’re even capable of smiling. What would it look like? Would your face brighten like the sun itself, your eyes crinkling at the corners? Would your lips—

Nope. Stop. Not going there.

By the time the lesson ends, Jungkook’s brain feels fried. The instructor dismisses him with a curt nod, and he gathers his things, well, more so himself, glancing back to see if you’re leaving too. But you’re still seated, tapping away on your tablet. He hesitates, unsure if he’s supposed to wait for you or move on.

“You’re dismissed, Private Jeon,” you say without looking up.

Right. Of course you knew he was waiting for you, even without seeing him. He mutters a quick, “Yes, ma’am,” salutes and hurries out of the room, feeling like a complete idiot.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to expect when you appear at the door of his barracks the next morning. All he knows is that you’re there, standing stiff as a post, clutching your ever-present tablet to your chest like it’s a lifeline.

There’s something different about you today, though, something in the way your shoulders seem too tense, your hands gripping the tablet so tightly that your tiny knuckles turn bright white. And that’s when he spots it, the taser, hidden neatly between the edge of the tablet and your chest. 

He’s not sure why it surprises him. You’ve made it clear that you’re not above using it when necessary, R.I.P. Bong’s dignity, but something about the way you hold it now, fingers trembling slightly, makes him pause.

You’re nervous. Maybe even scared.

“Private Jeon,” you greet, not quite meeting his gaze. Your voice is the same soft, melodic tone as yesterday, but there’s a barely audible hitch in it that he doesn’t miss. “Follow me.”

Jungkook doesn’t question it, just grabs his cap and falls into step behind you. He’s curious, of course, curiosity seems to be his default setting when it comes to you, but he keeps quiet, sensing that whatever’s going on, you’re not in the mood for him to voice his usual internal debates about your role on this base. Still, he can’t help but notice the way your eyes dart around the hallway, scanning every corner like you’re expecting trouble.

And, surprise, it doesn’t take long for said trouble to find you.

As you lead him through the barracks, a group of soldiers loitering by the common area turns their attention your way. The first mocking whistle cuts through the otherwise silent area, followed by a low murmur of suggestive comments that make Jungkook’s temper flare. You don’t react, not a single flinch, not even a glance in their direction, but Jungkook doesn’t miss the way your eyes turn a bit frantic, your pace quickening just enough to be noticeable.

The second whistle is louder, accompanied by a snide, “Oi, sweetheart, where’s the taser today?” and Jungkook feels something too hot coil in his chest.

Protective instincts kick in before he can stop himself, and he steps closer to you, his broad frame forming a shield between you and the others. He doesn’t say a word, he knows he doesn’t need to, his evil glare, honed from years of performance and discipline, says enough. The soldiers falter, their smirks fading under his gaze, and Jungkook takes a grim sort of satisfaction in the way they quickly turn back to their conversation.

You don’t say anything, but he can tell you’ve noticed. Your pace slows just slightly, and for the rest of the walk, the tension in your shoulders eases a fraction with each step. It’s not much, but it’s enough to make Jungkook feel like he’s done something right.

Finally, you stop outside a plain white door and push it open, gesturing for him to enter first. Jungkook steps inside, taking in the small, functional office. It’s sparsely decorated, just a desk, a chair, and a curtained-off area in the corner that seems to serve as a makeshift changing room or whatever. You follow him in, shutting the door behind you, and hand him what looks like a folded jet suit.

“This is your new gear,” you hold it out to him, again not meeting his eyes. “Try it on.”

Jungkook takes the suit, the smooth, high-tech fabric cool against his hands even where you were holding it seconds ago. “Here?” he asks dumbly, glancing around. He’s not shy, exactly, but stripping down in front of you doesn’t sit right with him. 

You raise an eyebrow, the faintest hint of exasperation creeping into your expression. “There’s a changing area,” you nod towards the curtain. “Use it.”

“Right. Of course.” Jungkook wants to slap himself twice for good measure, just because he saw that area himself.

Quickly, he ducks behind the curtain, grateful for the small reprieve. As he pulls off his uniform and steps into the jet suit, he can’t help but wonder why you seem so tense today. It’s not just the soldiers’ comments, he’s seen you handle far worse without batting an eye. No, this is something deeper, something that has your hands shaking and your voice just a touch too steady.

By the time he finishes zipping up the suit, he’s more confused than ever. He steps out from behind the curtain, and you turn to face him, your eyes flicking over him in a quick, professional assessment.

“How does it feel?”

Jungkook shrugs, rolling his shoulders. “Tight, but not uncomfortable.”

You nod, stepping closer to adjust a strap on his arm. Jungkook swears he stops breathing for a moment, the proximity doing things to his heart rate that he’d rather not admit, thankful he’s not connected to the heart monitor this time.

He watches you as you work, the way your brow furrows slightly in concentration, the soft brush of your fingers against his sleeve. And then it happens!

Your mouth twitches. Just the faintest hint of a smile, barely there and gone in an instant, but Jungkook sees it. And it wrecks him.

Oh, he’s done for. Absolutely done for. That tiny twitch of your lips? It’s enough to send his brain spiralling into a mess of thoughts he has no business thinking.

You’re human. You can smile.

He doesn’t know why that thought hits him so hard, but it does. You’ve always been so composed, so insanely unreadable, that seeing even the smallest crack in your armour feels monumental. He wants to see it again, wants to say something clever or stupid or anything, really, to make it happen, but the words stick in his throat.

“Good fit,” you agree, stepping back. “You’ll need to wear it during all training exercises from now on.”

Jungkook nods, trying to focus on your words instead of the way his heart is doing somersaults. “Understood.”

You turn away, picking up your tablet, and Jungkook’s eyes follow you. He notices the way your hands are still trembling slightly, the way you keep glancing at the door as if expecting someone to barge in. And suddenly, it clicks.

You’re scared. Not of him, he’s pretty sure you’re incapable of fearing him, even if you probably should be after the way he’s been staring, but of the soldiers. Of this place. Of what your job forces you to do.

He remembers the way Bong looked at you after the taser incident, the barely concealed fury in his eyes. You’re not just some outsider; you’re a decision-maker. You hold people’s futures in your hands, and not everyone takes that well.

Jungkook feels a pang of compassion, realising how isolating that must be. No wonder you keep everyone at arm’s length, crafting an untouchable facade day in and day out.  

“Is that all for today?” he tries, his voice softer than he intends, though he can’t help himself. 

You glance at him, surprised, as if you weren’t expecting him to speak. “For now,” your tone’s still cautious but Jungkook now understands. “There’s a briefing tomorrow morning. Be on time.”

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t move to leave. He hesitates, debating whether to say what’s on his mind, but the words tumble out before he can stop them.

“For what it’s worth,” he starts, meeting your gaze, “you’re doing a good job.”

Your hands and eyes still slightly, and for a moment, you just stare at him. Then, without a word, you turn back to your tablet, but Jungkook doesn’t miss the way your grip on it loosens, doesn’t miss the way your lips twitch again, just a little.

As he leaves your office, he can’t help but smile to himself too. Maybe he’s starting to figure you out, and he’s down bad for it. 

The day after, you've brought Jungkook before the g-force machine, all sleek steel and imposing mechanics, like something out of a crazed sci-fi movie. Jungkook stares at it, his confidence wobbling slightly for the first time since he started his military service. He’s usually game for anything, but this? This looks like a whole different beast.

The control panel operator, a man who introduces himself simply as Sergeant Kim, gestures for Jungkook to step forward. “We’ll be running a standard g-force tolerance test today,” he explains calmly, though Jungkook's anything but. “You’ll be in the centrifuge, and it’ll spin progressively faster. The goal is to sustain 9 Gs. You’ll need to practice the anti-G straining manoeuvre, tensing your leg and abdominal muscles to keep blood flow to your brain. And don’t forget to inhale sharply every five seconds to stabilise.”

Jungkook nods, trying to keep his nerves in check. He knows what’s coming, he’s read about it, watched the videos instructed. But none of that preparation stops his palms from sweating as he climbs into the contraption.

As he settles into the cockpit-like seat, strapping himself in, he sneaks a glance at you before the door closes in his face. You’re standing off to the side with your tablet, your face, as always, composed, but there’s something in your eyes, noticeable even in this distance. Concern? Maybe curiosity? That ridiculous thought makes his poor heart do a little flip.

“Private Jeon, are you ready?” Sergeant Kim’s voice crackles through the comms.

“Ready,” Jungkook replies, his voice steadier than he actually feels.

The machine comes to life shortly after, and Jungkook grips the armrests as the centrifuge begins its slow but steady rotation. At first, it’s almost pleasant, like being on an amusement park ride. But then the speed picks up, and the pressure in his chest starts to build.

“Three Gs,” Kim announces. “Remember to breathe, sharp inhales every five seconds. And start engaging those muscles.”

Jungkook complies, tightening his legs and core as instructed. He inhales sharply, counting in his head to five, then inhales again. It’s manageable, for now.

“Six Gs.”

Now it’s not so manageable. The weight on his chest feels like someone’s parked a truck on him, and his vision starts to darken at the edges, fearing he might loose consciousness any second. It’s getting impossible to breathe, but he forces himself to stick to the rhythm. Inhale, hold for five, inhale and repeat.

“Good. Keep it up, Private. We’re going to eight Gs.”

Eight Gs feels like he’s being flattened by the universe. Every muscle in his body screams as he fights to keep the blood from pooling in his legs. His fingers dig into the armrests even more, not the least bit fazed bye the prospect of pulling a nail, and he can barely hear Kim over the deafening roaring of his blood in his ears.

“Nine Gs,” Kim announces, and Jungkook swears he’s going to pass out. His breaths are shallow now, too shallow, the strain overwhelming. He forgets to inhale on time, and suddenly the world starts to go black.

“Jungkook, inhale.”

It’s your voice. Clear, steady, crackling through the comms like a lifeline he needed. His body reacts before his brain does, taking in a sharp, desperate breath. The darkness recedes, and somehow, miraculously, he holds on.

“Test complete,” Kim announces, the centrifuge slowing with each spin until it stops and Jungkook’s free to leave this deathtrap. “Well done, Private Jeon.”

Jungkook can barely process the words. His body feels like jelly, and his mind is a swimmy, disoriented mess. But he hears the applause from Kim and a few blurred others in the control room. Then you step closer, your voice soft as you search his eyes, “Congratulations, Private Jeon. You did it.”

He manages a weak smile, the sound of your approval somehow wiggling through the fog in his head. And then, he remembers, because protocol demands it, he salutes sluggishly to Commander Kang, who’s watching from the observation deck.

“Impressive, Private Jeon,” Kang confirms with a nod.

Jungkook barely registers the compliment. All he knows is that his heart is racing, not from the test, but from the way your eyes linger on him for just a second longer, a little softer than usual. 

“Follow me,” you instruct him after bowing to the observation deck, gesturing for Jungkook to come with you.

He stumbles after you, his legs and mind feeling like rubber, partly from the adrenaline, partly from the fact that you just saved his ass in there. You lead him back to your office without a word and when you shut the door behind you, Jungkook finally lets himself relax. Well, until you grab a bin from under your desk and thrust it into his hands.

“Uh, what’s this for?” he asks, confused.

