#just something that's been brewing in my mind forever

[yesihaveaobsession]

His Antlers

Alastor x female!reader

Summary: A question has been brewing in the readers (you) mind, it was a filthy thought, but it's needed to be answered.

A/N- Heyyy, I’m back! I’m planning to write more this year. I didn’t finish many fics last year, mostly because I ran out of ideas, haha. So if you’ve got any Alastor fic ideas, feel free to drop them! I’ll pick a couple that catch my interest.

ALSO this was inspired by the questions and fics for us Alastor simps

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF FINISHING?

It was a quiet afternoon in the hotel lobby—the kind of quiet that felt almost suspicious, given the usual chaos that unfolded within its walls. You were slouched in one of the very worn-out armchairs, nose-deep in a magazine. Well, not really nose-deep. It was more half-heartedly clutched in your hands, and you hadn’t turned a page in what felt like forever.

Across from you sat Alastor, perfectly composed as always, a newspaper spread out in his clawed fingers. His crimson eyes scanned the pages with unnerving focus. But you couldn’t focus on your magazine. No, your thoughts had wandered somewhere... unforgivable.

Your gaze drifted to him again. The sharp angle of his antlers. The slight twitch of his ever-present smile. The occasional glimmer of mischief in his eyes. And then that cursed question popped into your head like a firecracker: Do his antlers… grow when he’s about to… finish?

You desperately tried to shake the thought. Why would you even think that?! It was awful and ridiculous. But now, the question had lodged itself in your brain, and no amount of page-flipping could erase it. Worse still, another thought followed. Has he ever… finished?

Your eyes flicked up from the same page you’d been stuck on to him again. He turned a page in his newspaper, looking perfectly unaware—or so you hoped. When he adjusted the angle of the paper, his antlers shifted slightly. The cursed thought burned brighter in your mind. You stared.

Alastor’s eyes suddenly darted up from his paper. Caught.

You snapped your gaze back to your magazine, heat rushing to your face, pretending the words—now a blur—were the most fascinating in all of Hell. Moments later, curiosity got the better of you, and you glanced up again.

But he was already looking at you, his crimson eyes locked onto yours. A sly, knowing smile tugged at his lips. He said nothing, simply raising a brow before returning to his paper. Was it hot in here?

This silent game of stolen glances and panicked averting went on for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. Finally, Alastor spoke, breaking the unbearable silence.

“You seem distracted, my dear. Something on your mind?” His voice was lilting, teasing, and far too amused.

You froze. There was no way you could ask him. Absolutely no way. He’d kill you—or worse, laugh at you forever. But the words bubbled up in your throat before you could stop them. Taking a deep breath, you blurted it out.

“Do your antlers grow when you… finish?”

The air in the room grew still. Too still. The hum of Alastor’s static seemed louder now, filling the silence that followed your question. Your eyes drifted to the old-timey radio on the table next to him, its static crackling ominously. He was going to kill you, wasn’t he? Slowly, he lowered his newspaper, folding it neatly and setting it aside. His grin widened, sharp and dangerous, his eyes gleaming with unmistakable delight.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his expression frozen in that wicked grin. Then his shoulders began to shake. A sound bubbled up from his chest—a low chuckle that quickly escalated into full-blown hysterical laughter.

“Oh, my dear!” he howled, clutching his stomach. “That is positively the most delightful question I’ve been asked in decades! HAHA! Oh, you do amuse me so!” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye as his laughter subsided into soft chuckles.

Your face burned crimson. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “I—just forget I said anything,” you mumbled, burying your face in the magazine.

But Alastor wasn’t done. He leaned forward, his grin sharp and mischievous. “To answer your question… no, my antlers do not grow. Though,” he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. After all, it’s far more fun that way, wouldn’t you agree?”

You stared at him, speechless.

He leaned back in his chair, picking up his newspaper as if nothing had happened, leaving you to stew in your embarrassment. You knew you’d just given him endless ammunition to tease you with.

