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ktownshizzle · 3 days ago

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Love & Lullabies | Part 3

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: GRAB YOUR TISSUES!, this bitch is a whole ass kdrama episode and it’s gonna hurt before it gets better, happy ending tho!, themes of self-loathing, anxiety, and depression (MC), severe postpartum depression (not MC), it’s monsoon season and namgi don’t like umbrellas, (____) in the rain cliche scene, NAMTIDDIES because I can’t help myself, lastly… watch me morph this into another workplace romance/co-workers to lovers story lmao (real)

Word count: ~7k

Posting date: November 21, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme.

I am a clown 🤡 and a liar 🤥 From pretending this is a two-shot, then a three-shot. It has become a chaptered series, atp. There is a part 4 in the works and I fully intend to end it there, but again, I may have just jinxed myself. Anyway! Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Masterlist

“She’s Haneul’s mom.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What?”

“Sung Kyung and Yoongi… they’ve been good friends for years,” Namjoon explains quickly, his tone almost apologetic. “I didn’t think they were dating. But yeah, she’s his mom. She left for months and when she came back, she'd already given birth.”

You feel like the ground has been ripped out from under you. What Namjoon said made no sense. You clutch the edge of the counter, your mind racing. “What do you mean she left…?” You have never been more confused in your entire life.

Namjoon sighs. “I don’t know all the details. You know hyung, he tells you what he thinks you need to know. The rest, he keeps to himself. But I do know they did the paternity tests and everything, and Haneul’s his, theirs.”

Theirs. It’s easier if Namjoon just slices your heart open at this rate.

He places a tentative hand on your shoulder. “It’s better to hear it straight from Yoongi-hyung, since you guys are, you know.”

“I– I don’t know. I don’t know what we are,” you say, leaning your weight sideways against the wall to steady yourself.

Get a grip. It’s Haneul’s day.

Namjoon stands to shield you from the rest, in case anybody chances to look your way. You probably look like you’re about to puke. You definitely feel like it.

“Joonie…” Your voice is small when you ask, “Do you think she wants to come back now?”

Namjoon lifts his shoulder, lets it sag, “I don’t know. Maybe. She wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Your chest tightens, a wave of insecurity crashing over you. Of course, she would want to come back now. She’s beautiful, successful, everything you’re not. And most importantly, she’s Haneul’s mother. That’s the kicker. How can you compete with that?

Spoiler alert: you can’t.

When you step back into the living room, the first thing you notice is Yoongi’s mom. She’s standing off to the side, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glares at Sung Kyung from across the room with a mixture of disapproval and barely-contained irritation.

“She shouldn’t be here,” she says quietly, her voice cold and clipped.

“Eomma,” Yoongi grits.

“She abandoned Haneul, Yoongi,” his mom hisses, her tone sharper now. “And she thinks she can just come here like nothing happened?”

Yoongi sighs, his hand briefly brushing his mother’s arm in a silent plea for calm. “Not here, eomma. Please. It’s Haneul’s birthday. Don’t make a scene.”

Of course he is siding with her.

You’re unable to tear your eyes away from Sung Kyung. How can she look so beautiful even if she looks miserable? She exchanges a few more quiet words with Yoongi near the door, her expression alternating between frustration and what looks like regret. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you catch the way Yoongi’s shoulders stiffen, the way his jaw tightens as she reaches out to brush his arm. You see Yoongi nod, and you’re so curious, what is he agreeing to?

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she leaves. The door is closed, but for sure this chapter isn’t. Not even close.

You entertain yourself by watching some of the BTS members play some video games. Their antics, as funny as they are, don’t really register. Your laughs are hollow, mind totally elsewhere. It’s a while before Yoongi finally finds you, after he disappeared to his studio after Sung Kyung left and went MIA for half an hour or so.

He corners you near the snack table as you pretend to be engrossed in arranging leftover cupcakes.

“Hey,” he says softly, touching your arm lightly.

You turn to face him, your smile brittle. “Hey. How’s everything going?”

“Can we talk?”

You nod, following him toward the hallway, away from the laughter and chatter. The noise completely fades as you enter his soundproof studio and he turns to face you.

He exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to talk to you,” he says carefully, like he’s choosing every word with precision.

“About Sung Kyung.” you offer. He nods, shoulders visibly tense. “Yeah. And Haneul.”

The mention of Haneul makes your chest tighten, but you steady yourself, waiting for him to continue.

“She and I… we were close for a long time,” he begins, his gaze dropping to the floor. “And yeah, there was a point where I thought it was going somewhere. But then she just… disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“She left Korea. No warning, no explanation. Just… ghosted.” He shrugs. “I didn’t know where she went or why. She didn’t contact me for months.”

“And then one day,” he continues, “she called. Told me she just gave birth to a son. That it was mine.”

The words hang between you, heavy and jarring. You don’t say anything, letting him get it all out.

“She didn’t tell me she was pregnant,” he says, shaking his head as if he still can’t believe it. “I literally only found out after he was born.”

You feel a pang of sympathy, but then you’re also feeling angry at Sung Kyung. “Why did she wait so long to tell you?”

“She said she didn’t want to burden me. I was already doing my military service and I had that thing… that case. She thought she could handle it on her own.” He looks up at you then, his eyes dark and conflicted. “But after she had him… she couldn’t. She fell into really severe postpartum depression and some other health issues, basically telling me she was diagnosed unfit to take care of him.”

Your throat tightens, and you clasp your hands together to keep them from shaking. “So you stepped in.”

He nods, “I didn’t have a choice. Haneul needed someone, and I couldn’t—I wouldn’t turn my back on him. He’s my son. It was confirmed by a paternity test.”

“And now she’s back,” you say, more a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, dragging a hand down his face. “She says she’s better. That she wants to be in his life now. That she can be. And honestly… I don’t know what to do.”

You study him for a moment, your emotions warring between compassion and your own sense of inadequacy. “What do you want, Yoongi? Not for her, not for Haneul. What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, gnawing his lip before he says, “I just… I want to do what’s right for Haneul.”

The words cut deeper than you expected, but you force a small smile, nodding as if they don’t sting. “That makes sense.”

Yoongi takes a step closer as he studies your face. “But what about you?” he asks, his voice almost too gentle. “How are you feeling about all this?”

The sincerity in his question takes you off guard, and for a moment, you’re tempted to tell him everything. The ache in your chest, the jealousy you hate admitting to, the fear of losing whatever connection the two of you have built. But instead, you plaster on a smile, shoving all those emotions into a corner of your mind.

“I’m fine,” you say lightly. “It’s Haneul’s birthday. That’s what matters.”

Yoongi doesn’t look convinced, his gaze lingering on you as if he’s trying to read the truth in your expression. But after a moment, he nods, letting it drop. “Okay.”

Finally, you glance at the door, forcing yourself to straighten up. “We should probably get back to the party.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, stepping aside to let you pass. But as you reach for the door, his voice stops you.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

You turn back, your brows furrowing. “For what?”

“For everything,” he says, his eyes filled with something you can’t quite name.

You don’t know how to respond, so you just nod. Because his words—why did it feel like a goodbye?

The rest of the party passes in a blur. You keep smiling, keep laughing, keep pretending everything is fine. You stand by as Yoongi helps Haneul blow out his single candle, snapping pictures of his chubby hands smashing into the frosting.

You’re wiping stray frosting from Haneul’s cheek when you glance at him and for a split second, you see her. Sung Kyung’s face is right there, faint but unmistakable, in the shape of his eyes and the curve of his brows.

The realization hits you like a freight train. You freeze, the cloth clutched in your hand, staring at this beautiful baby boy who isn’t yours. Who will never be yours.

It’s too much. You set the muslin down, excusing yourself to the kitchen with a muttered, “I’ll grab more drinks.”

You don’t even make it to the fridge. You stand there by the counter, gripping its edge as you force yourself to breathe, to keep the tears at bay. You’ve never felt more out of place in your life.

Namjoon finds you a few moments later, leaning against the doorway with a quiet, watchful look. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He just stays there, close but not too close, his presence steady and silent. You appreciate him for that—for knowing exactly what you need when you’re unraveling. He’s your best friend after all.

But even his quiet support isn’t enough to keep the emotions at bay.

Across the room, Yoongi’s eomma catches your eye. There’s something pitying in the glances she throws your way, a faint furrow of her brow that makes you want to sink into the floor. You had the feeling she knows there’s something between you and Yoongi, but now… now it feels like she’s seeing through you, like she knows exactly how small you’re starting to feel.

Because the truth is, you’re nothing.

You’re not Haneul’s mom. You’re not Yoongi’s girlfriend. You’re just someone who helps out when it’s convenient, and now that they have a nanny, you’re not even that. And it hurts. God, it hurts because you thought—maybe foolishly, maybe selfishly—that you were becoming something more. That you were becoming someone to them. That, maybe, you were becoming a family.

But now, as you stand there watching Yoongi carry Haneul to his room, barely sparing you a glance, the truth sinks in like a stone in your chest. You’re not someone. You’re a placeholder. A stand-in.

And pretty soon, just like Jiyong, they’re going to discard you. Because that’s what always happens. You’re always easy to leave behind. Always replaceable. Always useless.

The thought claws at you, and you suddenly can’t breathe. You grab your things and run. The cool night air stings your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in your chest.

The tears come before you can stop them, hot and angry and full of every ounce of self-loathing you’ve tried to bury.

You glance back at the building. Maybe for the last time. You’re on the outside now—of course you are. You’ve been on the outside this entire time.

Namjoon must have noticed you were gone because he texted shortly after:

Joonie: You okay? Joonie: Don’t worry, I told them you weren’t feeling well. Go home and rest. Text me when you’re there.

That night, you ignored Yoongi’s call. You stared at the screen as his name lit up, your finger hovering over the answer button before you let it ring out. He left a voicemail. You deleted it without listening.

The next morning, you wake up to another call from him. This time, he doesn’t leave a voicemail. Instead, he sends a message.

Yoongi: Can I come over?

You stare at the text for a long time, your stomach twisting with guilt and anger and sadness. Finally, you type out a single word:

You: No

You throw your phone face-down on the couch, ignoring the way it buzzes again and again and again.

For the next few days, you ghost him.

It wasn’t easy. Every time your phone buzzes, you feel a pang of guilt, a deep ache that gnaws at your resolve. But you can’t bring yourself to answer. You need time. You need to figure out where you stood in all of this.

His messages come sporadically at first:

Yoongi: Hey, can we talk? Yoongi: I don’t know what I did wrong, but I want to fix it. Yoongi: Please. Just let me know you’re okay.

You delete most of them without reading too much into them. But then he starts sending pictures.

The first was of Haneul, grinning in his chair, wearing the capybara slippers you’d gifted him for his birthday.

Yoongi: Haneul misses you

The next day, another photo. This time, Haneul was lying on his playmat, still wearing the slippers, holding onto Bora.

Yoongi: Still missing you

Each message chips away at your resolve, but the one that breaks you comes Thursday evening:

A short video clip. In it, Haneul is sitting on the floor, babbling as he clutches Bora. And then, clear as day, he says it:

“Sa-ra.”

Your heart twists painfully. It’s clipped, but it’s unmistakably sarang. Your term of endearment for him, the nickname you’d called him since he started smiling every time he heard it. He’d never been able to say it back—not until now.

And Yoongi knows exactly what he is doing, sending this to you.

You stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity, leaving the video on loop, before finally opening your call log. His name was right at the top, of course. You hit the call button, your hands trembling as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Yoongi’s voice comes through almost immediately.

You exhale shakily. “Hi.”

There was a pause. Then he speaks again, and you can hear his vulnerability. “I didn’t think you’d call back.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “How could I ignore that video? Haneul… he said sarang.”

“Yeah, he’s been saying it non-stop since yesterday.”

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Yoongi… about… us.”

“Mmh?” He didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush you. He just waited.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began. “Haneul deserves to have a complete family. He deserves to know his mom, to have her in his life. If—if that’s what you both want.”

Yoongi was quiet for a long moment before he finally responded. “But… he needs you, too.”

Before you can back out, “Yoongi, I need space,” you say finally, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Okay.”

It wasn’t a protest. It wasn’t an argument. Just… okay. It’s the most ‘Yoongi’ reaction to things, and you hate it. You hate it so much.

You hang up, staring at the screen until it goes dark. Your chest felt heavy, your heart splintering in ways you didn’t know it could.

You’d told him you needed space and he said okay. The truth is, when you said space, you just wanted him to make room for you. To assure you that you belong with them. That there is a seat, warm and yours. But he didn’t.

You miss Yoongi so much it feels like a physical ache. But it’s not just him. You miss Haneul’s face, his giggles, his sleepy weight in your arms.

Namjoon has been doing his best to check in. He sends you UberEats nearly every other day, a steady stream of meals you barely touch. The one time he came over, unannounced, he walked into what could only be described as a disaster.

“Jesus Christ,” Namjoon muttered, kicking a stray box out of his way as he entered your apartment. The laundry basket was overflowing, your trash can piled up. You were in a 2-day old shirt, hair a rat’s nest, and you’re slouched on the couch with an empty brain.

Namjoon stared at you, his disappointment radiating off him. “Y/N, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, barely looking at him.

He scoffed. “Fine? You look like you’ve been run over by a truck. Twice.”

“So dramatic.” You rolled your eyes, but the truth of his words stung.

Namjoon crouched in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “Move in with me for now. You know I have the space. You can’t stay here like this. It’s not healthy.”

“I’m not moving in with you, Joon,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not your charity case.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re not a charity case. You’re my best friend. And I’m not gonna sit back and watch you drown in your own misery.”

“I’m not gonna live in your and Soyeon’s sex den,” you snapped unnecessarily.

Namjoon just looked at you, shook his head, before he flopped beside you on the couch. He fed you, forced you to go take a shower, and watched some shitty reality show with you. He eventually left, though you could feel the weight of his disappointment long after the door shut behind him. If he only knew how thankful you were of those visits.

A week later, you find yourself standing in front of Yoongi’s apartment. You didn’t plan this. You don’t even know what you’re hoping to achieve by being here. All you know is that the ache of missing them—missing him—has become unbearable.

You knock on the door before you can second-guess yourself.

Mrs. Kwon opens it, her expression immediately uneasy. “Y/N,” she says, her tone cautious. “You should come back another time.”

“Why?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.

She hesitates, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s just… not a good time.”

“I need to see them,” you insist, stepping forward.

“My dear girl, please listen—”

But you’re already past her, your determination overriding her warnings.

When you step into the living room–

Fuck.

There she is. Sung Kyung, sitting on the floor with Haneul in her lap, holding a plush toy you don’t recognize. She’s smiling at him, her voice soft as she tries to coax him into playing with it. Adding salt to the wound–Bora, the capybara plush you gave Haneul, is discarded carelessly in the corner near the diaper pail.

Your heart stops, and before you can control yourself, you take a step back, your movement catching Sung Kyung’s attention. She looks up, confused. She doesn’t know you, why would she?

Yoongi’s voice comes from behind you, and you turn to see him emerging from his studio, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Who rang the—”

His eyes widen when he sees you, but you’re already moving, your feet carrying you toward the door in a blind rush.

“Wait—Y/N!”

You barely hear him as you bend down and snatch Bora from the floor. Haneul’s voice suddenly cuts through the air, his tiny, excited voice calling out, “Sa-ra! Sa-ra!”

Tears blur your vision as you wrench the door open and run, Yoongi’s voice calling after you, but you don’t stop.

It’s raining when you step outside. Great, because this day couldn’t get any worse. The cold droplets soak through your clothes almost instantly. You don’t have an umbrella, but you don’t give a shit. Tears stream down your face mixing with the rain.

You don’t know how far you get before you feel it—a warmth against your back, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Yoongi’s voice cracks as he says your name, his rain-soaked body like a furnace against your shivering frame. “Please.”

He sounds like he is begging, but why? What is he asking? What does he want from you?

You shake your head, your voice breaking. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Then why did you?” he asks, his tone desperate, his chest heaving as he pulls you tighter.

“Because I thought… I thought I had a place here. But I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice barely audible over the rain as he turns you to face him. His hands come up to cradle your face. He was starting to shake too, the pads of his fingers damp against your skin. His eyes search yours, desperate, and before you can stop him—or yourself—he closes the space between you and kisses you.

Against the pouring rain, your lips press against each other, clumsy, shaky, unexpectedly urgent. His lips move like he’s trying to say all the things he can’t find the words for, like this is his only way to make you understand. And for a second, maybe a minute, maybe more, you let him.

You feel his ragged breaths as he licks into your mouth, his hair brushing your temple, droplets trailing down your skin. His hand slides from your cheek to the nape of your neck, fingers threading gently through your wet hair. It’s tender and fierce all at once, like he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

But there is a tinge of bitterness cutting through the taste of his kiss. This isn’t enough—not to fix everything, not to erase the doubt clawing at the edges of your mind. Not to prevent the new thoughts from worming its way inside.

Sung Kyung is in his apartment right now. So maybe it’s not just about Haneul anymore. Maybe they’re reconciling. Trying to sort out their own feelings that they put on ice. Yoongi did say he thought their relationship was going somewhere.

God, you do not want to be some homewrecker. You cannot do that to Haneul. Weakly you try to pull back.

But Yoongi doesn’t let you. His lips chase yours, teeth gently sinking into your plush and you’re unable to stifle the moan from your mouth at the delicious sting. You open up to him, lips sliding against his as his other hand grips your waist now, pulling you closer until you can really feel the heat of his body through the drenched fabric of his clothes. The world feels like it’s spinning, everything is blending into a dizzying blur, and you don’t know how to stop it.

Your hand hovers at his chest, not pushing him away but not pulling him closer either. Your heart is screaming to hold on just a little longer. But your head is telling you—

“No,” you whisper, breaking away as quickly as you can without slipping on the slick ground. Your chest heaves as you clutch Bora tighter against you.

Yoongi stands frozen, his lips parted as if he’s about to speak, his dark eyes locked on yours. The rain clings to his lashes, his hair plastered to his forehead, and for a moment, he looks completely lost.

“I can’t do this, Yoongi,” you choke out, your voice shaking. “I just… I can’t.”

And before he can stop you, you turn and run again, your feet splashing through puddles as you make your way to the nearest bus stop. By some miracle, you make your way home in one piece. Barring one vital organ that’s discarded somewhere in Hannam.

My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can't see at all And even if I could, it'd all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad - Stan, Eminem

Your apartment is cold and quiet, the soft patter of rain against the windows the only sound. The mug of tea on your table has long since gone cold, untouched, as you sit curled up on the couch, staring at that grainy selca Yoongi sent you weeks ago.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Namjoon steps in, shaking off the rain and holding a grocery bag in one hand, his hoodie slung over his shoulder. He’s soaked to the bone, but he flashes you his dimples anyway.

“You know,” he starts, setting the bag on the counter, “for someone who always claims they’re fine, you sure as hell don’t look it.”

“Don’t start, Joon,” you mumble, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

Namjoon ignores you, glancing around the apartment with a disapproving look. “Seriously? It still looks like you just moved in. No decorations, no warmth. This part could be a photo wall or something…”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, Mr. Art influencer.”

“I need a dry shirt,” he says, gripping the edge of his tee and pulling it up and over his head without fanfare.

You’ve never felt attracted to your best friend in any physical or sexual way ever (seriously, ew), but you can appreciate a good physique when you see one.

“Wow, Joonie, are your tiddies getting bigger?” you say as you stand to find a shirt for him from your makeshift closet.

“You’re an idiot.”

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings. Namjoon straightens, wiping his hands on his pants. “You expecting someone?”

You shake your head.

Namjoon strides to the door, glancing through the peephole with a tsk before pulling it open. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s shirtless, which would be awkward enough if it were anyone else standing there.

But it’s Yoongi.

Yoongi stands in the hallway, his expression strained, his eyes immediately scanning the room behind Namjoon until they land on you, curled on the couch. You clutch the t-shirt you were about to lend Namjoon tighter against your chest, unsure whether to feel relief, anger, or the painful longing that’s been gnawing at you for days.

“I need to talk to her,” Yoongi says, his voice calm but heavy with emotion.

Namjoon steps into the doorway, crossing his arms as he blocks the entrance. “Maybe not today, hyung.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t flinch. “I have to. I need to explain.”

Namjoon doesn’t budge, his voice soft but firm. “Sorry, hyung. Not after everything.”

Yoongi’s eyes flick to you again, desperate. “I just… fuck,” He swallows hard, his voice breaking slightly. “I can’t let her think she doesn’t matter to me. She does. More than anyone.”

Namjoon hesitates for the first time, glancing back at you. His expression softens briefly, but when he turns to Yoongi again, it’s your voice that responds.

“Yoongi.” Your voice is quiet, but it cuts through the tension like a blade. Both men turn to you, and the hope that flashes across Yoongi’s face makes your lungs shrivel.

You grip the fabric in your hands tighter, willing yourself to stay firm. “You should go.”

Yoongi’s lips part as if to argue, but the look in your eyes silences him. He nods once, slowly, his expression crumbling for just a moment before he turns away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it.

Namjoon watches him for a moment longer before stepping back into the apartment and shutting the door.

The first step is always the hardest.

Namjoon didn’t sugarcoat anything when he told you to get your shit together. “I love you,” he said bluntly after Yoongi left that rainy night, “but you’re the only one who can pull yourself out of this. No one else is coming to save you. Not me. Not Jiyong. Not Yoongi. Just you.”

You hated hearing it, but he was right.

So you took the first step: you called a therapist. Twice a week, you sat in that tiny, clinical room and talked about everything you’d buried for years. The abandonment issues you’d carried since childhood. The shame you felt after your relationship with Jiyong fell apart. The way you constantly give pieces of yourself to others, just like you did with Haneul and Yoongi, leaving nothing for yourself. Thinking that’s okay.

Session by session, the fog began to lift. Slowly, you started to understand that happiness couldn’t come from someone else, no matter how deeply you loved them. It had to come from you—built piece by piece, nurtured, protected.

You realized that loving yourself wasn’t selfish. It was necessary. And for the first time in months, you began to believe you were worthy of it.

At home, you started small. One night, you finally tackled the pile of laundry that had been haunting you for weeks. Another night, you scrubbed down the kitchen until the counters gleamed. And then one weekend, you went to IKEA and bought a bed frame—not just a functional one, but a beautiful one that made you feel excited to wake up in the mornings.

You even hung up paintings on the walls, little pops of color that made the apartment feel like it was actually yours. Namjoon gave you some from his collection, too.

Running sucks, but it became your nightly ritual. At first, it was hard. Your legs ached, and your lungs burned. But the more you pushed yourself, the better it felt—the rush of endorphins, the rhythm of your feet hitting the pavement, the way your thoughts quieted for just a little while.

Bit by bit, you started to feel lighter. Like you were shedding layers of weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying.

And then there was Yoongi.

He was still a constant name on your phone, though the tone of his messages had shifted over time. At first, his texts were full of apologies and pleas for a second chance:

Yoongi: I know I messed up. Please let me make it right.

Yoongi: I’m sorry for everything. I hate that I hurt you.

Yoongi: I need you, Y/N. I should have told you sooner.

Yoongi: Can I come over? I really want to explain everything.

Yoongi: I’m an idiot.

Yoongi: I’ll wait for you. Just tell me when you’re ready to talk.

Then came the texts about Haneul:

Yoongi: Haneul misses you. Not to one-up my own kid, but I miss you more.

Yoongi: Han said your name today. He kept pointing at the door like he was waiting for you to walk in.

Yoongi: I bought him a new Bora. This giraffe is lame. [image attached]

Yoongi: Han’s been carrying Bora 2.0 everywhere. He even tried to feed it rice last night.

And now, weeks later, his messages had settled into something different.

Yoongi: I was in the studio all day, and Hobi made me take a break. We ended up eating too much fried chicken and now I have a zit.

Yoongi: How was your run today? Namjoonah says you’re joining a mini marathon. Good luck!

Yoongi: Still have boxes of Silver Moon tea. It’s too bougie for my ghetto taste buds. Lmk if you want it. Yoongi: Actually, no need. I'll send it thru Namjoonah.

Yoongi: I fucked up the choreography to our new track at Mubank today like an amateur. I hope you didn’t get to watch it.

They were simple, almost mundane. But Yoongi’s texts had a way of hitting you square in the chest. You think back to that conversation in his home, the one where he admitted how lonely he sometimes felt—how he wished for someone to talk to about the little things, the big milestones, everything in between. Someone to share life with. And now, with every message he sends, it feels like he’s choosing you.

Even though weeks have passed without seeing him, he’s still there. Reaching out. Trying to stay connected. Even when you never reply.

But his messages have become tiny bursts of dopamine in your otherwise quiet days. You’re both surprised and relieved he hasn’t stopped trying, that he hasn’t grown tired of pouring himself into the void of your Kakao.

Namjoon told you recently that Yoongi and Sung Kyung have started co-parenting Haneul. She gets supervised visits twice a month. At first, the green-eyed monster threatened to come out. But your best friend tells you that Yoongi never wanted to rekindle anything with Sung Kyung, which gave you some peace. Maybe if you’d been braver back then, you could’ve asked Yoongi yourself. Maybe if Yoongi had been better at communicating, he would have told you then it wouldn’t have felt like such an uphill climb.

But, he was also having such a difficult time, sorting through his own circumstances. And your insecurities at the time were too heavy, too overwhelming to sift through. You probably wouldn’t have believed him then. The progress you’ve made now—to love yourself first—feels hard-won and necessary. And maybe Yoongi also needed to go on a journey to really know what he wants for him and Haneul.

You’ve come to realize through all this that you don’t really hate Sung Kyung. Maybe you were angry on behalf of Yoongi and Haneul for all the secrets she kept, for the ways her choices hurt them both. There was even a night when you found yourself doing a Naver search on postpartum depression. You hadn’t understood how debilitating it could be, how it could turn even the strongest person into a shell of themselves. It didn’t excuse everything, but it gave you perspective, especially as you battle your own demons.

Still, as you journey forward, there are moments when you imagine the “what ifs” with Yoongi, if Sung Kyung hadn't showed up that day. Sometimes, late at night, your mind drifts back to him. You replay his kiss, remembering the way it felt, the way he tasted. You can still conjure the image of his face under the rain, the way he looked at you in that fleeting, heart-wrenching moment.

You wonder if he thinks about it, too. You know he’s waiting. You just hope that when you’re finally ready to let him back in, he’ll still be there—on the other side, willing to try again.

One evening, Namjoon called, his tone unusually excited. “Hey, I’ve got something for you.”

“No, I don’t need more lube, I’m stocked,” you joked, just to be a piece of shit.

“Shut up and listen,” he said, laughing. “Hybe’s opening a daycare for employees’ kids. They need someone to run it. You’re perfect for this.”

Your stomach flipped. “What? Joonie, I don’t even—”

“Don’t even try to argue,” he interrupted. “You have a degree in early childhood education. You love kids. This was your literal job in the states. C’mon, this is made for you.”

“What if I’m not ready?”

Namjoon sighed. “You are. I’ve seen how much work you’ve been putting in. You’re stronger than you think. Just… apply. The worst they can do is say no.”

You’re quiet, so he added. “...and they won’t. I’ll have each member of Bangtan sign a recommendation letter for you.”

“You’re too much, Joonie,” you laugh. But you surely won’t put it past him to do that. “But ok, I’ll apply.”

So you did. And a week later, you got the call.

Your first day at Hybe’s daycare center feels like a dream you didn’t know you had. The space is beautiful—sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the colorful toys, tiny tables, and pastel murals. There are only three kids who pre-registered, but you were expecting more to walk in.

Namjoon is there, truly your ride or die, sitting casually on your desk with his ever-supportive grin. “You nervous?”

“Nope,” you say, trying to sound confident. But the way your voice wavers gives you away.

Namjoon chuckles. “Relax. You’re going to crush this.”

Before you can respond, the door swings open, and in walks Hobi with Yunjin and their toddler, Jeongyeon. The little girl looks adorable in her sunflower-patterned overalls, her tiny pigtails bobbing as she walks toward the play area.

“Jeongyeon, say hi to teacher Y/N,” Yunjin says, gently guiding her forward.

“Hi!” Jeongyeon squeaks.

You crouch down to her level. “Hi, Jeongyeon! You’re gonna have so much fun today.”

“First kid of the day, ayeeee!" Hobi says, high-fiving Yunjin, before she runs to Jeongyeon who is mounting the toy pony. Then he turns to you, “Congratulations, Y/N.”

Just as they’re leaving, Namjoon nudges you. “By the way, did you know there’s a capybara mascot today?”

“What?” you blink, confused.

Before Namjoon can explain, something soft and warm suddenly envelops you in a hug. You turn to see a capybara mascot wrapping its plush arms around you, its giant head tilted adorably to the side.

“What the…” You laugh, surprised, grasping its arm. “Hybe really went all out, huh?”

Namjoon smirks. “Of course. First-day activations are a big deal here. And look at that, your favorite animal. What a coincidence.”

You grin, stepping back to look at the mascot. “Guess I’m a little biased, but this might be the cutest thing ever.”

The mascot gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up.

Shortly, Haneul arrives. The moment you see him toddling through the door, all your nerves, all the weight you’d carried for weeks—gone. There’s no ache, no tension. Just pure, uncomplicated happiness.

His nanny, a kind older woman, walks him in, holding his hand as he peers curiously around the room.

Haneul bounds toward you giggling, his gummy smile stretching wide as he lets go of the nanny’s hand and waddles toward you.

“Hi, sarang,” you say, crouching down to scoop him into your arms. He smells like baby lotion and sunshine, and your chest feels full as he buries his face in your shoulder. “I missed you.”

You glance toward the door, your eyes darting around instinctively, but there’s no sign of Yoongi. A small pang of disappointment settles in your stomach before you shake it off. He’s probably holed up in his studio, working on something brilliant. It would have been nice to see him though.

The capybara mascot wanders over, drawing Haneul’s attention instantly. His eyes light up as he points at it, giggling.

“Appa!” Haneul says excitedly, punching the knee of the mascot with his tiny fists.

You laugh, brushing a hand through his soft hair. “That’s not your appa, Haneul. He’s probably in one of the big studios upstairs working very hard right now.”

The mascot gives you a pat on the head, and something about its movements feels oddly familiar. But you don’t dwell on it, too caught up in Haneul’s delighted squeals as the mascot does a little dance for him. It sure loves to shake its ass.

For the rest of the morning, you’re in your element, guiding the kids through activities, wiping tears, and singing songs during circle time. Every so often, Haneul points at the mascot and calls out “Appa!” again, and you can’t help but laugh.

And if the capybara mascot seems to hover a little longer around Haneul, or if it lingers near you whenever there’s a chance, well… you just chalk it up to coincidence.

(One day, much later, you’ll find out the truth. But for now, you’re content not knowing.)

That night, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out to find another message from Yoongi.

Yoongi: Congratulations on your first day!

You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. For the first time in weeks, as you look at your thread of messages from him, you let yourself smile—a small, cautious smile, but a smile nonetheless. And for the first time in months of radio silence, you type up your first reply to him.

You: Thanks, Yoongi. I’m really happy. :)

His reply came almost immediately.

Yoongi: You deserve it

And it may have taken a while, but you finally believe that. So you decide you are also finally ready to do this.

You: Can we talk? Yoongi: giv me 10 mins im cming overr

A/N:

Alright!! Wheeeew! You good? How are you feeling?!?!? As usual, please sound off in the comments. 💕

I just want to say that am so proud of this chapter. I think I wrote my best, angst work here. Plus - Kissing in the rain? Namtiddies? A taste of smau? Hee hee. 🤗

If you make it to here, thank you so so much for reading this story, you lovely, beautiful, human! xo

Part 4 is coming uppp and it’s gonna be a doozy~ 🤭

P.S. As some of y’all know I am a mom and I have experienced post-partum depression before. It was nowhere near the severity of how it is depicted here (a condition that is grave and rare because the character also has other mental struggles), but I empathize. I cannot imagine being truly unfit to care for my own baby. So I request that we do not vilify L&L! LSK. She fucked up real baddd, she could’ve involved Yoongi earlier, etc etc but again she is trying to do better. Plusss, it needs to be said, she does not want Yoongi. Gasp. Y’all can rest easy. He’s yours! 💕

& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my masterlist. & If you enjoy my work and want to buy me a ko-fi, I'd appreciate it.

Taglist:

@yoongznme @nnybtitts08 @rinkud @nbjch05 @perfectiondazesworld

@marnz1990 @mxrauds @queenbloody @jadestonedaeho7 @futuristicenemychaos

@direnediane @glossdebut @maryhopemei @theresstardustinmyblood @mggv97

@wobblewobble822 @kam9404 @supernoonanyc @damn-u-min-yoongi @ot72025

@busanbby-jjk @granataepfelchen @jajabro @tarahardcore @marihoneywk

@ryryvna @tea4sykes @mar-lo-pap @lilkittenjenjen

@captainchrisstan @thelittlecatonthecake

@flaneuseonthestreets @sexytholland @diamonddia-mond

@yronathaniel @as-hs-blog @amarssfanfic @mafersame @amarawayne

@eurydiceofterabithia @diame93 @welcometomyworld13 @wonh0oe @lilkittenjenjen @jalexad

@jkkkkkay @chimmisbae @angellekookie @jovanaprime @txtsoobean @joonlovely

@kookiewithluv @soop-sprite @hyukaluve

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borathae · 10 hours ago

Text

Bonded

“You didn’t think that having Jungkook save you from an abusive arranged marriage by marking you would mean that you would have to marry him instead. Yet here you are. Bonded to him for life, with his father threatening to ban you if you fuck it up and with your marriage night one step away. It wouldn’t be that scary if you weren’t aware that his family doesn’t bond with omegas.”

- Sequel to Alpha -

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x f. omega!Reader

Genre: Werewolves!AU, forced marriage!AU, childhood best friends to lovers!AU, marriage night!AU, Angst, Romance, SMUT

Warnings: Hard Dom!Jungkook, happy sub!Reader, size & strength kink, he is a lot taller than her, angst & misunderstandings in the beginning, poor woman gets threatened left and right at her own bonding party, please protect her, Kook is hurt by her at first but the problem gets solved hihi, her brother is a dick tbfh, insanely protective!Jungkook, whipped Alpha in loveeee, lots of kisses and touches, he is really soft with her & just a lil nervous, he is so lethal tbfh no wonder she gets turned on by him so easily bahaha, kissing & biting of her scent spots, the spots are on her neck and her tits and her inner thighs, he accidentally stimulates them long enough that she goes into heat, which makes him go into his ruts <3, this is a really passionate bonding night for sureeee, intense and hungry nipple sucking, her poor omega tits swell and produce sweet liquid (not milk just idk omega liquid lmaloaooa listen I made this up as I was going and it's hot), Jungkook eats it upppp, sooooo much slick, lots of drool and tears hihih, rough penetrative sex with his big alpha cock, knotting, lots of orgasms for both, breeding with his hot cum mhmh, listen he fucks her roughly while he is knotted which means she repeatedly gets penetrated by his knot, she likes it cause she is so into him, stimulation of her cervix which feels really good for an omega, she is in heaven with him fr, he never felt as good before as well, sex in missionary then in mating press and then just tangled up in a mess of limbs, praise, hand holding, he calls her "baby" & "my love" & "princess", the cuddliest and safest and giggliest aftercare, they're not aware of it yet but they're true mates <3, oh yeah! they break the bed

Wordcount: 15.8k

a/n: YOU HOES (affectionately) ASKED FOR IT AND THIS HOE (me, derogatory) LISTENED!!! I FUCKING LISTENED!!! AND I AGREED!! We need more Alpha!Kook in our life and on this blog. This is the hottest smut ever like (tmi but) i need to jerk it afterwards, which rarely happens with my smut HFAHDSFH i need him to be my alpha husband and rearrange my guts daily tbfh 😔 have fun besties, i hope this is a worthy enough sequel to the first part 😩💛 ps: for all you omegaverse veterans, i'm still a newbie to this AU and this story is MY interpretation of the AU hehe any rule changes are done intentional to my comfort levels <3

If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would mean This, perhaps you never would have agreed. Perhaps if the night hadn’t been so stormy and you so hopeless, you wouldn’t have said yes.

But you did and now you are here. In front of the entire pack, in a long dress as your pack’s priest is talking about eternal faithfulness. You knew that being marked by an alpha would mean that you had to be with him, but didn’t think it would mean This.