“You’re running on adrenaline,” you explain, your tone matter-of-factly but laced with humour. “It��s going to crash. Give it a few seconds.”

“I think I’m fine—”

You hold up a hand, cutting him off. “I’m going to count down from five. Trust me.”

He blinks at you but nods, too dazed to argue.

“Five,” you begin, calm, expectant.

“Four.”

His stomach flips.

“Three.”

His head feels too light, almost floaty.

“Two.”

His vision tilts.

“One.”

And then it hits. A wave of nausea so intense that he doesn’t even have time to protest before he’s heaving into the bin.

You’re by his side in an instant, one hand on his back, the other steadying his hand over the bin. “There you go,” you coo softly, your touch surprisingly soothing. “Just let it out.”

Jungkook hates this, hates feeling weak, hates the thought of you seeing him like this. But your voice is so calm, so reassuring, that he can’t bring himself to care as much as he normally would.

When it’s over, he slumps back into the chair you pull up for him, wiping his mouth with the tissue you hand him. “That… was brutal,” he mutters, his voice hoarse from all the heaving.

You smile, the first real smile this time. “Welcome to special forces training.”

Jungkook laughs weakly, shaking his head. “Is it always like this?”

“Not always,” you muse, though your tone’s too teasing for his liking. “Sometimes it’s worse.”

He groans, but there’s no real heat behind it. Despite everything, he feels better. Like he’s actually flying. Like he’s touching the sky. And he knows it’s not just the fading adrenaline talking. It’s you.

You, with your stoic face and calming voice. You, who stepped in when he needed it most. You, who smiled at him like he wasn’t just another soldier to be measured and assessed.

As he gazes into your smiling face, still feeling like crap but somehow grateful for it, a realisation forces down on him like 9 G.

He’s truly falling for you.

Jungkook stands in the hallway outside your office, his hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders hunched slightly as if he’s shielding himself from the possibility of rejection before it’s even happened. His thoughts are a mess ever since he first saw you, an ongoing tug-of-war between his nerves and his determination. He paces a little, then stops, running a hand through his short hair, the frustration about its length momentarily distracting him but not for long enough. 

“Get a grip man,” he mutters under his breath but his nerves, nor his heart, won’t calm down.

It’s been weeks since you started working together more closely, weeks of seeing the real you, the quiet strength behind your professional mask, the flashes of humour you try to hide, the empathy you can’t quite suppress even when you think no one’s watching. He’s caught himself admiring you more times than he can count, and now it’s all he thinks about.

But this isn’t just a crush, he tells himself. This is so much more. You’re different. Special. And he knows he can’t let this opportunity slip by, not when he might regret it for the rest of his life.

Of course, there’s the little matter of protocol, of the fact that you hold a position of authority in a place where strict boundaries are enforced. But you're not exactly part of the military, and Jungkook knows his service is limited too. If he doesn’t act now, he might never get another chance.

But what if you say no? His brain goes into overdrive, showing him a list of reasons why this could go horribly wrong. He imagines you laughing at him, rejecting him outright, maybe even avoiding him after this. Maybe even snitching on him, causing his removal from the special forces and being assigned to latrine duty permanently. 

Then he shakes his head. No. Stop overthinking. He’s Jeon Jungkook. An idol. A soldier. He’s faced grueling special forces training, survived G-forces that would knock most people out, and tackled challenges that seemed impossible. Surely asking you out can’t be harder than that.

“Just do it,” he preps himself, and before he can second-guess himself again, he steps up to your door and knocks.

“Come in,” your voice calls from inside, calm, angelic, and professional as always.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, straightening his shoulders for some much needed confidence. 

You’re seated at your desk, as usual, your tablet in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. And as you glance up, clearly surprised to see him, you set the tablet and coffee down. “Private Jeon. What can I do for you?”

He hesitates for a split second, then, after an internal nod, takes his chances. “I wanted to ask you something.”

You nod, waiting expectantly. “Go on.”

Jungkook shifts on his feet, his nerves bubbling up again, but he forces himself to push through. “I was wondering if you’d… like to go out with me sometime.”

You cock a brow, and for a brief moment, he sees the cracks in your mask, the genuine surprise, the uncertainty. But then it’s back, your professional demeanour snapping into place like a rubber band.

“I appreciate the… sentiment,” you try carefully, “but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jungkook doesn’t back down. “Why not?”

You sigh, standing up but toying with the things scattered on your desk. “Because it’s unprofessional. And temporary. My contract here has an end date, Private Jeon. I’ll be gone before you know it.”

“Exactly,” he counters, stepping closer. “That’s why I can’t let this go. I don’t want to regret not saying anything.”

You shake your head, moving towards the door. “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand—”

“I do,” Jungkook interrupts, maybe too desperate but he doesn’t care. “My service ends too. This isn’t temporary for me.”

That makes you pause, your hand hovering over the doorknob. “What are you saying?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, his heart pounding so violently he can’t even hear his own voice. “I’m saying, I don’t want to date just for the sake of it. I date for the future, not just the moment.”

You turn to face him fully now, your expression conflicted, mask slipping just a bit. “Do you even realise what you’re saying?”

“Yes,” he confirms without hesitation. “I know exactly what I’m saying. And I know it sounds crazy, but I’m serious about this. About you.”

Your eyes search his face, looking for… what? Truth? Sincerity? Whatever it is, he hopes you find it, because he’s never been more honest in his life.

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter, though your voice lacks conviction.

“Maybe,” Jungkook admits with a small smile. “But that doesn’t make it any less real.”

You sigh, glancing away, clearly wrestling with yourself. For a long moment, the room is silent except for the faint buzz of the air conditioning, but then, eventually, you look back at him.

“Alright,” you sigh finally, holding one slender finger up. “One chance. But if this doesn’t work, we go back to normal. Agreed?”

Jungkook grins, his heart soaring. “Agreed.”

You nod, reaching for the door. “Good. Now get out of my office before I change my mind.”

He chuckles, saluting playfully. “Yes, ma’am.”

As you leave with that tiny smile of yours, Jungkook stays behind for a moment, letting the reality of what just happened sink in. Then, unable to contain his excitement, he pumps his fist in the air, a triumphant smile lighting up his face.

“Fuck yeah,” he cheers quietly, still grinning like the fool he is. 

Life's good as Jungkook lies sprawled on your bed, head propped on your favourite pillow as the opening credits of some drama flicker on the TV screen. The colourful glow of the screen illuminates your beautiful face as you settle beside him, legs tucked under the shared blanket as you lie down with your head on his chest. It’s quiet, comfortable, the kind of peaceful he’s come to associate with you, and his mind drifts back to the first date that really started it all.

He still can’t believe you said yes. The memory of that first date plays in his head like a highlight reel, vivid and heartwarming to its core. You’d chosen a small, unassuming café, your idea, of course, something low-key, hidden even, and away from the base and any other prying eyes.

Jungkook had been nervous in a way he hadn’t been since debut, trying too hard to appear relaxed even if he was anything but. But you’d arrived looking effortlessly stunning in a casual outfit that still screamed you from miles away, smiling shyly as if you weren’t used to being off-duty.

From the moment you sat across from him, every doubt he ever had melted away. Conversation natural, only punctuated by your quick wit and his occasional stumbles when your laughter made him forget whatever point he was trying to make, he fell faster and harder.

By the end of the evening, he’d been so sure of one thing: you were the girl of his dreams. Not the fantasy he’d had growing up, full of vague ideals and superficial notions, but the ultimate, real thing. Someone who made him feel seen, loved, and inexplicably lighter all at once.

And he’d been right. You didn’t just help him fly in the military; you helped him soar emotionally too. For someone who’s spent years chasing perfection and pushing limits, you make him feel like it’s okay to just be. That’s why he can’t stop himself from smiling as he watches you now, your focus on the screen but your hand resting comfortably over his heart like it belongs there.

He’s been thinking about the future more often lately, imagining what it might look like when his service ends and he’s back to being “Jungkook of BTS”. The idea doesn’t scare him the way it might have before, but instead, it excites him, because he can picture you there with him, cheering him and the other members on, teasing him when he’s too nervous or too sure of himself, and being the calm to his chaotic lifestyle. 

Jungkook can see late nights at home, your laughter not only ringing in your shared space but his heart too, and maybe someday a little one running around. Maybe even two. Or three. The thought makes his soul sing, and he has to shake his head to stop himself from grinning too widely.

The days following that first date weren’t much different on the surface. Everything on base stayed the same, orders were followed, routines were maintained, but the stolen moments with you were like a secret sea in the desert. Whenever you were alone, professionalism would snap away, and you’d be kissing and giggling like teenagers sneaking behind the school. 

Jungkook’s favourite memory is when you’d pulled him into a supply closet under the pretense of finding something and kissed him until he couldn’t think straight, only for both of you to dissolve into laughter when someone, well, commander Kang walked past, oblivious.

And now, here he is with you, on his day off, not with his family or the boys but with you, learning more about you in your own space. 

Your apartment is a reflection of you, organised yet cosy, filled with small details that hint at your interests. He’s noticed the stack of random books on your desk, the playlist of songs you probably don’t realise he’s memorised by now, and the way your kitchen counter has an odd mix of military-grade efficiency and homely touches like the mismatched mugs.

You shift beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You’re staring,” you state without looking away from the screen.

He chuckles softly. “Can’t help it. You’re prettier than the drama.”

You’d roll your eyes if you were the type for that, but you’ve told him it’s something you detest to your core. To you, it means not taking the other person seriously and visually dismissing them, something you find deeply disrespectful. So, you just smile that unique smile of yours, nudging him with your shoulder. “Focus. You might miss something important.”

“Doubt it,” he teases. “It’s just another love triangle, isn’t it?”

“It’s about more than that,” you argue, turning your head to him now with mock indignation. “There’s depth here. Themes of loyalty, sacrifice, and the human condition.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “And yet, the lead guy’s about to confess his undying love in the middle of a crowded park. Very original.”

“Alright, Mr. Cynic,” you pout, sitting up straighter. “You’ve got a point there.”

Jungkook cocks a brow at you, nibbling on his lip as he contemplates your words and decides to backtrack a bit. “What’s wrong with a public proposal? It’s romantic.”

“You’re right, it’s cliché.”

“Not if it’s done right.”

You scoff. “There’s no ‘right’ way to embarrass someone in front of a hundred strangers.”

Jungkook grins, sensing a debate. “Okay, hear me out. A public proposal is the ultimate love confession. It’s like shouting to the world, ‘This is my person, and I’m not afraid to show it’. It’s bold, it’s heartfelt, and it’s memorable.”

“It’s pressure,” you counter. “And what if the answer’s no? You’ve just humiliated both of you for no reason.”

“But what if the answer’s yes?” he leans closer, willing his eyes to gleam a bit more for you to fall into his trap. “Then you’ve just created a moment neither of you will ever forget.”

You tilt your head, considering him, eyes switching between his and his lips. “You’re really into this idea, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip for good measure. “Not saying I’d do it, but I get the appeal.”

“You’d definitely do it,” you reply, smirking now, transfixed by his lips like he is by yours. “You’re exactly the type to go all out with a flash mob or something ridiculous.”