[myauditionfordrphil]

This Tuesday me and my mother went to the market to run some errands when a man offered us prasad as he was running the Bada Mangal bhandara. We took the plate of boondi that he offered, dropped some money in the chanda box and stopped nearby to eat the delicacy (believe me it's really delicious). That's when I asked my mother in what exactly Ganga-jamuni tehzeeb is; I've heard this term many a times since my childhood and knew that it broadly defined the politeness and courtesy that Lucknow is known for. She just smiled andd said that this is Ganga-jamuni tehzeeb. Confused, I asked her to explain further. She said "This is what Ganga-jamuni tehzeeb is, us being muslims but still being offered prasad and eating it without any problems on a festival dedicated to Hanuman ji, believed to be started by the Begum of Awadh (Aliya Begum), who herself was a muslim. This peaceful co-existence of two different religions and the fusion of both cultures especially in Lucknow is what Ganga-jamuni tehzeeb really is." And that's when I realised that no matter how much the spread of communalism is affecting our country, a small part will always co-exist together and celebrate each other's cultures. Lucknow is a city that I'm very fond of, may it be it's nawabi culture and architecture, it's constant yet calming hustle, the delicious food, the splendour, the language which always carries a hint of royalty and tameez and it's people who contribute in one way or another to make sure that on this day no one in this city goes to sleep with an empty stomach.

Some of the various treats offered around the city by the bhandaras set up on Bada Mangal (the Tuesdays falling in the third month of the hindu calendar, Jyestha)

[destinywillowleaf]

one of a kind living in a world gone plastic

baby you're so classic

@most-tragic-character-tournament

(all my thoughts in the tags)

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Soooo random but

I think that choso would be a total Baby when he’s sick. Especially since he’s only been human for a little bit. He hasn’t even expirenced a cold before. He’d probably get super clingy and whiny and need to be taken care of.

Crybaby Choso

Tags: Choso x gn!Reader, sick!choso, needy!choso, sfw, fluffy drabble

An: You're so right, anon. I totally see Choso just being a whiny little crybaby when he's sick, but he's cute so he gets away with it.

"Baby." A deep raspy voice pulls you from your slumber, but you're not mad. You'd know that voice from anywhere.

"Yes baby?" You ask groggily, not even opening your eyes yet.

"Something's wrong..." Choso responds, giving you another nudge so you'll finally open your eyes.

"Hm? What's wrong?" You murmur, using your hands to wipe the sleep from your eyes. It's pitch black in your room, and a quick glance at your phone reveals that it's 2 in the morning.

"I don't feel right. I think I'm dying." Your sweet boyfriend's voice sounds so panicked. You also remember the one time he thought he was going to die because he stubbed his toe on the couch one morning.

Your boyfriend is incredibly strong and a skilled fighter. He knows just how to be rough around the edges, and he's not afraid to get dirty. It's the little things about being human that turn him into such a whiny mess.

You don't mind though. It warms your heart that he feels safe enough around you to drop the tough curse persona. He lets you get a front row seat of his vulnerabilities.

"What doesn't feel right, baby?" You ask in a soft tone. Your hands find his naked body underneath the blankets. He never liked sleeping with clothes on. His body felt warm and feverish under your touch.

"My stomach feels uneasy, and my head is pounding. I also can't breathe through my nose." Ah, classic symptoms of the man-flu. Choso is likely sick, but he's new to being human... and he's a man, which makes him a total crybaby when he's sick.

"Oh, you poor thing. C'mere." You murmur to him, and he immediately scoots over to you, lying his heavy, sweaty body on you. "Not that close, Choso-" You grunt from lying underneath his weight.

"I need you, baby. What if these are our final moments?" He whines, causing you to let out a small giggle from his overdramatic personality.

"You're not going to die." You assure him with another small laugh before grabbing his jaw and directed his forehead to your lips. You feel the heat from his head tingle your skin. He is running a fever.

His breath is coming out in small pants. You hum softly as you rise from the bed. "Where are you going, baby?" Choso whines like a lost puppy as he immediately tries to follow you.

You place a firm hand on his shoulder, preventing him from getting up from the bed. "I'm not going anywhere. Relax, honey. You're running a fever, so I'm going to go get you some medicine." You try to reassure him, but he gives you those puppy-dog eyes and that cute little pout. You know he's just a needy mess right now. "Be right back, promise." You press a quick kiss to his temple before venturing off to the bathroom to look in the medicine cabinet.

With you assortment of brews and potions (warm tea, medicine, and a small bowl of chicken noodle soup), you come back into the bedroom to find Choso helplessly holding your pillow, cuddling it closely to his chest with tears brimming his eyes.

"You must be really feeling bad, honey. Look. I got you some stuff to help you feel better." You mumble softly to him as you crawl into the bed next to him.

"You took forever. I don't think I can live without you when I'm like this, baby. You have to call off work tomorrow." How can you say no to such a pitiful expression? His face is pale with the exception of his poor little nose, which is rosy tint from sniffling.