Your family is in the audience. First row, next to Jungkook’s family. Your brother stares at you with a look you can’t quite make out. You still can’t really stand his face. Jungkook’s father seems displeased and you don’t blame him. The little stunt you pulled made alpha Urquard furious and it was Jungkook’s father who had to take care of it. He wanted to trade another omega at first, but Jungkook stopped him before that could happen. You didn’t get to see Jungkook for two whole days after this incident and when he came back, his upper lip was chipped and he didn’t want to talk about what happened.

“Urquard’s not gonna bother our pack again. That’s all you need to know”, he told you tiredly while you tried to nurse his lip. “And there’s something else. It’s about us”, he then continued.

“About us? What about us?”

“If we wanna keep living here, we have to do something.”

“What do we have to do?”

“And with this kiss, I may pronounce you husband and wife”, the priest says and howls. The rest of the pack follows. Everyone, except Jungkook’s father who is staring holes into you darkly. It is custom for werewolves to howl for a newly bonded couple. It is meant to bring luck and happiness into the marriage. Having the pack alpha refuse this ritual is not a good sign.

You gulp down the heavy lump in your throat, shifting your nervous eyes to Jungkook. He seems nervous too, clasping your clammy hands. He closes the distance. Thankfully the howls are loud enough to mask your voices.

“He isn’t-”

“I know. Ignore him. He’s a stubborn idiot.” Jungkook cups your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”

You hesitate, feeling dizzy from lack of oxygen in your lungs. His father isn’t howling. What if Jungkook doesn’t want this bond either? If you knew that your night with him would end in marriage, maybe you wouldn’t have said yes to him. He wants to kiss you, doesn’t he? His eyes are studying your lips. You want to kiss him too, but it is so scary to go for it. What if he doesn’t want this bond? You hesitate and hesitate. As a matter of fact, you hesitate long enough for the howls to die down.

Heavy, thick silence follows. The pack stares. The priest stares. Jungkook’s father stares. Jungkook himself stares.

“Hey uhm, this is the part where you kiss me”, he whispers.

“I know”, you whisper back.

The priest clears his throat. Jungkook licks his lips nervously, still waiting for your consent. Someone in the audience coughs.

If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would lead to having to bond with him, perhaps you never would have agreed. He promised you that you would just have to pretend, that you wouldn’t have to be with him if you didn’t want to and yet here you are. You are now officially his mate. Well, not until you kissed him. You really want to kiss him, but it’s so scary.

“You have to kiss for the bond to be sealed”, the priest whispers as well.

You glance at the audience. Your family seems nervous. Jungkook’s father seems hopeful but also very angry. You look at Jungkook, whose eyes have darkened slightly.

“It seems that the bond is invali-”, the priest tries to announce loudly, but before he can finish his sentence, Jungkook silences him by pulling you into the kiss.

You gasp, eyes wide open and body frozen. His big hand is on the back of your head, keeping you close. The priest sees it as a sign and begins the howling again. It fills the wedding house, almost sounding like melodies of joy. But you feel sick to the stomach. You are mated for life. Jungkook made sure of it and you made sure of how your marriage will be because you hesitated. You can see it in his eyes once he pulls back and they are as cold as ice. Holy fuck, you messed up.

The iciness of his stare continues long into the festivities. It is the duty of the newly bonded couple to open the dance floor with a dance. You and Jungkook have to wait behind a curtain to be called to the floor. You arrive a little later than him because your mother wanted to talk to you before that. Something about being a good mate to him. You didn’t really listen because she pissed you off.

Jungkook sends you an icy glare, tonguing his cheek.

“You”, you stomp to him. Your mother made you angry enough that you feel the need to take it out on him.

He watches you with a cocked up brow. You shove at his chest. He doesn’t budge, but stares with widened eyes.

“How dare you force the kiss onto me like this. You took away my choice”, you hiss.

“Tch.”

“Don’t tch me. You said that it was my choice. You forced me.”

He tenses his jaw, looking anywhere but you. You shove him again with no chance of moving him.

“Did you hear me?”

“I don’t know if you already forgot the five prior conversations we had, but if we didn’t bond today, my dad would have banished us both. I made sure that this wouldn’t happen”, he answers you snappishly.

“This still doesn’t give you the right to kiss me like this”, you throw back, shoving at his chest.

He doesn’t budge, taking your hands to stop you from shoving him again. His grip is strong and possessive, but doesn’t hurt.

“The priest was gonna renounce our bond. I had to act fast”, he hisses.

“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be forced into it.”

“I know that by now”, Jungkook spits and swipes your hands away, turning a cold shoulder to you. He crosses his arms in front of his chest so tightly it looks as if he is trying to hug himself.

“I want an apology for it”, you insist.

“I’m sorry.”

You falter for a moment, not having expected it.

“I’m sorry, okay? Just. Drop it now, please.”

“Drop it? Excuse me?”

Jungkook turns his head away.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

No eye contact.

“Jungkook?”

“I’m done talking to you”, he grumbles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you hurt me.”

You gawk at him, holding your breath. He turns to you, meeting your eyes with such urgency it feels as if he is trying to drown you in the connection.

“All this talk about not wanting me to hold back. You told me not to stop telling you that you’re mine. Was it just empty talk?” he asks.

His heartbroken scent makes you feel heavy in your chest.

“What? I, I don’t- what?” you stutter.

“Did it ever mean something to you?”

“Kook, I-”

“Don’t call me that”, he hisses and steps closer. The thing is, however, that you don’t feel the instinctive need to step back. He doesn’t feel dangerous to you. Not because he isn’t scary, because he definitely is, but because you know for a fact that he wouldn’t hurt you. “Don’t call me that after what you did today.”

You gulp. He puts his hand over his heart, eyes showing how hurt he feels. His voice quivers as he speaks.

“You made me have my first knot ever. You, you made me feel so good that I bit you. You had your first knotting orgasm through me. I was fucking alive inside you”, he say and puts his other hand on your stomach where you once allowed him to feel himself in you.

You gasp and tense at the touch, putting your hand over his’. His touch seeps into you, reminding you how it was to carry his warmth inside you. Everything inside you wants him within the first touch. The connection is so intense that you draw closer to him instinctively.

“I thought that it meant something to you too. So why did you hesitate?” he stresses, eyes racing between yours.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Jungkook pulls his hand away from your stomach. “Wow, okay.”

“Kook, please.”

“Forget it. Let’s just get it over with”, he hisses and a second later, the curtains open and you have to pretend to be a happy couple.

He takes your hand, leading you to the dance floor while howls and claps cheer you on. He positions you and him in the middle of the dance floor, looking down at you with a tightened face.

The music starts. So does the dance.

Jungkook leads it, you follow. He holds you so close. He looks so deeply into your eyes. To anyone else it must seem as if he can’t get enough of his wife, but you are close enough to him that you know his true feelings. He wants this stupid dance to end as quickly as possible.

You can’t bear to look up at him any longer, lowering your eyes.

“Don’t. Look up.”

You obey instinctively.

“You’ve already fucked up the kiss, don’t fuck up the dance as well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s already a little too late for that, isn’t it?” he says and leans you back as part of the dance. For just a second you see the world upside down before he lifts you again, holding you against his chest as he twirls over the dance floor with you. It makes your dress dance with you and blurs the world around you. He furrows his brows.

“Did it ever mean anything to you?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes or no? It’s a simple answer.”

“I was desperate and I-”

“Wow.”

“I, I just meant that I don’t know if it meant what it meant to you.”

“Stop talking, seriously.”

You gulp. Jungkook looks away.

“You have to look at me”, you whisper panickedly.

“Don’t worry, the dance is already fucked”, Jungkook says and coincidentally enough, the music switches just this moment. The rest of the pack fills the dance floor, but you barely notice them.

Jungkook steps back and leaves you in the middle of the dance floor. Your chest feels tight. You didn’t want it to come to this. Of course it meant something to you, but he cornered you right now and you tend to say the wrong things under pressure. You didn’t want to give him a dishonest answer, but didn’t have the full answer ready yet. Oh god, this isn’t what you wanted to happen.

Sudden fear fills you. You know instantly that his father is next to you. You force yourself to look at him, holding your breath.

“Ruin this bond, you and your family can look for a new pack. Understood?”

You nod your head fearfully.

“Speak up!”

“Yes! Understood!”

“That’s better. Fucking, bratty omega. Just because my son can’t keep his dick in his pants. I’ll teach him how to discipline you, be sure of that”, he says with a deadly glare and turns his back to you, leaving you in the middle of the dance floor.

You bite back tears.

Alcohol. You need to forget this night. Yes, that’s the solution.

Werewolf bonding parties aren’t that different from human wedding parties. There is good music, delicious food, lots of dancing and even more laughter. There is also, of course, the occasional friendly fighting between two wolves, which may seem scary to a human but is perfectly normal to your species. There is even a saying that if a bonding party doesn’t have friendly fighting, the bond will not last. A part of you had hoped that your party would be such a party just so it wouldn’t be you who ruins the marriage and therefore has to carry the alpha’s wrath. But your wish wasn’t granted the moment you watched Yoongi and Hoseok start a friendly wrestling march next to the margaritas bar.

Speaking of margaritas, you are drunk on them by now. Way too drunk, barely able to stand on two feet.

“Fuck, I need air”, you get out and turn to leave. You run your eyes over the crowd. Your family is by their table, your brother follows you with his eyes. You must be way too drunk because for a second it felt as if he was hunting you with them. You break contact, spotting Jungkook next. He is talking to one of the betas, Seokjin. He also seems terribly drunk. You look away quickly, stumbling past him on your way outside. He follows you with his eyes as you do, but you are too drunk to notice.

The night is cold. A welcome change to the stuffy air inside. Tonight is a new moon. You look up at the moonless sky. Weddings under a new moon mean that they will last long. That’s what the legends say. The new life together starts with the new cycle of the moon. First the fighting, now this. Your marriage seriously wants to last, doesn’t it?

You stumble to a quiet corner, resting against the wall. The music is blurred behind a veil of alcohol and the thick walls of the venue.

The thing is, it’s not that you had to bond with Jungkook which upsets you so much. It is the fact that it had to happen under such circumstances. You are sure that if he didn’t have to mark you in order to save your life, he would have never even thought about taking you as a mate. You know how his family thinks. A wolf with the alpha gen should mate with another wolf with the alpha gen. Bonding with an omega isn’t a thing in Jungkook’s family. And this is what scares you. You are an omega in a family of alphas and his father seems to fucking hate it. What if Jungkook hates it too? He talked about keeping you safe and not wanting to let you go, but he probably didn’t think that he would have to mate with you. He was probably high on his afterglow and talked without thinking.

“Urgh”, you let out, grinding your fangs.

But then, why was he so upset that you hesitated? Was it because he wanted to own you as quickly as possible? But he smelled heartbroken. Someone who is merely upset about not owning you wouldn’t smell like this. This is confusing you so much.

“Who knew that you would be married before me.”

You turn your head to your brother. You must be really drunk because his eyes still seem so different.

“It’s crazy to imagine that you came back and got bonded”, he says.

“Only because you fucked up and I almost had to die for it. Otherwise, Jungkook would have never had to step in and I would have never had to bond with him”, you throw back.

Your brother studies you with furrowed brows.

“Look, I said that I’m sorry and I am. It was an accident. I thought that she was a deer.”

“Tch, sure. I know you were into her. I watched you sneak away sometimes to see her. You got jealous and decided to kill her because you couldn’t bear the thought that she was to be with someone else. Admit it”, you challenge him because you know that it was bullshit. Your brother would never kill someone out of jealousy.

Something changes in your brother’s face, however. Your brother disappears, the face of an ice cold killer stares back at you. The face of a killer who killed before and who would do it again. He steps closer and you instinctively step back. Fear and the desire to flee overcomes you. It is difficult however when he has you cornered. It is a dark corner and there are no people around.

“What, what are you doing? You, you are scary”, you stutter.

“You know, you were never supposed to come back.”

“What?”

“If I were you, I’d be careful with your words from now on”, he warns, dragging the back of his hand down your face, “are we understood, sister?”

You whimper instinctively, avoiding his eyes. His touch feels like sandpaper on your skin. He comes closer. You are so scared.

“Are we under-”, he stumbles back as a strong hand tugs him away from you. It is so rough in fact that he squeaks against his will.

“Do we have a problem here?” Jungkook growls, stepping between you and your brother. He is huffing his air, torso stretching the fabric of his suit because his protectiveness is making his body grow. Your brother tries to take a step closer, but instantly stops with just one deep growl of Jungkook.

Your brother looks at you for a brief moment. The person you once knew is gone from his eyes.

“I was already leaving”, he presses out and turns his back to leave. He knows better than to pick a fight with Jungkook. He gets as far as one step before the latter pulls him back.

He tries to fight him in reaction, but gives up quickly when Jungkook renders him useless with a strong grip on his chin. His claws dimple his skin, threatening to break through. He is towering over your brother by now.

“You are the one who is going to start picking his words carefully from now on. She is under my protection now. Is that clear?”

“Is this supposed to scare me?”

“Don’t test me.” Jungkook hisses, shaking him by his chin. “I’ll let you go tonight because you’re her brother and I don’t wanna break her heart, but you threaten her again and you’re dead. Are we understood?” he snarls his words, eyes dangerously golden and sharp fangs on full display.

“Yes”, your brother croaks out.

“Speak up!” Jungkook barks, shaking him.

“Yes! I’m sorry, yes!”

“Good. Now leave, you’re ruining my wife’s mood”, Jungkook growls and pushes him away.

The man, who was once your brother, stumbles back and runs off with his tail tucked between his legs.

Jungkook stares him down until he truly left and only then, he turns to you. He puts his hands on your upper arms, touching you so gently one might never know how roughly he handled your brother seconds ago. His features are clouded over with worry. His body is smaller again and his muscles shrunk back to their relaxed size.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, studying you worriedly.

You shake your head, gasping for air in small, helpless breaths.

“Hey, sshhh you’re okay now. You’re okay”, he says, hugging you against his chest. One hand is on your back, the other on the back of your head. The calming scent of him engulfs you, masking your own frightened scent.

“People need to stop threatening me tonight”, you get out, sobbing into him.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay”, he keeps repeating the words, placing little kisses all over the crown of your head.

The fight of earlier feels far away to both of you. Especially to him.

It wasn’t long after you stumbled past him, that he followed you outside. At first he followed you with the intent of confronting you again, but then he saw that you were talking to your brother and he stayed back. Because of his heightened senses, he heard everything of your conversation with him. He also smelled your fear even before hearing your whimper and it drove up his desire to protect you to such levels that he has to tremble now that he finally holds you safe and sound.

“You’re okay. I’m here now. I’m here.”

You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes.

“This wasn’t my brother anymore.”

“I know, I’m sorry”, he says, wiping your tears.

“He murdered her. Kook, he is a murderer.”

“I heard everything. I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

“He looked at me as if he wanted to kill me too.”

“I wouldn’t have let him. He’d have been dead if he tried.”

“Kook”, you get out and hide away in his chest.

You smell so sad and heartbroken and scared. Jungkook feels parts of his body cramp from how much he trembles. He wants to protect you more than he already does. It is driving him insane that he can’t do more for you.

“Jungkook, I wanna go home but I don’t…” Your sad scent reaches its peak as tears roll down your cheeks. “I don’t even know where that is anymore”, you press out and sob.

“Hey no, don’t cry. I’ll take you home”, Jungkook says and puts his arm around you to lead you away from the venue. You let your head fall against him, crying loudly because everything is just a lot for you.

“Do we have to tell anyone? Can we just leave? What if they ask questions? I don’t know what to do anymore, I don’t-”

“Hey, everything is gonna be okay. We’re the bridal couple, they’ll just have to accept the fact that we left early.”

You nod your head in understanding. You are so glad that he took control right now. You would have been lost and overwhelmed without him.

You walk home side by side. It happens for comfort reasons that, after a while, you and he stop hugging so close. You are in nothing but your dress and he is in nothing but his suit. The streets are empty and quiet because the entire pack is currently at your wedding party.

You already walked long enough that you managed to calm down from the initial shock. It is an unspoken truth between you and him that you don’t want to talk about what happened. This means, however, that your walk is silent and that feels really awkward.

The town you grew up in hasn’t changed much ever since you were a child. The same trees still grow along the same streets, except that they are a lot taller these days. The same houses are still home to the same people and bonding nights are still held in the town’s sports hall.

Said sports hall is still close to the playground and the way home still leads through it.

You and Jungkook slow down as you walk down a metaphorical memory lane. You scraped your knee on the slide when you were eight and he had to blow on it to make it better. Jungkook sprained his ankle jumping off the swing when he was nine and you had to hold his hand as his mother rubbed it better again. Under the weeping willow, you and your friends played the silly little dares and you had your first kiss with him.

You look away from the tree, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. He looked at it as well. You turn your head away, feeling your throat tighten in panic. Jungkook feels his heart twist in reaction. The better voice in him says not to dwell on it, the love drunk idiot in him tells him to fight for it. He wins in the end.

“Wanna sit on the swings?” he suggests.

“And do what?”

“I don’t know. Swing? Sober up a little?”

You contemplate for a second, nodding your head in the end.

You weren’t even aware of how much you needed to sit until you are on the swing, stretching out your legs. You hate heels. They’re the worst shoes ever invented. You swing back and forth slowly, Jungkook does the same. This is still the same swing set you and he played on twenty years ago. The chains still leave this weird metallic smell on your hands and the rusty hinges seem to creak even more these days. You look up at the sky. The stars are so clear without the moon hiding them in her shine. You know this view all too well. In your left vision there are some branches of a maple tree and in the right a electrical pole is peaking at you. The view is familiar to you because twenty years ago, you and Jungkook sat at the same swing in the same order like you do today.

You dare to glance at him. He is looking at the sky, unaware of your eyes on him. His face is relaxed, his lips slightly parted in awe of the vast universe. His eyes are the darkest brown right now, reflecting the stars. The street lights behind him illuminate the edges of his silhouette, glimmering in parts of his dark hair as well. He is so beautiful when he thinks that no one is looking.

To think that you subconsciously chose the same swing even after all these years. He broke your heart like this fifteen years ago and now you are back, bonded. Your heart feels heavy. You shouldn’t have hesitated. You don’t know how Jungkook feels about this bond, but you get a feeling that you shouldn’t have hesitated.

A gust of wind sweeps through the playground and makes you shiver. Your teeth clatter and you wrap your arms around yourself to rub your freezing skin. He looks at you, studying you.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“It’s fine. I just wasn’t planning on being outside for so long. I only wanted to catch some air for a bit. I’m kinda drunk.”

Jungkook stands up from his swing.

You watch him, confused.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and closes the distance to put it over your shoulders. It is warmed up from him, instantly stilling your shivers. It also smells like him, making you just a little droopy. He hovers his hands over your shoulders because he doesn’t know if you want his touch, talking in a soft voice.

“Is this better?”

“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, feeling your heart race.

“Good. Keep it. I’m too hot anyway”, he says and leaves your side to sit down next to you.

He swings back and forth gently, watching some leaves dance on the ground as the wind carries them. Now is the perfect opportunity to talk, but he feels mute. He doesn’t want to fuck it up. Or perhaps he just doesn’t want to get hurt again.

He dances his eyes over the playground, reminiscing on all the memories he shares with you here. You and he could have been so right and then his father fucked him up. Jungkook forces down the heavy lump in his throat.

“What’s wrong?”

He looks at you with widened eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m an omega. I can smell when people around me are upset.”

“Ah. I don’t know. I guess, just thinking of old stuff”, he says and rubs the side of his neck.

“Yeah. Lots of memories here”, you say and sigh.

Jungkook sees it as his cue to ask you what he had planned to ask you before he witnessed you with your brother instead.

“Why did you hesitate?”

You almost fall off the swing in shock. Jungkook takes your hand, providing you with support. He feels vast of air when you instinctively squeeze him back and intertwine your fingers deeper. There they are again. Those mixed signals. You say one thing, but do the other. You do another thing, but say the complete opposite. Jungkook can barely take the confusion anymore, repeating his question again.

“I get it that you were nervous, but it looked like you didn’t want to kiss me at all. Why?”

“I just…”, you pull your hand back, swinging gently to soothe yourself.

Jungkook swings as well, looking at you.

“All of this is a lot for me. I went from a normal woman to a sex slave by a snatch to an omega marked, to a wife in the span of two weeks. This is a lot to work through.”

“Yeah, when you put it like this, it really is.”

“I didn’t think that our little stunt in the shed would lead to this.”

“Yeah honestly, neither did I. I thought that they would want us to date for a little and that’s it.”

“Yeah”, you agree and glance at him. “I’m scared that you are only doing this because your dad forced you. That’s why I hesitated. I saw the way he looked at me.”

“Don’t think about him. He is old and unhappy. He didn’t force me. Not when I…I dreamt of having you as my wife ever since I’ve known you.”

“What?”

You stop swinging. Jungkook stops as well, turning with the swing to face you.

“I think that’s why I kissed you. The priest wanted to announce that it’s invalid and I panicked and went in. I just needed to know that this wouldn’t be lost forever.”

“Oh my god, you dreamed of bonding with me?” you press out, eyes full of emotions.

“Ever since I’ve known you. Well, you know, ever since I knew what bonding meant. I always wanted it to be with you.”

“Kook…”

He rests his head against the metal chain, reaching his hands out for you. You turn with your swing and take his hands, feeling your pulse in your neck because of how high he raises it. His thumbs draw hearts on your skin, his eyes are so soft.

“Yeah, I guess it’s out there now”, he says, laughing softly.

“It is”, you whisper and squeeze his hands.

Jungkook squeezes them right back, smiling with his eyes before it washes over his lips as well.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this on the same swing set you best friend broke up with me when we were twelve.”

He laughs, lifting his brows for it. It’s such a cute laugh, making you laugh with him.

“Correction, where I was forced to best friend break up with you ‘cause my dad is a control freak.”

“Right. I’m sorry that your dad sucks.”

"Yeah, I guess I got used to it. He’s my dad, that’s how he is.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook says and lets go of your hands to twirl back to the front. He takes a deep breath and stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“If I remember correctly, you always loved the swing the most.”

“I did, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

He walks behind you and puts his hands on the chain of the swing.

“Hold on tight.”

“Huh? Oh!”

He pushes you, making you swing back and forth. You squeal, having to laugh afterwards. Jungkook snickers with you, pushing you a second time to make you swing higher. Your shared laughter dances through the playground and in this short moment in life’s series of moments, you and he feel like kids again. There are no responsibilities lingering in the back of your heads, no fears of the future, no stresses of past days nor dreams ruined by reality. You and he are twelve again, using the swings after a long day of playing adventurers in the forests. The stars shine brighter and the wind doesn’t feel that cold anymore. You are alive again, flying to the very stars with each push Jungkook gives you.

“Not too high please, I’ll get scared”, you squeal, feeling tears of laughter run down your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I won’t push you too high. I never did, remember?”

You and he talk as he continues to push you on the swing.

“If I remember correctly, you sometimes pushed me way too high because you were a gremlin like that.”

“A gremlin? Wow, okay”, he laughs and pushes you extra hard as playful revenge.

“Hey! No, it’s too high!” you squeak, laughing way too much.

Jungkook does it again.

“Kook please! I’m gonna fall, ah!”

And it happens. Your drunk ass falls off the swing. You squeal, preparing for impact which never comes. Instead he catches you in his strong arms, looking down at you with protective, caring eyes.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, watching his lips move. You giggle, dropping your head on his shoulder, “fuck, I’m too clumsy for this.”

“Hah, yeah.”

Jungkook noticed that you looked at his lips. For just a second, he wanted to kiss you. In the end, he didn’t. He won’t ever kiss you again without your consent.

He sets you down gently, holding both your hands against his chest. You look up at him, feeling a little robbed of air. His eyes race between yours as if he trying to build connection between your souls with just one look.

“I promise to be a good husband to you. No harm shall ever come to you through my hands and if I should ever break this promise, it is your right to strike me down. You have my body as protection and my heart to find a home in, ___. You always have and you always will.”

“You keep saying that. Does it mean..?”

“It does. It means that I love you and that I’ll do anything to make you happy.” He exhales shakily. “I know that you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry again that I kissed you. Please, can you forgive-”

You put your finger on his lips, silencing him. He whimpers a little because of it.

“Can I say something now? Please?”

“Of course”, he says and steps back, fumbling with his own hands nervously.

“I’m not mad at you anymore that you kissed me. I, I was planning to kiss you, I was. I just, I saw your dad and he wasn’t howling and then I thought that we’re only in this situation because you had to save me. And I panicked and I was scared that we’d regret it and yeah.”

He nods his head in understanding, lowering his eyes sadly. You take his hand.

“It meant something to me too.”

He meets your emotional eyes, feeling emotional himself.

“It meant something to me, maybe not the same as it did to you but it did mean something to me. I wanted to tell you this, but didn’t know how. I get nervous when I’m cornered and I forget my words and then say dumb stuff.”

“I get it. I’m sorry that I cornered you. I guess I have the tendency to be pushy when I’m nervous. I shouldn’t have cornered you, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah well, I should have said something. I liked what we did in the shed and it meant something to me.” You put his hand on your stomach. “You were alive inside me and it was the best feeling I ever experienced.”

Jungkook sighs your name, instinctively drawing closer to you.

“But we also barely know each other as adults. What if we realize that we’re not right as mates once we get to know each other?”

“I don’t think that will happen. I’m still the same than I was before, just older.”

“You’re an alpha these days.”

“I am and I’ll use this status to provide for you and to keep you safe. I promise.”

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at him with those same puppy eyes you had in the shed.

Jungkook feels weak in the knees. Those eyes are lethal to him.

“Yes, really. All I want is someone to provide for, someone to care for and protect. And for that someone to be you. I just. I wanna keep you safe, ___”, he says.

“Oh”, you let out and exhales shakily.

“Mhm, yeah”, he breathes and brushes the back of his fingers down your temple.

“But”, you begin.

“Yes?”

“But not too much. I don’t want you to get hurt”, you say and trace his upper lip. The cut healed by now, but the memory of how it looked is still in your mind. Jungkook chases your touch, closing his fingers around your wrists. He holds you tenderly, tracing the spots most sensitive with his thumbs.

“Alright, not too much”, he whispers, smiling softly.

You share silence, looking at the other. Jungkook is the one to break it.

“We’ll get to know each other again and it’s gonna be nice. I want to make this work”, he whispers.

“I wanna make it work too. Not for the sake of my safety or anything, but because I wanna love you too.”

“You do?”

You nod your head.

Jungkook exhales shakily, closing the distance for a kiss. He stops just a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

You give him your answer by erasing the remaining distance, connecting your lips with his’. His knees buckle, his arms instantly fall around you to hold you close. The world around you seems non-existent as your lips are lost in the kind of kiss a bonded couple should exchange. It is epic. Jungkook feels so alive. He knows that if he tried hard enough, he could touch the stars.

You feel the same. This kiss is your reminder that whatever you and he have is out of your control. It is a bond made by fate, formed under a new moon. This is how you felt in the shed when he was alive inside you.

Those feelings are heightened because of the alcohol, forcing you closer to him. Which makes him lose control for just a second, ending in you pressed up against the swing set post and with his hand on your lower back.

It knocks out a soft moan from you. Jungkook answers it in a deep purr, sliding his right hand to your cheek to tilt your head higher. He sucks on your lower lip, ending it with a gentle bite.

The effect is instant for you. Slick begins to gather between your legs, your head gets droopy and everything inside you screams at you to give yourself to him.

Breathing shakily, you break the kiss. He stays close, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

“Oh my god”, you whisper, tracing your own lips. They’re tingling from what he did.

“Yeah. Right?” he agrees, scrunching his nose and stubbing your temple with his forehead in a gesture of adoration. “Who’d have known that we’d kiss like this here”, he says, gazing at you.

Your eyes soften in submission. Jungkook feels drawn to you beyond repair.

“Keep looking at me with those eyes and we won’t reach home tonight”, he rasps, touching your waist as he basically undresses you with his eyes. “I’d take you right here and now. Make you feel so good that you see new constellations.”

Drunk you cannot handle talk like this, breaking into giddy giggles and hiding away in his chest.

“Are you laughing at me?” he gasps.

“No, oh god no. It’s just, nobody ever talked to me like this before”, you explain yourself between giggles, nuzzling closer.

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing your back.

“Get used to it. I realised that I’m kinda outta control when it comes to you. Maybe it’s the alpha gen.”

“Maybe”, you look up at him with pretty puppy eyes, arms wrapped around his waist and chin resting against his chest.

He stubs your nose with his own, hands groping your butt possessively.

“Stop looking at me.”

“It’s hard. When you touch me, I also lose control. I think it’s the omega gen.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just a lightweight.”

“Hah! So you’re saying I’m just drunk?”

“Basically, yeah.”

You snicker, Jungkook grins.

“Come on, let’s go home before I actually do something indecent to you.”

You gladly let him hold your hand now that his kiss triggered your affectionate instincts, following him in happy steps.

Your walk home ends at Jungkook’s house. Two stories high and with a big garden surrounding it, it was one of the more luxurious houses in town.

“This is where we’ll live?”

“If you want to. I figured, you know, given how you still live with your parents and I’m living alone, we could use my place. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Yes? Great then we can get your stuff in the coming days. But for now, let me do this right”, he says and swoops you off your feet.

“Ah”, you let out, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you over the threshold. Why?”

“Nothing, it’s so”, you stop talking to giggle instead, nuzzling your nose against his cheek. “It’s so cheesy.”

Jungkook chuckles, heart racing in his chest. He kicks the door closed behind him and does a twirl in the middle of his hallway.

“Wait! I’m too drunk for this! Eeek”, you squeak, hiding away in his neck. “Please stop, I’m too dizzy.”

Luckily for you, Jungkook listens. He stops and sets you down, holding you close as you sway.

“This wasn’t funny. Oh god, I’m dizzy”, you laugh, dropping your forehead against his chest. He rests his cheek against your head, talking in a chuckle.

“See? Told you. Total lightweight.”

“I’m not a lightweight. You’re just a gremlin”, you say and shove at his chest. He laughs, holding your hands.

“You’re adorable. Come, dance with me”, he says, placing your left hand on his neck and holding the other.

“Dance? Right now?”

“Yeah. Just you and I. We’ll do it right this time.”

“But I’m dizzy.” You step on his foot, making him groan. “And I have two left feet when drunk. Sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m more than okay”, he says, smiling at you as your bodies move to silent melodies.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, baby. Just look at me”, he whispers, right hand on your lower back. It is so warm.

You look up at him. The pull is magnetic and fucking electric. You are so attracted to him. He has you feeling drunker than any amount of alcohol ever could. You are so fuzzy inside because of all the laughing you have been doing.

“You have the most beautiful eyes ever”, Jungkook whispers, raising your pulse with it.

“Kook, I”, you begin, eyes flitting to his lips. Merely seeing the shape of them is enough to reignite the flames in your stomach. Dancing becomes a little harder now that you are so excited.

“What’s the matter?” he whispers.

“It’s embarrassing”, you confess with a heated face.

“Tell me.”

“No, it’s so stupid. I don’t even wanna do it but it just happens.”

He guides his touch from your lower back to your waist. Gentle and loving but insanely possessive at the same time. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

You hesitate.

“Promise.”

“I’m, uh, there is slick.”

Jungkook draws closer, making you chase his kiss.

“Shit. There is?”

“Yeah”, you whimper.

He lowers his eyes, making you taste the idea of his kiss. It makes you so desperate for him.

“Is this normal for you or….”

You shake your head, “it never happened before. Not like this. Or that easily. I don’t know, I’m sorry, I can’t stop it.”

“Holy fuck. Baby.”

“It’s so stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Just kiss me.”

You kiss him. At least you try to because before your lips can touch, you step on his toes again. Vigorously.

“Ouch, hey”, he gasps, flinching back.

“Sorry! Oh my god, sorry. Are you okay?"

“Ah fuck”, he laughs, “yeah, I’m okay. You’re a terrible dancer.”

“Hey”, you pout.

He chuckles and pecks your cheek.

“I want to show you one thing before we make it official”, he says.

“Show me, please.”

“Follow me. You can leave your shoes by the door.”

Jungkook’s home is somehow exactly how you imagined it to be. It is neat and tidy, but doesn’t really have a lot of character. The rooms are spacious with little furniture filling them. The furniture is modern and there are barely any decorations present. It is the house of someone who doesn’t feel at home in it. The desire to make it cozy and homey for him becomes stronger and stronger within you. There are already a million ideas swarming your head.

“You’re quiet. Do you not like it here?” Jungkook asks you.

“No, it’s not that. I’m thinking.”

"About what?”

“It’s gonna sound silly.”

“Tell me.”

“I already have so many ideas on how to make it cozier here. Sorry, I know it’s your house and everything.”

Jungkook steps close and cradles your face, making you look up at him.

“And it’s your home. Make it as cozy as you want to”, he speaks softly, eyes warm and caring.

“Really?”

He nods, kissing your forehead.

“This place never felt like a home to me anyway. It can use the caring touch of an omega.”

You can’t explain how he makes you feel because you never experienced it before. The best way to describe it is cozy and safe. You want to curl up close to him and be yourself with him. This is how he makes you feel. As if you are allowed to be your truest You.

“Speaking of cozy omegas, we’re here.”

“Here where?”

“My surprise for you. I worked hard on it these past few days.”

He opens the door for you, allowing you view of one of the coziest rooms you have ever seen. It is filled with soft surfaces to lie on. A bed, a big sofa, some bean bags, a window bench. Curtains frame the window and the bed. The floor is covered in soft rugs. There are pillows to sink into on every surface and he installed fairy lights on the wall and the bed frame.

“What’s this?” you gasp.

“It’s your nest.”

You look at him. He is clearly nervous, smelling of it as well.

“I’m still new to the entire omega heat thing. I know that they’re a thing, obviously, and I know that you like to get cozy for them. I looked up nest inspirations online. It told me that you like lots of pillows and blankets and that I should make it cozy and warm. You can totally change everything in this room, of course.” He touches the side of his neck. “I just thought that I’d try to make it comfortable for you. At least maybe? I don’t know, I just wanna make it nice for you.”

Your lower lip trembles.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna make you cry. Is it that bad? I’m sorry, I suck at interior design.”

You shake your head and fall around his neck, “thank you.”

Jungkook closes his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You smell of happiness right now.

“Does this mean you like it?” he asks.

“I love it so much. I never had a nest before. I’m so happy.”

“You are?”

“Yes, so much.”

You step back, giving him a smile. Jungkook retorts it. You giggle and turn so you can hurry through the room.

Jungkook watches you, enjoying the droopy feelings in his chest. The longer you are in the room and the more details you spot, the stronger your scent of happiness gets. It almost fills up the entire room by now, making him feel so warm and complete. He feels at home in his house for the very first time.

“This is so cozy, oh my god. So soft, wow. I love this colour, holy moly. Wow. So cozy. Wow”, you gush and gasp as you inspect everything and anything.

You end up dropping into one of the beanbags, nuzzling into it as deep as possible while you purr in contentment.

Jungkook feels his knees buckle. He got you to purr. Holy fuck, he was seriously placed on this earth to treat you right.

He closes the distance between you and him, kneeling down in front of you. He comes closer, putting his weight on his elbow which he rests on the beanbag above your head. He leans down to kiss your cheek.

You stop your nuzzling, gasping quietly as his sudden closeness surprises you. You look up and can’t look away again.

“You’re the most beautiful bride I have ever seen”, he whispers, cradling your cheek with his other hand.

“Oh”, you let out, feeling dizzy.

“No wonder I had to kiss you.” He furrows his brows. “I know I shouldn’t have done this and I’m sorry.”

“I’m not angry anymore. You built me a nest”, you tear up, “Jungkook, please give me my bonding night. I want to be with you.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“So sure, please. I can’t take it anymore.” You shiver. “I keep producing slick and I’m so cold without you and, and I wanna feel that good again. Like we did in the shed. I, I wanna feel like this again. Please.”

Jungkook closes his fist on the beanbag, trying to keep himself at bay. His instincts threaten to kick in when you beg like this.

“Do you want it here?”

“Yes, please.”

“And you know what I’ll do to you? What might happen again?”

You deepen the lethalness of your puppy eyes, taking his hand to put it over your stomach. You whisper your words, turning him into puddy.

“I want to feel alive again. Together with you.”

“Holy fuck, ___”, Jungkook croaks and goes in for a kiss. He growls and stops himself. “I need you to say that you understand. Please, don’t make me do it without hearing it first.”