He laughs, raising his eyes to yours and his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, you got me. But only if I knew the person would say yes.”

“Safe bet,” you muse.

“Always,” Jungkook agrees softly. He’s looking at you in that way that makes your cheeks heat up, but he senses immediately that you refuse to let him win this round.

“Well,” you continue, turning back to the screen, “good thing I’ll never have to worry about it. I prefer my proposals private, thank you very much.”

“We’ll see,” he murmurs under his breath, grinning when you shoot him a playful glare.

While you’re both silently watching the last minutes of the drama, Jungkook can’t help but picture his future with you, stuck on the image of you in a white dress, of you carrying his children. It’s absurd this early in your relationship, but seeing as he’s had a dry spell for the last few years and you’re now lying beside him, he can’t do anything about the blood rushing to certain parts of his body.

Your body’s so warm against his, leg leisurely draped over his, tiny hand mindlessly tracing his pecs and abs, that it takes all his willpower to stop his cock from twitching even more.

Do you feel the same? You haven’t been intimate up to this point, though your chemistry is undeniable, the pull he feels surely not one-sided. As he strains his neck just a little, trying to sneak a peek at your face, he sees you biting your lips with hooded eyes. Then he feels your thigh clench ever so slightly against his, and he knows you’re struggling too, causing his heart to start beating a little faster, his cock to grow a little harder.

Jungkook lets his free hand wander to yours on his chest, caressing his way up your arm until he reaches your jaw, tilting your head to press the most tender kiss he’s ever shared with you onto your plush lips. He lets himself savour your taste, gently pushing you fully on top of him, hands settling on your ass cheeks as he gets lost in you.

There’s no hesitation in the way you grind your clothed cunt against him, no restraint in the feathery moans that echo from your lips to his. If there’s something Jungkook could wish for, it would be to make love to you seven days a week for the rest of his life.

Your name leaves his parted lips in a husky breath as you trail open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck, his hands sliding up under your shirt, pulling it off and discarding it somewhere on the bed.

Jungkook takes a moment to drink you in, just a short while, before grabbing you tenderly by the neck, pulling you down, and capturing your lips again as he rolls you both over, his shirt gone not long after.

Every time your eyes meet his, peeking through your thick lashes, his heart flips, reminding him how deeply you’ve ingrained yourself in him. Even though he wants to have every inch of you, touch every millimetre of your smooth skin, he settles for your lips for now.

Trousers off, you both help each other out of your underwear with tender touches, staying close, connected by shared breath, unable to separate even for a second. Jungkook’s so smitten, it should be embarrassing, but it’s anything but, not when your eyes mirror exactly what he’s feeling.

Helping you lie down on the mattress, Jungkook kisses his way down your body, over the valley of your breasts to your most sensitive spot, letting his nose brush over your clit, Jungkook takes a whiff, then licks the first stripe up your slit. The taste of you is the best he’s ever had, leaving every favourite food of his far behind as he gets lost between your legs.

Moan after breathy moan fills the room, each one enchanting, making him unable to stop, unable to slow down as he dives deeper, pushing his tongue further into your hot, fluttering walls, wanting more, needing more.

When your delicate fingers brush over his head, gently pressing him closer as your hips lift and stutter with your first orgasm, Jungkook feels like the luckiest man in the universe, lapping up your release like the dessert it is.

He doesn’t mind that his face is smeared with your juices, doesn’t care that he’s out of breath. Fingers caressing your sides, kneading your breasts lightly before settling his elbows beside your head, he kisses your dry lips and sucking your tongue.

He’s rather surprised that, despite your obviously petite frame, you’re able to twist your thighs against his body and send him falling over, straddled by you so quickly he gets a brief whiplash.

Jungkook would have never thought of you as dominant in bed, but as he gazes at you, absolutely fascinated to the point of shock, it becomes clear to him very quickly that you’re not dominant at all, but just intent on making him feel good as well.

The beautiful smile he’s learned to love from the bottom of his heart doesn’t compare to the light, shy blush coating your cheeks, your hands trailing along his body as you slowly lean down to kiss the shock off his face. He’s been kissed before, though nothing compares to this, nothing compares to your kisses, filled to the brim with adoration he can only drown in.

It overwhelms him; you overwhelm him in the best way possible, and he needs to speak his mind, needs to let you know, because he’s done wasting time when it comes to you.

Lifting your head, dwarfed in the size of his hands, he locks eyes with your glassy ones, letting his tattooed thumb trail over your rosy cheekbone as he confesses, “I love you.”

It should have felt difficult to voice, to admit, but he doesn’t feel scared, doesn’t fear rejection even for a split second. And when your eyes light up even more, brighter than when you were coming undone minutes ago, Jungkook knows he’s finally found peace.

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

Sealed by a kiss, he presses your small frame against his, not caring that the head of his cock gets squished between your bodies. Eventually, you break free, just a little, making him feel cold in an instant even though you’re still here, still touching.

“Let me make you feel good,” you husk against his pec, toying with your tongue on his nipple, sucking, blowing, circling it until you’re satisfied with the soft moans escaping Jungkook’s lips and his hips buckling instinctively.

Never has he felt this cared for, never has anyone given him this attention, this love, and he reckons he’s nowhere near done falling deeper in love with you. Especially as you slowly crawl back, inch by inch, your warm hands trailing along his body, your mouth imprinting the feeling of your lips on his skin to the point where he’ll never be able to forget.

When you take, or rather, try to take his big cock into your hand, your eyes glittering in wonder as you realise you need both hands to even come close to giving him proper satisfaction, Jungkook thinks he might unload right there and then. But he forces his orgasm down, forces himself to let it drag out even if it takes hours, just to enjoy this moment.

“Oh god,” you moan almost inaudibly around his cock as you first take him into your mouth, eyes rolling back as if his precum tastes like pure honey, making him twitch against your throat.

And while he knows you don’t like to roll your eyes at him, in this moment, seeing this sight of you, Jungkook would take any eye roll like a trophy. Saliva doesn’t take long to drip down, coating not only his cock but your hands too, pooling at the base of his cock and balls as you give him your all.

Feeling higher than he’s ever felt before, his hands tangle at the back of your head, pushing just a bit more but never too much, your moans around his cock vibrating in sync with his own. And while he desperately wants to finish, wants to let go and bask in everything you are, he knows he needs to fully connect with you.

So, it’s the only sane action that he gently removes your head from him, lips leaving his cock with a satisfied pop. You’re undeniably beautiful, you always were, but seeing your glassy, slightly fucked-out eyes, lips beautifully swollen, and a light sheen of sweat coating your entire body, you look like a fairy granting him his last wish.

“Come here,” Jungkook guides you to him, and you fall into his arms as if compelled by a spell, though he reckons he’s just the same.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself, doesn’t know how to not kiss you stupid, or kiss himself stupid, but he doesn’t seem to have the will to question it any longer. Especially when your hand leaves his short hair, aimlessly reaching for the nightstand and conjuring a condom from the top drawer.

Jungkook takes the cue, blindly accepting the condom from your tender fingers, only checking briefly that it’s the right size, he rolls you both over, rips the packet open, and in no time secures the latex around his still-leaking cock. As your hands caress his arms and abs, your eyes locked onto his, it’s not the sight of your naked body beneath him that makes him want to cry. No, it’s your ethereal face and the look in your eyes that undoes him so gracefully. 

“Jungkook?” Your voice is as soft as ever, no tremble present, which makes him so proud. Proud that he’s obviously made you feel absolutely safe, safe in the way you make him feel too.

“Yes, love?”

The nickname makes you smile lovingly, clearly even more whipped for him as you suppress a giggle.

“I really love you,” you breathe, mesmerised to the point where Jungkook’s almost afraid you’re more in love with him than he is with you. Not that it matters, if he’s being honest.

“I love you more.”

The twitch of your brow makes him snicker, causing you to giggle as well. Jungkook captures your lips with a broad smile of his own, aligning his cock with your tiny hole, he pushes his hips in soft, careful rhythms until he’s fully nestled in your warmth. And as you, after a short breath, start to buck your hips against him, it’s his sign to get going, stroking his cock repeatedly against your tight walls. The wet squelches and your tiny cries of ecstasy are music to his ears, heart, and soul.

“Ah, Jungkook, god, there.”

He feels it, doesn’t need you to tell him. He can feel your walls clamp down on him. Still, he keeps going, needs to, both for your sake and his own.

“Come for me, love. Show me how good I make you feel,” he grunts in your ear, drowning in the scent of your hair as he keeps his pace strong and steady.

When you shatter beneath him, nails digging into the strained muscles of his back, Jungkook keeps going. He focuses, restrains himself, riding out your orgasm until your grip loosens around his frame.

“More?” he kisses our lips briefly, though they’re now only loosely parted.

“Yes.”

The moan that escapes your mouth is rather forced, but your eyes are still hungry.

So, Jungkook slips out, settling beside you and gently turning you onto your side as well, pulling you back against his chest. Lifting your leg over his, he pushes his cock back inside you from behind, thrusting into your dripping cunt without mercy while his hand finds your neck and jaw, tilting your head slightly so he can pamper you with kisses.

“Jungk-o-o-o-k,” you mewl as his other hand trails down to your clit, circling it in perfect rhythm with his thrusts.

“Yeah? Feels good?”

“So good. So good, Jungkook.”

And he feels the same, fantastic even, savouring every moment as he gradually builds his own orgasm.

“One more, love, hm?”

Jungkook drinks in the sight of you, your tits bouncing lightly, your eyes rolling back every few seconds, your tiny hands gripping his veiny arm, nails digging into his tattoos as you moan over and over again.

“Yes,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for him to let himself go too, letting his mind and body rise higher as he flies over the clouds with you right by his side.

“Fuck, ___, love, fuck,” he pants. Your walls haven’t stopped spasming around him for minutes, and his thrusts turn erratic as you both come together in a grand finale, gripping each other like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded on Earth.

The orgasm lasts far longer than Jungkook ever expected, though he wouldn’t trade even a second of it, not when you’re this perfect and he feels the same for you.

But eventually, even though he’s touched the sky with you, you both have to come back down. And as reluctant as he is to pull out, getting rid of the condom right after, it’s you he turns to, and always will.

Especially when the giggles you let out as he carries you to the shower are everything he needs for the rest of his life and beyond.

a/n 2: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

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[ye4gerz]

‧˚⭒ pairing: obsessive!mark x afab!reader 18+ MDNI ‧˚⭒ genre: smut! angst! ‧˚⭒ word count: 1k (sorry this one is longer than pt1😭) ‧˚⭒ cw: stalker / obsessive tendencies, m!masterbation, exhibitionist mark(once again lol), swearing, mark wants u sooo bad but you’re dating his best friend haechan, filming w/o the other party knowing.

» read part one here.

roommate mark who can’t help his secret crush on you. were you his best friend’s partner? yes. did that stop his feelings? absolutely not. he shared his space with donghyuck, aka your boyfriend, which only made things more complicated. there were certain times where mark caught himself staring at you a little too long, or perhaps his laugh lingered a bit too much after one of your jokes. he noticed—oh, he definitely noticed—the strange looks donghyuck would give him here and there. mark was fully aware of how it all looked, but he always tried his best to suppress it, burying his feelings deep where they couldn’t cause trouble.

what he didn’t expect, though, was to hear you in the room next to his, moaning his name.

interested and in pure shock, he froze. he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on you and hyuck’s intimate moment, but it had been so long since he’d last heard you like this, so needy and desperate. curiosity got the better of him, and he just wanted a better sense of what was happening—a clearer view, a clearer sound. he just wasn’t expecting to hear his name fall from your lips— not like this.