"Okay, baby. I'll stay home." You respond with a small laugh before he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"Can we cuddle and watch that show you really like, please?" He asks as his nose nudges at your neck, indulging his desire for your scent. He genuinely can't fathom going without you right now.

"Of course, baby. Whatever you want." You respond as you hand him the medicine and cup of tea. He, of course, makes a disgusted face as he tries to swallow the pills. Poor thing.

The rest of the week is dedicated to nursing poor Choso back to health through the power of kisses, cuddles, head petting, and Love is Blind. By the end of the week, he's back to his slightly-less-needy self..... aaaand you start to feel like shit! He ever so graciously passed his germs on to you.

[urstruly-ghst]

a fairytale moment could've occurred

in which sebek laments the fact he'll probably never let the walls he put between you two. forever will you be his fairytale just out of reach.

author's note: sebek being so soft is something i need to see

taglist: @tsubaki3192

How cruel it is, Sebek notes, when you both share the same table drinking coffee. He wasn’t a fan of the bitter taste it leaves, but here he is, brewing a pot and sharing his notes with you. It was an uncharacteristically quiet study session.

The smoke from the boiling pot brought Sebek a new sense of calm; he found a new tolerance to black coffee. You were on the other end of the boiling coffee pot, eyes scanning the notes you kindly asked for Sebek. He finds it endearing that you sought his advice. After all, he was fairly brutal with your magicless abilities. Your tired eyes keep scrolling; the silence envelops you two, and his green eyes scan you.

“Human, you have been staring at the same page for a while,” Sebek said sharply. You jolt, and Sebek felt his heart flutter at your flustered apology. You usually ask for others’ help, but all seem to be busy. Finding a new friendship with the fae, you asked for his assistance. Oddly enough, it was more productive than any study session with your other friends. 

“Sorry. It’s just… The magic aspect to this quiz is making my head ache.” You sighed and glared at the notes. Sebek wanted to laugh, reach for your hand, comfort you, and gently guide you. But he can’t.

“Heh. Of course, you don’t. You never wielded magic,” Sebek said bluntly, but it wasn’t an insult. It was a fact. You giggled and nodded, agreeing with him. How could you be so casual around him? He asks as he sees how your smile reaches your eyes and how you throw your head back as if he just said the world’s greatest joke.

“Why are you laughing? Am I telling a joke? Human!” Sebek said flusteredly as you shook and coughed lightly. You breathed in and flashed him a smile. Oh, Sevens. Don’t smile at him like that. He needed to catch his breath, he grabbed his coffee mug and tried to hide his emotions.

“Nothing.” You smile and look back at the notes. You fell back into the silence that comforts him. He peeked from the smoke of the coffee. He sought your expressions. Sebek can’t help but feel like the world mocks his conflicted feelings.

Entering his dorm, he expected to do what he did best: training. He planned to review his routines, but his feet dragged him to his desk. The desk was neat, with a pen, notebook, and a few notepads. It wasn’t time to study; he had just studied with you. But here he is, picking up the pen and paper.

“What am I doing?” He mumbled, but his hand didn’t stop. It went onto the paper as if your name was written on autopilot. Seeing your name in his handwriting was a stomach-churning feeling; it felt exhilarating, and it felt so right.

“Dear, [Name]

What have you done to me? Is there some force you discovered? Have you managed to wield magic when you claim not to? This feeling is unbecoming of me; it's all you. With every detail I miss and every detail I catch, they lead back to you.

Is this what friendship does to you? Silver and I’s friendship never plagued my thoughts with this feeling. I have so many questions, Prefect [Name], and I don’t know if I am ready to ask you this. Is the friendship we have–”

Sebek gasped as the words his mind never dared to give second thought were on the paper. The words looking back at him made the feeling all the more real. It wasn’t as horrifying to admit it, Sebek thought. If anything, it felt liberating. He stared at the words, and his heart pounded. This feeling– it’s new and 

“Exhausting,” Sebek yawned. He was surprised when he felt fatigued and was usually willing to make himself work more. He'd munch on some random confectionary if he needed to break. However, he found himself hopping on his bed and lying there to do nothing but stare. What sorcery did you put on him when you were both studying?

“Foolish thoughts…” Sebek mumbled, irritated at everything that seemed to diminish his well-built character, but there was also a tiny whisper in the back of his mind. Was this the devotion and love he heard from his mother? Was this the pining he once read in the novels passed onto him?