“Yes, Kook. I know what you’ll do to me. I need you to, please.”

“Thank you. Oh my god baby, I wanna treat you so right”, he croaks out and finally falls into the kiss. “I’ll never ever force myself onto you again. Never. Fucking never. Holy fuck, baby”, he babbles between kisses, turning you into a weak, turned on mess. “Wanna treat you so right. My baby. Mine.”

His touch is everywhere at the same time, unable to decide where to find its home. It feels so good. Each spot he touches, tingles and heats up. Whenever he changes spots, it leaves behind shivers and goosebumps before the entire process repeats itself again.

You want to keep kissing him, but soon have to stop because of his touch. You have to gasp for air, you would suffocate otherwise.

Jungkook, barely holding onto the threat of humanity by now, doesn’t see any problem in being denied your lips. He kisses a path to your neck hungrily. Your aroused smell becomes stronger and stronger the closer he gets to your scent glands. He knows how good it feels when someone kisses his scent spots and he wonders if it is the same for you.

He kisses the spot on your left side, forcing you to arch your back and gasp loudly. You instinctively grasp his back.

“Do you like this?” he rasps his words, nibbling on the sensitive spot. You smell so good. Jungkook has never felt such an obsession with another’s scent before. He needs it all over his body, melted with his skin so everyone can smell who his heart belongs to. He can’t stop kissing you, picking up more and more of your scent.

“Does this feel good?” he asks again because you were too busy gasping the first time.

“Ye-yeah”, you gasp out, staring at the ceiling in shock. Your fingers twitch and tremble on his back, claws threatening to come out and slice open his shirt.

What is happening to you? You were kissed on your neck before, but this feels different. This feels lethal, fateful, like it is changing the way you view pleasure. You have never felt so electric before and so close to losing control.

“You smell so good, I can’t get enough.”

“Wow, oh god, wow…”

Jungkook stays on your left side until he can smell your arousal on his lips. Only then, does he kiss a sloppy path to your right side. He moans when he witnesses you roll your head to the side willingly and he moans again when he goes in to worship your hard working scent spot. And it is working hard. Fucking hell, you smell like pure sex and arousal. Jungkook huffs it up hungrily, biting and licking at the delicious spot.

All while you stare and gasp and lose control over yourself. The bites feel so good. You want to squirm and moan. Your head is fuzzy, your body so weakened. What is happening? What the fuck is happening to you? You can’t stop producing more slick. You are so hot. Seriously, so fucking hot. Oh god, you can’t think anymore. Anything you can think is how much you need him to fuck you.

“Seriously, fuck”, Jungkook comes up for air, mouthing at your cheek drunkenly, “you smell so good. I feel high.”

“I wanna be naked”, you croak out, arching your back. You don’t have many thoughts except desire and sex. Being naked is all you crave right now. If you’re naked, Jungkook can potentially bite more parts of you. This is the logic of your fuzzy mind and it is driving you crazy that it isn’t your reality yet.

“Sit up then and let me open your dress.”

You obey gladly, almost dry heaving in desire. Jungkook reaches behind you and opens your dress. He wanted to pull it off slowly to make the moment romantic, but you shrug it off quickly for him.

He meets your eyes. They are golden and clouded in desire.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks.

“Why not?”

“I never saw you naked before.”

“Oh.” A little clarity returns to your eyes. “Right.”

He can smell hints of coyness in your scent. And a little bit of nervousness.

“Wrap your arms around me.”

You obey his order and like this, Jungkook is able to lift you out of your dress and carry you to bed. He lays you down carefully, straddling your lap without sitting down.

You are below him in nothing but your underwear, feeling small and fragile, but so safe.

“Do you wanna take it slower?” he suggests.

“No, just nervous that’s all.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. We can slow down whenever you need to.”

“Okay”, you whisper and make puppy eyes at him, “can you, uhm, can you bite me more?”

“Yes. Wow this is…hah. Of course”, he lets out, “first, let me match you.”

He is getting undressed. First his tie, then he opens his buttons. His shirt leaves him first, next his belt and last his slacks. He stays in his briefs, heavy cock straining the fabric as much as he soaks it.

Now sharing in your state of undress, he leans down, taking your hands to pin them gently. He kisses you, blurring your thoughts into one big mess of arousal and safety. His thumbs caress your hands as he kisses you. Your scent is on his face, forcing even more slick to run out of you. Any sort of nervousness you felt is getting wiped out with each new kiss you share. He tastes so goddamn good. His lips are soft and the piercings on them are so exciting to feel.

The kiss breaks when air is sparse. Jungkook stays close to paint paths of worship down your body. He bites the softest spots and sucks marks of ownership on the firmer spots. And you are in heaven, wishing for him to never stop. Such heavenly feelings are unfamiliar to you. You had people mark you before, but it didn’t feel like this. With Jungkook, you need him to continue. You need to know that every single inch of you is marked by him in one way or the other. Whether it be a bite mark, a kiss spot or his scent, you need it on your body and each time he gives it to you, you leak more slick. It is out of your control, unfamiliar and amazing. So amazing.

Jungkook is lingering over your sternum right now, hot breath tickling your skin. His strong hands are holding you under your armpits, reminding you that you were owned by the safest lover.

“I know it’s difficult for you, but please stop me if I go too fast. I can’t stop myself once I let go, so I need you to yell it at me.”

“Please. Don’t stop. Please, you feel so good”, you sigh, writhing.

“Wow, I….fuck, I want you”, he rasps, having to kiss every inch of you. “I want you. I want you so bad.”

“Ah…please…don’t stop…”

Jungkook reaches your breasts. They are swollen and plumb from arousal. They aren’t always like this. When you are feeling normal, they also look and feel normal. They are how breasts are supposed to be, sagging from gravity and soft when lying down. Not right now. They stay in place. They are a little bigger, plumber and hot to the touch. They also smell like your arousal. Even through the fabric of your bra. It is so much sweeter and richer than it was on your neck. Jungkook moans like a druggy having found his drug, going in for a taste with an open mouth and way too much tongue.

“Ah”, you whimper, following it up with a submissive mewl. You are losing control again and it feels so good. Why does everything he does feel so good? It is as if you are a virgin being touched for the very first time, which is insane because you definitely aren’t.

“Your skin’s so soft and warm. I can’t get enough of you”, he mumbles between his hungry kisses, turning you into puddy. You lost sense of how much more you can still take before you burst.

His masculine, possessive hands hold your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh desperately. His spit soaks the fabric of your bra, leaving behind spots of coldness whenever he moves on to a new spot.

It happens again. You experience sensations you have never felt before. People played with your tits before, you played with them as well but it never felt like this. It never felt so otherworldly. They are so swollen. You can’t breathe because there is so much pressure building up behind your nipples. You throw your hand over your mouth to muffle the overwhelmed sob, twisting the sheets with your other hand. It hurts. The pressure really hurts not to be taken care of.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to hear your panicked whimper because he doesn’t slow down in his feast.

“Your scent, I’m so high. It’s insane, holy fuck, so good…”

It gets too much for you. The pressure hurts so much. You’re scared. What is happening to you?

Jungkook squeezes your breasts and bites down gently. The pressure bursts. You wail, arching your back as warmth trickles out of your nipples, soaking your bra.

The sweet scent of it hits his nose instantly. He tenses up and shudders, cock threatening to burst through his briefs.

“What the-”

Jungkook’s instincts tell him to rip your bra off and lick up the sweet scent, but he forces himself to be stronger than them. It is you who lies below him in such a vulnerable state. If he took advantage of that, he would never forgive himself.

“Jungkook, help me. Please. I’m scared”, you beg him in a quivering voice.

“Try to focus on me. Focus baby, right here”, he tells you, cradling your cheeks.

Your eyes search aimlessly for a moment, but soon find their home in his gaze.

“Koo”, you whimper, grabbing his wrists, “I’m scared. What is happening to me?”

“I don’t know. It never happened to me before. My instincts tell me to clean it for you, but I don’t know if you want this.”

“Please, it hurts. Just make it stop, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please”, you sob.

“Sit up.”

You barely manage to obey. Jungkook supports you, using his other hand to open your bra and tug it off of you. He throws it to the side, helping you lie down again.

Your breasts, normally victims to gravity, stay plumb and perky as you lie down. It is yet another proof that whatever he is doing to you is working beyond comprehension.

“Holy fuck, ___, your tits”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at them in total awe. They are seriously so swollen, your nipples are so hard and they seem to keep leaking pearlescent liquid. “You’re so beautiful, but holy fuck they’re so swollen. Baby, wow.,”

“I don’t know what’s happening. They’re so… so…there’s so much pressure.”

“I can’t. Oh god.”

If only you and he knew that this is happening to you because he stimulated your scent glands. If only you knew that simulation of said glands only works this well with your true mate. You could have a hundred other men play with your tits the same way Jungkook did, but your body would never fall into such helplessness with any of them. Only he will get you to such levels of pleasure. Because it is only his mouth which is destined to taste your sweet pleasure.

You and he are unaware of this fact however, because this is still new to both of you.

“What, what do you need me to do?” He stutters, salivating.

“I don’t know. Your instincts, I don’t- ah.”

“Right.” His eyes glow golden. “My instincts”, he growls and gives in to the voices. “Stay still, I’ll take care of it.”

He picks up your tits and squeezes them together so your nipples are close to each other. He lowers his dripping mouth to them, taking in your right first but with the intention that your left will follow very soon.

His instincts tell him to stimulate your nipples with soft bites first until they are throbbing and then change to sucking them. He listens to his instincts, getting you to moan so loudly that his cock throbs painfully.

“Is this working, baby?” he asks, drooling all over your sweet nipples.

“Oh god, yeah”, you croak, arching your back. You twist the sheets, curling your toes. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Koo thank you…”

“Fuuuck baby, so hot”, he drags out his words until it turns into a growl instead, loving you oh so right.

He bites and bites, licks whenever you sob and bites some more, all while his strong fingers knead your plumpness. And then it happens. You arch your back and wail up as his stimulation finally forces your breasts to tighten and throb. Liquid shoots into his mouth and down his throat. It is the sweetest taste he ever had on his tongue, intoxicating him beyond saving. Jungkook’s eyes roll back, he thinks that for a second he blacks out before he comes back to be totally guided by his instincts.

He gurgles and moans, sucking the sweet nectar from your right nipple while his fingers play with your left just to keep it ready for him. It is a messy business and whenever he changes sides, he has to lick up the mess he made before he can suck on your nipple. It is not a terrible fate. On the contrary, it’s heaven. For both. Jungkook has never felt this high before while you love his tongue on your body. He is so hot and soft, giving you the perfect contrast to the sharp bites his fangs give you.

“Kook oh god, Kook ah! Ah! A-ah!”

You spill tears, grabbing your own face to muffle yourself and make sense of what is happening to you. This is life altering. You are in a constant state of genuine orgasmic bliss and it doesn’t want to die down. You can literally feel how Jungkook sucks the liquid out of you, relieving you of the painful pressure as he does it. It helps so much, while at the same time making everything worse.

He might help you with the nectar of your breasts, but your body still keeps producing slick. And it is getting dangerously full inside you. Your panties feel like imprisonment to your cunt.

You twist a bundle of his hair, sobbing in ecstasy and desperation.

“Koo, I’m scared, it’s so good”, you sob, trembling.

Your touch motivates him. He is starving for you even though he is currently feasting on you. He seemed to have sucked you dry. No matter how much he bites and sucks, your nipples stay dry. The starvation remains. He needs more of you.

“More, give me more please”, he orders, growling his words between vigorous sucks.

“I, I can’t. Ah, Kook ah.”

“Fuck, I can’t stop. You’re so sweet.”

He can’t take a break, he needs more of you. He lets your scent guide him. It gets stronger and stronger, the closer he comes to your cunt. Don’t be mistaken however, it is not your pussy which calls him, but your inner thighs. Your scent glands to be more specific. Working overtime to produce your arousing smell and begging for attention. They are the most sensitive of your scent spots, but you don’t know that yet. You had men kiss you there before, but none of them were Jungkook. None were your mate.

Jungkook shoves your legs open and buries his face in your right thigh with a growl. His fingers dimple your softness, his fangs tickle your skin. Not long and he bites you.

Your entire body reacts to it. You tense and flinch as if he shocked you, letting out a howl of surprise. Your empty cunt aches, craving nothing more than him.

Jungkook lifts his head, eyes droopy and drugged and lips still glossy from your tits.

“Is like a drug. You is like a drug”, he lulls his words and drops his face back in your thigh. Your left one for a change. He kisses and licks it, grabbing your waist possessively. He holds you with such strength that he even manages to bring it in a little, forcing you to burn in a fire you were never in before.

“I fucking want you, fucking need you, fuck can’t get enough.”

“I’m so hot, I-I’m so hot.”

“So hot, so fucking soft. Fuck, your smell drives me insane.”

“Oh god, Kook. I’m so hot.”

The thing about omegas and heats is that it isn’t as common as one might think. Before an omega has reached maturity, heats obviously aren’t a thing. Afterwards, they are manageable when living with other family members. They feel more as if you were bad mooded and grumpy. You managed to sleep them off whenever they happened.

Burning in this unfamiliar fire as Jungkook repeatedly bites your sensitive scent spots makes you realize that perhaps you have never truly experienced a real heat before. Maybe it slumbers in an omega until they are with their true mate. Maybe the grumpy days are just nature’s way of saving the omega of embarrassing moments in front of family.

You can’t explain why you know, but this is it. This is the real deal. Jungkook stimulated your sensitive glands for long enough that he forces you to go into heat. It feels different from anything you have ever experienced, it even feels different from the thing you thought to be your heat when he was with you in the shed. You were wrong back then, this is it. This is the real thing.

And it scares you so much that you beg for him. He comes up when hearing your distraught, cradling your face. He is clearly far away, seeming changed as well. The only thing having forced him away from you is his stronger instinct of keeping you safe. His dark hair is a mess, his eyes are foggy.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he lulls his words.

“I’m, I’m in heat.”

“What? It can happen like this?”

“When you bit my scent spots, it made me…oh god, please make it stop please.”

“What, uhm, what do you need?”

“You. Please fuck me. I beg you.”

“Holy fuck, I-” Jungkook stops himself, growling deeply and twisting the pillow above your head, “something’s wrong with me. I’m losing control over myself.”

“Koo”, you croak, touching his chest. He is burning up, muscles swollen and tense. His heart races like crazy, unnaturally fast at that.

“What is happening to me?” he stresses.

“I don’t know.”

If only you and he knew that his accidental efforts of forcing you into heat, forced him into his ruts with you. If only you knew that these are the effects of being with your true mate. If only you knew that the only remedy is sex. But you don’t know and so you and he are fated to stumble through the unknown, still doing the right things because your instincts are stronger than anything else. It is as if your bodies do the talking without you and him having to speak their language yet. It is most certain that you will be fluent in it one day.

“I want to rip your panties off.”

"Please do.”

Jungkook gives in and does as he wants. He rips your panties off, throwing the thin piece of fabric over his shoulder. He rips off his own briefs next, discarding the fabric. His heavy, thick cock slaps your stomach. He is so big and swollen by now that he can barely stand up despite his hardened nature. His slick pools in your navel and smears all over your skin.

“Holy fuck, urgh fuck”, he drops his head in your neck, “it hurt so much to keep it in.”

“Kook, you’re so heavy.”

“I know, I’m so hard that I can’t keep it standing. I…” He lifts his head, cradling your cheek. “Say you want me.”

“I want you.”

Jungkook shifts his hips so his cock probes at your entrance. You whimper and open your legs widely, putting them around his meaty thighs.

“Just the tip”, he whispers.

“What? No”, you get out and pout.

Jungkook chuckles, cradling your cheek.

“You know, like last time.”

“Oh”, a giggle shakes you and makes your face glow.

He chuckles, soaking up the moment of honest happiness like a dried up sponge would water. Each time he hears your laugh, he falls more in love with you.

“Just the tip when it didn’t mean anything and we shouldn’t have done it.”

Your giggle changes into a sigh of his name. You gaze into his eyes, building soul consuming connection.

“Right?”

“Right.”

Jungkook allows his tip to fill you. Just enough to let you feel that he was finally there with you. You whimper, spilling tears of relief.

Jungkook wipes them, spilling his own tears. He loves you. This is it. The moment it is official that you are mates. And it happens exactly how he always dreamed it would. You under him, looking so vulnerable and safe as he can gaze into your eyes and see your face change in pleasure.

“This means everything to me”, he croaks out and buries himself inside you to the base. “Ah.” He twists the pillow.

“Oh god. Ah.”

“Too deep? Hurts?”

“No, it’s perfect. I feel, ah, I feel whole.”

Jungkook moans your name, eyes filling with emotion.

You touch his messy hair, scratching him behind his ear. Jungkook shivers, eyes threatening to roll back. You are stimulating one of his scent spots, forcing him deeper into his ruts.

“Okay. If you. Fuck. This is my scent spot. It feels. Ahm. I, I have to fuck you”, he struggles with his words, cock throbbing inside you as if it had his own pulse.

Throb. Throb. Throb.

He fills you with more of his slick each time he twitches. It tingles whenever he does.

“Please don’t hold back. Fuck me like you need to, please”, you whimper, shaking in agony. You tickle his scent spot especially good and it’s over for him.

Jungkook’s fingers slip from control. He can’t hold back anymore. He knows that you can take it.

He pulls out only to slam into you again in a deep, passionate rhythm. In and out. In and out. It is endless and harsh and feels so fucking good.

Your eyes instantly roll back and stay there. Your fingers dimple the nape of his neck as you clutch him for dear life. Jungkook himself can’t keep his eyes focused, gazing at you through a veil of blurriness.

“Is this good for you?” he gets out through gritted teeth.

“Good”, you wail, writhing in ecstasy.

“Fuck, I’m fucking high on you.”

He thought that he knew the feeling of your cunt but this is different. This actually forces him to listen to nothing but his instincts. He thought that he was out of control in the shed, but he wasn’t. This is it. You are so hot around him, so soft and you are filled with slick to the very brim. It is Jungkook’s task to fuck it out of you in heavy, strong thrusts, making a mess of your bodies and the sheets in the process. He isn’t aware of it yet but this gives you so much relief. You were bursting inside and now it is finally leaving you. There is no muscle in your body which isn’t currently puddy. Everything you exist for right now is to be fucked by him. There is no other sensation to you than that of his thick cock reshaping your insides.

“Baby, this is a lot. Holy fuck, this is argh”, Jungkook gets out, scrunching his face in anger. He wants to go deeper, but he can’t. It pisses him off, makes him want to break shit. He knows it’s this stupid position. Fucking good for nothing. Who thinks of something that unfavourable? (Jungkook will think back to this moment once he is clear in his head and wonder why he hated missionary so much.) But he hates it right now. He can’t even see himself inside you, his base is barely inside.

“More, I need more”, he growls and pulls out.

“No please, please it hurts please”, you instantly beg.

“Patient, I’m rearranging you.”

Jungkook takes your legs and guides them into a better position. You let him reshape you. This is what your body currently exists for and wants. It needs someone as strong and dominant as Jungkook to bend it to his will. Each second where he handles you feels like heaven.

He puts your legs over his shoulders.

“Hands.”

You obey, giving them to him. He puts them on your own thighs, squeezing them against the back of them.

“Hold them for me there. I want you to feel yourself shake.”

“Yes”, you whimper.

“Good omega. What a perfect thing you are”, he lulls and slides his hands to your ankles. He picks them off his shoulders and lifts them up. Like this, he opens you for him. Your butt is lifted off the sheets, your cunt instantly gushes out masses of slick.

“I can’t keep it in”, you confess.

“It’s good, baby. You don’t have to. Relax”, Jungkook assures you in a hungry whisper, eyes a deep gold and mesmerised by you. He moves his hips close and buries his heavy cock back in you.

You mewl, curling your toes. Slick drips onto the sheets as it makes space for his girthy length, you feel whole again.

“There we go, fuck”, Jungkook growls and bottoms out. He stays there for nothing but a second before he pulls out again to pick up a punishing rhythm.

It feels so good that your eyes roll back and you resort to moaning and wailing for him. Jungkook moans with you each time he is deep inside you. This finally scratches the itch. This is finally as deep as he can go. He can finally see himself inside you. Finally he can see how his thick cock reshapes your swollen cunt. He is so big and you take him so easily, moving and trembling around him as he repeatedly pounds you stupid. If you keep this up, he might get pussy drunk.

“I can’t take this. You’re so pretty. Is it good for you?”

“Yes. More, please.”

“You’re so perfect. Holy fuck”, he growls and throws your legs over his shoulders to hold your hips instead and pull you onto his cock each time he thrusts into you. You are tighter like this, jerking off his fat cock.

Your voice pitches and rises in volume. You were never fucked like this before. Your needs were never ever getting satisfied like this before. It is changing you and Jungkook makes it even better by taking your clit between his fingers to massage her. She is so swollen and big that he can jerk her off just a little, making you howl. Your hands drop from your thighs just so you can rip the sheets in your attempt to twist them.

You can’t take it. He makes you climax. It is so intense and fulfilling that your sensitive breasts leak again. You howl his name as it happens.

The scent of your sweet breasts and your pretty face sets off Jungkook.

“I have to. It happens”, he gets out and throws his head back. He moans loudly, falling victim to his orgasm. His toes curl for it, his tones stomach flinches.

And because you are currently in heat, existing for nothing but him, his seed sets you off again. It brings you back into this uncontrollable, intense state of bliss you experienced for the first time in the shed. It should be familiar to you by now, but it is not.

You cry and sob, knowing that you won’t be able to stop orgasming for as long as your body needs to.

Jungkook knots instantly, cursing so graphically that he is surprised himself.

“Baby, I can’t stop. I can’t, I’m sorry”, he chants panickedly, unable to stop his hips from rutting into you. It forces his knot to keep leaving you and then popping back inside. The stimulation is unlike anything he has ever felt before, making his toes cramp from curling them so harshly and his hips become even more violent.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it feels so good. Stop me, I can’t stop it”, he apologises because you cry so much. He wants to stop hurting you but he can’t. His hips rut against his will.

“Don’t stop please. It feels so good”, you release him of his guilt, clenching down on him as he drills his knot back into you.

“What? You’re in no pain?”

“No pain. Oh god Koo, I’m cumming again…Ah!” You have to wail, squirting around his thick knot as he buries it inside you over and over again.

“Ah! This is the best sex I ever had, oh god”, Jungkook moans, arching his back.

The knot fucking burns so deep in such a good way. You are so empty without him, the breach is so intense and once he is inside again everything is well. Your pussy sounds so wet, squelching around his knot sinfully. This is seriously the best sex he ever had.

“It’s so good, I’m so high”, he growls, following your orgasm with his own. It is so unbearable to keep moving but his hips have a mind of their own. They keep rutting and fucking even through Jungkook’s shakes. “I can’t stop this. Holy fuck, urggghh.“

If you knew that your little stunt in the shed would lead to having your guts knot fucked by none other than Jeon Jungkook, you would have agreed to this bond sooner. Yup, we have reached the point of total acceptance of your situation. Fuck that his father didn’t howl. Fuck that you only married Jungkook because you were forced to. Fuck that this wasn’t meant to happen. This right now is everything which counts. It is making this entire situation right. It was meant to happen.

“Jungkook, I can’t stop”, you sob, grabbing for him helplessly.

“I know. I can’t either”, he gets out, holding your hands and pinning them above your head. Like this he is lying himself down on you, folding your willing body in half and burying his knotted cock so deep inside you that you feel him against your cervix. In your state, lost in heat and his seed, it is the highest level of pleasure he can give you. And you thank him with loud cries and your claws digging into his hands against their will.

His own claws come out to play. He angles his hands so they wouldn’t hurt you. Like this, your hands are under his’, shaking and twitching as he brings you over one edge after the other.

“I can’t stop. Jungkook please help me”, you wail.

“You’re safe. I’m here. Baby, I’m here”, he soothes you and shakes as he manages to bury his knot in you again. You are getting tighter and tighter and his knot more and more sensitive. “Urgh, baby you’re making me- ah!”

He loses control, pumping your belly full of his hot cum. Now that he is pressed against your cervix, his seed pushes its way right past it, giving you the feeling of being alive you so dearly craved. Of course it sets you off again, of course you cry as if you never had an orgasm before and experience it for the first time. Of course it sets him off again. Of course all of this is happening. It was meant to happen. Of course it was.

And as you cry and sob in relief and bliss, Jungkook can barely stop his claws from hurting you. He grew in size and strength. Your small, fragile body is in danger of being crushed under him.

He does what he needs to do. Jungkook grips the headboard, growling like a rabid animal. You are so stretched out, so lose around his knot. And so wet. He can’t stop fucking you with his creamy knot. It feels so good to have you struggle for a second but then take him happily. It feels even better because you moan with such ecstasy each time he drills it back into you.

Jungkook growls and grips the headboard tighter. And tighter. And tighter with each heavy thrust. With each of your moans. Tighter and tighter until suddenly it cracks loudly, breaking into two right under his hand. The bed gives up, forcing you to sink a good ten centimetres.

“What?” You squeak out, looking around you disoriented.

“Doesn’t matter. Look at me”, he dismisses it, cradling your cheek tenderly. One might never know that seconds ago he broke the bed with the same hand. “Look at me, only look at me.”

You look at him and fall back into the pleasure, having to orgasm instantly at the sight of him.

You wail for him, watching with blurry eyes as he orgasms as well.

His seed hits you in the deepest parts of you. He fucked you so sensitive that you can feel his thick vein pump it out of him. His knot trembles as it happens, bringing you to your blissed limits.

“Again.”

“Me too. If you- I- me too.”

His hips freeze as he is deep inside you. Your walls tighten and force his knot to stay inside you. He can’t move. It is happening to you as his seed drugs you, his knot does the rest. You can’t stop climaxing. It is finally happening.

Jungkook whimpers helplessly, dropping your legs and collapsing into you. Your limbs close around him, his own do the same with you. He is on top of you, but gravity forces him to fall to his side and take you with him. You are stuck together, shaking and flinching as your bodies are trapped in the most addicting state of being. You orgasm which sets him off, which sets you off and so on. You should know the drill, but it doesn’t get easier to bear. You drool and sob and moan, holding each other so close that you almost melt together.

Jungkook cries out as an especially strong high hits him, writhing helplessly which ends in your position changed. He is on his back, you serve as his warmest blanket. He hugs you so strongly, knotted cock shaking inside your tight walls. You drool all over his strong chest, feeling far away because you are so close to his scent glands. He smells like sex and ecstasy but also like safety.

It feels more intense than last time. This kind of knotting orgasm isn’t just sexual, it is also emotional. You want to be close and you are and it is ecstasy. There is enlightenment that what is happening to you only happens because you are with your true mate and this enlightenment makes the orgasms only this much more intense.

The sun is starting to rise once you and he finally come down. You are fucked raw and sore by now, crying into the crook of his neck.

“Holy fuck baby, urgh. I can’t do it again. I’m cramping”, he says, “sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m sore. Kook please I’m scared.”

“Don’t be, I’m here. Baby, my love. I can’t believe we did that”, he instantly falls into a love drunk, sappy state. He hugs you so tightly, feeling up your knotted pussy gently to soothe her.

“I don’t wanna be on top, please”, you beg, shivering.

“You’re safe, princess. I’m here”, Jungkook says and changes positions for you. Somehow in a mixture of his strength and your refusal to give up his knot, you and he end up in flipped positions. He is still inside you, keeping you bred and warm. All while he gives you warmth through his body, adoring you right with kisses all over your face and neck.

“I’m so proud. I’m so fucking proud. Holy fuck, I feel high. You did do well. Oh my pretty princess. My baby love”, he whispers between his loving kisses, hands caressing your sweaty, sore skin gently.

This is instinct as much as it is his heart’s desire. He wants to soothe you, adore you, bring you down gently after lifting you so fucking high. He isn’t aware of how important this is to you. You feel so vulnerable and emotionally sensitive. It would be the same thing if someone decided to start open heart surgery on your aware self. This is how vulnerable you feel and it is Jungkook who makes it okay. It is Jungkook who calms you down and reminds you that you are allowed to be sensitive because he is there to protect you.

“I can’t comprehend this. I feel high. Wow baby, wow. How do you feel?” he babbles.

“Vulnerable.”

“Oh baby, I know. I’m here. Your Kook is here”, he assures you, nuzzling his nose against your scent spot. He hopes that if he nuzzles it long enough, he can spread some of his relaxing scent on you.

It works. Of course it does because your bodies need no instructions to communicate. It is natural and right and makes you and him feel fuzzy.

You sigh. Jungkook smells the relief against your neck. He kisses a path to your face. Your glassy eyes await him, eagerly building connection once they can.

“Thank you”, you whisper.

“No, I have to thank you. This was the best bonding night ever.”

“No, thank you”, you insist, spilling tears

Jungkook wipes them, knowing that you want to tell him something.

“For what, princess?”

“For, for making me feel like this. I, I was never in heat like this. I didn’t know that I could and it makes me feel really vulnerable. But you’re so gentle with me and it’s so nice.”

His eyes soften. He whispers your name adoringly and kisses your forehead.

“I feel the same. This was my first rut ever. I didn’t think that it would be so intense.”

“Kook, I’m scared. I don’t know what this means.”

“Don’t be scared, I’m here.” He kisses your nose, stubbing you with his own afterwards. “We can ask someone about it, but all I know for now is that I don’t wanna fucking stop having you close.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He kisses your lips, making your heart race and feel at home. He breaks the kiss gently, giving you the fondest and warmest smile ever.

“I’m so proud of you. You did so well, my princess baby.”

“Oh wow”, you get out, having to giggle.

Jungkook giggles with you, smiling as he steals a cheeky kiss. Afterwards he sits up. He is still connected with you by your middles, making you gasp and shiver.

“Sorry, I shifted. Are you okay?”

“Yes, oh god. What is happening to me? I feel so comfortable.”

Jungkook smiles, caressing your sides. He can’t stop looking at you. Your breasts are normal again, natural victims to gravity and so soft. They are still messy and wet from what happened before but nothing new leaves you. Your belly is bloated from his seed and covered in a layer of sweat. No wonder you sweat so much, you were burning up. Jungkook dances his palms over your bloated stomach, furrowing his brows in emotion.

“So alive”, he whispers.

“So alive”, you sigh, placing your hand over his’.

“___”, he says and meets yours eyes.

“Yes?”

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I didn’t get to say it as we were doing it because I was dumb in pleasure, but you are so beautiful.”

“You think so?”

“I do. I can’t believe that you’re real and, and that you allow me to see you naked. I just”, he exhales shakily. “I’m just so happy”, he chokes out, throwing his hand over his eyes to hide his tears.

“Kook, don’t cry”, you gasp and pull him down to you. He falls to his elbows, allowing you to hold his hands above your head.

He is pouting and sniffling. You give him a smile.

“Don’t cry.”

“They’re happy tears. We’re bonded, I’m so happy”, he says and smiles through his pretty tears.

Your smile grows, you squeeze his hands. He was right when he said that you and he will get to know each and that it will be nice. You can feel it. You are right for each other. You are so right.

You put your legs around him and push him deeper again.

“Oh”, he gasps, squeezing your hands, “wo-oah this felt really intense”, his voice quivers as he speaks.

“It does”, you agree, rolling your hips up.

Jungkook gasps, “what are you doing?”

“I want more of you.”

“Really? Baby, you’re sore. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please. Be gentle. Please make love to me, Kook baby.”

Jungkook spills tears, whimpering your name. This is everything he ever wanted. He pulls out of your sensitive warmth to thrust into you.

Crack!

You and he scream in shock as the bed finally gives up completely and comes crashing down onto the ground. Jungkook keeps you safe with his arms around you and your head cradled against his chest.

You and he share a moment of shocked and disoriented silence before you break it.

“Oh my god”, you let out, breaking into loud, honest cackles. Jungkook looks at you, having to break into laughter as well.

“Did we just get cock blocked by the bed?”

“I think so. It might be my fault. I kinda broke it when I fucked you with my knot. Sorry.”

“Oh god, Kook.”

You laugh oh so loudly, throwing your head back for it.

Jungkook has to almost squeak as he laughs with you, heart bursting in his chest.

“This is so funny. Oh my god.”

“Yeah, it’s hilarious”, he agrees and goes in for a surprise kiss.

Your laugh cuts off, a gasp replaces it. Your eyes fall closed and your hands bury themselves in his soft hair. This kiss is emotional and it is deep. It has meaning. It is happy and filled with love. Jungkook lets you experience it to its fullest, ending it with a stub of his nose and a smile.

“I promise to fix it. I’ll add steel in the frame.”

“So you think we’ll break it again otherwise?”

“Yeah.” He laughs breathily, nodding his head. “If this is how it feels to be with you during stimulation induced heat, imagine how it will be once it’s your natural heat.”

You gulp, gazing at him dreamily. The rising sun shines on his face, making his skin glow golden.

“Koo, I think you need to heat proof this entire room”, you whisper, making him chuckle and nod his head.

“I will. I’ll make it safe and cozy. Shit baby, I can’t stop saying it. You’re so beautiful. The sun is shining on you and you’re so beautiful.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, looking at him shyly

“You’re beautiful too”, you whisper, making him blush.

“Wow, thanks”, he mumbles, scrunching his nose. He does a little shift to be closer to you. The bed croaks and punishes him for it by making the headboard drop. He catches it before it can fall on top of you

“Piece of shit bed.”

“Oh god”, you laugh “I think we need to take care of this mess first and then continue.”

“Yeah shit, I think you’re right. The bed’s out to get us.”

You laugh and snicker, kicking your feet happily. He chuckles and shoves the headboard to the side.

“Come on, let’s take a shower”, he says and picks you up.

You nuzzle into him, feeling beyond safe.

“Do you have snacks too? I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

“Of course. You know what? First fact about me? I’m actually a really great cook.”

“You are?”

“Mhm, I’m also a total foodie. So if you wanna bribe me into snuggles, get me food and I’ll be the cuddliest boy ever.”

You snicker. It makes your heart flutter when he talks cute with you.

“Do you like food?” he asks.

“Yeah, I like food. It’s comfort.”

“Yeah, right. Do you like cooking together?”

“I never did it before.”

Jungkook holds you closer.

“Then I know what we’ll do. Shower and cook and I get to give you kisses. And later when you’re not sore anymore, I’ll make that gentle love to you. If you want me to.”

“Yeah, I want you to. This sounds so nice. Koo?”

“Yes, love?”

“It’s gonna be so easy for me to fall in love with you.”

“Wow, you. Urgh, you drive me crazy you”, he gets out through gritted teeth and presses you against the next best wall to attack your face and neck with tingling kisses.

You squeal his name, having to laugh in giddiness. It will not be the last time that you laugh because of him.

401 notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 2 days ago

Text

think about things — fushiguro toji.

“I don’t want to mess this up, babe.” he finally admitted, the words coming out in a low, almost reluctant rumble. “I don’t want to mess him up. I don’t want to be like my father, babe. I wanna be a good father to him. I want to love him so much and I just….” Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, at the vulnerability he rarely let show. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek against his chest. For a moment, he stiffened. He always did, as though he wasn’t quite used to comfort—but then he relaxed, his arms circling around you. “You won’t mess him up, baby.” you said softly. “You love him. You won’t end up like your father. You love Megumi, he is our treasure. That’s why you love him. That’s what matters most. And you’re trying. That’s more than enough.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: intense fluff, romance, mild-angst, pet names (baby, babe, treasure etc), love, humor, light-hearted, parenthood, married life, healthy relationship, newborn baby, being in love, slice of life, domestic life, family, anxiety, emotional trauma, emotional suffering, self-doubt, encouragement, depictions of anxiety, depiction of healthy relationship, depiction of married life, depiction of parenthood, depiction of self-doubt, depiction of emotional trauma, mention of familial issues, mention of childhood trauma, mention of emotional suffering, mention of breast-feeding, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader, baby! megumi, normalize having a proud house-husband and father at home, ladies, gents and non-binary friends!;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: after writing so much sad stuff, i knew i had to write something really cute and something relatively happy, for the most part. i asked my beta reader what they wanted to see from me - toji or gojo and they said toji. and well, here we are. the song this is based off from is called think about things by daði freyr.

also what megumi accidentally said was ゴミ which expresses waste/garbage, encompassing things made by human acts. precious little megumi intended to say ごま which is sesame. megumi is still only a few months old!!! he's still learning how to speak!!! in any case, i hope you enjoyed this. i love you all!!! see you in the next one <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

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FUSHIGURO TOJI THINKS HE’S NEVER BELIEVED IN WONDER. From the moment he was born, such a thing did not exist. Not even his mother believed it. Not even when he was born. But he thinks that after her sufferings, he wouldn't doubt it that he too inherited such grief and pain too.