“mark…” he heard you moan, along with the silence that came after.

you said his name-not donghyuck's, but his. mark freezes, questioning if he heard you correctly, but the growing hardness between his legs confirms it. his breath hitches, his pulse quickening as his mind races. the silence from donghyuck's end only fuels his excitement, leaving mark to wonder what hyuck might do next-or if he'll do anything at all.

mark's thoughts spiral, dark and dangerous. he debates for a fleeting, reckless moment whether he should enter the room himself, finish what you started. the idea sends a shiver down his spine. he presses himself against the door, his head tipping forward as his hands brace against the frame. part of him just wants to hear you better, to catch every gasp and whisper, but the pressure offers him relief too, however fleeting.

his name. your voice. it echoes in his mind, over and over, unraveling him with every second, unaware of the true context behind it.

mark had his days where he would sneak off into hyuck’s room when no one was around. he’d find something of yours—a scarf, a stray hair tie, or even just a forgotten notebook—and hold it in awe, his fingers brushing over it like it was something sacred. sometimes, he’d take it back to his room, keeping it tucked away for later, when his thoughts would spiral, and his imagination would get the better of him. it was wrong, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. you were intoxicating, even when you weren’t there.

like that pair of panties you thought you lost during laundry? they weren’t lost—they were left in hyuck’s room, right there on his floor. the same floor mark found himself staring at, biting his lip, questioning his next move. at the time, no one was home. no one.

so he grabbed your underwear from the floor and locked himself in his room. he spent the entire night with it wrapped around his cock as he got off to your scent.

only you could drive him this mad, and only he knew the dirty things he’d dreamt of doing to you. thoughts he had no right to entertain, yet they crept in during the quiet moments—when the apartment was still, and your laughter echoed faintly in his memory. you were off-limits, unattainable, but that didn’t stop his mind from wandering, didn’t stop the way his heart raced whenever you so much as glanced his way.

now he can’t help himself as he hears donghyuck scolding you while his pace fastens. marks cock already sprung out and his bare hand jerking himself off to the same pace as your boyfriend’s thrusts.

“is this what you want? you want mark to hear how good i fuck you? who makes you feel this good, baby? hm?” haechan mutters, the sound of wet skin echoing through the door.

“y-yes… fuck- hyuckie….” you forget about mark’s presence for a second as your boyfriend is about to help you reach your orgasm. you couldn’t care less if mark heard you right now.

“wait for me baby, please,” mark groans, his wrists readjusting as he starts thrusting himself into his hand deeper.

i wish this was your pretty pussy taking my cock instead, baby, he thought to himself.

“i’m close hyuckie!” you warn.

mark fastens his pace once more, deliberately giving attention to his tip. he had it all figured out in his imagination. he was the reason for all your moans. you couldn’t help yourself but ride him stupid. your hands roaming all over his body, his chest, tugging at his hair. these thoughts were all too much for him to bare.

and just like that, after hearing all of your incoherent noises, you finally release, mark soon following after. sweat dripping off from his forehead, he cums into his hand, hard. he uses his other hand to ride out his high, still in his own world of you and him.

“y/n…” he lets out a weakened sigh, his head falling back nearly hitting the door against him.

he thought he would end it here. he’d rush to pull his pants back around his waist and disappear into his room, pretending none of this ever happened—until he heard donghyuck go at you again.

“you’re going to fucking take it like a good girl, okay? cmon baby, give me one more,” he hears your boyfriend guiding you, trying to keep you for another.

mark's knees almost gave out from the realization. your whimpers and pleas spilled through the thin walls, sounding like forbidden music to his ears. he's too sensitive to touch himself again, every nerve in his body overstimulated, yet he's terrified he'll miss out on this fleeting, intoxicating moment. so, he does the only thing he can think of-he presses himself closer to the wall, his breath hitching as he tries to catch every sound, every whisper of you that slips through.

mark confirmed everything tonight—he really is infatuated with you. there’s no denying it, not after hearing his name fall from your lips, not after the way his heart nearly stopped at the sound. every carefully buried feeling, every glance he tried to hide, every suppressed thought—all of it surged to the surface in a rush he couldn’t control.

that night continues with mark's phone pressed against your boyfriend's door, recording every sound that escapes. after what feels like hours, he loses count of how many times hyuck pulls those broken cries and moans from you. mark smiles softly to himself, his mind spinning with the idea of being one step closer to finally joining you two. the thought shouldn't comfort him-it shouldn't excite him-but it does, and he doesn't even try to stop it anymore.

[puff0o0]

All he could do was stare at the elevator a head of him, the green light shining as it highlights the cracks and foundation of the elevator. All he could do was hope that his light came back, the bright one that gave him life and happiness while they were down here.

He had been sitting in the same spot for days? weeks? To him, it had felt like forever. He had brought back so many crowbars, noticing them more and more as the days went by. He didn't notice them before you were here, but now they served as a symbol; a reminder. A reminder of what he had

His knees and legs ached from sitting in the same spot, his neck sore from how long he had it propped, hoping to meet your loving gaze when he heard the elevator ding and open. He imagined how happy he would be, how much love he would feel. But soon.. he realized he would never have that love again.

With a sad look on his face, disappointment and despair filling whatever was left of his heart as he stood, no longer needing to crawl around as you weren't coming back

But that elevator made a ding as soon as he stood, the doors opened and it revealed.. you! He processed it for a moment, staring at you, memorizing all the details and changes that had happened with you. Your hair was back to its normal color, you didn't have the bandages, you looked.. like his love

And he made sure you felt it as soon as you walked through those doors

[xoxoch3rry]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℙ𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕥

@ xoxoch3rry do not steal or translate my work.

Word count: 1,005

────

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: Violence, torture, regular criminal minds stuff.

Summary: The case goes wrong and Spencer's there to save you.

────⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆˖ ࣪⊹────

The case had seemed straightforward: infiltrate a suspected trafficking ring, gather intel, and leave without raising suspicion. You were one of the FBI's finest undercover agents, and this wasn’t your first high stakes assignment. But something about this one felt…off. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Spencer Reid asked, leaning against your desk in the bullpen. His concern was evident, his hazel eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. You smiled, trying to lighten the tension. “I’ll be fine, Spence. It’s just another day at work.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Be careful,” he said softly, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

The plan unraveled faster than you could have imagined. Your cover was blown within hours, and before you knew it, you were blindfolded and thrown into the back of a van. The next few days were a blur of pain and terror. The room where they kept you was cold, damp, and reeked of mildew. Your captors weren’t interested in negotiations or even interrogations—they wanted to break you. Torture was their game, and they played it well. “You think your team will save you?” one of them sneered, leaning close. “They don’t even know where you are.” You bit back a retort, refusing to give them the satisfaction of your fear. But inside, doubt crept in. Did they know where you were? Were they even looking?

Back at the BAU, Spencer was unraveling. The team had realized something was wrong when your scheduled check-in never came. The unsub’s profile was already on the board, but without knowing your location, they were running out of time. “She’s strong,” Emily Prentiss said, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “She’ll hold on until we get to her.” Spencer nodded, but his heart was heavy. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t think clearly. The thought of you in danger consumed him. It wasn’t just worry. It was something deeper, something he’d been too afraid to acknowledge. But now, faced with the possibility of losing you, he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

The pain was unbearable, but you clung to hope. Your team was the best, and if anyone could find you, it was them. Still, the days stretched on, each one darker than the last. One of your captors, a wiry man with a cruel smile, had taken a particular interest in you. “What’s it going to take, Agent?” he taunted during another grueling session. “How much more can you handle?” You didn’t answer, but the tears streaming down your face betrayed your resolve.

The breakthrough came on the fourth day. Garcia had hacked into a security feed from a remote warehouse in the middle of nowhere, and the footage showed a glimpse of you being dragged inside. “That’s it,” Spencer said, his voice sharp. “That’s where she is.” Hotch nodded. “We go in tonight.” Spencer insisted on going with the extraction team, despite Hotch’s initial hesitation. “I need to be there,” he argued. “For her.” Hotch finally relented. “Stay close, and don’t take unnecessary risks.”

The sound of the explosion was deafening, shaking the walls of your prison. Shouts and gunfire echoed through the building, and you barely had the strength to lift your head. You heard the unmistakable command: “FBI! Drop your weapons!” Hope flared in your chest, but your body was too weak to react. You slumped against the wall, the weight of exhaustion pulling you under. “Where is she?” Spencer’s voice rang out, frantic and desperate. Footsteps pounded closer, and then, there he was. Spencer Reid stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his eyes wild with worry. “Spence,” you croaked, your voice barely audible. In an instant, he was at your side, his hands gently cradling your face. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re safe now.” Tears streamed down his cheeks as he untied your restraints. “I’ve got you,” he repeated, as if saying it would make it true.

At the hospital, the team hovered around your room, each offering words of encouragement. But Spencer never left your side. “You should rest,” you said weakly, your voice hoarse from days of screaming. “I’m not going anywhere,” he replied firmly, his hand clasping yours. You studied him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the tension in his jaw. “Spence, I’m okay.” “You’re not,” he said, his voice breaking. “You’re not okay. And it’s my fault.” “What? No—” “I should have stopped you,” he interrupted. “I should have—” You squeezed his hand, cutting him off. “Spencer, listen to me. This wasn’t your fault. You saved me.” He looked away, his shoulders shaking. “I almost lost you,” he whispered. “But you didn’t,” you said firmly. “I’m here. Because of you.” He hesitated, then turned back to you, his eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said, his voice soft but steady.

You nodded, encouraging him to continue. “I love you,” he confessed, the words tumbling out as if he’d been holding them back for years. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I was too afraid to say anything. But when I thought I might never see you again…” Your breath caught, and tears filled your eyes. “Spencer…” “I know this isn’t the right time,” he said quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “But I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it in anymore.” You reached for his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. “It’s the perfect time,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “Because I love you too.” The relief on his face was palpable, and for the first time in days, a genuine smile broke through the tension. He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss. “I’ll never let anything happen to you again,” he promised, his forehead resting against yours.

And at that moment, despite everything you’d been through, you knew it was true. With Spencer by your side, you felt unbreakable.

[cheshiresense]

Starrk time travels with Ichigo to TBTP is everything I never knew I needed! The pain of surviving again, of still being too strong to die- to give up and rest with Shunsui is chef’s kiss beautiful.

I have questions, ideas, thoughts- feel free to ignore any of them lol. First is do you think Hollows/Arrancars have pack instincts/pack bonds. I can imagine the horrible aching emptiness of reaching for friends and family who aren’t there anymore. Pack is forever, should be forever- but now they have to go on looking in the faces of people who loved them once and see nothing in their eyes. No pack bond or instincts that used to link them.