The next day, he didn’t see a peep from you. Then again, you rarely share a class on certain days, so you were expected not to cross paths. Amidst the logic, he felt disappointed. Why is he unhappy? There was a reason and an already logical route to follow, but why was his eyes searching for you in a sea of students?

“Dear, Prefect [Name],

Do I have to always look out for you? My eyes search for you as if you are my young master. How dare you disrupt my duties and time with your rude interruptions?”

Sebek once more was hunched over his desk as the day concluded. He was writing as if he were speaking to you. The pen in his hand was on the verge of breaking because Sebek gripped it with frustration. He can’t handle that he’s in a downward spiral with how he sees you. 

Is there a way for you to be by my side? A selfish request, isn’t it? We barely have started our journey as students, yet I ask you to commit by my side. What foolish ramblings am I having? Prefect, give me a reason not to search for you. Give me a reason so my heart can rest.”

Sebek grew to find this hobby of writing letters before he retired for the night therapeutic. In the daytime, you two will remain the same. By the time you both part ways, Sebek writes whatever emotion and longings he wishes he dared to say. At each letter, he signs them off, with a particular choice of words, “Ever yours.”

How can he be yours when his letters never were sent? It was addressed to you, but they only stay locked in his desk drawers. Sometimes, if it was a particularly strongly worded letter, he dumps it quickly to the fire. Sebek would watch the embers carry his words to ashes, ensuring he’d never say it out loud. He was deathly afraid that the moment he spoke up and revealed who he was beyond the loud Malleus fanatic, Sebek would break under the reality that you would not react to how he wanted.

The next day, you and Sebek were talking once more. It was an impulse to go and see the Equestrian Club, but you opted to watch when your other friends were dragged somewhere else. Grim was also dragged somewhere, so you were left to use your own devices. As you both step onto the patch of grass, you feel at peace. You noticed that spending more time with Sebek was unusually fun and insightful, and he wasn’t a bore.

“Ah, Sebek. Brought in a friend?” Silver asked, smiling softly at you and nodding at his comrade. You wave and nod to his question. Sebek, on the other hand, huffs and shakes his head.

“Don’t be ridiculous. They just tagged along. Plus, does it bother you that I have a friend?” Sebek watched you laugh every time his bluntness showed, and he remembered your choice of words: “What a diva,” how silly can you be?

Sebek looked confused and tilted his head. Was this another human thing he needed to learn? All he remembers was how you now affectionately called him “My diva.” He remembered flaring up and shaking his head, refusing that you call him such ridiculous names. Sebek’s name must be honored!

But, how come his head reeled back as he remembered you used “my,” as if you brandished him as yours alone? He felt that endearment burn his soul. As he looked at the horses, he had an idea. Was it thoroughly planned? No, but you and your influence made him think this is brilliant.

“Hop on,” Sebek said as he motioned to a calmer horse (he was not aware why the horses were startled by him). You look at him and laugh. He blushed and asked shyly. “Not diva behavior?” 

You looked at him and laughed, the kind of laugh that would hurt your stomach, “No, diva. But, hey, you better catch me when I fall.” You said as you took the offer. Sebek nodded and promised,

“I will. I’ll catch you.”

—

“Dear, Prefect,

I meant what I said. I will catch you when you fall. Lending you the horse I would ride, chatting idly, and being with you… It brought a better version of my days here at Sage Island. While I still find my young master’s presence the main reason I stay and better myself, your presence became a new addition to my list of reasons to be better.

Don’t fret about my attitude and views because you altered it. For whatever reason, my heart foolishly follows your whims. You don’t know how much I detest this feeling. This is absurd; it is the same foolish tale my mother followed. As a child, I never understood, but now, with the knowledge that my heart burns… I came to know that reckless feeling.

You don’t need to know how much I wish to be more kind. But for now, I can’t. I shall remind you that you are human, and I am a fae. However, when the time comes when my walls crumble at your feet, please catch me too.

Catch me like how I will catch you.

Ever yours,

The “Diva”

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (final)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 13.4k+

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: protected sex, oral (f. receiving), mentions of hospital, stitches, wounds, injuries, scars, angst (lmk if i missed anything)

A/N: wow, i can’t believe my first-ever series is finally over. it’s been almost two months since i started this, and you guys have shown me immense love and support for this story—something i’ll forever be grateful for. a part of me feels sad to let go of these characters, but i think i’ll be coming back with a few drabbles every now and then.

i truly hope you’re satisfied with the ending, and i hope reading this series brought you comfort the same way writing it brought comfort to me. thank you so much to everyone who stuck around until the very end. stay tuned for more of my work. also HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYSSSS i hope all of you have the best year ahead. love you guys <3

final: garden of the open road

"Or maybe you should get her flowers!!" Hoseok chimes, his tone bright and optimistic as he leans over the workbench, twirling a wrench in his hand like he’s just unlocked the secret to the universe. "I mean, flowers solve everything, right?" His grin is infectious, lighting up his entire face as he glances between Jungkook and Jimin for validation.