Even having grown up in a sorcerer clan, where he saw things that could make anyone go in awe — nothing about it had made him feel like there was anything worth the thought. Nothing about being a Zenin was worth wondering or for that matter, worth remembering.

But everything after that, especially when you came into his life, did he think they were possible. That wonders did exist in this life and he could have it. He was worth having. He was worth giving such wonders to.

And everything about wonder, he had learned from you. Every sense of the word, the texture, the taste, the feeling. Everything started when he met you. Every good thing sprung into life, like spring, when he met you.

Fushiguro Toji believed that each person has only truly had three special wonders in their lives, nothing more and nothing less. It was almost something out of a genie’s lamp. Three wishes, three gifts, three wonders.

And Toji likes to think that he’s used up all his three wonders. But he was alright with that. He liked to think that he was content with having used it up. Because everything about his life now consisted of those three wonders.

The first was when he first saw you, and then smiled at him so warmly. The second was when you agreed to marry him and spend the rest of your life with him. And the third? Oh, nothing could ever beat the third. That day when you made him a father, the day when your precious son Megumi was born into this world.

Toji couldn’t help but stay there for a moment, his large frame silhouetted against the soft light spilling in from the hallway. He didn’t dare move too quickly or too loudly, worried that even the smallest disturbance might wake his precious son Megumi. And yet, despite the quiet, his mind was anything but still.

He had fought the worst of the worst in life, faced death more times than he could count, and lived a life dictated by survival. But none of that had prepared him for this: the weight of fatherhood.

Not the kind of weight that came from responsibility or the logistical burdens of raising a child. No, this was heavier. This was the realization that he was holding the entirety of someone else’s future in his calloused, scarred hands.

When Fushiguro Megumi had first been placed in his arms at the hospital, Toji had frozen. The baby was impossibly small, a bundle wrapped in a soft blanket that felt foreign against his skin.

Toji had stared down at the little face, this precious little face and saw that little face be endlessly red and then pale. He saw that face turn red again as the features scrunched up and echo into those heart-wrenching fits of crying.

For a split second, all he could admit to was his heart racing so fast against his chest. He was nothing but panicked. Toji never thought he would ever end up finding himself terrified of something.

He was terrified that he couldn’t stop his baby from crying. He was terrified of how small he was, and how big his hands could be to hold something as precious as this little boy. Just as fast, Toji had ended up thinking about all the things he didn’t know: how to soothe him, how to feed him, how to even hold him properly.

He didn’t know how to. How does a father look tenderly at his baby son and tell him it’s going to be alright? How does a father let his voice be the calmest and quietest comfort in the world? How does a father have soft kind hands with such scarred, brutish hands?

Toji couldn’t help it but he stood there, holding the most precious wonder in life and had just as quickly thought of all the ways he might fail — panicked and afraid, wondering if there was ever going to be a chance that he’ll end up doing well. That he’d end up doing right by this precious wonder, this precious treasure.

But now, almost eight months later, Fushiguro Toji stood here watching his son sleep, something shifted.

His little Megumi’s tiny fingers twitched again, his expression relaxing into something peaceful. He was so precious in this way, Toji thinks. The world stops and becomes a bright wonder for his son.

Toji’s lips quivered into a crooked smile, a tender warmth spreading through his chest that he hadn’t known ever existed before he’d had his little boy, his precious treasure. He crouched down, resting his forearms on the edge of the crib, and let his voice drop to a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

“You’re so small still, hm?” he said softly, almost as if confessing to the baby. “Smaller than I thought. And yet you are growing so much. Even bigger than back at the hospital, when you were born. But... I guess it’s cos you’re a big boy already, aren’t you? Our Megumi’s already growing, huh? Doin’ everything you could to be stronger.”

For a moment, he couldn’t help but hesitate as his fingers brushed against Megumi’s back. His little son moved slightly, against the touch. He must know his father was here. But Toji felt weary about waking his little son up.

He was up for a while, and only just fell asleep a while ago. But Megumi went back soundly to sleep. And Toji felt some relief. His precious boy is going to get some rest tonight.

“Hey ‘gumi. I’m gonna be here, okay? Not like my father.” His voice felt thicker at those words, despite the fact that Every step of the way. I don’t know if I’m good at this... but I’ll try, kid. I’ll always try.”

The words came out unpolished, unpracticed, but there was a rawness in them that surprised even him. Toji never thought of himself as the sentimental type, but Megumi had a way of drawing things out of him that he didn’t even know were there.

Maybe it was the way your little son had come to look like you, or maybe it was the undeniable fact that your precious treasure named Fushiguro Megumi was part of him—a part he didn’t know he could love so much.

As he continued to watch, Megumi stirred again, this time letting out a tiny sound that made Toji’s chest ache. He reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering over the crib for a moment before finally brushing against the baby’s blanket-covered chest. It was a small, tentative gesture, but it felt monumental.

“I don’t know what you’ll think about the world, or me one day, you know?” Toji murmured, his voice almost a whisper now. “But I want to know. Someday, when you’re big enough to talk, I’ll listen. To every little thing. And until then... I’ll keep trying to figure this out.”

The baby’s breathing deepened, a soft sigh escaping him, and Toji let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He straightened, glancing down at Megumi. The truth was, Toji had never expected to live a life where someone else depended on him.

He’d grown up in a world where strength was currency, where attachments were liabilities, and where survival meant keeping your guard up at all costs. That was how it was when you were born a Zenin. No ifs, no buts.

He had lived in the shadows of loss and anger for so long that the idea of something so beautiful and uncorrupted and pure, something as delicate and innocent as his precious treasure Megumi—felt almost impossible to comprehend. And for that pure existence to be born from him, because of him.

Toji couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t real. That something with such a cursed existence as him could ever have something like happiness. And yet, here he was. His precious son, born out of love between you and him. And he could see him.

Even now as he’s standing outside that room, chest tight with a strange combination of fear and determination — he convinces himself that his son was here, his precious son was here, because he loved him. Because he loved you. And he deserves this. This was the life he deserves. He always will.

For a moment, he closes his eyes and takes a breath. Before long, he whispers a good-night to his little one and flees to the living room, just near his son’s room. If Megumi gets hungry, he’ll bring him some of your milk stock from the fridge. There was no reason to wake you. You still had work later.

He goes to the couch and closes his eyes again. He had to go and get some rest here. If he comes back to bed, he might be too loud when he gets back in. And he’d want to be there quickly if Megumi needed anything. That’s what he was here for, as your loving house-husband. But he finds that he can’t sleep.

Even now, he still can’t help but feel restless. What if he gets too much sleep and he doesn’t wake up? He had to make you and Megumi breakfast in the morning too. He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling before a soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Toji? Baby?”

It was you, standing a few steps away, wrapped in the oversized robe you always wore around the house. Your hair was slightly mussed, your face soft with the haze of sleep, but your eyes were sharp, focused. You must have noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched as though he was wrestling with himself.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, voice gentle but edged with concern.

Toji turned to look at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small, almost sheepish shrug, he nodded. “Yeah. He’s asleep.”

You stepped closer, your hand finding its way to his arm. Your touch was grounding, and Toji found himself leaning into it without realizing. “You’re sure? You look... tense.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Tense, huh? Guess that’s not wrong.” He glanced back at the door, his voice dropping to something softer, more vulnerable. “I was just... thinking.”

“About?”

“About him.” His blue–green eyes met yours briefly before flickering away, as though the weight of his thoughts was too much to share directly. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, you know? I look at him, and... he’s so small. So... breakable. And I—”

He stopped, biting back the words, his brows furrowing. You squeezed his arm gently, waiting for him to find the rest of his sentence. You knew that your husband has had a lot of concern about being a father.

He’s told you some of what he’d experienced as a child, and sometimes about his father. But not everything. So, this was the first time you’ve heard things from him personally, this loud and this vulnerable. Your face contorts at his pain.

Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, at the vulnerability he rarely let show. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek against his chest. For a moment, he stiffened. He always did, as though he wasn’t quite used to comfort—but then he relaxed, his arms circling around you.

“You won’t mess him up, baby.” you said softly. “You love him. You won’t end up like your father. You love Megumi, he is our treasure. That’s why you love him. That’s what matters most. And you’re trying. That’s more than enough.”

He let out another shaky breath, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “Trying doesn’t feel like enough,” he muttered. “Not for him. He deserves... more.”

“He deserves you, baby.” you corrected, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “The you who’s here, who’s holding him, who’s promising to be there. That’s all he needs. That’s all we both need.”

For a long moment, Fushiguro Toji just stared at you, his blue-green eyes searching your own bright orbs as though trying to find something he couldn’t quite name. Finally, he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible dip of his head. His face looked a little bit more relaxed, with your reassurance.

“Yeah…..” he said quietly. “Okay.”

You smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “Come on. Let’s get some rest. You’ll need your energy when he wakes up in the middle of the night.”

“Babe, I should stay here—”

“No, no. You have super hearing, baby. You can get up when he wakes up. Come on, stop being a helicopter parent already and let our son sleep.”

Toji groaned softly at your words, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he let you guide him down the hall. For now, he would take things one moment at a time. One step at a time.

Because for all the uncertainty, for all the fears that lingered in the back of his mind, one thing was clear: he had a family now. A real one. And for them, Fushiguro Toji would do anything.

══════════════════

YOUR MATERNAL LEAVE IS FINALLY OVER. So in a way, the house was quieter now. Quieter than Fushiguro Toji had expected it to be with a growing baby around, though the stillness wasn’t something he disliked.

And with how you’d gone back to work today, leaving him to take care of Megumi for the first time on his own. So Fushiguro Toji was certain, he was going to have all hands on deck.

He’d joked about it before you left, tossing off some comments about how hard it could be. But now, standing in the living room with his tiny son in his arms, he was realizing it was more daunting than he let on.

He’d had you around the house for a long while and he had gotten used to it. He had become a rusty house–husband and more so, an already rusty father.

Fushiguro Megumi couldn’t help but fuss a little, with his little face scrunching up in that telltale way that meant a cry wasn’t far behind.

Toji sighed a little, looking softly at his precious boy as he shifted him gently, cradling him against his chest and bouncing on his heels like he’d seen you do a hundred times before.

“Hey, ‘gumi. Easy, okay?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I gotcha. No need to get all worked up.”

Megumi quieted, though his tiny fists still curled and uncurled against Toji’s shirt. Toji looked down at him, his expression softening. Tired as he was, he was always content when he looked at his son. Everything pays off.

It wasn’t often he let himself feel this—this quiet kind of contentment. But when he was holding Megumi, feeling his warmth and hearing his little breaths, it was impossible not to. Everything Toji does, everything you both do; it’s all for Megumi.

“Toji?” You’d asked that morning, lingering by the door as you prepared to leave. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Me?” he’d scoffed, smirking. “I’ve handled worse than a baby, you know. I’d be fine with our son, babe. Trust me.”

But now, hours later, Toji found himself pacing the living room, humming softly under his breath to keep Megumi calm. A melody came to him,something his mother used to sing. It was very rare for his mother to hold him for that long, that he’d remember. But she’d held him enough to hum melodies to him. Those were Toji’s first memories.

They weren’t overcomplicated tunes, if one was to hear it. If anything, they were the kind you don’t think about too hard—something simple, warm, and steady. But sometimes, he’d remember the lyrics. And Toji would find that those words would stir something in his little son, as much as they do for him, remembering his own mother.

Toji didn’t know if his voice was good enough to be heard, or to be enjoyed in a song. But Megumi seems to not mind his voice. If anything, little Megumi seems to be fond of his voice. And Toji relished that thought. He might not be the best in the world in singing, but he’s glad that at the very least, it comforts his son.

“When we are together….” he sang quietly, his deep voice surprisingly tender. “There isn’t anywhere that I would rather be.”

Megumi stirred, his dark blue–green orbs tiredly blinking up at his father, and Toji couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight. He kept rocking his little boy gently, the words of the song coming easier now, as though they belonged to this moment.

“Three birds of a feather…..” he continued, his lips quivering in a half-smile, memories of his mother flooding his mind. “I just hope you enjoy our company.”

His little son couldn’t help but gurgle softly at his words, and Toji took that as a good sign, his confidence growing. He walked to the large window overlooking the bright flourishing garden he had planted and let the beckoning sunlight spill over them both.

“It’s been some time and though hard to define, as if the stars have started to align…” He continued to sing softly. Toji looked down at Megumi again, his expression uncharacteristically gentle. “We are bound together, now and forever. And I will never let you go.”

His little baby boy cooed, his little hand reaching up to grasp at the fabric of Toji’s tight shirt. Toji stilled, staring at the tiny fingers that clung to him as though Megumi understood every word he’d just sung. He couldn’t help but snicker.

“Yeah, you and me, kid.” he murmured. “And mama, too. Never forget your precious mama, hm? We’re always going to be three birds of a feather, okay?”

The quiet stretched on as Toji carried Megumi back to the couch, easing down into the cushions while keeping the baby close. He thought about you, about how hard it must have been for you to leave this morning, even though you tried to hide it. He thought about how much you trusted him to take care of Megumi, how much faith you had in him to do right by your son.

And as the baby drifted off to sleep in his arms, Fushiguro Toji felt it again—that strange, overwhelming sense of belonging. It wasn’t something he’d sought out, and it sure as hell wasn’t something he thought he deserved. But as he sat there, holding Megumi, he realized that this was it. This was everything.

When you returned home later that day from work, you were tired. But you couldn’t stop smiling. As you got closer inside you found them both on the couch. Your husband Toji was leaning back, his head tilted to the side, dozing lightly. Your treasure, little Megumi, was nestled against his father’s chest, his little hand still clutching at Toji’s shirt.

You stood there for a moment, your heart swelling at the sight, and whispered. “Three birds of a feather, all three of us. Just like you said, huh, baby?”

And though Toji didn’t stir, a faint smile tugged at his lips, as if he’d heard you all the same. You stepped closer, the quiet creak of the floorboards barely stirring the peaceful scene in front of you. Toji’s chest rose and fell steadily, his broad arms wrapped protectively around Megumi.

Your heart swelled as you watched them, a moment of stillness in your otherwise chaotic world. It wasn’t a sight you’d ever imagined when you first met Toji, but now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Careful not to wake either of them, you crouched by the couch and reached out, gently brushing your fingers through Megumi’s soft hair. His tiny face was relaxed, his mouth slightly open in the kind of sleep only babies seemed to achieve. Your gaze shifted to Toji, his sharp features softened by the faint glow of the setting sun spilling through the window.

“Toji, baby.” you whispered, keeping your voice low. “I’m home.”

His bright blue–green eyes cracked open, the colors of his irises catching the light. He blinked slowly, as if pulling himself out of a dream, and then his gaze landed on you. He processed the world and it stopped when he looked at you. Like when he met you. A small, lazy smile crept onto your husband’s beautiful lips.

“Hey, babe.” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep. “You’re back. Welcome home.”

You nodded, your fingers still brushing over Megumi’s hair. “How was it? Your first day as the primary stay at home parent for the first time?”

Toji huffed a quiet laugh, shifting slightly without jostling Megumi. “Didn’t burn the place down, did I?”

You grinned, leaning your chin on the edge of the couch. “I don’t see any scorch marks at all, baby. I’d say that’s a win.”

He snorted softly, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his expression—something vulnerable. “He’s… a lot quieter than I thought he’d be. I’d always thought that young kids would be like that but….Megumi spent most of the day just watching me like I was some kind of puzzle he was trying to figure out.”

“That’s Megumi for you, you know?” you said, your smile softening. “He’s always been observant. Like someone else I know.”

Toji raised a brow, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he looked down at the baby in his arms, his hand shifting to rest against Megumi’s back. For a moment, he was silent, and then he spoke, his voice quieter this time.

“He’s a good kid, our little ‘gumi.” he said, almost to himself. “He doesn’t even cry much. Just stares at me like he’s waiting for me to say something smart.”

You laughed softly, careful not to wake the baby. “And did you?”

“Course not, babe.” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “But I… I talked to him. Sang, too.”

Your eyes widened slightly. You slowly smiled. You loved your husband’s voice too. And you were certain that your love for his voice was transported to your son too. “You sang to him, baby?”

Toji rolled his eyes, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, babe. He seemed to like it, that’s all.”

Your heart melted at the thought of Toji singing to Megumi, his deep voice wrapping around words meant only for his son. You reached out, your hand covering his where it rested on Megumi’s back.

“You’re doing great, baby.” you said softly. “You know that, right? I’m so proud of you.”

He glanced at you, his expression guarded for a moment before it softened. “I’m just… figuring it out as I go. Don’t wanna mess this up.”

“You won’t, baby. I’m certain about your success.” you assured him. “Not with how much you care about him.”

Toji didn’t respond right away, but his grip on Megumi tightened slightly, as if to anchor himself. After a moment, he nodded, his gaze dropping back to the sleeping baby. He lets out a relieved sigh before letting a small smile echo on his lips.

“Yeah, I guess so.” he murmured. “We’re figuring it out. The three of us.”

“Three birds of a feather, you told me before.” you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could think about it. “We’ll figure it all out.”

Toji’s lips echoed into a bigger smile, and he glanced at you, his green eyes warm. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the room, you stayed there by the couch, your hand resting over his. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t always be easy.

But as you looked at the two of them, your husband and your son, you felt the stars aligning. You were bound together, now and forever. And none of you would ever let go.

══════════════════

TODAY WAS A DAY OFF. So Toji had let you doze off for a little while longer. He thought that with how you were trying to still settle with balancing life as a new mother and also a career woman, it takes a toll on you.

And more than anything, you deserve a chance to have some chance to just relax. So, you hadn’t noticed how long you had actually slept until you saw the clock by your bedside table. 10:30 am. You sat up immediately.

The moment you stepped out of your room, you tried to be as quiet as possible. A smile echoes across your lips as you find yourself stopping and listening for a moment. You could hear Toji’s deep voice coming from the living room.

It had that playful lilt he used only with Megumi—low and teasing, with just a hint of childish mockery. You smiled to yourself as you moved toward the source of the commotion.

In the living room, you found the two of them on the floor. Your two boys had a little bubble of their own. And you suspect that they've had that bubble since before dawn. Megumi gets angsty and wakes up at that time, wanting some milk.

Your husband Toji was sitting cross-legged, Megumi perched in front of him on a soft play mat. Your son’s little face was scrunched up in what could only be described as a glare, his tiny fists clenched at his sides. Your husband Toji, still rather oblivious to the budding storm brewing in his child, was grinning like an idiot.

“Megumi, hey..... kid….what’s that look for?” Toji was saying, leaning down so their faces were at the same level. “What’s with that intense focus, huh? You pooping or what? You gotta let papa know, so he can prepare. Your poop goes nuclear, you know that? Papa smells it on his hands even after he washes, hm?”

Megumi let out a frustrated sound, his little glare intensifying, which only made Toji laugh harder. “Yeah, you’re definitely working on something, aren’t you? What’s it gonna be, huh? A big one?”

“Gomi!” Megumi suddenly blurted, his little voice sharp and determined as he glared daggers at his father.

Fushiguro Toji couldn’t help but freeze up. He found himself blinking in surprise. For a moment, the world stood still as he tried to process what his little son just said, as perhaps — his very first word.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head like he’d misheard. “Did you just call me gomi?”

You couldn’t hold back your laugh anymore, clutching the wall for support as you doubled over. The absurdity of the situation, paired with Toji’s stunned expression, was too much.Your son was always so full of surprises.

“Oh my god, baby…..he called you trash!” you managed between laughs.

Toji turned his wide-eyed gaze to you, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to figure out how to defend himself. “Hey, wait a minute! I don’t think he meant—”

“Gomi!” Megumi said again, louder this time, pointing a tiny finger at his father. His glare hadn’t wavered in the slightest, his baby cheeks puffed out in sheer indignation.

“I swear to the heavens above…” Toji said, now more flustered than you’d ever seen him. “I’m not gomi! What the hell, kid?!”

Still laughing, you finally found your balance from the laughing fits. You walked over and lowered yourself as you scooped Megumi into your arms, kissing his head as his tiny arms flailed indignantly. Your husband’s frown was evident frustration.

“I don’t think our son’s not calling you trash, baby.” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “He’s trying to say goma. Sesame. He’s been seeing it in TV commercials when I feed him some milk these past few nights. He might have caught up with it and babbled it and…it just didn’t end up as translated.”

Toji stared at you, then at Megumi, who was now nestled against your chest, still glaring at him like he’d committed the ultimate betrayal. “Sesame?” Toji repeated, frowning. “Why the hell is he glaring at me, then?”

“Maybe because you keep asking him if he’s pooping, baby.” you said with a grin, bouncing Megumi lightly to calm him down. “Honestly, baby, would you want someone to do that to you?”

Toji groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Great. First real word he says to me, and it’s calling me gomi, babe. Kid’s already taking after you.”

You snorted, pressing another kiss to Megumi’s cheek. “Don’t blame me because he’s got taste, baby. Our son takes after his mother well!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Toji grumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. He reached out and ruffled Megumi’s hair, despite the baby’s continued glare. “Fine, kid. I’ll let it lose this time okay? You win this time, hm? But papa is not a gomi, got it?”

Megumi didn’t respond, but the glare softened just enough for Toji to let out a relieved sigh. “That’s what I thought. Just like your mama.” he muttered, before looking back at you. “Are you laughing at me the whole time?”

“Absolutely, baby.” you said with a grin. “And I’ll be telling this story forever.”

Toji groaned again, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitching upward, unable to hide his fondness as he watched Megumi settle back into your arms. Even when his son thought he was trash, Toji couldn’t help but adore him.

As the laughter subsided and your little Megumi relaxed in your arms, you couldn’t help but keep grinning at the ridiculous scene you’d just walked in on. It was like your husband found himself in outer space. And he was still debating whether aliens were real.

Fushiguro Toji sat back on his hands, still looking flabbergasted as his blue-green eyes darted between you and Megumi. HIs eyes narrowed for a moment and then a short breath releases from his lips. He shook his head, muttering under his breath.

“Unbelievable.” he grumbled, though there was a clear hint of amusement now in his tone. “First words. Gomi. What are the odds?”

You chuckled, bouncing Megumi lightly on your hip. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. He’s been trying to say goma all week, and you just happened to push his buttons at the wrong time.”

“Pushed his buttons?” Toji said, straightening up. “All I did was ask if he was pooping! That’s fair game when someone’s giving you that face!”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, glancing down at Megumi, who was still sporting a little frown but had mostly calmed down. “Maybe he’s tired of you questioning his dignity, baby.” you teased. “He’s got standards, you know.”

“Standards?” Toji repeated, narrowing his eyes at his son. “This coming from a kid who tried to eat his own foot this morning?”

“Gomi!” Megumi declared again, his little finger pointing accusingly at Toji, as if to double down on his stance.

You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling as you tried to hold Megumi steady. “Oh my god, Toji, baby. It's rough! you’ve been officially labeled. There’s no coming back from this now!”

Toji let out a long, exaggerated sigh, dragging a hand down his face before flopping dramatically onto his back. “This kid’s out to get me. This is just....ugh.” he mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. “First it’s gomi, next thing I know, he’ll be telling his teachers I’m a garbage dad.”

“You’ll survive, baby.” you said with a grin, moving to sit beside him on the mat. Megumi squirmed in your arms, reaching out toward Toji with his chubby little hands. “See? He doesn’t mean it. He loves you, trash talk and all.”

Toji sat up just enough to take Megumi from you, holding the baby in front of him at arm’s length as if inspecting him for further insults. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Megumi.” he said, narrowing his blue-green eyes towards his little boy.

Megumi stared back at him, his lips twitching as if he was trying to form another word. For a moment, both you and Toji held your breath, waiting to see what would come out next.

“Gooooo-ma.” Megumi finally said, his voice softer this time, and he clapped his little hands together as if proud of himself. "Go-ma!"

Toji blinked, his expression shifting from stunned to triumphant. “There it is! Goma! That’s what you meant, huh? Not gomi. Goma! Great job, ‘gumi!”

“Good job, my little treasure!” you cheered, clapping along with Megumi.

Toji puffed out his chest, grinning at you like he’d just won a major battle. “See? I told you the kid doesn’t think I’m trash.”

“Oh, don’t act like you weren’t sweating there for a second, baby.” you teased, nudging him playfully.

“Whatever.” he said, pulling Megumi closer and nuzzling his cheek, much to the baby’s delight. “This little guy knows his old man’s the best out there, hm? Don’t you, kid?”

Megumi giggled, reaching up to grab a handful of Toji’s hair. Your rather contently resigned husband snickered, taking a deep sigh and letting his son do as he wished.

You let out a small laugh, your heart warm. Life was great like this. And you were truly grateful, as much as you know Toji was, that this was your life day to day.

“Yeah, yeah, baby.” you said with a fond smile, watching them. “For now, at least. Just wait until he starts picking up on all your bad habits.”

Toji shot you a playful glare, but there was nothing but warmth in his eyes as he cradled Megumi against his chest. “Bad habits, huh? I’ll teach him the important stuff. Like how to dodge a jab and—”

“And maybe not how to taunt people until they call you garbage.” you cut in, smirking at your husband.

Toji groaned, but the sound was filled with affection. “Fine, fine. You win this one. But just wait. Next word he says is gonna be dad. Calling it now, babe. Third time’s the charm!”

“Whatever you say, gomi–kun.” you teased, unable to resist one last jab.

He shot you a look, but the soft laugh he let out was enough to tell you he didn’t mind. In fact, you could tell he was enjoying every bit of this—your teasing, Megumi’s growing personality, the quiet chaos of your little family.

And as you watched him hold Megumi, the baby now giggling uncontrollably as Fushiguro Toji playfully poked his chubby cheeks, you knew there was no place any of you both would rather be.

Especially your beloved husband. Even if Megumi decided to call him gomi again tomorrow. That all didn't matter. As long as you were together, happy and content.

══════════════════

epilogue

The next morning, after breakfast and while you were doing the laundry, the air was thick with anticipation. The kind of anticipation that only a determined father can have when his child is on the verge of accomplishing a great feat—like calling him "oto-san" or "dad".

Toji, sitting on the floor cross-legged like he was preparing for a life-altering event, had a ridiculous amount of hope in his eyes. Megumi was seated in front of him on the playmat, his big bright blue–green eyes wide and serious, as if he understood the gravity of the moment.

“Oto-san.” Toji said, his voice impossibly soft, practically dripping with encouragement. “Say it with me, Megumi. O-to-san. You can do it, little man.”

Megumi, who was sitting cross-legged just like his dad (it was adorable how he tried to copy every little thing Toji did), looked up at him, his tiny face scrunched up as he processed the words. He was staring at Toji like he was decoding some ancient language, his eyes darting from Toji's mouth to his eyes, clearly focused.

Toji waited, leaning in a little closer as though the two of them were sharing a secret. “Oto-san. Come on. Say it.” Toji repeated slowly for his little son. “O-to-san.”

Megumi blinked once, twice, and you could practically hear the little gears turning in his mind, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was exaggerated. “Gomi!”

You couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. The way your Toji looked completely deflated at the sound of the word—again—was too much. He had been trying so hard to do what he could since this morning and so far, Megumi hasn't been cooperating.

He slumped back onto his hands, shaking his head in mock exasperation, though you could see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts to act annoyed.

"Not again, kid!" Toji groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I’m not gomi! I’m Oto-san! You’re really gonna call me trash again, huh?”

Megumi, blissfully unaware of the comedic frustration he was causing, grinned up at Toji. His tiny face lit up like a lightbulb, pleased with the attention, clearly proud of himself for having mastered the art of taunting his father in a single syllable.

“I swear, kid…..” Toji muttered, but his voice was full of affection. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You leaned against the doorframe, watching the whole thing unfold, utterly charmed by the two of them. Toji, the intimidating figure who was capable of single-handedly taking down enemies twice his size, now reduced to a pile of goo over his son’s simple interactions.

And Fushiguro Megumi, with his wide, innocent eyes, staring at his dad like he was the most important person in the world.

“Let’s try again, okay?” Toji said, his tone shifting back to encouragement. “Come on, Megumi. O-to-san. You can do it.”

Megumi was still focused on Toji, his big eyes narrowed in thought, like he was really going to work for this one. And for a moment, Toji’s gaze softened, watching his son struggle so seriously with something as simple as a word. There was no trace of impatience on his face now, only patience and quiet joy at being in this moment with his son, who was so determined.

“O-to-san” Toji repeated slowly, the words rolling off his tongue like they were sacred, full of meaning. “O-to-san.”

Megumi blinked again and then, just as you thought the whole thing was going to repeat itself with another triumphant “Gomi” — your little treasure of a son did something that was rather unexpected, even for his own father.

He looked down at his little hands for a moment, and then, in a burst of focus, he looked back up at Toji. This time, his little mouth formed the word slowly, with effort. “O...to...san.”

Toji froze. His entire body stilled, as if the universe itself had shifted. He blinked, then blinked again, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Did... did you just say—” His voice was breathless, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Did you just say... Oto-san?”

Megumi’s face lit up with an innocent pride, a mischievous little grin spreading across his face as though he knew he’d just done something monumental. He reached up, patting Toji’s cheek, as if confirming what had just happened.

Toji, his heart swelling with emotions you didn’t even know he was capable of, immediately scooped Megumi into his arms. The baby squealed, giggling in surprise as he was lifted up, and Toji held him close, pressing his cheek against his son’s own chubby ones.

“You did it, kid. You really said it. O-to-san.” He repeated it like he was relishing every syllable. “Dad. Oto–san.” he whispered, almost in awe. “You said it.”

You couldn’t contain the warm laugh that bubbled up from your chest, a soft, happy sound that filled the room as you walked over to them. You bent down, brushing a hand through Megumi’s soft hair as he clung to his dad, who was still holding him in a vice grip, clearly elated.

“Oh my god, Toji, baby.” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “You did it. You’re officially Oto-san.”

Toji looked up at you, a grin breaking across his face, his eyes shining with joy. “You hear that? Oto-san! He said it!” His voice was practically vibrating with excitement.

You leaned in to kiss Megumi’s cheek, and he responded by beaming up at you, his tiny arms reaching toward both of you as if he was basking in the love that was flooding the room. "He’s got his first word," you said softly, holding him gently. “Oto-san.”

Toji’s expression softened, his hands tightening around his son as if he were trying to hold onto this moment forever. “Man, I never thought I’d get to hear that. First ‘gomi’ and then ‘Oto-san’... I’m already getting my father of the year award.”

“Definitely, baby.” you teased, sitting down beside them. “First he calls you trash, now he’s calling you dad. You’re on a roll!”

Toji grinned widely, holding Megumi up like he’d just won a trophy. “Yeah, well, I’m Oto-san now. All the ‘gomi’ in the world can’t take that away from me.”

Megumi, as if he understood the gravity of the moment, raised his hands in a victorious gesture, causing both of you to laugh. Toji’s joy was practically radiating off of him, and you could tell that, for him, this moment, this small, perfect moment—was everything to your husband.

As you all sat together, with Megumi snuggled between you and Toji, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Toji might have started this whole "Oto-san" lesson with a bit of desperation, but now, he was on top of the world.

The way Megumi had slowly figured out the word, and the way Toji had been so patient—there was a deep love in the room. It wasn’t just about the word itself; it was about the bond they were building.

“I think he’s got it, baby.” you said, watching as Toji continued to whisper the word to Megumi. “Oto-san... your first real word. He’ll be saying it a lot from now on.”

Toji, still holding Megumi close, sighed happily, a sense of peace settling over him. “Yeah.” he said, his voice full of warmth and affection. “Oto-san. I’m good with that.”

And in that moment, with the three of you together in the warmth of your home, everything felt right.

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animezinglife · 24 hours ago

Text

Spot the writer. Exquisitely put. :)

"Solavellan is, if I’m being entirely honest, the most compelling romance from a story angle."

I could not agree more, and it is also the only route I believe they could've taken the canon story. I would argue that they're the obvious canon choice (to the point I have never actually finished a Trespasser run with Trevelyan...and don't plan to).

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Lavellan is the only Inquisitor who significantly changes the story of the Dread Wolf. If our story is to continue and intertwine with his, she must be the canon one.

Not Trevelyan.

Not Cadash.

Not Adaar.

It must be Lavellan. The strongest story where Solas is concerned is the one of Fen'harel and his vhenan.

A friend can open his mind to some degree. A friend can make him see that perhaps he doesn't truly understand humans, dwarves, or Qunari after all, and a friend can be someone he always respects and values.

A friend does not turn his entire world and reality upside down. She doesn't shake him to his core and leave a god of lies with gaping wound of the heart.

A twisted, damning truth.

A Lavellan who romanced Solas is his heart. His vhenan, and whatever tether he has to some semblance of humanity (for lack of a better term). Some semblance of a nature that hasn't been corrupted, and something beyond pride, tricks, power, and lies...and yet, she makes him selfish in another way entirely. Likely a way he had forgotten was possible.

She makes him want.

She makes him Solas. Something other than all he's become and who he feels he must be.

Lavellan is a part of him he can neither ignore nor control. He falters. He forgets himself. He nearly tells her everything that night in Crestwood and forsakes himself in the process.

No other Inquisitor has that power or influence over him. It is only—and only can be—Lavellan.

She's both the means to his ruination and salvation. She is the catalyst for any potential atonement.

Don't get me wrong: every single player's Inquisitor plays a role in the story, and every one of those stories is meaningful.

They simply aren't the stories interwoven with all he is, and who he can be.

Dragon Age: The Veilguard | ▶ dev. Bioware

#da:i #da:v #da:v spoilers #veilguard spoilers #solavellan #justice for solamancers

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loverafey · 2 days ago

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first ! bsf!rafe x virgin f!reader

ꕀ warnings - smut, lots of kissing, fingering, rafe's a softie and just so gentle with his best friend :( wc - 2.5k.

sitting beside rafe cozily while he was sprawled on his bed, scrolling away on his phone, your eyes read over the words printed on the book you were holding, a peaceful silence lingering in the air.

he had invited you over to spend the night, just a simple innocuous sleepover even, not admitting that he’d gotten a little bit too lonely in this house that was too big for a single person. sarah usually spent time with john b now, wheezie was away for a few weeks to spend time with their grandma while he was here handling all the work — maybe he should also buy a nice apartment for himself. maybe that’d be less lonely.

you were a bit too invested into the plot, some cheesy romance novel that you were somehow enjoying. cliches were not that bad sometimes, after all. you found yourself unconsciously smiling at all these events happening to the protagonist, a foreign ache blooming in your chest. envy? or perhaps just mere curiousity, you’ve never had a decent experience with dating, after all.

not even a first kiss, and it embarrassed you greatly.

almost everyone you knew was either already dating or experienced in this field, and no matter how much you tried to hide your lack of knowledge, it was clearly obvious. you weren’t innocent by all means, the book in your hands was evidence enough, the scenes already accelerating to something more heated. though reading such things sometimes felt like a self sabotaging method because it always left you craving something similar.

your eyes drifted over to rafe, watching the neutral expression adorning his face, one arm folded under his head while his other hand held his phone, scrolling through whatever. you couldn’t help but take advantage of the fact that he was not looking at you, admiring the way those plump lips of his were parted, his hair freshly shaved into a buzz cut. despite your initial shock when your best friend had revealed this new style of his to you cheekily, you loved this haircut on him a lot. everything looked good on him, though you’d rather not admit that to anyone, especially not him.

his eyes were half lidded, your heart skipping a beat as you watched him unconsciously lick his bottom lip, blood rushing to your cheeks, the book in your hand long forgotten. why was your body even reacting like this, so eager to memorise every inch of his face?

“staring a little bit too much, aren’t ya?” his calm voice broke you out of your trance, earning a soft gasp from you as you quickly looked away, the action of no avail. he’d already caught you.

“nope, just zoning out.” it was clear that you were lying. he noted how you were a little bit too squirmy, avoiding his eyes — flustered. he couldn’t help but feel a smirk rising on his lips, sitting up on his bed as he put his phone aside, all of his attention now pointed at you.

“you’re lying.” he scoffed, leaning forward.

silence once again fell within his bedroom, short yet tense. you could hear your heartbeat getting louder in your ears, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down.