Second is do you think Starrk and Ichigo would eventually start napping together once they settle in a bit more? Starrk might be able to control it now, but I feel like there would be something reassuring about the fact that Ichigo could take it, wouldn’t buckle under the pressure. And then there’s the fact they’re the only ones who know, who understand the weight of it all.

Third is do you have an idea of who you’d ship Ichigo with in this au? I myself am partial to Koyonagi, but I can also see Shinji noticing something off and prowling around like the big cat he pretends he isn’t to investigate. I also imagine that not a few people would assume Starrk and Ichigo are in a relationship lol.

Lastly is I think it would be really interesting if Starrk and Ichigo ended up in the same division, especially since the draw to join the Eighth would be even more tempting. Do you think they’d stick together or try to spread out to be able to investigate/access more.

Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! And I haven't even gotten to the ShunStarrk parts yet but the prospect of it is incentive to write more lmao.

This got a bit long so I'll shove it under the cut:

1) I haven't thought much on this particular aspect of Hollows, although I do see it around a lot, it seems a pretty common headcanon. I def do think they have pack instincts, because even in canon you see Harribel and Grimmjow and others forming "packs" but idk if I'd go all the way to pack bonds. For me it would prob depend on where I want to take that particular fic. In this AU, I imagine Hollows do have pack instincts (again, that's basically canon) and Hollows in general are more sensitive to the reiatsu of pack members, but Starrk's gone so long without them that he's used to the pain of not having anyone. Plus he's like part wolf so I think that makes it worse, but after a thousand years he's probably numb to it. Then of course he got Shunsui for a while, and I imagine he kind of adopted the Fourth as his own and probably a few other Shinigami he'd grown close to, and now all of them are gone. He's in the same situation as Ichigo and grieving that loss, but it prob also feels physically worse for him. He knows what it's like to have pack now, and then he loses them all, and yeah he can sense Shunsui's reiatsu signature halfway across the Seireitei, and half the Fourth is a comfortable bubble at the edge of his awareness, but at the same time, they're not the same and his instincts can tell that too, so it's basically just a constant reminder of everything he no longer has. But he has a thousand years of experience at ignoring this sort of thing, and it's easy to fall back on it, he has to fall back on it because it's not like he can do anything about it anyway. His people, his pack, are gone, and like all the other things he was never able to change over the course of his long life, he can only resign himself to it and shoulder it as best he can.

But Shunsui in particular is a relentless ache in his chest, at the back of his mind, in the pulse of his very reiatsu, like pressure on a bruise on the days he can force himself to ignore it, like a gushing wound when he can't. It's still okay when he's at the Academy and doesn't actually have to see the man. Then Ichigo goes and picks up a stray who just so happens to be Shunsui's family, damn you too Mimihagi may you suffer from carpal tunnel for the rest of eternity, and because his luck has never been what anyone would call good, Starrk's practically expecting it the first time Ichigo awkwardly pesters him into joining their tutoring sessions behind the Eighth Division compound because Ichigo's excellent at Shunpou but he's never quite managed Yoruichi's flawless execution of it, and even before they'd become allies, Starrk's Sonido had been her equivalent, which had seamlessly translated over to Hohou once he'd gained the ability to learn it. Fujiwara's decent enough at it for an Academy student, but still far too slow for Ichigo's liking and also stupidly clumsy and Ichigo can't for the life of him figure out why, so can Starrk please come take a look and see if he can spot the problem or just tell him that there is no problem and all Academy students are just hopeless like this. Starrk wants to say no, but for all that Ichigo gets irritated with his own family for not being able to take no for an answer, the kid himself is actually no better than them, he's just a little more self-conscious about it, but the family resemblance is definitely there beyond just the appearance. Repeatedly refusing would take energy Starrk doesn't have, and he supposes it's nice too to see Ichigo starting to make friends again in this time period, starting to look past his grief. Starrk knows if he really puts his foot down, Ichigo will back off, but he doesn't want to set the kid back in case Ichigo gets the idea to also return to being a perpetual shut-in just because Starrk is, and if that means indulging Ichigo's whims, then so be it. He'd been sent back to serve as babysitter anyway so he may as well do the whole thing properly. And because his luck is just like that, the first time he goes, he finds that Ichigo has already somehow managed to lure his nosy Shiba cousin, his cousin's captain, and the Eighth Division captain Starrk's Shinigami but no he isn't not really not anymore never again to the training grounds even though it's the middle of the afternoon and they should all be at work. At least, judging by the disgruntled expression on Ichigo's face, this hadn't been Ichigo's idea of a good time either. Familiar grey eyes meet his from across the clearing, and for a moment, Starrk is certain someone's ripped his heart out again, leaving only an empty gaping hole in its wake once more, but a thousand times worse than it had ever felt when he'd still been just a Hollow and had never known anything else.

-

2) Honestly Ichigo already spends like 70% of his time in Starrk's room, his own is there just to gather dust and like fake out Kaien cuz the guy either hasn't thought to or at least still has enough manners to refrain from invading Starrk's room too (for now). So like two weeks into the Academy and Ichigo spending five days out of seven crashing on Starrk's floor, Starrk just gives up and goes out to buy an extra futon (and even more pillows because he's a pillow fiend and you can never have too many in his opinion) and Ichigo basically moves in after that. It's definitely comforting for both of them to have the other close by, especially Ichigo because his reikaku abilities are still hit or miss some days. Starrk can relax because his control hasn't been anything less than perfect since his Aizen days but occasionally he still worries about slipping up, except Ichigo is one of the few who can bear the brunt of it so it wouldn't matter even if he does. And Ichigo can relax because he's never really been one for subterfuge, it's actually killing him a little that he can't just bust out his Bankai and either beat Aizen to death or beat some sense into him over the skies of Soul Society like the good old days, but there's nothing he has to hide from Starrk, and Starrk's one of the ones - the only one left now - who's seen Ichigo at his very worst, and likewise it would take a lot of conscious effort on his part to actually hurt Starrk. Lashing out in the midst of a nightmare would wake Starrk but otherwise wouldn't even make him blink.

They can lower their guard around each other in a way they can't anywhere else outside of their room, and with Starrk's habit of carpeting most of the floor with soft things to sleep on, it's only natural to go to sleep next to each other and wake up - in the middle of the night or in the early morning when dawn hasn't even broken yet because it's easier to stare at the ceiling than spend another minute dreaming of faces they'll never truly see again - the same way. Neither of them really moves much when unconscious, and their instincts mark each other as safe, so these days, they sleep best in each other's company.

(This aches too though, sometimes, even though Starrk won't ever voice such a thing out loud. But sleeping with someone else beside him, even when they don't touch beyond an accidental brush of shoulders or a nightmare-fueled flail of a limb digging into his gut, reminds him of another warm body he'd spent close to a decade sleeping beside, half-draped over him or plastered against his back or letting him curl around them in return. It's another thing he'll never have again, but that's hardly Ichigo's fault, and he knows the kid doesn't do well alone either - who in this world does? - so Starrk's hardly going to say anything that would definitely chase Ichigo away because the kid's stupid like that. He locks the sense-memories behind his teeth instead, even when it keeps him up all night or wakes him in the morning just to make him feel like shit all over again when he remembers where and when he is. And it's not always bad. In this era, Ichigo is the only truly familiar thing that doesn't make Starrk's instincts bristle, which means he can sleep more deeply than he would allow himself anywhere else, and that's a comfort in and of itself.)

-

3) This I actually don't know, even in SP I don't really have a ship for Ichigo. But ship candidates are a dime a dozen for him lol. Kisuke's always my go-to for him but I guess he hasn't really been that prominent, although I can def steer things that way. I've written a few KoyoIchi so that's def also a possibility. Shinji is equally likely, and if they could give past!Aizen future!Aizen's memories, I could even pull off AiIchi, although if they could do that, I'd just do the same with Shunsui and then we would have less angst lmao. And it might be weird but I'm not opposed to Ichigo/Asuka but in a platonic neither of us are interested in other ppl and don't want to be bothered by marriage offers so let's just get engaged and it'll even be good for clan politics close friends sort of way. They might develop feelings for each other sometime down the road, but arranged marriage AU would be how it would start (this is actually a wip idea I've had for a long time that I've just never written). Also I just feel like Starrk would be vaguely amused by how they both got attached to Kyourakus (or Kyouraku-adjacent I guess), like what is it about that family 😂 But yeah nothing really concrete yet. Ppl might assume that Starrk and Ichigo are a thing because Ichigo doesn't hang out with anyone else at first, and Starrk basically only leaves school grounds to accompany Ichigo somewhere, but I imagine that would clear up after like thirty minutes of watching them interact, esp once Rangiku and Asuka and Gin are more permanent fixtures in their group and Starrk's just trailing after them like a long-suffering dad, the generational gap would be pretty obvious.

-

4) Oh man I've definitely thought about this. So unlike SP where Ichigo's like It Is My Duty To Go To The Fifth Just To Keep An Eye On Aizen's Shenanigans Even If That Means Self-Inflicted Emotional Torture The Entire Time, Starrk puts a stop to that nonsense in this AU. He doesn't actually care where Ichigo wants to go, Ichigo can take care of himself even if Aizen breaks cover and goes all traitor on them a hundred years early, and he's not here to tell the kid what to do anyway, but when Ichigo's waffling between the Eighth or the Fifth, and it becomes pretty fucking clear that he only wants to go to the Fifth because he thinks he has to, because there's no other way to keep track of Aizen, and he starts getting tunnel vision the way he does when he's brooding and obsessing over protecting people, that's when Starrk steps in.

"It's one thing if you want to go because you want to," Starrk says, watching the kid pace their room like a caged tiger. "But I don't think you do, not with the way you behave around Hirako. Besides, are you even going to be able to get anything done when you'll be constantly stressed out by being so close to Aizen?" He pauses, then adds with a ghost of a smile, "And then there's the fact that you're a really bad liar."

Ichigo swings around to splutter indignantly at him. "I am not! I can lie!"

Starrk shrugs. "Good enough to fool Hirako and Aizen when they'll be right there observing you up close every single day?"

Ichigo opens his mouth, then closes it again. Good, at least he's self-aware.

Starrk lets him think it over for a moment, tracking the conflicted shift of emotions across Ichigo's face - and he wants to play spy in front of the likes of Aizen like this? - before continuing quietly, "This is it, you know."

Ichigo blinks at him, thrown by the non-sequitur.

Starrk sighs and leans back against the windowsill at his back, slanting his gaze to the sky outside, winter-pale but clear. "What we're doing--it isn't a job with an end date. We don't get to go back home once we're done. There's no home to go back to."

In his peripheral, Ichigo is suddenly very still.

"This is it," Starrk repeats without taking his eyes off the distant horizon. "And you gain nothing from focusing all your energy on one man who won't even be showing his hand anytime soon. If anything, finding out you're suspicious of him will only move up his timeline or cause him to do something drastic, and then we might not be able to predict him at all. And that's not even getting into what the Quincy might do if you show your hand too soon, with or without their king. But even that's beside the point."

He turns back to Ichigo, taking in the weary grief in the furrow of his brow and the bitter curve of his mouth, and he knows Ichigo already understands. Still, he finishes as gently as he knows how, "This is where we live now, and maybe it isn't home yet, but maybe it's time to start thinking about what it will take to make it one. How do you want to live, Ichigo? Once everything is over, what kind of life will you have built for yourself by then? Or will you let Aizen dictate that too?"