Jimin, lounging across from him with a barely concealed look of skepticism, raises an eyebrow. "Come on, Hyung. Y/n owns a flower shop. Do you really think giving her flowers would be anything other than redundant? That’s like giving a baker bread... or... or a mechanic spare tires. Think it through." He crosses his arms, leaning back smugly as if he’s already won the debate.

Jungkook remains silent, his attention absorbed by the bike in front of him, polishing it. The rhythmic motion of his cloth on the metal feels almost meditative, but inside, a storm brews.

It's been a week since you stormed out of his shop, and the silence between the two of you has only amplified the weight of his regret. Every word that Yoongi had said to him echoes in his mind... Yoongi's disappointment, his advice, and his harsh yet caring words.

He knows now, with absolute clarity, that he can’t keep doing what he’s been doing. Avoiding, running, pushing you away... it was never just about protecting you, it was also about his own fears. And Yoongi was right... he needs to stay. To show you, not just with words but with actions, that he’s in this. Fully. Wholeheartedly.

Meanwhile, Hoseok and Jimin continue their back-and-forth, brainstorming creative suggestions for Jungkook to make it up to you.

Jungkook doesn’t respond, his thoughts spiraling as he grapples with how to make things right and undo the damage he’s caused. He’s been giving you space, knowing you probably need time to cool off.

But he can’t stop himself from wondering. How are you holding up? Are your wounds healing? Are you still angry with him? Do you still hate him? The questions gnaw at him relentlessly, each one heavier than the last.

Every moment without you feels like a thousand lifetimes, and the weight of his inaction is suffocating. His silence, his avoidance… it’s all been one colossal mistake. He loves you too much to keep fumbling this, and after you poured your heart out to him like that, doing nothing would only cement the fact that he’s the biggest idiot on the planet.

Yoongi was right. Jungkook needs to be with you, not just in the easy moments but in the tough ones, too. He needs to be the person who gives you peace, not the one who makes you question everything.

As Jungkook continues his silent contemplation, Hoseok and Jimin’s bickering grows louder, their voices rising as they try to outdo each other in the "perfect apology to Y/n" department.

The two suddenly pause when the sound of the shop door opening cuts through their debate. All three heads snap towards the entrance, and they see Yoongi walking in, his expression as calm and unreadable as ever.

He cracks his neck, adjusts his shoulders, and strides towards Jungkook. Without a word, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pair of keys, and tosses them at Jungkook.

Still seated by the bike, Jungkook barely manages to catch them with his greasy hands. He looks down at the keys, confusion flickering across his face. “You… you got my bike back?” he asks, his voice laced with disbelief, his brows furrowing as he lifts his gaze to Yoongi. “Hyung… how did you—?”

Before he can finish, Yoongi shakes his head, cutting him off with a raised hand. “You don’t have to worry about it.” he says, his tone firm. “Just focus on making things right with Y/n. And listen to me carefully... don’t even think about getting involved with Mingyu again. I’m serious, Jungkook. No second chances there.”

The warning in Yoongi’s voice is enough to make Jungkook nod, a mix of gratitude and guilt bubbling in his chest. Yoongi’s sharp gaze briefly sweeps over Hoseok and Jimin, and with a subtle nod in their direction, he turns and heads towards the storeroom.

“Damn, Yoongi-hyung is so cool.” Jimin mutters under his breath, sounding almost awestruck.

“Anyways, like I was saying…” Hoseok begins again, picking up right where they left off, as though the brief interruption never happened. In no time, the two are back at it, listing an increasingly sappy and downright cringey array of suggestions for how Jungkook could apologize to you, the ideas growing more and more outrageous by the second.

Jungkook shakes his head, tuning them out as he looks down at the keys in his hand. He knows that none of their over-the-top plans will work. If he wants to make things right with you, he has to do it his own way... authentic, heartfelt, and real.

He needs to let you know how much he cares, how much he wants you in his life, and how deeply he loves you. No grand gestures or flashy displays. Just him, making it right.