“rafe, have you ever… kissed anyone?”

what a foolish question to ask, of course he had kissed many times, even you knew that, fumbling your words out in the spur of the moment. though the ways his eyes widened made you go still, realisation replacing the confusion on his face almost as quickly. he snorted, his head falling back as he nodded. “‘course i’ve kissed people. haven’t you seen me?” he asked, cockiness lacing his words.

you rolled your eyes, pursing your lips shut while trying to ignore the fact that you were a little bit too aware of the heat on your face, shrugging your shoulders. “i-it’s… it’s just…” fuck, you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this. “i haven’t… y’know.” you kept trailing off, looking anywhere and everywhere but at him.

he hummed knowingly, staring at you intently. he obviously knew that — definitely not because he always kept close tabs on you behind your back — always surprised that no one had kissed you or swept you off your feet yet. lucky him, he supposed, it was exactly what he’d wanted for a while now. “i know.”

“you do?” you gasped out, though he didn’t let you feel ashamed, his hands soon grasping yours, gently intertwining your fingers.

“i think everyone does.” he snickered, causing you to whine in protest, not even able to swat his shoulders gently since he was holding your hands. “but why’re you bringing it up, huh?” he feigned innocence.

he was so frustrating, obviously knowing that you wanted to try kissing him, especially due to the way your eyes kept trailing down onto his lips, your own lips parting slightly, as if wondering what it’d feel like to kiss him.

the thought of being your first kiss made his heart flutter in the best way possible, every little dream of his about you aching to come true. but still, it was funny to mess with you and watch you stutter while trying to not make a mess of yourself. you were just so damn adorable.

“i was wondering… if maybe we could try it.” you mumbled quietly.

“try what?”

only if you could punch him. “kissing…!” you squeaked out, already regretting your words. what if he’d reject you, never look at you the same again?

“should’ve said that sooner.” he whispered, making you realise just how close he was to you as he leaned forward, his hands pulling you in front of him, soon moving up to cup your face, the tender action making your fears melt away.

“want me to be your first kiss, baby?” his voice was more hoarse now, eyes glimmering with need as he stared down from your eyes to your lips, and then back up at your eyes that were staring at him so dreamily, feeling you nod hastily.

he soon closed the distance between you both, pressing his lips against yours. he was slow and gentle, not wanting to freak you out as you clumsily kissed him back, your fists bunching his shirt up as you clung onto him, feeling his head tilt slightly, his lips parting and moving against yours, swallowing up your surprised little noises.

it felt so good, better than you’d expected from all these novels that you’d been reading. his fingers were neatly tucked behind your ears, not minding that you were leaning forward obliviously, just wanting to be closer to him.

“c’mere.” he grunted against your mouth, that noise alone making your heart go all giddy as he pulled you up to sit on his lap, letting your hands leave his shirt as your arms wrapped around his neck, continuing to kiss him. you couldn’ believe you were kissing your best friend.

he reluctantly pulled away after a while, knowing that you had to catch your breath, eyes drinking in the sight of your panting softly, your lips all wet from the kiss. from the kiss he gave you. he found himself grinning like a fool, pressing a few more kisses on the side of your mouth, hearing you giggle.

“not too bad for a first kiss, yeah?” he asked, earning a hum from you as you snugly sat on his lap, feeling his hands hold onto your waist, fingers slipping sneakily inside your waist, rubbing your sides in light circular motions, just a shy away from the waistband of your shorts. you didn’t mind, staring at him with wide eyes, your breathing quickening at the feeling of his skin against yours.

“what’cha thinking about?” he asked, beginning to press light pecks on your jaw once he felt that you were comfortable enough.

your throat tightened momentarily, chewing on your bottom lip as you looked down, shaking your head, feeling your ears unbearably heat up once again. “nothing.” you whispered too quietly. he tsked, one hand reaching up to gently grab the side of your face, tilting your head towards his.

“just…” you cleared your throat. “just wanna do more.”

“more?”

“y’know what i mean!” this time, you did swat on his shoulders, causing him to chuckle as he nodded.

“mhm, i know. my baby wants more.” he felt your legs spreading a bit more by his hips, your body squirming on his lap. “ever touched yourself?” he asked, rendering you surprised by his rather crude question.

“yes. doesn’t feel really good… i suck at it.” you huffed, not wanting to give the details of how you awkwardly stuck your fingers inside you or tried to rub yourself, either going too fast or too slow, always failing to reach the peak.

“oh no.” he cooed mockingly, his hand gently resting on your stomach through your shirt, his eyes finding yours, softening up. you looked so shy when your confidence was all drained out, it made him want to kiss you all the more greedily. but not yet, that’d be too fast. “want me to make you feel good?” he asked, genuine.

your eyes widened, wondering if he was joking or not, though the way he was staring at you and touching you with so much care made you want to swoon, nodding after a few seconds.

“use your words, baby.”

“yes…” a smile found its way to your lips, his hands swift to shift you around so now you were in between his legs once he parted them, your back resting against his chest. you giggled, your thighs squeezing shut while he pressed soft kisses on the top of your head and then your nape, his hands gently roaming over your torso through the fabric of your shirts, caressing away through your breasts, causing your breath to hitch.

“lift your hips up, cutie.” he ordered, to which you eagerly obeyed by leaning up so he could tug your shorts down, groaning audibly at the sight of your panties. “fuck, always wanted to see you like this.” he confessed, taking down your panties too, putting the clothes aside, not letting you see that he snuck your panties into the pocket of his sweats.

“really?” you whimpered out, feeling his hands gently guiding your legs open, your back trying to lean more into his chest. his fingers snaked down, palming your pussy, your hips already twitching at the foreign touch.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he couldn’t help but groan, pleased as his fingers swiped through your slicken folds, gathering some wetness. he was hard, his cock eager to jump out of his pants but that was a matter for later, some other day. today was all about you.

carefully, he begins to circle his fingers around your clit, feeling it pulsate due to his feather-like, almost teasing movements. you moaned out blissfully, eyes flying shut as he continued to rub your clit, your skin tingling at this newfound feeling.

“feels good?” he asked, earning a hum from you, his head resting on your shoulder, almost nuzzling against your cheek. his other hand went from gently caressing your thighs to in between your legs. “want my fingers in you too?”

“yes…” you mewled in ecstacy, lips parted in awe as your legs stayed spread, aching a bit though the pleasure coursing within you made it easy for you to ignore that. one hand focused on your clit while the other spread your folds apart, a finger teasing your tight hole, your hips trying to buck forward.

“so eager. all of this is f’me, yeah?” he was breathless, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses against your ear as you nodded, whining out something incomprehensible that seemed like a ‘yeah’.

his finger soon pushed into your pussy, feeling your squelchy walls squeeze around his digit eagerly. fuck, you were so tight, it made him want to stuff you full of his cock to see how prettily you’d stretch around him. he begin to gently move his finger around you, the other hand not ceasing its movements, fingers continuing to rub your clit.

“rafe… rafey!” you tilted your head, eagerly gasping out the nickname only you’d use on him, your lips trying to find his. he indulged, kissing your lips once again, sneaking in a second finger inside your pussy, beginning to thrust them in and out. his fingers were nicely long, reaching in and probing against your sweet spots that you had convinced yourself didn’t exist. it all felt so good, your wetness leaking onto his fingers and probably dirtying his sheets too, the pleasure from both the simultaneous rubbing of your clit and his fingers fucking your pussy made your body writhe, feeling all sensitive, getting closer to the edge embarrassingly quick.

every pretty noise you were making was muffled against his mouth, feeling all hot and needy, something building up in your stomach. “i-i think m’gonna cum.” you fumbled over your words after pulling away from the kiss.

“keep lookin’ at me.” his fingers continued to thrust in and out of your pussy at a steady pace while rubbing your wet throbbing clit, his hands a mess, eyes staying locked onto your glossy ones. your breathing quickened as you felt your peak approaching, crying out once you orgasmed, cumming all over his fingers, walls clenching around him impossibly tight as your body convulsed. his fingers didn’t stop rubbing your clit until you were a limp mess in his arms, panting softly, all warm and fuzzy.

he gently pulled his fingers out, proudly looking at them before moving his fingers to your mouth. “lick it f’me?” he asked softly, your brain melted into mush as you opened your mouth to suckle onto his fingers for a while until he pulled them out. comfortably sitting you up, he cradled your face and pressed a kiss on your nose, watching you smile doppily, just so happy.

“wanna get cleaned up?” he tilted his head, causing your brows to furrow.

“but… what about you?” you asked, looking down at the tent formed in his pants. his cheeks reddened at your observation, shaking his head as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“don’t wanna go so fast on you and freak you out. someday later, okay?” truth was that he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself, claiming you as his as soon as he’d fuck you properly, letting his obsession unveil. he promised himself that he wouldn’t do that — not yet at least — wanting your first time to be gentle with him taking his time with you.

and you’d be looking forward to it.

#sun.works ★#rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #obx x reader #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #i love him :( !!

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moonlightwonu · 3 days ago

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부승관 // Boo Seungkwan Fic Recsᡣ𐭩

널 외롭게 두지 않을게 처음의 마음을 널 위해 지킬게~

Main Recs Masterlist

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

“Starlight Eyes” by @whipped-for-kpop-fics

Fem!reader || idol au, fluff, angst, Seungkwan-centric || W.C: 14k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･The past months together were supposed to be his way of forming a connection with you that would allow you to see him in a romantic manner like you had started to with Seungcheol last year. But it seemed it had just made Seungkwan's feelings burn brighter and his crush turn into something more.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Briefly Orange” by @wondernus

Summer au, friends to lovers, magical realism, slowburn, angst, romance, slice of life || W.C: 32k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Fragmentary source of healing and like an oasis away from the city, for his group of friends, Boo Seungkwan’s family farm is a regular vacation destination away from the city. Yet Seungkwan wishes for anything but a future filled with mountains of oranges, his dream of living in the city still ineffaceable in his head. When he receives a request from a friend he fell out of touch with asking if they could stay on his farm for the summer, Seungkwan finally finds himself in an opportunistic place in which his dream can finally become a reality. Why? Because you’re cursed to have everything you love disappear. Sweltering heat and an eventful summer, magic touches lives in ways that we can never imagine. But in this transition between seasons, we find ourselves asking: when loss is as transient as the lives we live, what does it mean to love with every fiber of our being?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Beach House” by @bluehoodiewoozi

Fem!reader || one bed trope, enemies to lovers, comedy, angst, romance, slowburn || W.C: 9.8k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Maybe Vernon made a mistake by inviting both you and Seungkwan to the beach house, or maybe he was smarter than the two of you combined.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Once Upon A Summer” by @the-boy-meets-evil

Fem!reader || 90s au, summer love, fluff, angst || W.C: 8.6k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Every summer kind of goes the same. The population of your usually sleepy beach town doubles and you bust your ass to make enough money to last through the slow season. But a new face blows into town like a whirlwind and he’s determined to catch your eye. Only one problem: he’s here for vacation and you’re married to this town.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“It Isn’t You” by @simpxxstan

Fem!reader || single mom au, fluff, angst || W.C: 8.3k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you're ready to begin a completely new life in seoul, away from your ex-husband and your baggage of regrets. but fate has different plans for you when you meet seungkwan again, and this time, you don't want to let go.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“When I Grow Up” by @wooahaes

Gn!reader || childhood friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst || W.C: 12.3k

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Strawberry Jazz; Love On The Train To Tokyo” by @idyllic-ghost

Neighbour au, strangers to lovers, fluff, romance || W.C: 9.4k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･In an attempt to let go of your past, you travel to a new city and pretend to be a new person. On the train to Tokyo, you meet a handsome stranger but miss the opportunity to get his name and number before you part ways. Lucky for you, your fates seem to be intertwined as you meet again just a few hours later.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“1-800-CUPID” by @drunk-on-dk

Fem!reader || friends to lovers, slice of life, fluff, romance, smut || W.C: 7k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Nothing could have ever prepared you to reunite with Boo Seungkwan over a desperate, wine-induced call to 1-800-CUPID late one night. Seungkwan was always known for being a jack-of-all-trades and meddler during your time spent as his friend at university, so hearing his cherubic voice over the love advice hotline wasn’t so shocking. Fortunately for you, Seungkwan’s sprite attitude is exactly what you need in your post-grad, loveless life. However, what will you do when he begins to surpass what the hotline has to offer and meddles with your heart instead?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Like A Domino” by @sluttywoozi

Fem!reader || bartender au, pining, fluff, suggestive || Parts: 2 || Total W.C: ~12.9k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Seungkwan falls for you a bit more with every date you have. And by you, he means you and someone else. He’s just the bartender.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Guilty Pleasures” by @hannieween

[Series] || Fem!reader || childhood crush to lovers, fluff, smut || Parts: 2 || Total W.C: 24.5k (as of now) || Status: Ongoing

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Planning a wedding is not easy. It is one of the most difficult feats you had ever chosen to do. That and seeing Boo Seungkwan again. Seungkwan, the golden boy, the teacher's favourite. The person you had a stupid undying crush on.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“As It Was” by @ssinboo

Fem!reader || fwb , smut || W.C: 5.4k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･There’s nothing that nourishes the ego more than envious looks from old classmates. At a ten-year class reunion, Seungkwan is looking forward to enact his long-term revenge plan. When it all comes crashing down, you're helping him pick himself up the only way you know how. or You and Seungkwan are occasional friends with benefits

⤷“We're No Good Alone” (Part 2 of As it Was)

Fem!reader || smut, angst || W.C: 5.9k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Seungkwan finds himself in a month long slump and you're recruited by his manager to help him get back on his feet. He finds your presence a lot more comforting than he'd be willing to admit. or You visit Seungkwan in Seoul and spent the weekend like you don't hate each other.

⤷“It's Always Been Us” (Part 3 of As it Was)

Fem!reader || romance, smut, fluff || W.C: 16.5k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･After your unplanned confession, you avoid Seungkwan until an unexpected issue brings you to contact him. When you finally get in touch, secrets are revealed.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Office Hours” by @seungkw1

Afab!reader || College au, smut, fluff || W.C: ~6.2k

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Plan B” by @diamonddaze01

Fem!reader || Frenemies to lovers || W.C: 9k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･it's just a stupid pact. what could possibly go wrong?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Caught On Camera” by @rubyreduji

Fem!reader || camstar au, roommates au, smut || W.C: 7.9k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･being a cam girl is great, that is is until you have to consider your roommate

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

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girlsloveupdates · 2 days ago

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GL airing in 2025 (so far)

Only You (original plot)

The series mixes action and adventure, with Tawan, a bodyguard in charge of protecting Ira. The romance between them grows amid threats and dangerous situations, creating a plot full of action and emotion. (summarised by @lesbicine)

Watch the official teaser here.

The Dragon House (novel adapted)

The Dragon House tells the story of Fei Long, heiress to the feared Dragon Fire Gang, who needs to form an alliance with Wang Li Ming, the successor of the Jade Lion Gang. Together, the two face rivalries and tensions, and the chemistry between them promises to heat up the plot. (summarised by @lesbicine)

Watch the official teaser here.

Buy My Boss (novel adapted)

Recent graduate Manfan is facing numerous problems: her family's bankrupt; she's been dumped; everything's gone downhill, dragged down to the abyss. Wanting nothing more than some release, she hires an enchanting escort named Araya who reassures her that good things are coming. Who would have thought that later, when she takes on an important job, would she meet her boss Issara, and would come to learn that Araya and Issara are one and the same?

Watch the official teaser here.

Us (novel adapted)

Dokrak decides to take a gap year to find herself after finishing high school. She has a part-time job at a coworking space coffee shop. It's here that she crosses paths with dentistry student Pam who’s a regular at the café to hit the books. As she gets to know Pam, Dokrak develops a crush. When her brother, however, meets Pam, he falls for her at first sight. Kawi turns to Dokrak, asking her to play matchmaker. Because she loves him and wants to see him happy, Dokrak begins coaching him. As time goes on, however, she finds herself unable to ignore her growing feelings for Pam. Before she knows it, she's fully in love and Pam is Kawi's girlfriend.

Watch the official teaser here.

Reverse With Me (novel adapted)

Amid the intricate waltz of time, Kliaokhluen's life was spared seven years ago by a mysterious medical student Karan who possesses the power to manipulate time. Saved from the brink of death, Kliaokhluen found her life purpose, yet the only remnant of her savior was a name. Haunted by an unfulfilled connection, Kliaokhluen embarks on a relentless quest for Karan. She pursues a medical degree to follow in the footsteps of her enigmatic savior until fate takes an unexpected turn when, amidst the frantic urgency of the emergency room, their paths converge once more. Karan emerges, not as a fellow student but as a cold and distant cardiothoracic surgeon. Kliaokhluen, now a seasoned sixth-year medical student, struggles to bridge the gap, yearning for acknowledgment and understanding. As the lines between past and present blur, secrets unfold, revealing a complex accident from years ago and the icy demeanor of the woman who holds the key to Kliaokhluen's unanswered questions. Will Karan remain indifferent, refusing to recognize her unique ability to control time, or will their intertwined destinies finally unravel?

Watch the official trailer here.

Shades (original plot)

The series takes place in a chaotic all-girls school. The students, who are expected to be well-behaved, are rebellious and break the rules.

Watch the official teaser here.

No Romeo (original plot)

The series follows two friends. As their feelings evolve, financial and family issues come into play, bringing complication and depth to their relationship.

I’m Your Moon (novel adapted)

In the Buddhist year 2456 (1913), social rank and tradition bars the love between two princesses. Her Serene Highness Princess Phiangrawi and Her Serene Highness Princess Sasinapha are like sun and moon; they may never exist side by side. Nevertheless, their unfulfilled love and heart's wishes weave them a path back to each other. By the Buddhist year 2564 (2021), a new era has dawned when they fall back into one another's orbits. Katsakorn and Athitthan happen to meet and love blossoms in their hearts once more. The path to love, however, is never easy. The two must join hands to fight for it. Even without the veil of tradition barring them, the treacherous tale from the past still has a hold on their present.

Let’s Kick This Love (original plot)

The plot follows two main characters in an action-packed, adventure-filled story, with Senam in the cast, playing an important role in the plot. (summarised by @lesbicine)

Stuck With Me (novel adapted)

The plot revolves around Maitree and ManMek. One of them has the ability to stop time for 10 minutes. The plot mixes romance and mystery, with a good dose of tension, as the professional issues of both generate emotional complexity and the control of time can bring dramatic twists and turns. (summarised by @lesbicine)

Clairebell (novel adapted)

Belle Lalita was arrested on drug possession charges, even though the drugs weren’t hers. However, with the overwhelming evidence against her, her lawyer argued that there was no chance of winning the case, even if they fought it. Reluctantly, the young woman accepted her fate and stepped into prison, sentenced to fifteen months. However, life inside prison for Belle was far from peaceful as she had expected. She became a target of a powerful group within the prison, a group so influential that even the warden turned a blind eye to their actions due to mutual benefits. Belle had no other choice. Her last hope for survival lay with Claire, known as "Nineteen Scars," a notorious inmate whom no one dared approach. Amidst the storm of her life, while being confined and stripped of her freedom, Belle gradually began to feel the kindness hidden within Claire. Similarly, Claire started to learn how to empathize with others through Belle. "Love" slowly blossomed behind the towering prison walls, despite the increasing obstacles from both the powers within the prison and the outside world that had not been completely severed.

Somewhere, Somehow (novel adapted)

A hilarious and heartbreaking love story about a talented female engineer and her beautiful, fierce, and brutal female vice president that will make you smile, laugh, and cry with it.

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galedekarios · 8 hours ago

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hezenkoss: it's touching that you brought your new friends to do with you, volkarin. hezenkoss: i'll be sure to bury you and your new lover in the same tomb!

i got this line finally during the fight with hezenkoss on my emmrich romance pt. the fight usually ends too quickly to trigger all combat dialogue.

anyhow, this banter once again reminded me of the short story 'flame eternal'.

i'm not sure if the callback is intentional, if it is, it's a cruel one.

the short story references johanna and emmrich investigating a haunting that they later find out is caused by two lovers being separated in death. emmrich manages to soothe the spirit by reuniting them:

Emmrich closed his eyes. Whispers came, and when he spoke, the air vibrated. “By breath and shadow. By endless night. Tell us what haunts you.” The skull’s sockets flared green. “Divided. Cold. Two graves where there should be one!” “Twaddle.” “Johanna!” Emmrich cleared his throat and turned back to the skull. “Tell me: what will grant you rest?” “Take this one… to sunken black walls… by silver flames…” The skull’s glow flickered, faded. It resumed its earsplitting shrieks.

and

Emmrich leaned over a coffin ringed by bowls of silver fire. He placed the skull next to the body of an old woman, humbly dressed but crowned with white roses. The screaming stopped. “Mathilde…” “Your wife left gently, in her sleep, last midnight.” Emmrich smiled. “The records confirm she also wished to be interred together. You’ll not be parted again.” There was a sigh. Did the old woman’s mouth quirk, or was that the dancing flames? Johanna snorted. “All that fury, ending in another grave.” “Oh, I don’t know.” Emmrich ran a hand along the coffin’s snowy marble. “It would be rather fine to possess such an enduring affection. Besides, you did see this through.”

you can read the entire short story here, if you haven't yet, and i highly recommend it.

#having said that #emmrich will have to pull leander back when johanna's in her skull jail ngl #emmrich volkarin #johanna hezenkoss #rook dragon age #emmrich x rook #rook x emmrich #dragon age 4 #dragon age: the veilguard #da4 #datv #otp: love undying #ch: emmrich volkarin #ch: leander aurelian thorne #ch: johanna hezenkoss #vg: dragon age 4 #series: dragon age #da4 spoilers #datv spoilers

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niningtori · 17 hours ago

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for the hope of it all | parts i-iii

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu since the first time you saw him, but he sees you as nothing more than a good friend and faithful wingwoman. when he asks you to help him catch another girl, who just so happens to be one of your closest friends, things get complicated.

genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, smut (mdni)

warnings: smut (mdni), beomgyu is a fucking asshole, manipulative!gyu, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (vaginal), oral (f. receiving) dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 18.7k

notes: ... hi. literally nobody asked for this, but i realized that part 2 of this work didn't even show up in the tags, so i decided to compile all of the previous parts as well as the ending together. hopefully, you all enjoy this. i'm still struggling, but i pray you all still like it even if it's not me at my best. feedback is always appreciated :) thank you!

part I: august

beomgyu really likes her — like, really— and who can blame him? you certainly can’t. chaewon is a lovely, lovely girl, so it should come as no surprise when beomgyu asks you to, in his words, help him bag her. you’re not one with a particularly strong character at the best of times, so when he practically begs you to convince one of your closest friends that he’s actually not the heartbreaking manwhore he definitely is, you can’t find it in yourself to say no.

it doesn't help that he has enough charisma to charm even the most indifferent target he sets his eyes on, it doesn't help that he's so handsome it makes everyone either want him or want to be him, and it most certainly doesn't help that you've been in love with the boy for the entire time that you've known him. him asking absolutely anything of you would result in you relenting, so when he asks for something as seemingly inconsequential as setting him up with a mutual friend, accepting it is a matter of course. does it hurt your heart to see him pining after someone else when you basically consider him as your soulmate? of course. but his happiness means more to you than your own. if she makes him happy, then so be it.

that's what you tell yourself, at least.

beomgyu doesn’t know that you love him — he can’t possibly know — or else he’d treat you differently, right? you don’t want that. you don’t want anything to change, at least not in the disastrous way you anticipate confessing your love to him would go, so you’ve kept your feelings close to your chest to keep him from suspecting anything. you think you’ve gotten pretty good at concealing your feelings. for example, you laugh when he tells you about his sexual escapades, and you don’t hesitate to give him advice on how to woo the girls who are wary of his lasciviousness. you only want to show him the good parts of you, carefully tucking any ugly seeds of jealousy or sadness away from his prying eyes.

the thing is, though, beomgyu is not stupid; and to your never-ending misery, you are not the greatest actress. he can see the crestfallen look on your face for the split second before you can contort your features into a smile. he can hear the tremble in your voice as you force out a laugh. with his godforsaken intuition, he can sense the hesitation in your movement when you playfully push him aside as he over-dramatically recounts his latest raunchy fuck.

all of this has no discernible consequence, though. if anything, your feelings have been his faithful friend and ally when it comes to conspiring with you to land whatever girl piques his interest at the moment. you may not be a prospective partner, but you are a great wingwoman, he’ll give you that much. and that’s exactly what he needs when dealing with chaewon, who has proven to be a particularly tough nut to crack. he doesn’t usually go for people he would consider friends, if only because he doesn’t like dealing with the messy aftermath, but her refusal to look his way is just too entertaining. he has no earthly idea why this cat and mouse game intrigues him the way it does, but he’s hooked like none other, especially because her reasons for pulling away when she’s definitely as attracted to him as he is to her are unclear. maybe she just doesn’t want to seem easy? whatever it is, he likes it. he likes her.

“so what's the plan?” soobin asks.

“what do you mean?” you blink as you turn towards him, effectively taken out of your daze. you've been staring at a new instagram picture of beomgyu for at least ten minutes now. there's not much going on in it — it's just a candid taehyun took of him — but you can't stop the yearning you feel in your heart as you wish you had been the one to take it, instead.

“i mean, what's your big plan to ‘help’ him this time?” there’s a trace of resentment in his tone as he puts air quotes around “help”. you know he thinks you're just wasting your time on a boy who will never feel the same way you do, but what can you do? you still love him.

“i’m… i’m just going to talk him up to chae, no big deal,” you say rather unconvincingly, because it is a big deal. it’s the biggest deal in the world to you.

“and what are you gonna say? ‘hey, i know you know beomgyu is garbage, but deep down, he’s actually not garbage even though, even deeper down, he really is?’” his words are sarcastic and, for lack of a better term, downright hateful.

“he’s not garbage, binnie,” you chastise. “he’s actually really sweet once you get to know him.”

“sweet? sweet how, exactly?” he sneers. you just sigh and shake your head. beomgyu is a frequent point of contention in your friendship with soobin, but you don’t know how to overcome it. mostly, arguments surrounding him devolve into conversations like the one you’re having right now.

“he puts on a tough act, but he’s not really like that on the inside,” you insist. “you just don’t know him like i do.”

“and thank god for that,” he snorts, and you frown. you can tell he feels guilty by the way his expression immediately softens.

“hey, i’m sorry,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear. “i just don’t like to see you hurting.”

“i’m not hurting,” you lie. “i’m totally fine. it’s just… i just want to see him happy.” you actually do mean that last part. beomgyu, though seemingly carefree, is actually a lot more insecure and sensitive than one might think. you know this because he’s shown you that side of him many, many times, which must mean that he trusts you like no one else. you are honored to be the one he feels comfortable with, and even if it never amounts to anything more than that, you’re thankful you get to see how he really is.

“and you think being with a new girl every week will make him happy?” he softly asks, no edge to his voice, but his words hurt even more than they did before.

“it's different this time, binnie. i'm serious. i've never seen him like this before. i think he really likes her.” and the words almost kill you to say, but you mean them, anyway.

“okay,” he relents. “just do what you want to do. i’ll be there for you no matter what.”

“thank you,” you reply with a small smile, before putting your nose back into your phone and staring at beomgyu’s pictures again. you don’t catch it, but soobin sighs as he watches you.

you’ve been trying really, really hard. usually, all you have to do is talk about good points about beomgyu, and women fall for it hook, line, and sinker. chaewon is not most women, though, and she makes that abundantly clear with the polite smiles and airy laughs she gives you when you try to bring up beomgyu.

you don't get it. if you had beomgyu’s attention, you’d never let it go, so it makes no sense to you how someone could have it without taking the opportunity to seize it. if it were you, you’d seize it. if it were you, you'd tell him you’ve loved him since the first time you saw him. if it were you — well, it doesn't really matter, does it? because it isn't you. still, you can’t help but dream.

the sentiment that it will never be you becomes clearer and clearer as you watch beomgyu try to initiate conversation with chaewon at his very own house party you are currently attending. you watch from the sidelines as they sit uncomfortably close together, legs flush against one another, as beomgyu wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in to whisper in her ear. you like to think you’re content with him being with her even if it means you’ll be without him, but it’s difficult to feel that way when you actually see it playing out before you. your heart feels like stone weighing heavily in your chest as she giggles at whatever he says, and you think that things might start looking up for him before her smile suddenly melts into a little frown.

without warning, she pries his arm off of her and gives him a perfunctory smile before standing up and smoothing out her skirt. then, she grabs her drink from the coffee table and he's left alone. his previously delighted expression is now filled with irritation and disappointment. you're still staring at him, just trying to get a read on the situation as you're left reeling, and before you know it, he's looking up at you. you're a little embarrassed at being caught, but you realize you can play your intrigue off as objectively analyzing the situation in order to help him better. surely he’ll fall for that, right? every time you say something similar, he buys it with no further questions.

he makes eye contact with you then nods towards his room as a silent plea to talk to him in private. if someone were to ask you how you’re able to deduce all of that from one look alone, you’d probably say it’s because you know beomgyu like the back of your hand — and maybe you do, but it’s like a subconsciously trained reaction more than anything. just as you know what beomgyu will do next, he knows you’ll understand his seemingly innocuous gestures.

you head up the stairs and beomgyu shuts his bedroom door behind you. you prepare to launch into your readymade explanation as to why you were rubbernecking earlier, but he speaks before you can say anything at all.

“why isn’t it working?” he huffs. “did you talk to her like i asked you to?”

“yes, of course i did!” you eagerly insist. you would never lie to beomgyu — well, not about this, at least. your secret feelings are another story.

“then why does she keep rejecting me?” he huffs. you wish you could answer him. truly, you do. you scramble for the right words, but you sincerely can't wrap your head around her logic, or lack thereof.

he’s still waiting for an answer, though, so you think back to the recent conversations you’ve had with soobin, and you realize there’s only one plausible conclusion.

“she just doesn’t know you enough, beoms. if she knew how you really are and how much you like her, she wouldn't act this way; but honestly, she probably thinks you’re just messing with her,” you explain, and you hope beyond hope that he doesn’t take it the wrong way. you don’t want to hurt his feelings by suggesting that his (newly) former playboy ways could be ruining his chances with her.

beomgyu’s feelings, of course, are not hurt. in fact, he just feels more annoyed than anything else. it’s really fucking irritating how he can’t seem to get a read on her or her intentions. she likes him, he can definitely tell, so what’s the problem with him having a messy past? it’s clear that it doesn’t bother you. well, it does, but in a different way. you’d forgive his previous transgressions in a heartbeat if it meant that he’d look your way, so why can’t she be the same? but then, he supposes that comparing someone as lovesick as you are to a normal girl is a bit unfair.

but why are you so lovesick? it’s obvious that he’s handsome and funny, so falling for him is only natural, but your devotion is on another level. not only that, but you’re devoted in spite of the fact that he clearly wants nothing to do with you. in all honesty, it’s almost like you love him even more when you see him chasing after somebody else... then suddenly, the solution is clear. he has to make her think he doesn’t want her; and the easiest way to do that is to pretend he’s interested in someone else. in the same vein, who better else to pretend with than one of chaewon’s closest friends? you’re absolutely perfect for the job.

beomgyu’s demeanor goes from irritated to self-satisfied, and it puzzles you to no end. maybe he figured out a way to show his true feelings for her? but then why is he looking at you with such intensity? he’s never looked at you this way in the many years that you’ve known him. wait, did he realize something? please, god, don’t let that be the case. you really don’t think you can —

and your train of thought is stopped when beomgyu strides over to you and locks the door behind you. you look up at him with confusion in your eyes before you finally register what that intense gaze of his really is: predatory.

suddenly, his lips are on yours and you’re holding back a squeal. your eyes widen as he cups his big hands around your cheeks and pulls you in even closer. he tastes like alcohol, which is to be expected, but there's a certain uniqueness to his taste that you can't really put into words; and you’re able to taste it even more as his tongue enters your mouth. you groan at the action, and surprisingly, he does, too.

you always assumed kissing beomgyu would make you feel like everything was finally right in the world, and it does — it really, sincerely does — but there’s also a certain spark you were not anticipating. something a lot more fiery, and it shoots straight to your core as your tongues tangle together lasciviously. beomgyu seems to know this, and he smirks into the kiss before trailing his warm mouth down your neck. you gasp at the sensation, which just makes him laugh.

his hands have traveled from your cheeks to your chest, one staying there to grab at your tits while the other one carelessly finds its way up your skirt.

“so wet,” he whispers in awe when he rubs his fingers against your soaked panties. “is this all because of me?” you feel your cheeks warm and you’re stammering out your next words.

“w-well, i —”

“is this all because of me?” he repeats, and you give him a feeble nod before covering your face in shame.

“cute,” he snickers, and your previously warm cheeks are now scorching to the touch.

he moves your panties to the side and rubs against your sensitive clit, which sends pulsations through your entire body, but that’s nothing in comparison to how you feel when he presses a finger into your dripping hole.

“you’re so tight,” he whispers, lust clearly written all over his face at the prospect of being in your pussy relatively soon; but he wants to enjoy this, he wants to enjoy the way your face screws up as he presses his finger so deep, he’s hitting places previously untouched. he slowly pulls it out, grazing your most sensitive spot with ease before adding another digit in, making you almost groan from the stretch. you bite your lip to avoid making such a sound, but beomgyu pays your attempted discretion no mind as he starts to hammer his fingers into you at a brutal pace.

it doesn’t take long for you to come undone around his skilled fingers, and once you’re done pulsating around him, he takes them out for a taste.

“so good,” he remarks, and though your breathing is heavy and your eyes are hazy, you still have it in you to feel embarrassed. he takes your smaller hand in his and leads you to his messy bed, carelessly sweeping every loose item — a t-shirt here, an old cd there — off of it in one go. he lays you down and hungrily licks his lips once he strips you down until you’re fully unclothed.

you’re feeling extremely small in this moment. you know beomgyu has had his pick of the litter when it comes to women, so you can’t help but wonder how you fare in comparison to the literal bombshells he’s been known to take home. mostly, though, you wonder how you compare to chaewon, as awful as that sounds. if you really think about it, there’s no comparison to be made, really. she’s her, and you’re you. what else is there to say, honestly? still, you’re comforted by the thought that you are the one underneath him right now, not her, and he does not seem disappointed in the slightest if the tent in his jeans means anything at all.

before you can think too much about it, he’s practically tearing his shirt off and you can’t help but stare. his torso is lean and a little paler than the rest of him, probably due to the lack of sun. objectively speaking, he’s no greek god or anything similar, but to you, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. if he notices your awed reaction, he doesn’t say anything or really care, because he is simply too busy studying how perfect you seem to look under his dimmed lights. again, he is delighted at the prospect of being inside of you very soon.

he unzips his jeans and slides them, along with his boxers, off of his slim thighs and you can finally see him completely. his cock is a red so deep it’s nearly purple, with evidence of his lust leaking out of its flared tip. you’ve heard a lot about beomgyu’s physique from stories, his and his hookups’ alike, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. you’re not a virgin or anything, but you’re still unsure of how you’re meant to fit him inside of you. and you have no idea how you’re supposed to approach the subject.

beomgyu does not seem to understand your internal battle, though, because he wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance. before he pushes in, though, he drags his cock along your soaking wet seam just to coat himself in your slick. when he feels he can’t take any more of his own teasing, he begins to push in.

“j-jesus christ!” he exclaims as he tries to push his tip through your entrance. “are you a virgin or some shit?”

“nngh — n-no! i-i’m not. i’ve — mmh — i’ve had boyfriends before,” you say as best as you can while dealing with the feeling of him literally fucking you open. you’re worried he’s not enjoying himself in light of his outburst and his decidedly strained expression.

“god, s-so tight,” he drawls. “feels so goddamn good.” he draws his hips back before pushing in again, further this time, and his words of praise seem to comfort you somehow, because he’s able to sheathe himself completely in you.

he groans when he feels your gummy walls wildly contracting around him — unsure of what to do with the pleasurable intrusion and working tirelessly to simultaneously push him out and pull him in. you, on the other hand, feel nothing but full. you’re so full you ache, so after a few moments of adjusting, your watery eyes are filled with an insatiable sense of pleading.

“you okay?” he asks, actually somewhat sweetly.