A minute flinch ripples across Ichigo's shoulders. Starrk presses on, as ruthless as he'd learned from Aizen, from Shunsui even more. "Will you let him hound you all the way to your final grave? Or will you let Yhwach do it again? Your mother died to save you. Your friends died protecting you. Is their love for you only worth yet another suicide run at a bunch of madmen and would-be-gods? Do you think that this was all you were worth to them?"

Ichigo flinches again, and for a split second, his expression scrunches like he wants to take a swing at Starrk.

Starrk waits him out, because Ichigo isn't an idiot, but sometimes, it's like he just can't understand certain things without them being spelled out for him. And some things, Starrk thinks, should be heard, should be said.

He wonders if anyone's ever told this kid that he's allowed to live for himself too.

(He also wonders how much of a hypocrite every word coming out of his mouth right now is going to make him in the future.

But it's different, with Ichigo. Starrk is over a thousand years old. At this point, going to his grave isn't a big deal. But Ichigo hasn't even reached three decades, and he's spent a solid ten of those years on one battlefield or another. If one of them has to die at the end of all this, it definitely shouldn't be Ichigo.

This kid needs to learn how to live. There's no time like the present to start, and if that means Starrk has to hit where it hurts, well, infections must be lanced sooner or later.)

At last, Ichigo's shoulders slump, and he deflates like a balloon, anger and hurt deserting him, leaving only exhaustion in their wake.

"Sometimes, you sound so much like Kyouraku-san it's scary," Ichigo informs him, flopping bonelessly onto a nearby pile of pillows.

Starrk says nothing. If that had been meant to hurt, well, he probably deserves it.

"Aizen does need to be watched," Ichigo persists, but he sounds almost relieved at the possibility that he won't have to be the one to do it.

Starrk grunts dismissively. "I can sense him from here. I know when he's in his office, and when he leaves a double and takes off for Rukongai. I think that's enough for now."

Ichigo's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "His hypnosis isn't affecting you?"

Starrk tips a glance at him. "The soul remembers. It doesn't affect you either, does it?"

"That's true," Ichigo concedes. "But wait, did he never show you his Shikai? Or you touched his blade somehow?"

"My reiatsu ate it," Starrk summarizes succinctly, then clarifies with a flicker of exasperation at the wide-eyed look he gets, "His hypnosis, not his blade. He never put much effort into hypnotizing the Espada, just enough to make sure we'd obey without too much fuss. And when it comes down to it, even Zanpakutou abilities is just reiatsu cast in a specific shape. It was easy enough to get rid of it after I was whole again."

He thinks of Lilynette and breathes through that particular ache, old now, more scar than open wound, but there all the same.

Ichigo makes a comprehending sound. "That's pretty handy. Can your reiatsu eat it if it's cast on someone else?"

Starrk nods. He'd done as much for Shunsui, and a few others as necessary. Aizen had never been able to affect the Captain-Commander again after he'd been let out of Muken. And for all that they'd been nominally on the same side, Aizen had actually tried a few times. Starrk thinks he'd probably just wanted to see if he could, because after each attempt, he'd turn and look at Starrk with something like amusement and something like contempt.

(Once, he'd remarked in private that Starrk certainly had a preference for kneeling at the feet of Shinigami masters, and he'd asked what made Shunsui the better one to serve, if perhaps he also should've forced Starrk to spread his legs for him, if that would've succeeded in breaking Starrk further, in making him even more eager to please, as much as Shunsui had clearly accomplished with him.

Shunsui had overheard. On hindsight, Starrk's fairly certain Aizen had wanted him to, had waited for him to get close enough to hear everything, though for what purpose even Starrk hadn't been able to figure out, because the resulting confrontation hadn't been pretty. It'd been one of the few times Starrk had seen his Shinigami lose his temper, his wrath a silent deadly creature no one would expect, and in that moment, the shadows around them had almost devoured Aizen whole. They'd certainly left their mark in the aftermath, Aizen's flesh cracked open with scars as black as the void. Even then, Starrk doesn't think Aizen had truly been intimidated, but he'd also never said another word of the sort to Starrk ever again.)

"I'd have to get closer to detect his more intricate workings," Starrk admits. "But I think between that and being able to sense him, it's enough of a safeguard without needing to join the Fifth as well. There isn't much of a point to that anyway. It's not like we don't already have a general idea of what he's doing, or where he's doing it. He isn't the sort to leave evidence lying around either so I doubt you'd be able to gather any."

He glances at Ichigo again, finally letting himself relax when he sees the kid nodding along, albeit with a rather grumpy expression.

"For now," Starrk concludes. "It's best to establish our presence here in this time, make connections, make allies, and eventually make sure we have enough people on our side to tip the scales in our favour. Aizen is one thing, but even the two of us can't take down the entire Wandenreich on our own. When the time comes, there must be people willing to believe us even without concrete proof of the Quincy's existence."

He catches Ichigo's eye, intent to get this point across, if nothing else. "No matter how powerful, there is only so much one can do alone. And you are not alone, Ichigo."

Ichigo's face crumples a little, and for a half a heartbeat, Starrk is terrified he's about to cry. Thankfully, that doesn't happen, and a moment later, Ichigo nods, his eyes a little brighter now, his shoulders a little less weighed down.

"Okay," Ichigo says decisively. "Then… I think I want to go to the Eighth." He smiles a bit wryly. "You're both bastards, but somehow, I like that about you guys. And if it's Kyouraku-san, it wouldn't be hard to work under his command."

He stops and grows more solemn, his gaze a little too sympathetic this time. "Will you join the Eighth too?"

"No," Starrk doesn't hesitate. He's already thought about it, had already made up his mind months ago, even before he'd met Shunsui again. His answer had only cemented further after meeting him. Besides, "I'm going to the Fourth."

He thinks of the agreement he'd hashed out with Mimihagi. He thinks of one of the things that had immediately come to mind when time travel of all things had been proposed to him. He thinks of the things he can do, the things he can create.

He thinks of the life he'd bargained for.

"Back in our time," Starrk only says in the end, meeting Ichigo's gaze calmly. "I was told by everyone who knew her that Unohana-taichou was the best healer in living memory. Now she is alive again, so that's what I want. I want to learn from her."

Ichigo snickers, oblivious. "Well, you are a huge medical nerd so I should've known. So long as you're happy I guess. Try not to take over the division again within the year. I wouldn't bet on your odds against Unohana-san."

Starrk rolls his eyes because honestly Kotetsu had practically gift-wrapped her division for him, he hadn't meant to take over, he hadn't even been a halfway respectable healer at the time, he'd just been strong, with the manpower to support the actual healers, and apparently, that'd been enough. He'd been horrified when Shunsui had sided with them.

Ichigo laughs outright, Starrk shakes his head, and with their choices made, the future begins to take shape once more.

[takumiraine]

Once Upon A Time chapter 5

<first> <prev> <next>

Jason Todd knew it was only a matter of time until his bubble burst and one of his brothers found out what he was getting up to. He was just hoping he could pull it off for a little longer. Even though the pit still reacted at the strangest times, he felt calmer, more normal, than he had in years. He wanted to hold it close and make sure nobody could take it from him.

From Replacement: you went back to college? Does B know?

Fuck.

—

Danny had been wary at first. Rich boy Jason Todd-Wayne in his college classes. The man was older than Jazz, though not by much, and a freshman with him. Either the guy was a bad influence or Danny just had really shitty luck.

He and the universe both knew the answer to than one really. But 60 bucks a week to reteach the guy basic math and Jason always gave him dinner in the deal? Danny wasn’t going to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. If there was one thing Danny had forgotten during the past almost two years it was how hungry his human side got. Not having money and being on the run meant opportunities to eat were few and far between.

What Danny didn’t expect was how sarcastic and assholish the rich guy could be. He loved trading snark. Danny assumed that it came from them both having older siblings. But between that and the half formed core that was slowly shoring up, Danny found himself growing attached. He had missed having friends. Getting to talk to Sam, Tucker and rarely Jazz through a conspiracy message board wasn’t enough. Most of the time it was just a way to make sure that nobody had been captured by the GIW. They had a way to pass longer messages but to do that too often would be suspicious.

“So I don’t get it,” Danny said, gesturing at Jason with some fries almost a month into tutoring, “What do people actually do at Galas? The tabloid pics just show a bunch of people in uncomfortable looking suits standing around with champagne.”

“….thats really it. It’s boring as shit.” Jason kicked his chair back on two legs, leaning against the wall. “If I liked you less I’d invite you.”

“If you liked me less?”

“Oh yeah. Because then you’d have to meet my brothers, the assorted not quite adopteds, my dad and scarier yet, our butler.” Danny choked on his laugh.

“Your butler is the scary one in that situation?”

“Alfred is like a ghost. Always there when you turn around.” Jason put on the accent “Master Jason, you really must come home more. Nobody quite enjoys my cooking like you.” He let the chair legs settle on the floor. “Now imagine that from behind you in a dark kitchen at two am while you’re half drunk and trying to make a sandwich.”

“Okay, yeah, I could see it being that scary. My sister was….” Shit he hadn’t meant to mention Jazz. “She was the only one who cared sometimes.” May as well rip that bandaid off.

“Yeah?” Jason asked, taking a drink from his coffee cup. “Didn’t know you had a sister.”

“My family and I don’t see each other anymore. It’s for the best.” He hoped Jason wouldn’t ask more questions, because ‘my parents sold me out to the government that only knew where I was because of the Justice League which is why I hate them and by association your dad, and now my sister is in hiding in a different state with a new identity’ was way too difficult to explain. “I left before they could kick me out.”

Danny watched Jason’s face twist into a frown. “Bigots suck. Sorry man.”

“Yeah…. Well…” Danny busied himself with finishing his burger. Then, once he chewed and swallowed. “Wait. Is your dad the one that fell into the champagne tower last year?”

Jason groaned, “he’s not always like that I promise.”

“No I get it. A weird ‘Family Friend’ invited us to his fancy party so he could hit on my mom once. I accidentally on purpose took out the entire buffet table including a cheese fountain so we had to go home.”

“Cheese fountain?”

“You know those chocolate fountains?” Danny asked. Jason nodded. “Like that, but with fondue cheese instead. And before you ask why, all I can say is it was in Wisconsin.”

Jason watched him with an unreadable expression for a moment, and Danny assumed he was processing it, because when the expression broke, Jason was laughing.

He looked so much younger when he laughed like that, and Danny remembered that they had both had, in their own ways, a rough life. “Yeah. I know. I was finding cheese in the weirdest places for weeks.”

“Did you get invited back?” Danny’s heart ached with the fact that a month or so later, Everything Fell Apart.

“No… I…” he cut himself off, remembering the horrified looks his parents gave him as their weapons, the ones he fixed, were turned against the ‘beast’ that ‘possessed’ their son. The looks mimicking the ones they gave him when the party screeched to a halt as he did his best impression of a Scooby Doo villain being unmasked. The screams of shock turning into ones of horror. The -

“-anny? Danny?” He blinked and shook his head.