As the minutes tick by, Jungkook finishes working on the bike in front of him. He wipes his hands clean, his mind already racing with thoughts of how to approach you. Just as he’s about to step away from the bike, the shop door creaks open again, drawing everyone’s attention.

This time, it’s Mr. Kwon, the town head, stepping inside. “Hey, boys.” he greets warmly, his gaze sweeping across Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook. Yoongi steps out, emerging from the storeroom and raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Oh, Mr. Kwon…” Yoongi says, folding his arms as he leans casually against the wall. “What brings you here today?”

“Ah, nothing too pressing.” Mr. Kwon replies calmly as he fixes his suit. “I just wanted to inform you boys about the meeting at the townhall this Friday. The agenda is to discuss the upcoming community drive-in movie night that will be happening on Sunday. It’s an annual event we do for fun and fundraising.”

“A drive-in movie night?” Hoseok’s eyes light up, leaning forward with genuine excitement. “I didn’t even know we did things like that around here! That sounds amazing.”

“It’s one of our most cherished traditions.” Mr. Kwon explains with a nod. “We set up a big screen on the old field just past Main Street. Everyone gathers in their cars, bring snacks, and enjoy the movie under the stars. It’s also a way to raise money for community projects. Last year, the proceeds went towards renovating the public library.”

“Oh wow, that sounds amazing!” Jimin chimes in, his tone enthusiastic. “Do people suggest the movie beforehand, or do you just pick something classic?”

“We like to keep it democratic.” Mr. Kwon replies with a chuckle. “That's why there's a meeting. People pitch ideas, and then we take a vote. It keeps everyone involved and ensures we pick something most people will enjoy. Last year, it was Back to the Future. Quite a hit.” he explains and the boys nod, giving him approved hums.

“So it would be great if you boys showed up on Friday.” he adds, glancing around at the group. “We could all sit down and decide what to watch together.”

“Of course, Mr. Kwon. We’ll be there.” Yoongi says with a small smile, straightening up from his casual stance. Hoseok and Jimin eagerly nod in agreement, their excitement evident. “Well then, I’ll see you all on Friday.” Mr. Kwon says warmly, before stepping out of the shop.

As the door shuts close, the shop falls into a brief silence. Jungkook, who has been standing still the whole time, listening to the exchange without a word, finally moves. He steps away from the bike and towards the counter, his expression thoughtful.

The town meeting. He wonders if you’ve heard about it too and the idea of you being there stirs a mix of anticipation and unease in him. Just the thought of seeing you, after everything, makes his chest tighten and his head spin.

//

"So, you're gonna go back to the shop from next week?" Seokjin asks, gently placing the dinner he just prepared onto your small dining table. His voice is calm, but the concern in his eyes flickers as they briefly land on your bandaged hand.

You nod, offering a faint smile. “Yeah. I can’t just sit at home any longer.” you reply.

You’ve just returned from the hospital with your friends after getting the stitches removed from your head. You glance down at your hand, where the injury is slowly starting to heal.

Thanks to Taehyung and Namjoon, the repairs of your shop have been completed... each detail meticulously taken care of, with them keeping you informed every step of the way.

Over the past week, your friends have been your unwavering support. They’ve cooked for you, comforted you, and stayed by your side, especially after you opened up about everything that happened with Jungkook. They didn’t have all the right words, truth be told, there weren’t any, but their presence alone was enough to carry you through.

You’re not okay, not completely. But you’ve begun to accept the harsh reality that maybe… just maybe… things with Jungkook aren’t meant to be.

That thought cuts deep, especially considering how he hasn’t reached out since that moment. Perhaps you were too harsh, too out of line when you called him a coward, even though all he wanted to do was protect you.

Yet, a part of you still feels a seething anger. You miss him, more than you care to admit and the emotional storm inside you leaves you confused, raw, and aching.

"Also..." Taehyung starts, catching your attention as you glance at him from across the table. "Mr. Kwon called all of us for a meeting at the townhall this Friday." he says, his voice steady but with a hint of excitement. Juwon nods in agreement. "Yeah. It's about the drive-in movie night." she adds.

You’ve known about the drive-in movie night for a while, and you expected it to happen soon, just like it always did every year. When things became official between you and Jungkook, you’d often daydreamed about the two of you sitting together in a car, hands intertwined, sharing pretzels and popcorn while watching a movie.

You never mentioned it to him. It was just one of those scenarios you let your mind wander to. But now, that dream feels like a bitter memory, especially with how things ended between you and him.