“y-yes — ah — i just feel w-weird,” you say. “feel so — fuck — full.” your seemingly innocent words drive him to the brink of insanity, so with reddened eyes, he grabs your hips so hard, you know he’ll leave marks in his wake, and without warning he begins drilling into you.

his thrusts are not calculated or intentional in any sense — they’re rough and fast and show his desperation. why he’s so desperate, he has no idea. beomgyu is sleazy even on a good day, so women come a dime a dozen, but he feels an unquenchable need he feels will only be satisfied if he continues to fuck you like a man gone mad. so he does.

your breasts bounce with every thrust and while he wants to grab one, his thirst only makes him want to go even deeper in you, so he employs his hands to manhandling you into a mating press. the new position has him going even deeper, and you can feel him hitting your cervix with each nasty snap of his hips. tears at the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed spring in your eyes and you have to clamp your hand over your lips to keep from crying out.

“let me hear you,” he pleads while gently moving your hand from your mouth and not-so-gently fucking you like a breeding whore, and he’s not sure if he’s saying it because he wants to make sure chaewon hears or just because he desperately wants to hear you for himself.

“fuck!” you exclaim, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “s-so big!”

“oh, sweetheart,” he rambles, “who were you fucking before? they didn’t deserve this tight little pussy. they didn’t fuck you like you deserve to be fucked — like a good little whore.”

“‘m n-not a whore,” you tearily insist, somehow convinced that he means his words. you’re not completely inexperienced, but you’re not a whore, right?

but your innocence only makes him wanna ruin you more, claim you completely.

“you’re taking cock so well, but you wanna tell me you’re not a whore?” he snickers meanly, and you feel so delirious, you find yourself agreeing with what he says.

the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin and the sharp knocking of the headboard fill the room, and the heat you feel building up inside of you has you seeing stars. beomgyu pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss as he finally lets one of your legs down in order to snake his hand against your clit, which he languidly rolls in the midst of his pistoning in and out of you.

“are you gonna come for me?” he asks as his lips part from yours. “are you gonna come all over my cock?”

“y-yes, please,” you sob. “wanna come!”

“then do it, baby. let go for me,” and with the way he’s rolling your clit while fucking into you, you can’t help but comply.

he hisses when he feels you contracting around him, tightening up even more than before and pulling him in impossibly deeper. that’s all it takes, really, before he comes undone himself and sprays his thick, hot load into your spasming pussy.

he collapses on top of you, and both of you take a few moments just to catch your breath before he pulls out of you with a wince. he’s absolutely enthralled by the way the mix of both of you two’s cum leaks out of you as soon as he does so. he’s almost tempted to swirl it back in and plug you up, but his rational side stops him before he can do anything he’ll regret.

“are you on the pill?” he asks, and you nod.

“good, go ahead and get a plan b, too. just in case,” he says with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you nod with a delirious smile even in spite of his pedantic words. you’re just so happy you got to sleep with him, be closer to him.

“oh, i almost forgot to actually tell you,” he laughs. “i think fucking you will make chaewon jealous. i think we put on a pretty good show tonight, don’t you?”

and your heart and your hope and your dignity shatter like nothing else.

“y-yeah,” you try to reply with a laugh, but it sounds more forced than anything else you’ve ever heard in your life. “it was a really good show.”

“you slept with him?!” soobin asks, and he seems beyond frustrated. if you had the guts to look him in his eyes, though, you’d notice just how much hurt is in them.

“y-yeah…” you mumble, face downcast.

“why? why would you do that? you’re just going to be even more hurt!” he exclaims, and you shrink into yourself even more, not out of fear, but out of pure shame.

“i don’t know! it all just happened so fast, a-and i, i don’t know, i just couldn’t stop myself,” is all you manage to say. soobin groans at your words.

“you do realize that getting over him is going to be even harder for you now, right?” he asks, and you finally look up at him for a second before looking back down and nodding, and it’s almost like you’re a child who got caught doing something they knew was wrong.

“i know, and i’m sorry,” you mutter, still struggling to make eye contact, but soobin catches your timidity and his gaze is softened as he pulls your face up to look at him.

“you don’t have to apologize to me,” he sighs. “i’m just worried about you, you know?”

“i know, i know. but i’m still really sorry.” and you don’t have to elaborate on why that is because you both know that he’ll be the one helping you pick up the pieces when this situation inevitably breaks your heart even more than it’s already broken, if that’s even possible.

“it’s alright,” he says, pulling you in for a hug that’s so warm and kind you almost burst into tears. “you’ll be alright. i’m here.”

this is a bad idea. soobin would yell at you if you told him what you’re up to, but you don’t want to think about that right now. all you want to think about is how much better you’ll feel after you get your secret feelings off of your chest. up until now, the fear of rejection has made you too afraid to tell beomgyu how you really feel, but things can’t get much worse than they are at present, can they? it’s only been a few days since your hookup with beomgyu, but your love is eating you alive and you doubt that you’ll be able to hold it in for much longer.

things will probably go badly, and he’ll probably be completely blindsided, but the thought of continuing to lie to beomgyu’s face hurts more than anything else ever could. even more than the pain you feel every day that he unconsciously hurts your feelings. maybe this will ruin your friendship, but you love beomgyu, and he loves you, even if it’s not in the way that you want. all you can do is hope that your friendship is strong enough to overcome this.

with that mindset, you find yourself at his doorstep on this particularly cool summer night. you know he’s home because you can hear the faint sounds of whatever movie he’s watching emanating from his door. before you can lose your nerve, you begin to rapidly knock. before long, you hear the shuffling of feet nearing you, and you almost bolt then and there, but he’s quick to open the door when he realizes it’s just you.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, agitation apparent. oh god, were you interrupting something? what if he was working? what if he was sleeping? you should've texted before just showing up unannounced.

“i-i’m sorry, are you busy?” you ask sheepishly.

“... no,” he says after a slight pause, and he opens the door to let you in. you sit yourself on his couch, posture ramrod straight due to how fucking uncomfortable you are, and you try to steady your breathing as you fiddle with your fingers.

“is this about chaewon?” he asks, breaking the silence, and your heart aches at the trace of hope in his words.

“n-no, nothing like that. i just —”

“is there any update on that?” he cuts in before you can even get your words out.

“oh, um, not really,” you reply before remembering that something has happened, but you’ve been so out of it, it genuinely didn't occur to you to tell him. “wait, actually, she mentioned that you seem different lately, but she, uh, she’s still… well, to be honest, she’s —”

“what? she’s still what?” and there’s no patience for your rambling to be seen.

“she’s still not interested in dating you,” you mumble, unable to look him in the eyes when you say it. he’s completely silent after your words, and when you do finally gather enough guts to actually look at him, you really, really wish you had just kept your face down. because he’s pissed.

“are you fucking with me? she really said that?” he asks, and you nod.

“why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” and you feel so disoriented at the way things are unfolding that you can barely croak out a reply.

“i-i forgot.”

“you forgot? jesus christ, if it’s not about her, then why are you here?” he seems angrier than you’ve ever seen him, but his words get you to finally remember what you’re here for.

“i just… i needed to talk to you,” you say pleadingly, looking into his eyes as you try your hardest to give yourself the strength to be honest with him.

“about?”

it takes all of the courage in your poor little heart to choke out your next words.

“beomgyu, you know, for the longest time, i’ve —”

“i know,” he impatiently snaps. you’re unsure of what he’s referencing, but you do know he has no idea about the feelings you’ve kept hidden for so long.

“no. no, you don’t know, actually,” you argue, brave face on, but voice shakier than a leaf. “i just need to tell you that i —”

“that you love me? i know, that’s what i just fucking said,” he sighs irritatedly. “why else would you help me? ‘cause you love me so much, right?” he knows it’s wrong to take his frustration out on you, but you’re so pathetic, you make it too damn easy. you’re the perfect outlet for him to unleash all of his anger.

“you… you knew? this entire time?” you ask incredulously. you feel like you’re suffocating in the face of his callousness and disgust, and the room feels smaller than it did before.

“i mean, yeah. it was kind of obvious,” he muses. your cheeks feel so hot you’re sure you’re on the brink of immolation. it was obvious? if it was obvious, then why did he keep you around in the first place? because you’re useful when it comes to helping him get his dick wet?

“so… so why did you…” you trail off, still finding it inconceivable that the beomgyu you know and love could possibly know about your feelings; and not only are they unreciprocated by him, which you could understand and respect, but they’re nothing more than a fucking joke and means to an end. the end in question being burying himself into other women.

“why did i act like i didn’t know? because i don't feel the same way,” he answers, and you already knew it and knew it well, but that doesn't make it any more digestible to hear.

“y-yeah, but you — how could you still sleep with me? how could you do that to me?” you ask, lips wobbling and voice cracking. you can't believe this. you won't believe this. you have to be misunderstanding something somewhere. there's just no way this is it.

“because it was easy,” he says with a shrug, and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

because it was easy.

easy. what a funny word. you don’t think you even fully comprehend what it means in this context, actually. easy, easy, easy, but what part of this has been easy for you? every day, it’s like you’re killing yourself by trying to twist into what he wants you to be. a friend, a confidant, and now, even a lover. but lover is being too generous, isn't it? because he does not love you, not even as a friend, and this discovery becomes clearer and clearer as you think back to every time he’s shown you just how little he cares.

soobin’s litany of warnings come back to haunt you with a vengeance.

he’s just using you.

he’s garbage.

he’s just gonna hurt you.

and though you know soobin will take no pleasure in being correct, you can't help but dread the “i told you so” you know he will never be mean enough to say, but will inevitably think.

“i thought we were friends,” you say incredulously, dread and anxiety pooling in the deepest recesses of your heart. “i thought you cared about me”

and he doesn’t shrug or anything because he doesn’t really need to, but he might as well seeing as how it clearly makes no difference to him. and this is finally how you come to understand that beomgyu is just as bad as everyone says. maybe even a little worse. and he will continue to act like a sociopath for as long as you let him.

“i-i love you, i really do. but no fucking way. i won’t sit here and let you treat me like shit,” you declare, tears flowing down your cheeks so quickly and steadily you’d probably be unable to wipe them away even if you tried. luckily or unluckily, you don’t even have the strength to find out.

“you’re going to regret this,” you whisper, and it’s said with such certainty that for a moment, he almost believes you. almost, but not quite.

either way, you’re booking it out of his door before he can even reply.

this is everything beomgyu ever could’ve asked for. chaewon is sitting next to him on his bed, eyes dark with lust as she unceremoniously grabs the end of her top and tugs it off. she's beautiful, no doubt about that, but he feels more and more like something is incredibly wrong.

she leans in to press her lips onto his, but he flinches, scooting almost imperceptibly further away from her on the bed. she falters for a moment before sighing and crawling on all fours to situate herself between his legs. she begins to unzip his pants and tug on his waistband before he frantically stops her.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks, voice shaking.

“blowing you, what does it look like i’m doing?” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “i just wish i had known you wouldn’t be into kissing or, like, actual foreplay, but whatever.” she continues her movement to pull his pants down before he stops her again.

“what’s wrong?” she asks curiously, before finally realizing that he is, to what would normally be his eternal shame, completely soft. her mouth drops in shock, and in another universe, beomgyu has enough energy to care. but not in this one. in this one, his eyes are teary as he feels an implacable sense of dread he can’t seem to shake off.

“oh god,” she says with conviction, pulling herself back up and running one hand through her hair. “i knew this would happen.”

beomgyu, on his part, looks somewhat out of it, but her words bring him back to earth.

“knew what would happen?” he asks tentatively, sniffling for reasons unknown to him while he tries not to let his tears run over his waterlines.

“i knew you’d act like this because of her,” she says begrudgingly.

his eyebrows furrow for a second, not because he doesn’t already know who she’s talking about, but because he doesn’t understand the correlation between you and the situation he presently finds himself in.

“think about it,” she says slowly, condescendingly. “who do you trust, like, actually? and i’m not just talking about with getting girls, but with everything.” beomgyu is silent as he tries to comprehend what she's saying, but he’s nothing if not slow on the uptake in regards to human emotion.

“oh, beomgyu, come the fuck on,” she sighs in frustration. “i mean, when you were stressed about that presentation for your job, who did you call? yunjin told me all about it. she said you spent hours reciting a 15 minute presentation to the girl you supposedly don’t give a fuck about.” ah. he remembers that night, actually, and he remembers it well. he called you in a panic, so you brought over some dinner because you knew he was stressed, but he was so wound up that you didn’t leave and even insisted that he practice with you in order to give him feedback. he spent the whole night repeating the same speech over and over again, but you sat patiently and encouragingly as he repeated the boring, inconsequential drivel to you. you never complained, not even once, and you didn’t ask him for any compensation in the form of him doing something — anything — similar for you, either. even if you had, he realizes, he wouldn't have given any to you, anyway.

“that’s…”

“and that’s not even all of it. who’s the first one you look for when you walk into a room? and when something good happens, who do you tell first? not anybody else, and i know for a fact that it’s not me, never will be,” she says bitterly. every new point slashes at his heart and ego.

and suddenly, things start making sense, albeit in the worst possible way. beomgyu loves you. his trust and dependence on you all make an awful sort of sense, but in a way, it’s relieving to finally be able to put a name to this feeling. his eyes still feel hot, but not so much because something feels wrong, but because things finally feel right for the first time in forever. he loves you, has loved you, and will continue to love you.

her words resonate with him so deeply, she can read it all over his face. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he finally understands, but he’s still missing an important fact. the most important fact, even.

“yeah, i guess you finally get it now. you have feelings for her. and the worst thing is: you treat her like shit.” his eyes widen and the tears that were just threatening to escape are completely let loose. how could he only come to this realization after he already effectively stomped on your heart and your pure intentions? after you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with him anymore? and he has nobody but himself to blame, really; he practically shoved you away over and over and over again.

“i-i didn’t mean to —”

“sure, of course you didn’t,” she says with a sarcastic smile. “whatever makes you feel better for fucking over the girl who’s been in love with you for years.”

beomgyu may not know much about the inner workings of interpersonal relationships, but he does know he needs to see you, and he’s smart enough to understand that he needs to apologize.

but beomgyu has never apologized for anything in his life — not unless you count the times his mother made him grit them out as a child when he would objectively do something wrong, but this is another matter entirely. nobody will be holding his hand as he does it, and he’s not even really sure where to start. but he knows he has to try.

surely there’s a better place to try than at the bar where he currently finds himself, but then, there’s no time like the present. not to mention that he has a sneaking suspicion that you're avoiding all of your mutual friends’ get-togethers for the sole purpose of avoiding him. if the blocking of all of his socials wasn’t enough, the blocking of his phone number certainly was.

it’s not necessarily fate’s fault that he finds himself here, either. he heard from a friend (chaewon) that you’d be here tonight. he sees you from across the bar looking lively and chatty, and he prays that the good mood you seem to be in will help soften the upcoming conversation with him. to his luck, you step out of the bar to take a call, so he slides from his seat with an open beer bottle in tow, and follows you outside.

your back is turned, and he doesn’t quite hear what you’re talking about over the phone, but he does catch a giggle and a name, soobin’s, and it makes his heart ache. when you hang up, you turn to head back into the bar, but you’re met with his figure.

“h-hey,” he says, and he wants to smack himself for the casual greeting he still managed to fuck up.

your eyes widen for a moment before they go blank, and you’re pushing past him without a response.

“i need to talk to you,” he says, voice trembling as he grabs the back of your elbow, which you snatch out of his grip like his touch is poison.

“about?” you ask curtly, barely even deigning to turn your head to look at him. you have never been so hostile towards anyone, let alone him, and it's making him spiral.

“i’m sorry. i’m just really, really sorry,” he desperately apologizes. you’re silent for a few moments as you turn to completely face him with your arms crossed, and he’s trying his damndest to read your expression, but he can’t quite make it out.

“okay… and?” is all you say in response, and he fumbles over his words at your nonchalance.

“a-and, um, i —”

“you know what?” you cut in with an impatient sigh and a wave of your hand. “i don’t care anymore. you’ve said enough.”

“but i —”

“i don’t care, beomgyu.” and his name is said in such disgust that it sounds to him like it’s a chore for you to spit out. you’re about to turn and reenter the bar when his next words come tumbling out.

“i think — i know — i love you,” he says urgently, and your previously unreadable gaze turns into one of pure, sheer amusement. you’re so amused, you laugh, even.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you say between giggles.

“i-i didn’t realize it before, but i talked to chaewon, and she even said that i’ve probably always felt that way about you. i know i didn’t show it, but i really do love —”

“okay, just stop. stop it right there, beomgyu. i’m only going to say it just this once, so listen carefully, okay?” you ask, and he fervently nods.

“okay. you don't know the first thing about love.” and he goes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him. “loving somebody means you put their feelings above your own. what the hell would you know about that?”

“i’m… i know i was wrong, b-but i —”

“beomgyu,” you say exasperatedly. “i’m so glad you’re finally reaching enlightenment, and i’m so happy i was cannon fodder for you to use to get there. but i just really, really don’t care anymore, okay? do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore, alright?” and he’s so stunned he can’t even form words, but you just shake your head and prepare to leave again. unconsciously, he goes to grab you again, which you consequently dodge, and he thinks this is the most rejected he’s ever felt before realizing it’s not over yet. it’s only truly over when you grab his bottle from him and splash its contents across his face before throwing the bottle back into his arms and leaving for good.

part ii: cardigan

beomgyu can’t tell if his eyes are stinging from the alcohol you splashed in his face or from the sheer humiliation he feels. maybe from both. probably from both. either way, tears fall as a result. he probably looks like a madman as he stumbles along the concrete on his walk home from the bar. he still has the beer bottle you shoved at him in his hand, and luckily for him, there’s still enough in there to help him get a little tipsier than he already is. he needs it, too, because your words play like a broken record in his head.

you don’t know the first thing about love.

do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore.

each and every word feels like you knew exactly the right thing to say to pierce his heart, but he knows better than to think you cared enough to think about it to the point of choosing them so carefully. no, the words you said were what you really felt at the moment. you didn’t even have to try to hurt him, you just had to tell the truth. somehow, that hurts even more.

he replays the entire debacle in his head and tries to think of what he could have said differently. to be honest, there are a lot things, but he has a feeling that no matter what he said, you would’ve reacted the same exact way. if he really thinks about it, maybe some small, ugly part of him hoped you’d forgive him as easily as you have always been wont to do, but it's clear to him now that he was just being delusional. maybe he was still under the impression that you’d be as easy to please as ever, but with how repulsed you seemed to be by his words, his touch, him, he has no such expectations anymore.

he now finds himself at an impasse. where does he go from here? you made it clear that you’re done with him, but he still loves you. you don't want his love anymore, so where is that love supposed to go? the only person he feels like he can ask no longer wants to speak to him. he’s unsure if he wants to turn to you because you’d understand, or just because you’re the only person he trusts.

needless to say, the walk home from the bar is a long one, indeed. one filled with pensive silence, save for the steady sound of swigs being taken from his bottle and the occasional sob.

most people in your friend group have no idea what transpired between you and beomgyu, but the smart ones, like taehyun, know something must have happened by the way you avoid hangouts in which beomgyu is present like the plague. he doesn’t pry when you bail, though, for which you are thankful. a few weeks pass before you have the epiphany that beomgyu has already ruined enough, and you won’t let him ruin your friendships, too.

when you show up to taehyun’s for his celebratory house party in lieu of a promotion at his job, everyone cheers when you walk through the door, which makes your cheeks heat up, and you feel so relieved that your friends are still the same even when it feels like it’s been an eternity since you’ve seen them. taehyun pulls you in for a hug, and you eagerly reciprocate it.

“glad you made it,” he grins.

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you say with a smile, which just makes him beam even more.

you’re pleasantly surprised to note that beomgyu is nowhere to be seen, and you relax for a bit before falling into the familiar rhythm that is being with your friends. you missed this. you missed them. and it seems like they’ve missed you just as much if their excited chatter is anything to go by. you were, admittedly, a little tense when you first came in, but all of that melts away as you join in on the banter and pure fun that is being with the people you love the most.

although beomgyu is nowhere to be found, soobin still never leaves your side. he watches the door like a hawk, and you feel at ease with the knowledge that he’s beside you regardless of the outcome. so what if beomgyu shows up? you belong here, and you have soobin and the rest of your friends with you. knowing beomgyu like you do, his passing fancy has almost certainly ended and he will ignore you like the son of a bitch that he is.

with this notion in mind, you are not at all prepared for the way the aforementioned boy slams taehyun’s front door open and drunkenly stumbles in. the room gets quiet after he does so, and everyone stares as he scans the room with blank, reddened eyes. when his gaze catches yours, you break eye contact almost immediately, opting to turn to soobin with what you hope is an unbothered look, not to keep up any pretenses with him, but because you don’t want anyone other than him to know how uncomfortable you are. in turn, he grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and he does not move to unlace his hand with yours even after he does it.

while you’re trying to be discreet, beomgyu is anything but as he continues to stare at you with a dumbed out look on his face. the intense atmosphere is only broken when taehyun stands up to greet him with a side hug and a pat on the other boy’s back.

“hey, gyu. i’m happy you’re here,” he says.

“mm,” beomgyu replies, eyes still never leaving you and lingering at the way you and soobin have your hands joined, and taehyun’s casual side hug turns into him having to support beomgyu’s weight as beomgyu almost falls over while standing.

“you’re really fucking drunk,” taehyun murmurs with a wrinkled nose as he smells the alcohol on beomgyu’s entire person. “c’mon, you can relax in my room for a bit.”

beomgyu can only nod as he leans on taehyun for stability and walks towards taehyun’s room. his gaze on you only breaks when taehyun shuts the door behind him, and if your friends didn’t know that something odd was afoot with the two of you, they certainly seem to know now as they look between taehyun’s room and your awkward figure.

“you okay?” a soft, sweet voice whispers. you turn to soobin and muster up a forced smile and a nod. his hand is still holding yours and he soothingly brushes his thumb over your hand in order to try to calm you down. somehow, it actually kind of works.

you’re here. beomgyu thought he may be hallucinating or something just because you seem to haunt him everywhere he goes now, but he knew it was the real thing when he saw how uncomfortable you were. he knows this because in his delusions, you’re either flatout rejecting him or, in the good ones, you’re forgiving him. those are the ones he likes the most, but he hates the sobering aftermath when he realizes they are, in fact, only figments of his imagination.

so now he sits on taehyun’s bed in a daze as he focuses on the door. you’re so close that his heart physically aches in yearning as it insists on closing the distance between you two, but taehyun’s sharp look stops him from doing anything too terribly stupid.

“this has got to stop,” taehyun halfway pleads, halfway scolds.

“what does?” beomgyu asks dumbly.

“showing up everywhere drunk as hell,” he replies. “look, i don’t know what’s going on, but i know it has to do with her, and i know you’re probably — definitely — in the wrong.”

beomgyu has enough shame to hang his head and purse his lips in response.

“i don’t know what you did, i don’t know what you said, but whatever it was, i know you’re not making any of it better by getting fucked up every night. stay in here, sober up, and only come out when you’re ready to act like an adult.” and with that, taehyun stalks over to the door before shutting it behind him.

beomgyu is not stupid, but he’s not exactly emotionally intelligent, either; so while taehyun’s words sting, they’re not enough to pull him out of his pity party. all he seems to care about in this moment is being next to you, but he remembers the scene of your hands locking with soobin’s. are you seeing each other now? that can’t be it. the heart does not move on that quickly, but maybe yours did. maybe you buried your feelings for him as deep as they could go in the face of the seemingly repulsive confession of love he gave to you. maybe you belong with somebody like soobin, who’s so gentle and caring. soobin definitely listens to you, cherishes you, treats you gently. maybe beomgyu didn’t exactly understand it before now, but he really understands it at this moment: soobin loves you.

maybe, in a way, he always sort of knew. maybe he felt some sort of sick satisfaction at the way you kept your eyes trained on him while soobin was training his eyes on you. maybe he felt some 12-year-old boy kind of pride at the way you seemed to put him before anyone else in spite of such a viable prospective suitor, but any contentment he may have felt is flushed away at the anxiety of you having somebody so good right besides you — somebody who is obviously much better than him.

do you feel the same way? no, even before that, are you okay? he knows he hurt you really badly. are you still hurting? he wants to know. he has to know. so before he can talk himself out of it, he’s stumbling towards the door.

things are still pretty tense when taehyun walks out, but they begin to calm down after everyone asks if beomgyu is alright and taehyun answers in the positive, and you think you might just be in the clear before realizing things are never that easy. beomgyu stumbles out of the door and his gaze immediately locks on you.

“hey,” he says a little too loudly. the room is quiet, and though he didn’t say who he was addressing, it’s obvious it’s you with the way he’s staring so intensely.

“hey,” he repeats even louder this time. to his chagrin, soobin is still next to you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t slide into the open space on the other side of you. of course, propriety would say that he shouldn’t, but propriety means nothing to beomgyu at this moment. not when he’s so drunk he smells like rubbing alcohol, and not when he’s so openly desperate he looks like a man gone mad.

with no grace to be seen, he plops down next to you, and even through your clothes and his jeans, his legs against yours still feel like they burn you. you try to move to avoid his touch so aggressively that poor, large soobin is squeezed into the armrest even more; and it’s all for naught, anyway, because beomgyu just scoots himself even closer.

“how’re you?” he slurs, and though everyone tries their best not to seem like they’re eavesdropping, they most certainly are. no matter how hard they try not to stare, their gazes keep flicking towards the two of you and their voices are a little more hushed. you’re beyond embarrassed, but beomgyu doesn’t seem to mind their looks one bit.

“beomgyu…” you whisper exasperatedly, accepting your fate as the spectacle that you currently are and trying to nip it in the bud with your obvious distaste for the situation.

“i jus’ wanna know how you are,” he says desperately as he senses your clear rejection, but to his eventual regret, he doesn't stop. you try to keep your voice low as you say your next words.

“good. look, i really don’t wanna do this with you right now. i have nothing to say to you and you don’t have anything to say to me that i actually want to hear, so i think it’s best if —”

“but i told you i love you!” he exclaims, and everyone around you ceases to pretend that they aren’t listening. how can they even pretend when he’s quite literally yelling? you don’t notice a thing, though. you’re too absorbed in the melodrama unfolding before you, in which you are in the starring role. “i… i jus’ love you so much, i —” and before he can get out his next words, you’re swiftly standing up with soobin in tow and thanking taehyun for the invite while shuffling out of the front door.

beomgyu is devastated when you leave. he takes to walking outside to taehyun’s balcony as he lets tears roam freely down his reddened face. he thinks he’s alone before he hears somebody opening the door and shutting it behind them.

“do you seriously still not get it?” chaewon sneers.

“get what?” he sniffles, and she lets out a long-suffering sigh before she gets out her next words.

“you love her, right? and you miss her?” she asks slowly, as if he’s so stupid, he wouldn’t understand her if she said it any other way.

“of course i do,” he snaps, not appreciating the condescension in her tone, but all the bite is lost in translation because he looks nothing short of pathetic as his tears steadily fall.

“right. you love her, you miss her, you want to talk to her. you, you, you. it’s still all about you and what you feel, but what about what she feels?” she asks, and he falters at her words. “all you’re doing is making things hard on her, and i can promise you that this ‘woe-is-me’ shit you’re doing right now isn’t gonna change her mind.”

he thinks back to how you acted when you loved him — how you bent over backwards to try to conceal your feelings so as not to inconvenience him. how everything you did was to make life easier on him, no matter how difficult it was for you. yes, you loved him, but you did it in a way he could accept. you did things his way, and for so long; and all he’s done in return is demand your love in his way, yet again.

“so what do i do?” he earnestly asks. “how do i get her back?”

“... after what you've done to her? you don't,” she answers after a pause, and he deflates at her words. she’s right, of course.

he thinks about how he’d feel if you treated him the way he treated you. he feels like his heart is dying in his chest just at the memory of you rejecting him, but to be rejected so cruelly? what do you even do with yourself then? he wonders how people live with that kind of hurt, but then, you did it for so long and were even able to paste a smile on your face as you did it. he remembers when he thought that you were a horrible actress because of how he could still see through you despite how bothered you obviously were by his actions, but only now does he understand how much resilience it must've taken. somehow, it just makes him miss you even more. makes him love you even more.

beomgyu is a pervert. a sick-in-the-head, nasty, freakish, bottom-of-the-barrel, lowdown, dirty pervert. that's the only way he can accurately describe himself in this moment, and the guilt is strong, but not stronger than his need to let this dream play out the way he wants it to. and the way he wants it to goes like this:

your naked body is splayed across beomgyu’s bed as you watch him undress with watery eyes.

“i need you, gyu,” you whimper as tears threaten to fall.

“shh, baby. lemme take care of you,” he whispers as he lines himself up with your entrance.

you brace yourself by locking your hands around his neck as he pushes in, and you both groan as your pussy struggles to take him in. it’s so real, he feels you spasm around him like it did on the night you spent together, and he knows he’s a goner.

he lets you adjust for a few moments before slowly pulling out, then thrusting himself back in again. each stroke feels like heaven as you cry out with every movement. he grips your hips, but he tries his best not to hurt you when he does it. you’re far too precious to leave marks on, after all.

beomgyu gets lost in the feeling all too quickly. he wants to be uncharacteristically gentle, but the feeling of you squeezing around him makes his eyes redden, and before long, he’s drilling into you.

“‘m close!” you cry out.

“me too, baby,” he whispers, and the feeling of you clenching around him as you come is enough to send him over the edge. he spills himself into you with a broken moan.

“i love you,” he says desperately as he tries to catch his breath. but even in his dreams, you don’t reply.

soobin has always been sweet, but ever since the beomgyu incident he’s been even sweeter. he shows up to your place with your favorite snacks and never asks any unsavory questions. he takes your calls in the dead of night when he’s clearly been trying to sleep. he holds your hand when you start to space out.

at first, it was easy to chalk it all up to what best friends do, but as the physical intimacy begins to increase, you start suspecting that something deeper is going on. you are not a cruel person — you’re not the type to pretend not to see something so clear when it inconveniences you (unlike a certain someone). so when soobin places your head on his shoulder during a movie night, against your meek disposition, you ask him a very simple question.

“binnie, do you like me?” and you don’t quite have the courage to look up at him while you ask him, opting to stare at the screen before you.

“yeah. yes, i do,” he replies, and while you would rather continue to avoid eye contact, you have enough respect for him to sit up and look him in his eyes.

“i’m so sorry,” you say, because what else can you say?

“i know. i know you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to tell me,” he answers with a soft, forced smile.

“i don’t wanna hurt you.”

“i know you don’t.”

“what can i do?” you ask sincerely.

“i… i don’t need you to do anything. if you need me, you have me. if you don’t need me, you still have me,” he tells you.

“that’s not fair to you.”

“then just give me some time,” he replies. “i’ll get over it if you just give me some time.”

“okay,” you nod.

“are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asks, still as concerned about you as ever. as if you’re not breaking his heart.

“i will be,” you lie. regardless of whether he believes you or not, he nods and gathers his things before leaving.

you are, in the most crass of terms, pissy drunk. your sticky situation with soobin is one for the history books, if you do say so yourself, and you lack the proper vernacular at the moment to express just how awful it is. who knew your best friend on this planet had secret feelings for you? well, it seems like everyone, actually, because as you confide in your friends, none seem to be particularly surprised. it appears that you’re the last one to find out.

of course, you’re only able to deal with the revelation by visiting your favorite bar. against your better judgment, you go alone. usually, you’d ask soobin to come with you, but you can’t do that with the way things are right now, which just makes you feel even worse. you’re on drink number three (or four… or five…) when an unknown man slides into the barstool next to you. you don’t quite catch his name, but you know you’re not interested in him, or, well, anyone at the moment. you’re far too distracted by your current circumstances to even entertain the thought of another man right now, but even as you deny, deny, deny him, he doesn’t quite seem to get the message.

your vision is blurred as you try to hint to him for what must be the umpteenth time that you’re not looking for anything at the moment, but he still doesn’t understand, and you’re starting to feel every ounce of alcohol you’ve consumed until now. you place your head in your hands as you try to keep the room from spinning, but it doesn’t seem to help, and you can feel his hand squeezing your upper thigh. you’re not the most assertive person at the best of times, and you are certainly even less so in your drunken state, so you’re trying to gather your bearings to reject him once and for all when you feel an arm sliding around your neck.

“there you are, baby. who’s this?” a baritone voice asks rather loudly, a voice you’d recognize anywhere. beomgyu’s. your gut reaction is to push him off and cuss him out, but even with your delayed reactions, you’re able to register that he’s trying to help you out as you lock eyes with his hesitant brown ones.

“gyu,” you say with what you hope is a believable smile.

“you’re taken?” the man asks disappointedly.

“yep,” you reply, and he scoffs before pushing out his barstool so abruptly, the chair squeaks before storming away.

“are you alright?” beomgyu asks quietly.

“‘m fine,” you tell him as you rip his arm off from your shoulder. “i don’t need your help.”

“i know!” he exclaims a little too desperately. “i-i know that, i just —” but the universe smacks you across the face as you begin to gag, alcohol choosing now of all times to rock your stomach with a vengeance. you begin to try to scramble off of the stool, but you’re so drunk, you’re having trouble even standing up.

without any prompting, beomgyu hurriedly pulls you up and places your arm around his shoulder before hustling you to the bathroom. you don’t even have time to close the door behind you before you’re hunched over the toilet and choking vomit out of your throat. beomgyu slams the door behind him and rushes over to your pitiful frame before shushing you and rubbing circles into your back in an attempt to calm you down. in turn, you bat his hands away without even condescending to look at him when you do it. his heart stings, but he realizes it’s not about him as you lurch forward and continue to empty your stomach.

when you’re finally finished, you feel a wet paper towel gently rubbing the sweat off of your forehead, then it travels down to your lips where vomit still pools around them. beomgyu intently cleans you up without saying a word.

“a-are you alright?” he asks meekly, and as if only now registering that it’s him, you push his hands away and say your next words.

“i thought i told you i didn’t need your fucking help. i hate when people make me repeat myself, didn’t you know?” he winces at your harsh words and sharpness of tone.

“i… i know. i’m sorry. i just thought that you might want somebody with you. i’m really sorry.” and even through your drunken stupor, you know he’s not just apologizing for his interference. but you don’t care.

“and why would i want you?” he’s silent at this before finally replying.

“you know, when you told me i’d regret it, i didn’t really understand what you meant; but i understand it now. i’m really, really regretting it. i should’ve listened to you,” he says softly with tears brimming in his reddened eyes.

you’re at a loss for words at this. what do you say? what can you say besides “i told you so”? somehow, that doesn’t quite do the sentiment justice.

part iii: betty

after vomiting, you actually feel like you’ve sobered up quite a bit, but you’re still not speaking, which beomgyu takes to heart.

“i can’t — i’m just really, really sorry,” he brokenly sobs in the face of your silence. “so sorry.”

“i know,” you reply after a pause, and you do know. you didn’t before, but his pathetic actions and demeanor have shown you that he means what he says. your acknowledgment of his repentance just makes him cry even harder, though. because it doesn’t seem to have changed a thing.

“i was a bastard. i was so fucking awful to you when you were just trying to help me, and i didn’t know what i had until you were gone,” he continues, quite openly sobbing at this point. he looks like a man gone mad as he cries in the public restroom of a bar, but what's the point of trying to keep his cool now? maybe this way, you’ll understand just how much he means what he says.

but you’re the victim. you’re the one who should be crying her heart out at the moment. you didn’t even do anything besides reject him after he’s been continuously rejecting you and treating you like gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe for years. why does he get to cry and get what he wants? what about you? you want to hold onto this injustice, but the way he crumbles in front of you makes your heart soften. no matter how angry you may be, you can't help but try to reason with him.

“beomgyu, i know you’re sorry. i really do,” you sigh, and your tone tells him everything he needs to know, but he still hangs onto every word as if they’re the most important things he’ll ever hear. still, he feels dread at what you have to say next tugging on his heartstrings.

“but it’s just not enough. you treated me like i was garbage for years. you used me and my feelings, and tossed me away whenever you wanted.” and he withers even more with every word. “and i let you do it because i loved you and i thought you didn’t know how i felt, but you fucking knew what you were doing; and you still slept with me while knowing how i felt about you. how can you expect me to forgive you for that?” you ask, and it is not completely rhetorical. you seem to be searching for an answer, but he doesn’t have one. he never did. if he could figure out how to justify any of his actions, he would, but he can’t seem to come up with anything even as he scrambles for a response.

he knows he's losing you, so why not just be honest? as a last ditch effort, he lays everything out on the table.