“What? Oh, sorry.” He took another drink from the coffee, emptying the cup. “No. I never was asked back. You done?” He looked at their empty plates and grabbed the tray. “We should get to the library. Though I’m sure someone as good looking as you has plenty, these x-es won’t find themselves.” He was overcompensating for zoning out now, words coming out faster than normal.

“Yeah… are… you okay?” Jason asked, as Danny bussed their tray and grabbed his backpack, a backpack bought by his tutoring money. A tutoring gig he desperately did not want to fuck up with his own bullshit.

“Me? Fine. More than. I just zone out sometimes. Come on.” Danny’s words were still coming out too fast. He took a few breaths during the couple seconds Jason took getting his things, trying to ground himself as much as possible. He was going to be normal. He was going to be normal if it killed him. Again.

The walk to the library was quiet and Danny was thankful for that. He needed to get his head on straight if he was going to be any help to Jason and he still had his own homework to do after. As they walked in, both Danny and Jason instinctively looked towards the desk where Barbara usually worked, but she wasn’t there, some other guy was checking in books with quiet beeps.

Danny had learned over the last month that while Dick, Tim and Damian were Jason’s official siblings, Barbara was an unofficial one and he liked her the most.

It made sense, since she didn’t seem to pry into Jason’s life the way Jazz would have if she was here. Not that he would have minded her prying for how much he missed her, but four years ago he would have hated it.

—

Jason knew the haunted and hunted look that had settled into Danny’s eyes. The way he trailed off into something vacant. How his breathing seemed to get stuck in his chest. Which is why he tried to interrupt the cycle before he could spiral. Something big happened to him, and Jason knew he wouldn’t want to break down in a cafe in front of people.

Thankfully he seemed to snap out of it quickly, instead overcompensating into energetic. The message was clear. ‘Don’t ask about what just happened.’ Carefully, Jason let Danny lead him into the library, aware of his positioning and making sure not to follow too far behind or loom too much. Considering he had at least six inches on Danny, that last part was hard, but he tried.

He could feel the pit spiraling in him, circling and coiling like a dragon deep in his chest. Itching to do…. Something. It wasn’t punch or claw or fight. This was new. He didn’t like it in the slightest.

He looked over to where Babs usually was, then remembered she had a class, criminal justice degree, how apt, as he and Danny went towards what was now their spot. Jason found he had the sudden impulse to pull Danny’s chair out for him, and shoved that particular useless idea back down into the abyss it belonged in.

—

Danny looked over at Jason who stood at the edge of the table looking…. Angry? Confused? and pulled out his own books. “I promise, my zoning out isn’t contagious.” He said, looking up at Jason and kicking the chair across from him out from under the table for Jason to sit. He gave a wry smile, “if it was, I don’t think anyone in my high school would have made it.”

Jason snorted a laugh, snapping out of whatever thoughts he had been thinking. Jason pulled the chair out further and sat, sitting more comfortably than he used to. More of the true Jason, Danny was realizing, less of the person he was supposed to be. In another lifetime…. But no. He couldn’t… not while he was being hunted. It wouldn’t be fair to Jason to have to hide such a huge part of himself and his past.

Not to mention he hadn’t ever come out to Jazz and his friends. Well he had…. But more in the ‘hey I’m dead but not really’ way and less in the ‘so I like guys’ way.

But in spite of those barriers, this tentative friendship with Jason was enough to keep him happy.

Which made the next kick in the teeth from the universe completely expected.

All he had wanted was to walk home in peace. Sure it was almost midnight, in Gotham, but still. He made it most of the way, and was slinking through the Bowery when it happened.

Guys with dark clothes and weapons were suddenly in front of him. He turned only to see more at his back. There had to be five in total? Or was it six? Danny didn’t have time to count.

“Hey guys.” He hedged, muscles tensing as he raised his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to get home. Long walk and all that. If I could just…. Scooch past you?” Danny took a step to do just that and the lead goon swung at him with a baton.

He hopped back slightly, dodging the hit when it came. “Not a chance. Boss needs some…. Help with his latest ideas. You’re coming with us.”

Danny ran through his options in his head. Option 1: get kidnapped. Option 2: get the shit kicked out of him. Option 3: beat the shit out of them and get labeled as a possible bat to be or possible rogue to be. Option 4: go fully ghost and either escape unscathed but wind up more firmly on the GIW’s radar.

Option two or three would wind up happening, because he wasn’t going to put himself at the mercy of the Bat-ass again, and he wasn’t going to offer himself up on a silver platter to the GIW.

The moment one tried to grab him, Danny dodged out of the way, and that seemed to bring the goons on him en masse. They seemed well practiced, but considering it was Gotham, there wasn’t a big surprise there. The next few minutes were a flurry of elbows and knees, punches and kicks, batons and clubs.

Danny would dodge and counter, disarm one and fling their weapon across the street. He would have sore ribs and bruises from his elbows to his knuckles come morning but he was slowly winnowing them down. He had a brief thought about the conservation of ninjutsu, as the fewer goons there were the stronger they seemed to get. The realistic answer was they were less concerned with hurting each other when there were fewer of them, he knew that. But everything was more fun with ninjas.

When there were three left, one threw a punch that connected with his nose. There was a pop and crunch and a hot rush of blood down his face even before the pain set in. He spat out the blood that collected in his mouth from the way his head snapped back when he was punched. Another one came at him, and his own years of training caught the guy’s arm, judo throwing them into another look and sending them both careening into a wall. The move was trickier with gravity, but he made it work.

Danny looked up at the last remaining goon. He grinned, teeth too sharp and stained with his own blood, eyes glowing just the faintest green. “Run.”

They did.

Unfortunately for the goon, they ran smack into the chest of one Batman.

[accio-victuuri]

THE Life of Us/Drifting MUSIC VIDEO IS AMAZING 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

I think one can make an entire essay long post trying to explain what the scenes could mean. I’m glad that XZ was able to meet and work with a director like LIN who was able to execute this. I can only imagine the creative ideas XZ had for this and to have someone understand his vision and bring it to life is special. It’s so obvious the time, effort and money spent on this and we got it for free. The entire album is free to listen to. I just. Everything about this drop is such a slap to the antis who said it will be 9 covers and 1 original song but XZ goes bitch hold my beer lemme give all original songs and high quality music videos. oh wait, let me write some of the songs too. let me put in some details in my life there just to make it fun. how about that?!

which leads me to those said details/references that someone has compiled. i’m gonna share it here. 📝

P1: the person climbing a ladder in the clouds is something he drew before. I’m proud of him cause this idea of his has been realized. this reminds me of jack and the beanstalk!

P2: the books are design related. i’d like to think it’s his favorite go-to books!

P4: Knitting yarn! XZ knits!

P5: this is pretty obvious and recurring theme when it comes him - the little prince 🌹

P6: more of a comparison from when he was designer xz to now. he was wearing something similar.

P7: Life of Us = Life of Pi. Which is explained more in P8. OP mention that the main character Pi said when writing in his diary: "Everything has become chaotic and broken, I can no longer distinguish between daydreams, sleep, and reality.” The movie/book is a story about a young man who survived a shipwreck and drifted on the sea.but the deeper level seems to be a discussion about human nature, animal nature, and divinity. It’s about the struggle between ego, id, and superego.That tiger may be Pi's heart. What is drifting on the sea, for Pi, is me and "I"; and Pi, It seems to be the epitome of every "us". Finally, Pi told more than one version of the story, and he asked: "Which version do you prefer?" In fact, the choice of the story has always been "me".

"Life of Us/Drifting" sings "What is a dream, what is my greatest fear" "What is a dream, what is what I want most" It’s a question about your own heart, and only you can give the answer.

P9: that scene in the movie ET

additional ones, his favorite paper plane making an appearance and a similar shot from the animated film castle in the sky.

and i noticed that one take where you can see some vintage things like the telephone, but i realized that xz is almost the same age as me so these are things we grew up using!

i’m sure there are more details here and not to mention the hidden meanings too. but that is what makes this video so fun to watch multiple times! you can discover something new each time! I hope they release some behind the scenes on how this was created and all that. i think there should be a documentary of sorts connected to this album if i remember correctly. so yeah! so much more in store for is when it comes to this album 😊

[itwdoris]

HI WAWA! 👋Hope you are doing well! Which character/s do you think would start checking reader’s panties every time after discovering they wears cutesy panties with ribbons🎀

Would they be the type to guess the color LMAO!!!! would be hot if he also likes the idea of us just pissing on it after all the effort of us picking what to wear for the day :(

Have a nice day! Always love interacting with you!❤️

oh, gojo. because you can see his nostrils flaring over and over again because he can almost feel it, taking a deep breath every time you pass him, imagining how cute the little ribbons are on your ass, with agitated eyes capturing your every move intently just to see if he can get any clues.

but if he gets bored of just watching, he'll certainly come up to you, kick some color and make you bend over just to check it out, raising or lowering your clothes until he's satisfied his curiosity. running his hand, his long fingers against the fabric to feel it, with his own cock semi-hard in his pants if he got it right.

cuz he may or may not have checked all the items in your panty drawer, so pff, he's almost never wrong.

then in addition to having all his cum on your cute panties, satoru loves to make you hold in your pee until you can't hold it in any longer, he loves to see how it gets even cuter with a wet spot getting bigger with every leak, he loves to circle his finger there.

seeing you red-faced with shame after having pissed yourself in front of him, with your soaked panties dripping, cute ribbons all wet, his cock gets so hard.

"s-satoru- " you whimpered, so messy against the table that clearly didn't look like it was made to withstand that kind of activity, as it creaked and swayed with every hard thrust. "ngh-nh, gojo-"

"y-you just pissed yourself in front of me, wet my hand, with these ribbons all cute, and expect me to go gently? " he buried himself as deep as he could, getting to the base, holding the wet fabric to the side so that he had space to sink into your hole, grinning. "fucking no."

nah, now he would fuck you until you cream his cock the way he likes and knows how, and then you'll get his cum all over your cute ribbons.

he can be gently later, when he goes to choose the panties you'll wear for him to get dirty again.

well, what about a blue one?

OH HI!! hope i did well, cuz i loved the prompt! ( there were so many characters, i didn't know which one to choose, my lord- also, he'll go crazy if you wear a blue one and say its for him, bc reminds you of his eyes. poor dick gonna cum untouched.

anyway, love interacting with u too! i know its just a thirst, but hope you like it! <3

[letmerideitchris]

𐬺𝐕𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐𐬺

summary: Chris matt and nick get a new videographer, she is funny, smart and pretty, basically everything Chris could ever want in a girl. Chris finds it impossible to not fall for her…

Warnings: angst, yelling, cursing, mentions of killing (in a joking way)

Wc: 1009

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

“Chris would you like to tell us what the fuck we just walked in on?” matt says sternly

Y/n had previously left the house out of embarrassment to what nick and matt had walked into.

“does anyone know where some bleach is? My eyes need some” nick says looking around

“guys you're being dramatic, I'm sorry i couldn’t resist, she’s everything i have ever wanted” chris says as he looks down at the floor

“that is the least of our problems right now, shes meant to be coming over tomorrow to film a vlog for us, that is going to be so awkward thanks to you dick face” nick says hitting chris’ shoulder

“yeah chris, you need to sort it out and apologize because you are runing it for us”

“but I'm not sorry and i am quite looking forward to seeing her tomorrow even though it will be awkward…” Chris says slightly smiling at the thought of her

“im not sure if shes looking forward to seeing you, she just ran away” matt says looking at the open front door y/n previously left through.