Still, despite everything, you know you want to attend. You’ve always enjoyed participating in these fundraising events with the people of your town, and the thought of missing out doesn’t sit well with you. "Will you be coming?" Namjoon asks carefully, his gaze soft and understanding.

You smile at him, your heart a little lighter, and nod. "Of course. Let’s all go to the meeting together." you say, glancing around at your friends.

//

Friday sneaks up on you, and before you know it, you, Juwon, and Taehyung are strutting down the pavement towards the townhall. Juwon has her arm looped through yours, clinging tightly to you like a koala. “It’s freezing!” she whines, shivering dramatically.

“It’s not that bad.” Taehyung says, hands in his pockets. “You’re just overly dramatic.” he shrugs. “Says the guy who wears four layers when it’s below 20 degrees.” Juwon fires back.

Taehyung gasps in mock offense. “Excuse you, I’m fashionably layered, thank you. There’s a difference.”

The chilly banter keeps you distracted until you step inside the townhall. Almost immediately, Mrs. Han spots you. “Y/n!” she exclaims, rushing over. Before you can blink, she’s holding your arms and scrutinizing your face like a worried mom.

“How are you, dear? My goodness, look at this scar. Oh, those boys! Nasty, nasty boys!!” she huffs, her face scrunching in outrage. You smile weakly, trying to reassure her. “I’m doing better now, Mrs. Han. Really.”

She shakes her head, unconvinced. “Better? Better?! I heard they just had to pay a fine. A fine! That’s like paying for parking after committing a hit-and-run. Absolutely ridiculous! I hope karma runs over them with a dump truck.”

Juwon chimes in, nodding furiously. “Preferably a truck full of cow poop.” she says and Mrs. Han agrees with her, her expression serious. You bite back a laugh, trying to keep it together. “Thank you, Mrs. Han. I appreciate your concern.”

As you inch away, you pass more familiar faces, each one stopping to check on you. The flood of questions and well-meaning outrage is almost too much, but you manage to navigate through the crowd and find Namjoon and Seokjin, who’ve saved seats for all of you.

You plop down in the chair, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I’ve survived the auntie inquisition.” you say. Namjoon chuckles. “You’re braver than I am. Mrs. Han once interrogated me for twenty minutes about why I don’t eat enough spinach.”

Seokjin smirks. “Spinach is important. Haven’t you seen Popeye?” Before you can retort, Taehyung slides into his seat. “So, what movie are we voting for? I say Shrek. It’s a masterpiece.” he says. Juwon groans. “Taehyung, not everything can be solved with ogres.”

“First of all....” he replies, raising a finger. “Shrek is a cinematic masterpiece. Second of all, it’s funny, heartwarming, and has layers. It’s perfect.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I’m betting on something classic, like Forrest Gump. You know, a movie that makes you think about life.”

Seokjin snorts. “More like a movie that makes you think about shrimp. Shrimp gumbo, shrimp soup, shrimp salad…” he says as Taehyung giggles. “Okay, but what about Mean Girls?” Juwon suggests. “Everyone needs a little high school drama now and then.”

“Oh my god... I can quote that entire movie.” you add with a grin. “So fetch.” you say, winking at your friends. Taehyung dramatically raises an eyebrow. “Stop trying to make fetch happen. It’s not going to happen.” he beams and the group bursts out laughing, and for the first time in a while, you feel a little lighter.

While you and your friends continue to laugh, Jungkook lingers by the entrance of the townhall, his gaze fixed on you. He notices the absence of the bandage around your head, the way your laughter fills the room, and the brightness in your smile that feels almost contagious.

It’s such a stark contrast to the image burned into his mind from a week ago... your pain, your tears and though he knows he isn’t the reason for that smile or your happiness, he feels a quiet relief seeing you like this.

“Stop staring.” Jimin’s voice cuts through his thoughts, low and teasing. He nudges Jungkook with his shoulder, breaking his trance. “You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“I wasn’t staring.” Jungkook mutters, his jaw tightening slightly. “Sure, sure.” Jimin retorts with a smirk, gesturing towards the hall. “Now move, loverboy. People are trying to get in.”

Reluctantly, Jungkook steps further inside. As he walks past your group, your laughter rings out again, soft and warm. It tugs at something deep inside him, bittersweet and impossible to ignore. He glances at you briefly, the temptation to linger overwhelming, but you or none of your friends notice him. Maybe that’s for the best.

He follows Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi to the back, where they quietly settle into one of the last rows. Slumping into his seat, Jungkook sneaks another glance your way.