“you said you loved me,” he says. “m-maybe, if i can be better, you’ll love me again. i can be good for you, i-i know i can. so if you just —”

“beomgyu,” you interrupt, though not maliciously. you seem to have some level of patience for him even in spite of everything. “i still love you. love was never the problem.” and he can’t help but feel a shred of hope bud in the wake of your words, but it’s killed in its crib at what you say next. “but that’s just not enough anymore. the way you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks is how i’ve felt for years. i bet you can’t even imagine that — i don’t even want you to imagine that, actually. it just hurts too much.”

and while you just said that you didn’t want him to, he can’t help but envision exactly that: the feeling that he had when you were with soobin multiplied exponentially. and for so long. and with different people. that same pain over and over and over again with no reprieve besides for the hope that someday, if you’re lucky, you might have a chance. someday, maybe any day, but probably not any time soon. to live like that and for so long, just thinking about it makes his heart ache and his stomach churn.

“do you understand me now?” you ask, and gone are the traces of resentment and disgust. your gaze is only filled with pity. somehow, that makes him feel even worse.

“y-yeah,” he says breathlessly with an inhale so sharp, it’s as if he’s in physical pain, all the while trying desperately to gather his bearings and to look and sound like a functioning member of society. he fails in light of his constant stream of tears. “i, um, i get it now.”

“okay,” you say softly. “i’m going to call yunjin so she can pick me up. can you get home safely?” this is it. you don’t have to say it, but he knows that you two will never speak again after this. what else is there to say, after all?

“i can.”

“good,” you smile, and he tries his best to smile, too, but he doesn’t quite make it there. “goodbye, beomgyu.”

“goodbye,” he whispers shakily, and he looks so profoundly devastated that you wish you could comfort him, but you know it’d just make things worse; so without another word, you leave him alone as you prepare to call yunjin.

beomgyu doesn’t know how long he spends in the wake of your absence, but he cries until no more tears will leave his eyes. when he's all cried out, eyes swollen and face red, he leaves the bar in a state of borderline delirium. your words echo in his unstable state of mind, and he realizes that even when you had every right to treat him like the scum of the earth, you were kinder than he could ever reasonably expect for you to be. it seems that you still gave him more than he ever deserved. as always.

things with soobin have stayed in an odd sort of purgatory for weeks now, but unfortunately or not, life goes on, so you don't have the luxury of ruminating on it as much as you probably need to. you don't reach out very much for fear of unwittingly making your circumstances with him even more difficult for him to move past, but that certainly doesn't mean that you don't miss him. still, you prioritize his feelings in the matter over your own and patiently await the day where he finally feels comfortable enough to be friends with you once more. he forgoes most of the gatherings that your friends arrange, and it's like a knife to the heart every time.

as for your situation with beomgyu, you deliberately try to push that out of your mind as frequently as humanly possible. you feel like things have ended on the best note you could ever ask for, and your friends know better than to bring him up around you, so you figure that ignorance is bliss. old habits die hard, though, and you find yourself wanting to check on him, but you remind yourself that that’s not your job anymore — and it never should have been in the first place, really, which is enough to stop you in your tracks on the bad nights where you want nothing more than to reach out. you reason with yourself that he has friends, so there’s no need to concern yourself with him.

but you miss him. you miss when you were stupid enough to believe that he didn’t know about your feelings. you wish you could go back and erase your love for him so you two could go back to just being friends. what he did was unforgivable, you know that, but you still miss all the times he made you laugh. still, that pales in comparison to all the times he made you cry, right? that's how you should look at things. that's how you will look at things.

as it is, you’re perfectly fine with never speaking to him again. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“are you okay?” taehyun asks in a hushed tone. he hasn’t seen beomgyu in over a month now, but beomgyu finally agreed to come out with him after taehyun said he missed him. now, they are seated in a booth at the dimly lit bar just down the street from taehyun’s place.

“y-yeah,” beomgyu replies with a forced upturn of his lips as he sloshes around the non-alcoholic drink in his cup. after the last time you saw him, he decided to ditch alcohol for the time being. taehyun was right about him needing to act like an adult, and he just knows that if he were to get even a drop of alcohol in him, he’d come crawling back to you, probably to your disgust.

“good,” taehyun sighs in relief. “i was really worried about you for a while there, you know? everyone was.”

“i know,” beomgyu answers perfunctorily. everyone has been worried about him and has said as much. well, pretty much everyone except for you.

“are you ever gonna talk about what happened?” taehyun carefully probes, which causes beomgyu to cease all actions and stare blankly at his cup — liquid still gently swishing back and forth.

“nothing happened that you probably didn’t already guess,” beomgyu says with a derisive smile. its sentiment is not directed at taehyun, however, but at himself.

“that doesn't mean i don't want to hear it from you,” taehyun replies.

with a sigh of defeat, beomgyu begrudgingly recounts his circumstances with you, sparing no details. at first, taehyun's eyes widen every so often, but after a while, his face relaxes into something somber and resigned. when beomgyu is finished, his gaze remains locked on taehyun’s face, searching for any semblance of a reaction, but he remains stoic.

“well?” beomgyu asks impatiently.

“well, what?” taehyun says after a moment, and he's tempted to just leave it at that, but after looking into beomgyu’s pleading eyes, he realizes that he needs to say more. “you fucked up, but you know that already. i would say that i can't believe you did that, but if it's you, i can believe it,” he sighs, and beomgyu really wishes he hadn't pressed taehyun for more, because he feels smaller and smaller with every new word.

“i know. i’m a piece of shit who doesn't deserve her. i never did,” beomgyu relents, feeling completely helpless. he wasn't expecting comfort or anything like that — he doesn't deserve it, but he's still hurt by taehyun's words, regardless of their validity. they just further confirm what he already knows.

“yeah, you're right,” taehyun agrees with a nod, and beomgyu deflates even more, if that's even possible.

“is… is she okay?” beomgyu asks timidly. he's been too afraid to ask about you, but now that taehyun knows the truth, it seems pointless to beat around the bush.

“not really,” taehyun says with a twitch of his lips.

“why not?!” beomgyu exclaims a little too loudly. taehyun hurriedly shushes him before glancing around the bar to make sure nobody’s attention has been drawn to the two of them.

“why not?” beomgyu repeats, voice lower this time, but urgency just as palpable.

“i don't know. i think something happened between her and soobin, but neither of them will talk about it. i'm sure you can guess what happened, though,” taehyun sighs. and he's right. beomgyu can guess, but he can't quite believe it. you must've rejected soobin, but why? why would you reject someone so perfect for you? does it have anything to do with him?

beomgyu can’t shake the feeling that your situation with soobin has something to do with him. he knows he’s being vain, he knows he’s being selfish, but he can’t help but hope. he doesn't tell anyone about this, though, for fear that reality will be much crueler than he can cope with. he tells himself he's perfectly content with living with said hope and deluding himself into thinking he still has a place in your heart, but he can't control the way his mind wanders to places he scarcely dares to dream of these days. dreams where you miss him, where you still think about him, where you forgive him play out in a number of ways, but in the end, they're nothing more than, well, dreams.

as much as some would like to avoid it, gathering for taehyun’s friendsgiving party is inevitable. no matter the circumstances, nobody can quite justify missing out on your friend group’s collective tradition. you try to steel yourself for the potentially awkward encounters with soobin and beomgyu, but you can’t help but worry about potential “what if’s”. still, you decide to be as mature as possible. if you see soobin, you'll make light conversation before excusing yourself if he seems uncomfortable. if you see beomgyu, well, hopefully he'll just ignore you as you've ignored him.

when you arrive at taehyun's, you greet everyone as usual. honestly, as awful as it sounds, you're pretty relieved to see that neither soobin nor beomgyu have arrived just yet. you drink just enough to take some of the edge off, so when soobin comes in, it's not an earth-shattering event. when he greets you, you're prepared to just leave it at a cordial, somewhat distant conversation, and he seems to be on the exact same page. he says hello and performs all of the necessary niceties before wandering off and getting himself a drink. it hurts your heart that this is what your friendship has been reduced to, but you know it's what's best at the moment. you don't want to unintentionally hurt him by insisting he push his limits by being with you.

you try to shove this out of your mind, and you're talking to yunjin about nothing in particular when beomgyu walks through the door. you can’t help but look up when he enters, but you will yourself to look away while plastering a smile on your face you already know isn’t believable in the slightest. mercifully, he doesn’t do anything other than wave at you and yunjin before getting lost in the hustle and bustle of the party.

you think the worst of the night is over, and you calmly go through the motions of your friendsgiving traditions as if everything is fine. after dinner, you find yourself sitting alone, wondering if you should just hang it up and go home a bit early. before you can do that, though, you notice soobin approaching your spot on the couch.

“hey,” he says a little unsteadily as he plops down next to you, no doubt a little tipsy from the drinks he’s had.

“hey,” you shyly reply with a smile.

“how are you?” he asks.

“i’m okay,” you answer, trying to maintain your composure. “what about you?”

“better,” he says before hesitantly continuing. “i miss you.” your heart soars, but it also somewhat aches.

“i miss you, too,” you tell him honestly. he smiles, albeit very softly.

“how are things with beomgyu?” he probes.

“as good as they’ll get, i guess.”

“so not very good, huh?”

“no, not very good,” you say truthfully.

“well, why don't you just cut the bullshit, then?” you're very clearly taken aback by his words. you're even actually offended that he could casually say such a thing.

“what are you talking about?” your tone is more defensive than bewildered, but he just looks at you with knowing eyes that make you feel microscopic.

“you know what i’m talking about,” he argues. “this whole fucked up charade that you two are performing isn’t fooling anybody, so why even try?”

“he doesn't deserve me,” you scoff. “he can't just treat me like shit and get away with it because he's sorry now. he needs to pay for what he's done.”

“and who are you punishing by doing that? him or yourself?” you're, again, surprised, so you don't quite know what to say in response.

“i know you. i know what you want, and denying that doesn't do anything but hurt the both of you. you might as well get what you want. maybe he doesn't deserve it — i'm not really sure, but don't you want to try, at least? with how desperate he’s been acting, i don’t think he’ll hurt you again.” you seriously ponder his words, but the main conclusion you come to is that soobin is still so, so kind. he had — or has — feelings for you, but he still wants to see you happy. you don’t have to say anything, though, because it seems like he understands how grateful you are just from your smile.

he pulls you in for a hug, one so warm and loving you can't help but melt into it. you could cry at how relieved you are that you two will soon overcome the awkwardness and distance. it seems he wasn't one of your best friends for nothing. when you two break apart, you look up at him with a watery smile. before you can say anything, though, you register the odd look on his face. you look confused for just a second before he says his next words in a hushed, hurried tone.

“i'm doing this for your own good,” he whispers as he leans down and catches your lips in a tender kiss. to say you're stunned is an understatement, indeed, but the kiss ends almost as quickly as it begins, leaving you reeling.

“w-why did you —”

“i said it was for your own good, but it was kind of for me, too,” he softly chuckles. “maybe i want to punish him a little bit.” you don't really understand what he means until you follow his gaze and catch beomgyu in his line of sight. oh, you get it now. who knew soobin was such a sadist?

your conversation with soobin ends and you feel a lot lighter than you have in a long, long time, but his words leave you with more than enough to think about. you shake your head and go out to the balcony to clear your head. after a few minutes, you hear the door behind you creak open. you know it's beomgyu before he even says anything.

“so, you and soobin, huh?” he questions softly as he settles next to you, leaning against the railing. you glance up at him to respond, but his mirthless smile stops you before you can say a word.

“i’m happy for you,” he adds as sincerely as he can, and you’re not sure you buy that, but at the very least, he seems to want you to believe it. you're not really sure how to respond. you don't even know if you want to explain everything to him, actually, because you're still debating on whether or not you should forgive him. can things really be that easy? does he deserve your forgiveness? who's to say he won't just break your heart again? as you struggle with how to answer, he continues.

“i'm, um, i'm glad you found somebody. especially soobin. he'll treat you right — you deserve it,” he says before timidly rambling. “s-sorry if i’m overstepping, i just wanted you to know that; and, uh, if you ever need anything, i'm here.”

“need anything? like what?” you can't help but wonder aloud. now, this is unlike the beomgyu you've come to know. if it were, then he'd be throwing a fit trying to get you to change your mind so you'd be with him instead of soobin.

“l-like, if you need advice or something,” he earnestly answers, somewhat surprised you said anything at all. “or if you just want to talk or complain or anything. whatever it is that you need, i’ll be here. i owe you that much after all you’ve done for me.” you look confused for a moment before you answer him.

“i didn’t do those things so you’d owe me, beomgyu,” you tell him, and his heart flutters against his will at the use of his name.

“i-i know, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. s-sorry. i just want you to know that there’s someone who wants to be there for you, especially since you were always there for me, but even if you weren’t, i would still want to be there for you,” he nervously replies.

“why?” you quietly ask, and that actually brings a wistful smile to his face.

“because i care about you,” he says, voice dripping with sincerity and solemnity. what he really wants to tell you is that it's because he loves you, but it's clear that it's the wrong time. he can't just dump his feelings onto you again — that would be wrong since you're obviously involved with someone now. if it were the old him, he'd do it with absolutely no regrets if it meant that you'd come back to him, but he can't do that to you. he can't just steamroll over your wants and feelings like he's always done.

“but why?” you question persistently. he never saw anything of value in you before, not outside of how he could use you, so what’s so great about you now? you just can’t understand it. his sincere smile turns wry, teeming with a sense of self-mockery as he whispers his next words.

“because you're amazing. you're everything anyone could ever want.” anything i could ever want. he doesn't have to say that last part, because you can already hear the meaning of his words. just because you can hear it, however, doesn't mean you understand it.

“i never thought you, of all people, would think that,” you say honestly.

“i know, but that's my fault, not yours,” he replies. you purse your lips in response, mulling over your options. you could just walk away right now and go back to ignoring beomgyu forever. it's what he deserves, you reason. he humiliated you in a way like none other, and nobody would blame you if you never let that go; but you look at how hard he's trying, and your heart softens. maybe you want to give it a try. maybe you'll get hurt again, but with how desperate he is, you really don't think so. still, you can’t let him get away with it so easily. you just have to make sure his feelings are pure.

“i know you still have feelings for me,” you say after a long pause, and his face reddens in shame, feeling like his ugly heart that he was desperately trying to conceal has been exposed. he supposes this is the way it should be, but he doesn't want to guilt you into anything, so he chooses to remain silent in his humiliation. “if it were like before, you would just tell me that. why is it different now?” you continue. well, that's it then. he should be truthful and say what he wants to say, and unbeknownst to him, what you want to hear.

“because your feelings should be more important than my own. that's what you do when you love somebody,” he chokes out. “you taught me that.”

you're quiet for a long, long time. too long, in fact. so long, he thinks it's time to call it quits and suppress his unrequited feelings for you until he feels them no longer. he can't imagine a world where he successfully does so, but for your sake, he should try. before he can say his goodbye, though, you speak again.

“okay,” you sigh.

“what?” he asks confusedly, eyebrows furrowed.

“i said, ‘okay’. don't make me regret this,” you tell him before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you. your lips softly meet each other and his eyes widen in sheer shock, though he doesn't resist you. his breath is labored when you finally part, eyes hazy with his lips red and swollen.

“w-what are you — i thought — why are you —”

“i'll give you one chance,” you interrupt. “if you fuck up, it's over. do you understand?” he takes a second to process your words — but it's just a second — and his eyes well up with relieved tears when he understands. he dumbly nods in agreement, too afraid that if he speaks, no intelligible noise will come out.

“good.” the corners of your mouth curl with a ghost of a smile, and you're prepared to leave it at that as you pull away from him; but like a dog, he earnestly chases after your touch before pulling you towards him, lips meeting yours again. the kiss is hungrier this time — more insistent, but he doesn't push his luck. eventually, he parts from you, leaving you both panting. his tears, which he was previously holding back, now flow from his eyes with no resistance.

“thank you,” he says gently.

“for what?” you ask, head a little clouded from the kiss, but he just shakes his head with a smile. you will never understand just how grateful he is for the mercy you’ve shown him, but he’ll try to show you how much it means to him.

things go slowly after that — you do your best to ensure that they do; and beomgyu, to his credit, tries to oblige. you’re not official or anything like that, but you let him take you on dates, and he’s always trying to woo you in one way or another. he sends flowers when you work, he shows up to your place with food and drinks, he texts you every morning asking how you’ve slept. it’s everything you could have ever asked for, and you can really see how hard he’s trying, but when kisses become heated, you always pull away before things can go any further. beomgyu tries his best not to show his dejection, but you always end up apologizing before he adamantly insists that he’s more than okay with it. you appreciate his understanding because every time you think about going any further, you can’t help but remember the indelible scar that his previous betrayal left upon you.

christmas parties at beomgyu’s, much like friendsgivings at taehyun’s, are a tradition within your friend group. now that the tension with soobin and (most of) the tension with beomgyu is no longer there, you find that you’re actually really excited to gather again. you have no intention of revealing the nature of your… circumstances with beomgyu to everyone, though, and beomgyu will never say it for fear of making you uncomfortable, but it makes his heart ache. he can't really blame you for not wanting to be tied to him, but that doesn't soothe the pain in his chest.

secret santa takes place without a hitch. that is, until you open up your gift, which is a necklace with a pendant of a silver sun, and it is revealed that soobin got it for you. it’s not the most expensive gift in the world, but it is uncommonly sentimental. many write it off as a pretty, but ultimately meaningless piece of jewelry, but beomgyu instinctively knows it’s because of how so much of you resembles the sun. how could he not understand? you’re warm and nurturing, but it’s unsettling to realize that you’re not his alone. he tries to tell himself that it's not the end of the world, but when soobin turns you around and gently clasps the necklace for you before smoothing out your hair, he can't help but feel like it is. that’s enough for him to excuse himself to his room, but you’re far too preoccupied with gushing over how much you love the gift to soobin to really notice.

when he enters his room, he sits on the edge of his bed, placing his head in his hands with a groan. he shouldn't be feeling like this. he has no right to feel like this. you had already taken the time to explain that you and soobin are just friends, and you stressed that he’ll have to be okay with that fact if he wants to be with you, to which he eagerly agreed; but he can't help but think that it's only a matter of time before you come to your senses and leave him to be with soobin for good.

you two aren't even technically official, and your hesitance to be classified as such to your closest friends only shows him just how much you want that to continue to be true. what if he's just a pit stop in yours and soobin's love story? that seems like the most likely outcome. he can just see it now, you and soobin laughingly recalling your tumultuous history to your future kids. is beomgyu being dramatic? probably, but that doesn't stop his mind from running wild. why would you choose to stay with him when soobin, who's been devoted to you since the beginning, is right there?

the door to his room opens, and he whips his head up in hopes that it's you coming back to him, so he can't hide his disappointment when he's greeted by chaewon’s figure shutting the door behind her before she plops down beside him. his mood turns even more sour than it already was when he sees her.

“if you're here to laugh at me for how pathetic i am, i don’t want to hear it,” he says bitingly. she’s quiet for a moment, as if she’s digesting his words, before she nods.

“you’re right, you are pathetic,” she deadpans. his temper flares, but before he can lash out, she continues. “you look stupid just sulking here because your little girlfriend got attention from another man.”

“h-how did you kn—”

“she may be subtle, but you definitely aren’t,” she snorts.

“oh,” he defeatedly replies with a laughably crestfallen look.

“doesn't feel good, does it? seeing the person you love with somebody else,” she asks snarkily. “it’s one of the worst feelings in the world, if you ask me.”

“and what the hell do you know about that?” he spits. chaewon is one of the most spiteful and bull-headed people he knows. he can't imagine her being too broken up about supposed unrequited love.

“because that's how i feel when i look at the both of you,” she says matter-of-factly, as if she didn't just drop the bomb of the century. he knew that she was attracted to him, obviously, but he never knew her feelings ran any deeper than that. he sputters as he looks at her, but she cuts him off.

“i know you didn't know about my feelings, for real this time. i guess i'm a better actress than her, or maybe you just never cared enough to find out. whatever it is, i know it's hopeless, so you don't have to tell me.”

“i'm sorry,” he murmurs, but she just shakes her head.

“thanks, but your apology just makes me feel worse,” she scoffs. “i don’t need or want the pity of the most pitiful person in the world.” her words are undeniably harsh, but he can register the amount of hurt in them.

“i'm still sorry,” he says. “i know how you feel, and i know it's really hard. i'm sorry for never noticing.” his sincerity makes her calloused heart soften.

“yeah, it's hard; but for what it's worth, i think she loves you, too,” she tells him.

“i really hope so,” he replies with a sardonic smile before it melts into something more genuine. “thank you for telling me about your feelings. i'm sorry that i don't feel the same way, but i hope you find somebody who does.”

“thank you,” she says, more sincerely this time. “friends?” with this, she extends her hand for him to shake. he smiles at her gesture as he complies.

“friends.” hesitantly, she pulls him into a hug. he’s stunned for a second before patting her back in reciprocation. he can’t love her, but he can learn to appreciate her, which he has never done, even with all of her help. maybe he’s becoming a better person because of you.

as if on cue, the door opens the moment that thought is fully formed. he’s relieved to see you for the split second before he realizes how this must look to you. he madly breaks away from her in a haste.

“it's not what it looks like!” he exclaims, and chaewon tactfully rises and scurries out of the door before shutting it behind her, but you remain silent and rooted to your spot.

“i swear! it's really not what it looks like,” he says pleadingly as he stands and grabs your hands, which you promptly smack away.

“i just fucking knew this would happen,” you spit. “i won't give it up to you, so you turn around and pull this shit — is that it?”

“n-no! seriously, we’re just friends! she told me that she had feelings for me, but i rejected her, and we said we would just be friends,” he desperately explains. “i swear to god i would never do that to y—” he wants to continue, but the way your shoulders shake as you put your head in your hands stops him in his tracks.

he hurriedly embraces you as he hears muffled cries escape your lips.

“i’m so sorry, please don’t cry. it wasn’t what it looked like, i promise,” he says as soothingly as he can muster, but that doesn't seem to stop your tears. he feels more and more helpless as you continue to break down in front of him, so he resorts to saying whatever he can think of to calm you down.

“i’m sorry, it’s all my fault. i never should’ve touched her. just don't cry, okay? i hate seeing you cry,” he whispers as he draws circles on your back, pressing you closer to him. after a while, your sobs die out and your breathing becomes more steady.

“a-are you okay?” he timidly probes. you stare at him with eyebrows furrowed for a bit before you slightly nod. he purses his lips before continuing.

“are you going to leave me?” he whispers, and he regrets asking as soon as the words leave his lips.

it's okay if you're only indulging him in this would-be relationship because you pity him. it's okay if he's just a pit stop in your love story with soobin. it's okay if he turns out to be nothing more than a momentary distraction from the actual love of your life, just as long as you stay with him for as long as you can stand it. why would he question his place in your life? why would he ruin a good thing by making you tell him to his face that you don't want him? he should've just waited for you to figure it out on your own instead of forcing you to confront the true nature of your feelings for him.

when he’s met with nothing but your pensive silence, he speaks again.

“i-i’m sorry i asked. i, um, i understand,” he adds defeatedly.

“no,” you croak.

“n-no? what do you mean by —”

“no, i won’t leave you,” you declare, a little bit more confidently this time.

“you won’t?” he asks doubtfully, taken aback by this sentiment.

“do you want me to?”

“no! i-i just can’t believe it. why would you stay with me?”

“because i think you love me. do you?”

“of course!” he exclaims.

“then will you show me? how much you love me, i mean?” you ask.

“h-how do you mean?”

you look up at him and pull him by his collar so his lips meet yours, and his eyes widen before he melts into the kiss. he feels like he’s floating as you move your lips against his, but he groans when you softly tug his hair, which allows you to snake your tongue into his welcoming mouth. that’s enough to replace the floating feeling with one of pure need. when you part, you're both gasping for air.

“are you sure?” he seemed so lost in the feeling before, but he looks nothing short of timid right now, endearing you in a way you previously thought was impossible.

“yes.”

he gulps and guides you to his bed, firmly gripping your hand as if he’ll lose you if he doesn’t hold onto you. carefully, reverently, he begins to undress you, making sure not to be too rough, juxtaposing how crass he was the first (and last) time you two did this. when you’re fully undressed, he shamelessly takes the view of you in. you subconsciously feel embarrassed and start to cover yourself, and he gently, but firmly, takes your arms and pulls them away from your shivering frame.

“don’t hide from me. you’re beautiful,” he whispers, before ducking down and pulling you in for a heated kiss. it’s still gentle, but there’s more fire behind it than usual. eventually, he breaks away and quickly rids himself of his clothes, contrasting greatly with the tenderness he showed you as he took yours off. when he’s finished, he kisses you again. this time, though, he doesn’t just stop at your lips, and he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck before he pushes you down onto the bed and finds his way down to your aching pussy.

he plants kisses on your open thighs until your legs are trembling and your core is glistening with anticipation. greedily, he takes one experimental, flat-tongued lick from your pussy and groans at your taste. he starts slowly — licking stripes until his movements become a series of alternating between this and more focused licks to your folds and clit. eventually, he takes one of his fingers and prods at your weeping hole before pushing it in to the knuckle. he curls and teases until he finds your sweet spot with little effort.

“o-oh,” you sigh, but before you can get used to the feeling, he slides another finger in and repeats his movements, softly sucking on your clit as he does it. beomgyu tries to show restraint, he really does, but you taste so good that before long, he’s practically hammering his fingers into you while he licks and sucks on your lower lips. you’re no match for his skilled tongue, so you’re falling apart more quickly than you’d like to admit. you hold onto his hair for dear life, tugging a little harder than you probably should, but you’re in no state to control your harshness as you reach the end.

“gyu, i’m gonna — oh, shit — i’m coming! i’m coming!” you cry as your legs buckle, tightening around his head against your will. he doesn’t pull away, however; he just lets you cage him in between your thighs as if he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. as you come down, he laps up your cum and removes his fingers to directly stick his tongue in your clenching hole. you think you might have to pull him off of you due to overstimulation, but he (reluctantly) does it himself before you can quite get there.

he makes no move to clean himself up, and his expression is one of pure bliss, as if you were the one who just gave him the best oral of his life and not the other way around. he pulls you in for a heavy kiss, and you taste yourself along with the sweetness that is beomgyu. he tries to be patient, but he can't help but frantically line himself up with your entrance, poking and prodding his tip against your still-spasming hole as he takes one of your hands into his own while using the other to guide himself into you.

“is this okay?” he nervously asks. you nod. with a strained breath, he slowly begins to push into you.

it's a struggle to push himself in, meeting resistance as you clench around him, pussy trying desperately to accommodate his length. your hand tightly grips his as you feel the almost unbearable stretch, and he soothingly caresses his thumb over your finger, shuddering as you take him in inch by inch. it feels even better than the first time, somehow — you're even warmer and wetter than before. with labored breaths, he tries to keep himself from coming early as he feels you contracting around him. when he’s finally completely sheathed in you, it's like puzzle pieces fitting together; things seem more right than they have since, well, the last time you two did this. you stay like that for what must be a long time — just feeling each other in an act of pure intimacy as you both heave out labored breaths.

“are you ready?” he whispers, and after a few seconds, you nod. he shakily pulls out, feeling your pussy struggling to keep him in, and takes a deep breath before piercing you in one fluid motion, scraping against your g-spot with ease. you whimper at the sensation as he pulls himself out before ramming back in again.

“relax, baby. i know you can take me. you were made for me,” he says soothingly as he sets his pace. he tries to take things slowly, but it’s difficult when it feels like you’re sucking him in with every thrust. his words comfort you, and before long, you're melting into his touch.

“so good,” he groans as he repeatedly hits your cervix. “you’re so fucking perfect.” all you can do is moan in response, feeling so detached from reality that the only thing chaining you to it is the way he’s fucking you. your grip on his hand tightens until you’re sure his fingers are numb, but he makes no move to stop you. he even leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, which was meant to be mostly innocent, but it quickly devolves into your tongues and teeth clashing against each other as he snaps his hips into yours. you feel more than full as he stretches you out and pounds into you so deeply, you feel him in your stomach. you can only be described as lightheaded as he hits the deepest parts of you relentlessly, and you feel yourself getting closer to your climax — causing you to let out an animalistic whine.

“shh, baby. i’ve got you. just let go, okay?” you have no choice but to oblige when he continues drilling into you. you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. it's only a few moments before your eyes are rolling backwards as you mercilessly clamp down around him. the feeling of you tightening on his length pushes him to his own end, and he moans out “oh, g-god, i love you,” while he spills himself into you, shuddering as he does it. you feel his hot cum flooding your insides, eventually leaking out of your aching cunt as he slowly thrusts it into you. you stay like that, just joined together, for a long while.

with reluctance, he pulls out of you. you're both silent as he collapses on top of you and mindlessly toys with your hair.

“i love you, too,” you whisper.

“w-what?” he shoots up and stares at you in disbelief, scanning your face in earnest.

“you heard me,” you reply.

“can you — can you say it again? please?” your purse your lips before responding.

“i love you, too.”

he doesn't mean for them to, but his eyes well up with tears. he grabs you and flips you on top of him before locking his arms around you. your head rests comfortably against his chest as he pulls you closer and closer, nuzzling his cheek onto the top of your head.

“i can't believe this is real,” he whispers between his tears, and you can't stop yourself from smiling at the sheer amount of awe in his tone. “i'll be so good to you, you won't believe it.”

“okay,” you chuckle, in spite of yourself. what can you do other than believe him when he's so damn desperate?

notes pt. 2: finishing this has most certainly been an uphill battle. i was writing like a few sentences a day for the longest time. still, i hope you all enjoyed this. i love you very much, my friends. also, please let me know what you thought about it (as long as it's not mean!)

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permanent (sfw/[n]sfw): @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @midwinterblizzard @everythingvirgoes @sooberryworld @20-cms @inkigayocamman @hyueika @boba-beom @vicurious28 @blossommi @lickingan0rchid @katsukis1wife @binniebakery @notevenheretbh1 @shymexican @that1sadgrl @archoive @paegesoobin @buttercreamerie @ifwtxt @softesyoongi @serenityism00 @fairfootedflekk @kyanmeai @definitelynotherr @hyunj00 @taehyunluvrs @m00gyu @denleave1088 @hwanghyunjinismybae @bmo-bri

for the hope of it all: @calssunflower @wildernessuntothemselves @pluslandminun @enhasrii @vixensss @pagetammgyu @tyongluvs @aduh0308 @11thenightwemet11

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azdesertwillow · 7 hours ago

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Minrathous versus Treviso

I keep seeing posts from both sides of this about how it feels like it's unfairly stacked, particularly in terms of how your companions react to this choice.

But here's the thing, the choices are not a 1:1 parallel so it makes sense that the consequences are not a 1:1 split between Neve or Lucanis.

If you choose to not save Minrathous, the consequences are more intimate. The biggest hit, from a game play perspective while not factoring in companions reactions, is which merchant you have available to you. In the short time I had them during my first playthrough, I was far more attached to the Shadow Dragon's shop keep and her look-out than I ever got in the entirety of my Crows playthrough. You get to hear her story of how she survived the Fifth Blight. And she's not the only backstory you get like this. Much of the early game play in Minrathous is meeting individuals, Neve's contacts, her friends, past clients. It's a person to person connection.

But when you don't come to save them, the Shadow Dragons as an organization are dead. The Viper is blighted, those individuals you've met are either dead, dying, or have gone to ground. I teared up when I found out the merchant's fate. Neve's says her apartment is gone. The Threads move in. Mass hanging. But for the city itself, while it certainly needs restoration and repair, the core of the crisis affecting it is that it's now, essentially, under Venatori occupation, something that Treviso has already been dealing with. There is Blight, and it for sure affects the poor disproportionately, but it's not a universal constant for everyone.

Whereas, if you choose not to save Treviso, it doesn't feel as if you take as big of a hit in terms of beloved NPC's. Viago, Teia, Jacobus are all still alive and as I said, I personally never felt a strong connection to the Crows merchant. And as an organization, the Crows will survive this. Treviso is but one branch of the Crows and they'll recover from this. The intimate, person to person connections loss doesn't feel as large in terms of how they effect your story beats.

But Treviso is dead. They blighted the water of a city that's mainly on water. This will hit everyone, regardless of their station. Lucanis even says about the parts that are sinking into the water that in a few years, it might be completely gone or be a brand new expensive villa, you can never tell with Treviso. This is a case of a city full of the walking dead who just haven't fallen over yet. The health and mortality rate will plummet. The birth rate will plummet. They were used to occupation, but how do you fight an occupation within your own body?

Now, in terms of your companions reactions, I'm not factoring in the long term outcomes of the cities post-game or even mid-game as you work to help them. This is just to look at their immediate reactions and the game play mechanics as a result of this decision branch.

To me it makes sense that you get locked out of Lucanis' romance and not Neve's because of the long term realities they are facing. What is directly affecting Neve is raw grief. Those were the people she knew and they're gone now. But ultimately, she knows that those deaths are not on your hands and while it takes a while before she can trust you again, she heals from the grief and pain from the loss of life. Versus Lucanis who just sees the long branching consequences of what has happened to Treviso and knows that he warned you. He warned you that Antiva had no standing military and now his city is dead. And this isn't even factoring in all his personal stuff which canonically he tries to keep you away from him if you do fully romance him. The loss of his city is just the last straw needed to fully shut him down. There's just too much to deal with.

(As for Neve/Lucanis, I think that choice plays more into Lucanis' personal hang ups rather than the Minrathous vs. Treviso choice and this post is very specifically about the cities, not Lucanis' issues).

Now, it's fine if you wish to have that perfect 1:1 consequences comparison when choosing between one or the other. I personally don't like that approach when it comes to things like this because it feels like the writers didn't put deep thought into how this would affect the characters and instead were looking at just how to make it match perfectly and hand wave any characterization that doesn't fit their game mechanics.

But it is my personal option that I think it's unfair to say that it feels like a bug or lazy writing or unfinished when to me it feels like the opposite. It feels like they actually looked at the characters, looked at the big picture, and put thought into how this would play out, even if it meant it might tip one way or another. That's a sign of writing staying true to the characters rather than cave in the name of game mechanics.

#da4 #da4 spoilers #lucanis dellamorte #neve gallus #dragon age the veilguard #veilguard spoilers #da: the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #da spoilers #da veilguard #treviso #minrathous #dragon age #datv #datv spoilers #shadow dragons #antivan crows #Sara you better not be looking until you get to this point in the game...

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 4 hours ago

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Ways I can think of that “DanDaDan” differs from other shonen series:

* Female MC is as important as male MC

* Canon romance gets consistent development through the series. I think that’s part of the reason why the MC ships with the rivals (Aira, Jiji) aren’t as popular with the fandom for once. The main ship is actually getting good development, so the fanbase doesn’t have to make up headcanons to fill in the space.

* Flips the found family trope on its head by having the main group despise new people whenever they show up and they even actively try to kick them out. The new people only end up staying because they keep lingering around to the point that the main group just gives up and lets them stay.

* The rivals aren’t emo or angst-ridden. Aira is a delusional tryhard popular girl while Jiji is a himbo drama queen. I’d even go as far to say that the MCs are the ones who are emo and angst-ridden.

* Supporting cast is more than just important, they become integral to the story. I’d say that the further you read into DanDaDan, the more it becomes an ensemble cast where everyone is a protagonist in their own right.

* World-building is all over the place, but in a good way. Most other shonen are pretty consistent with what kind of world their characters live in. MHA is superhero-based, Naruto is ninjas and magic, Bleach is spirits, and so on. DanDaDan feels like the author just throws whatever cool shit they can think of into the story. That’s actually the reason why I wrote in a different post that DanDaDan reminds me more of Marvel/DC than any other shonen series, it manages to capture the catch-all insanity of those comics.

* Doesn’t rely on hidden power-ups. The main characters either have to outsmart the villains or they have to train to get better with the powers they already have.

* The pervert comic relief guy is actually endearing for once. Not because of his pervert tendencies, but because he’s so oblivious to how socially inept he is that it’s kind of funny. This is gonna sound strange, but he sorta reminds me of Thor in Thor Ragnarok. Full of himself and oblivious to how dumb he can be. He’s Thor without the good looks lol.

* Flips the “nerdy outcast loser somehow gets a harem” trope. Instead of making Okarun cooler than how he actually is, the story emphasizes that the women who fall for Okarun are as weird as him. Momo is a weird outcast, Aira has main character syndrome, Vamola doesn’t understand how to human because she’s literally not one, Rin thought Okarun was a vampire (and wanted him to be).