“chris you make me want to kill you, is it hard being this dumb?”

“guys can you show some sort of sympathy? Like imagine the girl of your dreams is actually interested in you and then your brothers walk in on you fucking and she runs out of embarrassment?” chris says

“No i actually cannot imagine that i am gay if you forgot dumb shit” nick says in a duh tone

“you guys are ridiculous” chris mumbles annoyed as he makes his way downstairs to his bedroom.

The next morning chris is laying in bed half asleep, wishing she was beside him. But hes quickly taken out of his trance when he hears the doorbell, the sound he was dreading yesterday but wishing upon now.

“i’ll get it!” matt yells from upstairs

But when he turns to the door chris is already unlocking it

Nick is sitting on the couch with an unamused face, when matt looks over at him “look at this desperate dickhead”

“hes never gonna learn, fuck sake” nick eyerolls

When chris opens the door, y/n is taken aback by his face. y/n looks down at the floor and says quietly “oh… hi chris”

chris’ smile quickly fades as he hears her tone and realizes his excitement isn't mutual.

“hi y/n, come upstairs, can I get you a water or?-”

“uh no i should be good..thanks..”

Chris takes a seat on the couch wondering why y/n is acting so weird towards him. What did he do wrong? Did he say something bad?

The boys all give y/n a hug greeting her, besides chris.

“matt would you mind getting me some water? I’m really thirsty?” y/n says looking at matt

Chris looks over at her with a confused look across his face

“yeah of course, nick can you come with me, i think these two need to talk it out..” matt lowers his tone at the end so only nick can hear his last comment

Chris and y/n are both sitting on opposite sides of the couch looking at each other waiting for one to speak up.

“y/n, whats wrong?” chris speaks up

“have a think chris, have a think.”

Chris is using all of his brain and is trying to peice together what could be wrong. And then something clicks in his mind and realizes what has happened. He looks up with a concerned look on his face

“is this about yesterday, y/n? If it is im really sor-”

y/n cuts him off “chris do you not realize what we did and how this will affect our relationship and my job”

Chris is shocked by what she said “wait so your saying you regret what we did? I-I really thought we had something, something that would last, something you would care about” he says as he raises his voice and stands up angrily from the couch.

“no i don't regret it, that's not what I'm saying. I just think we should've been more careful or waited a bit longer” y/n says avoiding eye contact

“so you do regret it huh?” he starts to walk off then she grabs him by the arm

“no, chris just calm down i am not done-”

“well i sure am, get out of my house please”

y/n opens her purse quxckly, chris is standing there waiting for something that could save this relationship but instead it is something that will change their lives forever.

y/n slides a positive pregnancy test along the coffee table.

“as i was saying, we should've been more careful, should've waited longer, not saying i regret it.” she says shaking with tears forming on her waterline

She closes her purse, gets up, looks into the kitchen to see matt and nick both staring in such a state of shock. Tears start rolling down her face as she looks back at chris’ guilty and worried face. She wipes her tears and continues to leave.

The door slams

“i could choke you to death right now chris, not much is stopping me” nick says furiously as he follows y/n out of the house

Chris is still standing there in disbelief staring at that positive test.

“chris, ill get you some water, all you can do right now is sit down and try and relax yourself. Don't text anyone and don't listen to what nick is saying even though he is right, i know you would be really stressed right now and nothing he has to say will help.” matt says patting chris on the back gently

chris sits down on the couch shaking with tears falling down his face onto his pants, he can't seem to look away from the test. Regret and guilt clouds his mind and all he is thinking about is y/n.

“m-matt” chris stutters, matt turns back around to face chris, you can tell even matt is stressed out

“i, i am going to be a d - dad”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @riggysworld @chrissturnsss @sophand4n4

@chrispycremedonut

[sugusoneandonly]

IKIGAI - stsg x reader (1)

CURSE !! Geto x Satoru Gojo x Reader

cw :: pure fluff ; angst ?? semi-canon compliant // does not follow logic tm. imagined as fem!reader but gender neutral pronouns. swearing. infidelity (everyone ends up loving each other). ass writing. poly. inspired by various artists works and comics revolving curse!sorcerers and reformed geto!! i will try and hunt the main sources down when i find time :)

Gojo stares at the entity before him, unsure how to react anymore. His ex-…ex-….best friend, love? The lines of their relationship were blurred but, what was clear as day was the burning passion between him and Suguru Geto. He’d witnessed his soul shine, dim, deflect, and even die twice by his own hands. Now, he reappears before him, distorted in all the dark and twisted ways that he could be, yet still so beautiful.

His inky black hair, now a void of any warmth or love., spills like a broken pen. His skin…while most curses had a tattered, greened, molded, whatever physical manifestations of hurt could exist, tinge to them, Suguru didn’t. No, Suguru’s skin was ghastly pale, like porcelain so fragile like it could shatter with even the slightest breath. Similar to how he was once, and shatter he did.

The eyes of Geto are concealed by a blindfold just like Gojo’s, his mouth tinged like the blood dripping from his head during his final moments and somehow… normal compared to most curses. As if humanity been spared to him some.

Gojo parted his mouth, still wondering what to say, and if Geto would even understand it if he did. But Geto cut him to the chase.

A garbled “Satoru” had escaped the curses makeshift mouth. Gojo stumbled back, the strongest set back by the simple strangled utter of his name. Geto hovered closer, to him. “Suguru…you..” Gojo still rendered speechless. Gojo tried to walk away, testing his limits. To most sorcerers guesses, Suguru simply followed, growling at the tree branch poking out and barely grazing Gojo.

Gojo’s head was spinning, running at the speed of light, flashes of ifs and whats gripping onto him one after another. Somehow, a year after the defeat of Sukuna, and 2 after Kenjaku’s, Gojo had found the closest thing to peace he could. He had gotten married, to you. Sweet you with the warm eyes and shining smile. Sweet you who had held the weight of the strongest when he no longer could. Sweet you who….he somehow felt the brighter side of Suguru in. But now, Suguru’s back…one way or another, however one saw it, suguru was back. Perhaps not Suguru Geto the sorcerer, or Suguru Geto the “traitor”, but Suguru Geto his best friend and worldlessly more.

You only ever caught rare glimpses of Suguru at first, back in your high-school days. you were year below the trio. You’d admired him, maybe even found him pretty. But he didn’t know you. Until a few months in when you’d grown close to Shoko, getting occasional head pats and a soft smile from him. His warm hand resting a little longer than ones normally would, gliding down the round of your head and smoothing the stray hairs down and simultaneously doing the same to your heart. But, he’d never know that, and honestly, stupid you hardly did either.

After his defection, you and Gojo grew close with the common ground of broken hearts, the torn strings of them bonding together with the others.

Gojo didn’t know what to do. For the first time, he didn’t know what to do. For the first time, he could choose what to do without telling anyone yet. No elders to order him, no Yaga to lecture him.

You weren’t supposed to be home yet, for the next hour or so which gave him barely enough time to try and figure out what to do. But, when he opened the door to your shared house, a whiff of cozy aromatic scents smacked him in the face. You were home.

Hearing the door click, you skipped over to Gojo with a grin on your face, still unaware to the entity looming behind him. Just as you were about to jump into his arms, you were forced back with a repulsing shove followed by a garbled hiss.

From your sat position on the floor, you look up dazed. You see him, the new version of Geto. Your mouth parts, fear, shock, and curiosity conjuring in your eyes. Gojo could only shakily bend down to lift you up.

© sugusoneandonly 2024

header off pinterest

a/n :: trying and failing; will edit ☺️

[thedeathdeelers]

miracle

“no regrets.” he takes in a shuddering breath, trying hard to suppress yet another sob clawing its way out of his throat.

julie vigorously shakes her head at his words, even as the desperation in her eyes slowly shifts into defeated acceptance.

he knew she would get him — she always did — even if it pained the both of them.

he looks at her, takes in her slumped shoulders — her glassy eyes, wet cheeks and quivering lips.

luke swallows down another sob at the sight, fingers curling into fists at his sides as he holds it all in. he doesn’t want to break down in front of her and make this harder on her — not when she was already struggling.

he couldn’t.

especially here, now, when this might be the last time they see each other.

he needed to be there for her, to reassure her, up until the every end.

he walks closer towards her, as close as he could get, suddenly too aware of the space between them. because no matter how close he got to her, she still felt so out of reach.

what he would do to be able to bridge that gap — to hold her, to wrap his arms around her and keep her close, even if just once- even if it was the last thing he ever did-

and now, in this moment, he could almost picture it — the feel of her against him, feeling the air rush out of his lungs as she runs into his arms, her own wrapping tightly around his neck as she holds him close.

it felt so natural, it felt so real- almost terrifyingly so. was this the end? was he to spend his last moments of existence dreaming of a world where he could hold her?

luke closes his eyes, drowning in his own hallucination.

“i love you guys.”

if this was the end, then so be it.

let this be the last thing his mind conjures up.

but as the dream he thinks he’s having starts to move away, luke opens his eyes in panic to find julie just a few inches away from his face, her eyes too bright and too real to be a figment of his imagination. he stares at her in awe and confusion as she pulls away just enough to trail her fingers down his arms.

warm soft skin brushing against his own.

“h-how can i..feel you?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper as she looks up at him in wonder.

“i-i-“ he stutters out, too distracted by..everything. by her proximity, her warmth - by her. “i don’t know,” he finally manages to say, tears blurring his vision.

julie reaches out towards him at his words, almost as if in a desperate hurry to confirm that this wasn’t a fluke — that it wasn’t a dream, an illusion.

he immediately feels the warmth of her skin against his as she cups his face in her hands, her fingers stroking his cheeks and wiping away his tears.

he doesn’t know what to feel, what to think, what to say-

he continues to stare at her in disbelief, his body suddenly moving of its own accord as he mirrors her movements, hands moving up to the soft warmth of her cheeks.

“i-“ he must be dreaming, this can’t be true; a moment ago he was an inch away from being wiped out of this world, and now he is suddenly holding his entire world in the palms of his hands?

this was…this was a miracle.

he could touch her.

she could touch him.

laughing in bewilderment, luke pulls julie in closer and rests his forehead against hers. he closes his eyes at the soft touch, and takes a deep breath, breathing her in and letting her fill his lungs until he could no longer keep it in.

slowly breathing out, he flexes his fingers against her skin, feeling the friction beneath his fingertips as strands of her hair tickle his skin.

it felt surreal. every single part of her, of this moment — like it was all just a dream.

almost as if to prove him wrong, julie moves beneath his hands, head tilting up towards him just enough for her nose to bump against his own.

she was real.

luke breathes out another laugh at the contact, still in absolutely awe of everything that she is. he takes his time to savour the moment, feeling her breath brush against his lips.

he doesn’t know how long they stand there, holding onto each other in this dreamlike stance, but when he eventually opens his eyes, the first thing that greets him is her smile — a smile full of love and joy and wonder and hope.

this was truly a miracle.

she was a miracle.