* Flips the “elderly figure in charge of the teenagers” trope. I don’t really get motherly figure vibes from Seiko Ayase, I get more “cool wine aunt who is stuck with her niece” vibes. In fact, there was the arc where Okarun showed up to her in spirit mode to get her help with fighting off the alien invasion and Seiko’s response was, “Well, I’m not in the area and I have other shit to do, so you kids figure it out.”

* The series takes the piss out of the trope of mystical/magical items that the group acquired to get their powers. I mean…the main mystical MacGuffin in the series are Okarun’s balls.

* Okarun was about to go into an “I’m weak / I wish I was stronger / I want to get stronger for my friends” breakdown, but Turbo Granny told him to shut up and keep fighting.

* Not afraid to put the “cool girl” in as many funny situations as possible. Off the top of my head, the series built up Momo as this cool, tough girl who doesn’t take shit from anyone…then several chapters later, Okarun found out she got a job at a maid cafe.

(Feel free to add to the list!)

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natsuslover · 10 hours ago

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☆.｡.:* gojo bf headcanons

notes— i think… i miss my wife :’( (it’s gojover i’m writing this to cope)

ft. satoru gojo

warnings: none really js some mentions of sexual things but nondescriptive (very fluffy for the most part)

first and foremost i feel like a common mischaracterization has to be cleared up… bro is NOT a womanizer lmfaooo

in fact he’s prob a virgin like it would take a lot for him to be sexually vulnerable like that

now that that’s been said-

he’s basically ur best friend

like yes he loves u and yes ur his s/o but he can also be so so annoying at times

rich asf so he’s always spoiling u

and he doesn’t even do it on purpose

for example he’ll be shopping for himself in luxury brand stores (bros a diva) but then he sees something u would like and js buys it bc why tf not

he never expects anything in return

def the whiny brat in the relationship

kind of a red flag but he LOOOVES starting meaningless arguments for funsies

also loves complaining abt anything and everything to u

and whenever he learns a new piece of gossip you’ll be the first to know fs

100% NOT afflicted by nonchalant dreadhead disease

like he THINKS he’s being all nonchalant and shit but in reality he’s the most chalant person ever

his favorite type of date is going out to eat

whether it’s a fancy restaurant or stalls on the street he loves eating and he loves watching u enjoy ur food too

it would be ironic to say his love language is physical touch but for those he feels close to he likes when they’re physically close as well

bear hugs = his favorite form of affection

likes watching movies w u but not romance movies (he thinks they’re cheesy and unrealistic)

he’ll watch spiderman w u over and over again tho and to this day cries abt how mj doesn’t remember peter

loves playing mario kart w u

beats u every single time and brags about it

doesn’t really like TOO much pda

like he’ll hold ur hand, put his arm around u, hug u, etc. in public but that’s pretty much the extent

but in private it’s a different story…

good luck getting this man to detach his 6’3 body from u

his infinity is off almost 24/7 when it’s just the two of u

likes taking random pictures of u when ur caught off guard so he can tease u later

he’s a menace in the kitchen but when ur cooking and u need a taste tester he always volunteers

he got u a “kiss the cook” apron for ur birthday once and now just uses it as an excuse to kiss u randomly whenever u wear it

brags about u to his students like all the time and they get annoyed

“gojo sensei ur supposed to be solving the math problem on the board-”

“oh! y/n is SOO good at math! i mean just yesterday she told me-”

“GOJO SENSEI!!”

has a big ass sweet tooth that ends up rubbing off on u

his phone lock screen is definitely some cursed image of u and every time someone asks who he’s dating he just pulls out his phone and they’re like “oh… 😀”

his love for u is very obvious bc he’s always giving u “the look” when ur not looking according to other ppl

i’m ngl tho sometimes u wake up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and see this dudes bright blue glowing orbs staring right at u and it freaks u tf out

sassy bf apocalypse in a nutshell

#anime #manga #jjk #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk anime #jjk fluff #satoru gojo #satoru gojo headcanons #gojo saturo #gojo x reader

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reysdriver · 1 day ago

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okay, just thinking about some celebrity daring to hit on sirius and he's like "bitch??" and then immediately runs to tattoo reader's name (VERY BIG) on the left side of his chest, right over his heart! and since he takes off his shirt at every show, everyone can enjoy the view (reader is also taken by surprise, she gets very horny if you ask me

Sirius shows the world where his passion lies — rockstar!sirius x reader fluff

warnings: allusions to sex, very suggestive

words: 1k

a/n: I love this request so much omggg that is such a Sirius thing to do (I could see James doing it too actually) but it's just PERFECT. I did change it a bit by making reader know about it beforehand but I hope it's still good! Also horny part 2 maybe... idk yet

You came back to the hotel room with coffee in your hand, a bag of pastries in your purse, and a tabloid magazine under your arm.

With The Marauders on tour, you’ve been living out of suitcases with your boyfriend and your friends for the last couple weeks. You’ve all been sharing sleep schedules with wolves, staying up until dawn and sleeping later than everyone else in whatever city you were staying in.

That’s precisely why you left to grab breakfast at eleven in the morning and Sirius was still fast asleep.

By the time you got back, you walked in to find Sirius wide awake, but still in bed, tangled in the bedsheets.

“Good morning, love.” Sirius said, shirtless with one hand behind his head.

“It was a good morning.” You teased, tossing him the magazine. “Then I saw you in the news.”

“Me?” He feigned surprise. It wasn’t at all uncommon for Sirius to be in the news or the tabloids, but it was usually for something he did, not some pop princess who writes songs you get tired of after two listens.

Sirius sat up and scanned the front page, curious as to what was going on.

Mary Macdonald makes her move on rock star Sirius Black; New musical romance in the works?

The caption was sitting atop a picture of the popstar in question onstage at a concert, her crop top showing off a fake tattoo on her abdomen with text reading Reserved 4 Sirius Black alongside an arrow pointed down.

“Oh, come on.” Sirius laughed, throwing the paper to the end of the bed. “This is what got you all bothered?”

You set your purse down and brought the coffee and pastries over to your boyfriend.

“Yes, so bothered I almost didn’t buy you a coffee. Be happy I did, though.”

“Of course I’m happy. I love you, doll.”

Sirius lifted the sheets and held out a hand to beckon you into the bed with him. You obey reluctantly, putting on a dramatic pout as you crawled in with your boyfriend and straddled his lap.

“You know you’re the only one for me, right?” He whispered, hands tracing along your hips.

You combed your fingers through his perfect hair, a frown on your face.

“Tell that to the singer-songwriter superstar announcing to the world that you’re the only person she wants between her legs.”

Sirius smiled in a way that made it painfully obvious he had something stupid to say. “Love, there are millions of people who feel that exact way about me. Including you, I would hope.”

Damn, this man was exhausting. And of course you loved him for it.

You rolled your eyes and tried to get out of the hotel bed, though your attempt was foiled by Sirius holding you back.

You let him get his way, but gave him an unimpressed look that did not match his badly-stifled grin.

“I’ll take care of it, alright?” He said, not elaborating at all.

You shook your head, hoping he would say more about whatever PR stunt he had in mind.

“Siri, what are you gonna do?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Sirius said softly. He took your hand in his and slid your palm gently across his bare chest. “I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.”

✦✧✦✧✦

The next concert the band had was a few days after you first saw that magazine. You stood in the wings of the concert stage, just before the show started.

All the other band members had gone onto the stage and started setting up their instruments and playing the long intro to the opening song; it was just Sirius left, saying goodbye to you before he started performing and you made your way to the VIP section.

“You’re gonna do great, Siri.” You told him sincerely.

He winked at you, cocky as ever.

“I always do.”

Sirius then softened and masked your tone. He held your upper arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll let them all know I’m yours, and only yours.”

“They’re gonna go crazy.” You smiled.

“Damn right, they will. I’ll see you out there.”

Sirius gave your ass a playful smack before jogging out to the stage before he missed his cue, so you went down to your reserved space in the audience to see the band play from the best angle.

The audience lost their minds when Sirius ran onto the stage, per usual, screaming and shouting when all he’s done so far was enter.

But once Sirius started singing, the crowd noticed something off about the performance—Sirius was wearing a whole shirt for the first time throughout this tour. None of the band acknowledged it, of course; they were too busy playing music to be worried about what Sirius was wearing tonight.

Once the song finished, Sirius took a moment to say hello to the audience. After all the routine talking points—you know, your ‘how’s everybody doing?’ and whatnot—Sirius found it was the right time to say what he wanted to say.

“I saw a magazine cover the other day, with my name on it.” He started. “And not for the usual reasons. Mary Macdonald, I think it was…”

Many audience members went wild at the mention of her name, either because they were fans of her music, or they knew exactly what headlines Sirius was referring to.

“That was definitely an odd thing to wake up and see. But I’ve thought about it because it’s been everywhere, and I just have one thing to say about that.”

Instead of responding verbally, Sirius pulled off his black tank top with a smooth, swift motion, revealing his newest tattoo.

Your name was printed loud and clear on his chest, right over his heart. He got it done the day the Mary Macdonald pictures came out, and he was ecstatic to show it off to the world.

It caused quite a reaction, but you weren’t listening to the audience to know what they were even thinking. All you cared about was Sirius up on that stage, blowing you a kiss as The Marauders started to play the next song.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #rockstar!sirius #rockstar!sirius black #rockstar!marauders #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders fluff #xena's requests

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jaime-has-shifted · 2 days ago

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Omg omg ok: I‘m not gonna say his name cause for some reason that feels too personal but I LOVE HIMMMM. He has curly hair and dark eyes and he is a bit taller than me and he looks kinda intimidating but he so isn’t. He‘s actually the sweetest like he has such a beautiful soul. And he’s really funny but in an awkward sort of way and it’s so cute everytime he makes one of his dumb joke even if it wasnt funny I still giggle like crazy BECAUSE HE IS SO SWEET. He really listens to what I have to say, and thats hard to do sometimes since I‘m a yapper first and foremost, like one time before we dated I was showing him my perfume collection and was going through one of the discovery sets I have and while talking about every scent I held one up that has a very strong natural watermelon scent as a top note and I said something along the lines of ‚this smells like a summer romance, like imagine you’re single and at a beach bar and this guy offers you a drink.. I wouldn’t say no.. i think id say yes, enthusiastically“ next day he shows up smelling like that perfume… i mean i didnt mind the cologne he used before that but that was just.. so cute, like babe i literally traveled the multiverse for our, you dont need to try to impress me.

Our relationship is the literal embodiment of: „you‘re a part time lover and a full time friend“

If I‘d have to describe his vibe: he is the Color of sand at a beach when the evening sun hits, he’s like walking through an aquarium just to see the jellyfish, a wildflower field on a foggy spring morning, the nostalgia of playing an old video game and it still hitting the same way it used to, fresh cold orange juice on a hot day, the way blue and orange look together,,, he’s just sugar spice and everything nice tbh

I need someone to yap about their s/o

#love him love him sooo much #shiftingrealities #shifting community #shiftblr #shifting blog #shiftinconsciousness #reality shifting #shifters #shifting antis dni #shifting diary #loablr #manifesting #pure consciousness #void state #4d reality #scripting #Waiting room

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imfoive · 10 hours ago

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Crystal Bird - Chapter 9

Crown Prince! Chan x Princess (fem.) Genre: Royal au! Angst, Romance, Historical, hidden identity, slow-burn Warnings: mentions of war, assassination, somewhat proofread WC: 5.3k A/N: Oh nooooo,my angst, it fell :( Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The Crown Prince is saved by the Princess of a rival kingdom, and he swears his second life to his savior. A forbidden friendship no one knew of, grows deeper with every secret meeting. As the two are kept apart, memories of their sunset playdates by the serene river, begin blossoming into something beautiful. Cheeks blushed, stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of each other. Years of yearning and imagining had only made them crave a sweeter reunion. And finally meeting at a Royal banquet, he could only stare at the now grown Princess, taken by her beauty, while she only watches as he gives his heart to the wrong princess.

Missed a chapter? - Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8 ───────────────────

The last time the Elysium Princess was supposed to meet her childhood friend, the day he had promised to join her in the Grand Forest all those years ago, had also been filled with thunderous rain.

As the young version of herself waited for him, the young boy from Nightshade, who ultimately failed to show up, Y/N had felt a surge of sadness wash over her.

An ache in her chest.

Yet here she was now. Amidst the downpour, feeling that same ache. That same surge of sadness coursing through her once again.

This time, it clenched her heart, tightening with every beat, leaving her mind spinning.

The Nightshade Prince’s lips moved against hers, his kiss urgent, desperate, deep. His fingers cradled her jaw, pulling her closer, as if he needed her to be part of him.

She could have let herself drown in it, let herself fall deeper into the press of his lips over hers, lose herself in his arms, his mouth. But then she felt the cold, pointed jewel pressing against her palm, the one she’d grasped unknowingly in her frantic motions. Squeezing it tightly in her grip.

The crystal bird, once light as air in her hands, now felt like a weight. The sharp edges poking deep into her flesh. A prick that was enough to suddenly ground her. Reminding her of who she was.

Her heart raced for an entirely new reason, as reality crashed back in.

With a sharp inhale, her eyes snapped open. Her form recoiled from him instantly, stepping back and stumbling to steady herself against the hedges. Her breath came in short gasps as she stared at Chris with wide, shocked eyes.

Chris, equally stunned by the abrupt retreat, by the untangling of their embrace, stood frozen. His gaze met hers, wide-eyed, as he realized, with growing disbelief, that this was not a dream.

That he had in fact, kissed her.

Pulled her close. Tasted her lips like he had imagined over and over again.

“Pr-princess…” He whispered, his voice trailing off.

But silence fell between them, his mind suddenly clouded by a thousand conflicting thoughts.

Y/N’s eyes welled with tears again, her gaze dropping to the crystal pendant that peeked from beneath his clothing. The azure hue of the bird gleamed brightly even in the dim light of the dreary night.

Such a beautiful thing that brought her nothing but tears.

Chris noticed, his eyes following the direction of her gaze until they settled on the precious thing.

And suddenly his mind went blank.

Another jolt up thunder roared through the sky, making her slightly flinch, the rain, her emotions, making her tremble.

“Sienna…” Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it rang louder than the crack of thunder surrounding them.

It was as if she had read his mind. As if she could see the swirling of his conflicted emotions written in his rigid form.

That upon seeing this bird he had to remind himself once again, that he loved another.

He should love another.

Sienna, his princess.

His heart hammered in his chest, his gaze fixed on the pendant before trailing back to the second princess. The one he had kissed, who he still wanted to kiss again and again.

The one who made him feel things he couldn’t understand. Things he shouldn’t feel to begin with.

The one who wasn’t Sienna.

Yet, perhaps she was the one he loved.

“It belonged to Sienna. A birthday gift that she had… lost in the Grand Forest.” Y/N confessed, eyes still fixed on the bird that mocked her with its existence.

“Princess I—”

“You’ve given your heart to her, haven’t you?”

The question felt like a punch in her own gut.

She knew it was low of her.

To ask him this question when she was possibly one of the biggest reasons behind his misunderstandings.

Yet seeing him wear the necklace that had once hung around Sienna’s neck made her heart pound painfully against her chest. A bitter taste spread across her tongue, intensifying with every passing moment.

Her mind flashed back to the night of the banquet. Back to his eyes, soft and adoring as they lingered on Sienna, while she stood right there.

He should have recognized her. Even if he couldn’t.

He should have.

She already knew his answer would disappoint her. That it would hurt her. But she refused to admit it, refused to face the truth that hung between them.

Everyone saw the person they loved as the most beautiful in the world. Chan had done the same.

His eyes had always been drawn to Sienna, the woman who, to Y/N, was the prettiest woman she knew. Her older sister, the first princess.

The original owner of the Crystal Bird.

“I must love Sienna.” Chris’ words cut through the heavy silence, breaking Y/N from her trance.

She stared at him, her expression widening in a mix of confusion and something else as she processed whatever he just said. Unsure of what that meant.

The Warrior Prince’s face twisted in conflict, his expression torn as his eyes flicked down, between the crystal pendant and the second princess standing before him again.

“She—” He hesitated, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to explain the bond he shared with his princess without revealing the childhood secrets that they shared.

But seeing Y/N, shivering and drenched, just an arm’s reach away from him, his heart urged him to speak. To say anything that might erase the hurt from her face, tell her everything about those clandestine meetings by the river.

“She’s... my savior. My friend. Once upon a time. I-I owe her my life.” The words came easily, tumbling from his lips, yet they made sense to him.

His words were true, the most honest he had ever been ever since he had come here. An explanation made with all the best words he could find.

A childhood friend who he had spent his entire formative years dreaming of, the memories of the girl that saved him. The one he made promises to.

But as the weight of his words settled in the thick silence, so did the tension. The only sound was the relentless patter of rain, growing louder, drowning out everything else in the dark of the night.

Y/N’s brows softened as she took in his confession. She dropped her head, eyes falling to the ground as she stared at her feet, her mud-streaked dress clinging to her legs, weighing her down. Her eyes relaxing at the sight, coming to her own conclusions.

Chan must love her because she saved him.

Yet here he was, kissing some other woman because he didn’t truly love his savior.

Her brows furrowed, the thoughts rushing through her one after another.

Then…would he have simply loved her too just because she was his savior? His childhood friend?

A duty? A debt he must repay?

Her mind was reeling, from everything she had overheard back in the library. From the painful ache in her chest, from Chan’s looming presence that she craved but hated being in.

From those kisses.

The love stories she had once imagined with Chan, stories she had dreamt of for years, shattered with a resounding crash in her ears. The sound was deafening, impossible to ignore.

The Second Princess bit her bottom lip, holding back the tears that pricked at her eyes.

She inhaled.

“Princess Sienna does not love you.” Her words were sharp, breaking a silence that made him stare at her with raised brows.

“Princess Sienna is not your savior. And she does not remember—” Her gaze trailed up from the ground to settle on the crystal bird that rested against his chest.

“...She does not remember ever owning that trinket. It had been a forgotten thing long ago.” Her voice wavered with a bitter edge.

There was disdain in her tone, aware that her words were cutting him deep. That she should say something, anything to soothe that shocked expression on his face, the uneasiness that perhaps gripped at his heart.

That she should finally, finally tell him the truth.

“Sienna is not your friend.” It was a truth, but it wasn’t.

It was the shattering of this man’s hopes.

Which she could see as he inhaled silently, absorbing in her words. The venom in her tone, muffled by the loud thunder and rain.

“Princess…”

“You shouldn’t be out here—Neither of us should be here.” Y/N’s tone hardened as she glanced around at the their dark surroundings, controlling her emotions.

That expression, those scowls that had forever been an image the Warrior Prince had tied with her, was drawn on her face. A return of that persona of the Second Princess of Elysium, a role she was exceptional at falling into.

Y/N shifted her gaze away from him, taking a step further away, her back brushing against the tall hedges of this maze-like garden. As if distancing herself from the scene they had just created. Like she had the first night they stood in the shadows of this very garden.

“I advise you to return to your chambers. Tonight—” Her voice faltered at the glimpse of his eyes boring into hers, but she quickly regained control, her breath catching in her throat.

“Tonight did not happen.” Her words were final.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Y/N gripped the sides of her dress, her fingers balling the fabric into her fists, the wetness of her clothes clinging to her skin, her emotions threatening to spill. She forced herself to curtsy, her movements stiff almost in the damp, mud-streaked dress.

Chris took a step forward, his hand reaching out but faltering in the air.

“No, Y/N listen—”

“Prince Christopher. Please allow me to return.” She was afraid to lift her bowed head, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort to keep her composure, heart breaking with every word.

Once again the Warrior Prince inhaled, his eyes suddenly raking over her trembling figure, the rain further drenching her with every drop. Suddenly he realized she must be freezing, that she was still recovering and being out here in the rain was not the best for her in such a condition. Yet, he had kept her here, with his pull, with his kiss.

His arm dropped to his side.

“Please return safely, Princess.” His voice softened, the words laced with a quiet, aching sorrow.

And without another word, Y/N turned and fled, moving swiftly through the garden, refusing to look back. Her footsteps were hurried, as though she were escaping not just the rain, but the weight of everything that had just been said, everything that had just unfolded. Attempting to escape a night that had finally lifted that veil in front of her eyes, one she tried so hard to keep in place.

She ran from her, once Chan.

The Nightshade Crown Prince stared at her retreating figure, the pale yellow of her dress disappearing from his sight. Suddenly there was bitterness in his mouth. From anger, from regret.

From hurt.

He inhaled, feeling the looming presence just outside the hedges.

“Minho.”

The Midnight Leader, hidden in the shadows, had been silently watching from a distance. He appeared at Chris’ side almost instantly, his presence quiet, but ever watchful.

“Make sure she returns without being seen.” Chris ordered, his tone low but firm, his eyes never leaving the fading figure of Y/N.

Minho hesitated, a flicker of doubt in his gaze. A quietness that his master was easily able to read.

“You shouldn’t have told me about her if you didn’t plan on getting involved.” Chris’ voice hardened, a command that left no room for argument.

Minho dropped his gaze, his expression unreadable.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

And with that, the shadow warrior vanished into the night, as his prince stood there, still staring into the empty garden. Heart suddenly heavier than it was, much conflicted than he had ever been.

Chris couldn’t make sense of what had just transpired. He was here, yes, but the choices he had made, the actions he had taken, left him bewildered. Left him mortified.

He could still picture Y/N’s face, twisted in pain as she cried, her sobs cutting through the air like daggers. That image haunted him, part of him wanting to fix whatever had caused her to run out here in tears, another part of him afraid she was hurt.

But then, the kiss. The way her warmth had pressed into him, how desperately he had craved it. He couldn’t shake the feeling of her so close, so real against him.

Instinctively, his hand closed around the crystal bird hanging from his neck, the cool stone grounding him like it always had whenever his thoughts threatened to overwhelm him.

Still, even as he held it, he groaned in frustration. The image of her staring down at this same jewel with her hardened expression flashed before him.

A memory that made him drag his other hand down his face.

What the hell had he done?

He shouldn’t have come out here.

He should have treated Minho’s report like any other. The routine words he always delivered after every special task. He should have dismissed the mention of his Midnight Captain sighting her out here earlier in the evening on his return from his mission.

But something about it had gnawed at him.

Why was the second princess running around palace grounds like a thief? In this weather, in the dark of the night?

Minho had mentioned it briefly, his words laced with suspicion, but as the rainstorm intensified, so did the unease eating away at Chris’ thoughts. Something in him tried to convince himself that he was out here because of his duties as Nightshade’s Crown Prince. To uncover potential sneaky ruses that seemed to take place in the middle of the night here in Elysium.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew deep down it wasn’t true.

Perhaps that was when he made his first wrong choice.

But now the Warrior Prince stood in the midst of the wet garden, the pouring rain drenching his lone figure as he cursed himself for making such terrible choices.

He had returned to his chambers, dripping wet, a sight that made Han fix him with that unreadable, judgmental gaze he often wore when he kept his thoughts to himself.

But Chris needed the nagging. He needed the younger guard’s berating words to distract him from whatever had unfolded in the darkness of the garden.

But there was none of that. Instead, Han simply stared at him, eyes intense.

“You can’t love two women Chris.”

Han’s words had immediately pulled Chris back to his reality, big eyes staring at his friend with a sudden shock.

Aware deep down that whatever Han had just said was the very ones pricking at his conscious.

Of course Han would notice, without his Prince ever having to voice any of it. He was his closest friend, his confidant. And as the sole person at the older Prince’s side almost all hours of the day, he’s easily able to catch the lingering gazes, the stifled smiles that Chris thought he hid well.

All directed towards another princess.

And especially now, with how Chris had almost rushed out into the night, with no strategy besides some lame excuses behind such recklessness, the truth had been laid bare.

The personal guard had long suspected it. The pull the second princess seemed to have on his prince was worrisome from the moment he had noticed. Not that Chris having feelings for either of the enemy princess’ was any less concerning.

It was astonishing almost for Han.

At how easily Chris had fallen for Princess Y/N. Even if he claimed it wasn’t so.

Chris had pined for an unnamed princess for the past decade. Imagining, re-imagining how beautiful she must have grown to be. How resolute, how compassionate she must be.

Expressive, justice-driven.

Curious, ambitious.

Qualities that his now grown princess was didn’t portray.

Qualities that another princess possessed.

Han looked at Chris now, sitting in silence, his hair still dripping, staring at the floor, clearly lost in the weight of the words the guard uttered, of his own thoughts.

“I-I don’t know what to do.” Chris finally breathed out, his voice laced with confusion and a twinge of frustration, wiping the wet streaks from his face.

Han had always been in awe of Chris’ unwavering devotion to his princess. His belief that theirs was a love story, despite the obstacles in their way. A true love story.

But Han had never imagined it would be this tragic.

The unnamed princess didn’t remember Chris. She had changed into someone he didn’t recognize, someone different from the person he had once adored.

In that moment, Han wished that Princess Y/N had been the one Chris had dreamed of for so long.

Even if their nations were enemies, even if they were torn apart by the duties they owed their kingdoms, a love story between them would have been tragic in a way that at least left room for remembrance.

At least they would have loved each other. And Han could only watch pitifully.

“For now—dry off.” Han sighed, moving toward the grand wardrobe to pull out something dry for his prince.

“We should discuss what Minho reported. It’s quite concerning.” Han tried to redirect the conversation, but Chris blinked up at him with narrowed brows.

“—The other thing he stumbled upon.”

Chris groaned, rubbing his face in frustration, trying to steady himself. He had to focus, to remember his duties as the Nightshade Kingdom’s Crown Prince.

Minho’s report had been direct, yet still quite alarming. The Midnight leader had reported about the large group of knights stationed at the border. His mission had been quite straightforward, yet he didn’t expect to see such a scene. Elysium had never been a military nation, known more for their entrepreneurship rather than their fighting prowess. So to see such a large military presence just beyond the walls that separated the two kingdoms was unexpected.

They were building an army.

And they planned to attack.

It was a conclusion any sensible person would come to. Though the Nightshade warriors had suspected it from the start, witnessing it firsthand was a different matter.

“They don’t plan to let me return safely. It’s clear enough.” Chris muttered, eyes flashing with frustration and anger.

“Maybe as we get closer to the border, they plan to ambush us.” He spat, snatching the drying cloth Han had handed him, the wet fabric now gripped in his fists.

The personal guard’s brows furrowed. He knew it was a likely scenario, and he was unafraid of a fight, especially when it meant protecting his prince. But still, the thought of an ambush sent a chill through him.

“Should we do anything to prepare?” Han asked, his voice steady, though concern flickered in his eyes as he awaited his prince’s orders.

Chris glanced between his guard and then out toward the window, where the storm outside seemed to mirror his growing unease. Thunder rumbled, and lightning lit up the sky.

“Command the warriors to stay on defense for now. Keep an eye on anything suspicious happening in their quarters.” His tone was cold, precise.

“And—” Chris suddenly fell silent, his eyes fixed on nothing as though lost in thought, as if something had just come rushing back to him.

He recalled Princess Y/N’s words. The ones she had whispered through her tears, clinging to him in the garden.

“You must leave Prince Christopher.”

At first, he had believed she said them simply because of his forbidden presence, because of the comfort he had offered. But now, those words took on a new weight.

They felt like a warning.

The Second Princess of Elysium knew something. And whatever it was, it was likely the cause of her frantic actions tonight.

“...Your highness?” Han’s concerned voice had broken him from his trance.

Chris shook his head, as if clearing the fog, before his gaze sharpened.

“Let’s meet with the second princess tomorrow.”

Han blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in direction of their next moves.

“For Nightshade duties, nothing else.” Chris could easily read the younger warrior’s expression.

Han’s expression betrayed his confusion and skepticism, which Chris’ spotted clear on his face. He should feel upset, frustrated at the lack of faith his personal guard and his Midnight leader had in him. But, given how every action involving Princess Y/N had been driven by forces beyond his control, he didn’t blame them.

Still, now was not the time to be a fool. His crown, his responsibilities as the heir to Nightshade, outweighed everything else. His duty was clear, no matter where his heart tried to lead him.

But the next morning the Nightshade Prince found himself sitting across Princess Sienna. He had invited the Second Princess for tea, of course as a ruse, but didn’t expect the first princess in her place.

He should have been happy. But instead, his heart twisted with an unfamiliar sensation when he realized he wasn’t so.

“I apologize for my sudden presence Prince Christopher, but Y/N was feeling unwell this morning and I decided to keep you company instead.” She smiled, the kind of smiles that had made him look at her in admiration, once.

Yet, all the Warrior Prince could feel was his heart hammering against his chest. His concern for Y/N, evident in his wide eyes that seemed to bore into Sienna.

“Unwell? Is she alright? Did something els—” He caught himself, his barrage of questions tinged with worry.

It almost slipped that he and Y/N had been together last night. The way Sienna’s startled gaze met his, made him gulp.

“Did something happen to her?” He finished with a simple question, hoping it wouldn’t betray him further.

“Ah…” Sienna hesitated, glancing between the attendant who was pouring tea and the prince sitting before her.

“She had a fever from forgetting to close the balcony doors last night. She’s resting now, but is alright otherwise. Thank you for your concern, your highness.”

The excuse made sense. An easy lie, one that only the Second Princess could deliver with such effortless ease, convincing the softer, more trusting First Princess. But Chris saw through it. He knew the real reason, and guilt gnawed at him, pulling his mind back to last night. Y/N’s drenched form, pressed against him, burned into his thoughts.

Sienna had fallen back into their shared breakfast, reaching for her cup of tea, unknowing of the turmoil churning in the man that sat across her.

“You seem to have a special attachment to that piece of jewelry.” Sienna remarked, breaking the silence, a question that tore him away from his clouded thoughts.

His eyes trailed to the crystal bird, before snapping up to Sienna. Chris stared at the graceful smile still playing on her lips, waiting for a response.

In his mind, he heard Y/N’s sharp words from the night before.

“Do you really not recall this thing, Princess?” Chris’ voice was steady, but his gaze was intent, hoping for Sienna to nod and admit she remembered.

Part of him needed her to confess, but another part…

“I don’t.” Her brows had furrowed with confusion, staring at the little trinket against the fabric of his shirt.

“It seemed familiar when I first saw it.” She continued, her words flowing easily.

“Perhaps I had something like it as a child. Or maybe, seeing something so simple among all the heavy jewelry at the banquet caught my eye.” She pondered aloud, unaware of the deepening void her words created in Chris’ mind.

The Warrior Prince gripped his cup tightly. The harshness of Y/N’s words, now so true, echoed in his thoughts. He watched Sienna take another sip of her tea, his mind spinning.

For a moment, his brow furrowed, then slowly relaxed. His eyes blinked as he looked at the young lady across from him,

He had a sudden realization.

One he should have had the moment he met Sienna. That this princess was not his once friend.

That his childhood companion, the one who he had been desperate to reunite with, was not here.

She hadn’t been here from the beginning, perhaps disappearing the day he failed to show up.

Maybe he had conjured her up. His imagination created a friend in his desperate need to survive in that river that day. But he knew that that wasn’t true. That she was a real person. One Han had seen. One who left behind this crystal bird that he carried with him for the last decade, and memories he still held dearly.

It would have been easier. To come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t real.

But as he stared at Sienna he realized.

His childhood friend had died.

Along with the memories the first princess did not remember. The ones she lost. His childhood friend was amongst them.

Instead he was chasing after the ghost of someone who once was.

And Sienna was nothing but the First Princess of Elysium.

Nothing but a stranger.

He felt his throat go dry.

Y/N couldn’t quite recall how she had returned to her chambers, or how she managed to avoid being seen. She vaguely remembered finding her knight passed out outside her door. The sight of his figure slumped against the wall as if he was knocked unconscious rather than asleep, should have felt bizarre to her. Or maybe he had likely grown too comfortable as the night wore on and decided that standing guard was no longer necessary.

But none of that seemed to matter now.

What weighed on her mind was something else entirely.

She had drifted in and out of her own consciousness throughout the night, only to fully realize, when the fever finally took hold, that she was unwell, burning with heat. By then, Anna had already been at her side, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead.

The rain had been relentless indeed, even opening her eyes had been difficult, her body trembling uncontrollably. It wasn’t until noon that her fever finally broke, and she blinked up to find Anna staring down at her with a mixture of worry and fear. She had even managed to mutter possible excuses of her fever in between her haze, something about the balcony doors.

Sienna had apparently visited early in the morning, and while she was there, an attendant from Ruby Hall had come with an invitation from Prince Christopher, requesting her presence.

Of course, Y/N couldn’t go. So, Sienna had gone in her stead, the right gesture for a princess in such a situation. Yet, that did little to ease the ache in Y/N’s chest. It only reminded her that she was still in love with the enemy prince. The one who hurt her.

Rather, the one she hurt, with her harsh tone, her venomous words. From her hiding of the truth.

Perhaps she should feel relieved that she had fallen ill, sparing her from facing him. To avoid those intent gazes that seemed to pierce her very soul. To escape the memory of his lips, searing hot against hers.

“I’ve changed the bandages and applied the salve on your wound. It seemed to have been irritated by the rain,” Anna’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts as she gently helped Y/N sit up in bed.

Y/N instinctively glanced at her shoulder, understanding now why it had been sore last night.

“You really scared me, my lady.” Anna murmured, her voice soft as she furrowed her brow in concern.

Y/N looked at the young girl, offering a faint smile as she reached out to gently squeeze Anna’s hand.

“I’m sorry. You must have been worried sick.”

Anna shook her head, returning the squeeze with a quiet reassurance.

“I’m just glad you’re alright. And I’m sure you’ll feel even better after a light lunch. What would you like prepared, my lady?” Anna asked, already standing and heading toward the door, ready to go to the kitchen hall.

“Lunch?” Y/N blinked, her eyes darting toward the balcony doors. The curtains were drawn open, and bright afternoon sunlight streamed in.

“What time is it?” She asked, surprised by the sudden realization of how late it had become.

“Oh… it’s half past noon. Don’t worry about your duties. I’ve already told the attendants you’ll be resting today—”

“Help me get dressed. I promised Prince Hyunjin I’d have lunch with him.” Y/N moved quickly, as if the fever from earlier hadn’t even touched her.

“Princess, you must rest!” Anna insisted, her brows knitting into a frown.

“It’s just lunch with company, nothing too demanding. I promise.” Y/N said with a wide smile.

Anna’s resolve easily wavered. The princess’ smile always seemed to have that effect. With a heavy sigh, she turned toward the wardrobe to prepare Y/N’s clothes.

Hyunjin was surprised to see Y/N. The Second Princess, who he’d been told was feeling unwell, greeted him with a quick curtsy, her smile bright despite her condition. He had expected to have lunch alone, perhaps exchanging a few words with Seungmin, but the guard was hardly a conversationalist, so it was likely he would have just rambled by himself. The sight of Y/N now standing before him, instead made him smile.

“Are you feeling better?” Hyunjin stood from his chair, gesturing for her to take the chair a servant had pulled out for her.

The Second Princess settled into her seat gracefully, and Hyunjin followed, leaning back in his own chair.

“It was just a slight fever, nothing too concerning.” She nodded, glancing up at the servant pouring them their tea.

“I would have understood if you decided to rest instead.”

“Prince Hyunjin, truly, I am fine.” Y/N pressed, reaching for the book he’d been reading, her fingers brushing over the pages.

Hyunjin’s gaze lingered on her, knowing she was still recovering. A faint weariness in her expression that didn’t hide well. The Sylvancrest Prince’s eyes settled on her smile as she stared down at the pages she flitted through.

“I’ve always wondered…” Y/N began. “Are the Sylvancrest lakes as vast as they’re described here?” She glanced up at him, her eyes curious, waiting for his response.

“How about you visit and see for yourself?” Hyunjin suggested, his head tilting slightly, his lips pulling into a smile.

He reached for his drink, taking a sip before setting it back with a quiet clink against the coaster.

“Would you like to go to Sylvancrest with me, Princess?”

His question hung in the air. The Princess across blinked, her smile faltering as she met his gaze. Hyunjin’s expression was warm as always, but now there was an intensity in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

Princesses weren’t allowed to leave their nation unless married into another. A rule that was well known, and one Hyunjin surely understood.

Her heart raced in her chest as she stared at him, unsure how to respond to the foreign prince who had always been kind to her, yet now seemed to be hinting at something more. His gaze suddenly became unreadable, and for a moment, the weight of the silence between them felt heavy.

But in that silence, all Y/N could think about was Chan.

The enemy prince she still loved. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

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