You’re surrounded by your friends, immersed in their lively chatter, and for a fleeting moment, he lets himself just observe. Seeing you like this... laughing, smiling... is somehow enough to ease the ache in his chest, even if he’s not the reason behind your happiness.

For now, that will have to be enough, at least until he musters up the courage to finally talk to you.

Eventually, Mr. Kwon steps onto the dais, commanding the room's attention with his usual calm authority. He begins the meeting, and as expected, what follows is a spirited and seemingly endless debate about which movie to screen for the drive-in event this Sunday.

Suggestions fly across the room, each met with enthusiastic agreements or vehement objections. Some champion a nostalgic classic, while others argue for something modern and thrilling.

The discussion grows lively, with raised hands, animated gestures, and occasional laughter rippling through the crowd. Mr. Kwon, ever the patient mediator, lets the town hash it out, his steady gaze sweeping over the sea of opinions.

Eventually, a consensus is reached... a fun, family friendly timeless classic that everyone agrees will be perfect: The Parent Trap. Satisfied murmurs fill the air as Mr. Kwon finalizes the details, his booming voice carrying over the low hum of excitement.

As the meeting concludes, the energy in the room begins to shift. People gradually drift towards the exits, chatting in clusters as they wrap up their conversations.

Your friends are caught up in their own moments. Namjoon stands by the side, deep in conversation with the grandpa from the bookstore, their voices low and amiable. Taehyung and Juwon hover near Mrs. Han, listening intently as she animatedly recounts some anecdote. Seokjin, ever the comedian, laughs with one of the local kids at the back.

You find yourself standing quietly amid the bustle, a small pocket of stillness in the lively atmosphere. You have the sudden urge to take a moment for yourself, just to step out and catch a breather.

The noise and movement of the hall fade into the background as you quietly slip towards the door, seeking the cool embrace of the evening air.

You walk carefully away from the town hall, the faint hum of voices and laughter fading behind you. The soft glow of the streetlights reflects off the pavement, casting long, quiet shadows that stretch into the night.

Eventually, you spot a bench nestled under a tree, just far enough from the hall to feel secluded but close enough to hear the occasional burst of laughter from the remaining crowd.

Without hesitation, you make your way towards it, the crisp evening air brushing against your skin. Taking a seat, you lean back, exhaling slowly as you let the weight of the day settle over you.

Despite the lively meeting and the buzz of energy around you earlier, your mind has been elsewhere, caught in an endless loop of memories and emotions. Back at the meeting, while the townsfolk were fervently debating over the movie choices, your gaze had wandered... and landed on him.

Jungkook was sitting at the back, his figure partially hidden behind the other people. At first, you weren’t even sure it was him, but when you caught sight of his side profile, the way his hair framed his face, you knew. For a fleeting moment, your eyes lingered on him, drawn like a magnet.

You don’t know if he noticed you, he gave no sign that he did. But just seeing him was enough to stir something deep within you... a longing you’ve tried so hard to bury.

The memories, the outburst, the ache of everything, all of it came rushing back with a vengeance. You miss him. Not just in the quiet moments when you’re alone but even in a room full of people, with laughter and chatter all around, you still miss him. So much.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes, surrendering to the quiet embrace of the evening. The breeze whispers across your skin, cool and gentle, carrying with it the faint scent of the earth after dusk.

Above you, the leaves sway softly, their rustling a rhythmic lullaby that contrasts with the chaos unraveling in your mind. Thoughts you’ve tried to bury rise to the surface, each one heavier than the last. You let them swirl and settle, the weight of them pressing against your chest.

For a brief moment, you allow yourself to simply feel, untangling the knots of emotions that have been wound too tightly for too long. Then, the faintest shift in the air pulls you back. It’s subtle at first, almost imperceptible, but it grows... the unmistakable presence of someone nearby.

Your eyelids flutter open, hesitant, as if you’re afraid of shattering the fragile stillness around you. When your gaze shifts to the side, your breath catches.

Jungkook stands a few feet away, the soft street light casting delicate shadows across his face. His expression is unreadable at first, but his eyes… they speak volumes. They hold a hesitance, a yearning, and something deeper... something that pulls at the threads of your heart.

You blink slowly, your pulse quickening. “Y/n…” he murmurs, your name falling from his lips as though it’s a prayer, fragile and reverent, laden with everything he can’t say.

The sound of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and instinctively, you look away, unable to meet his gaze. The emotions surging within you feel like too much... sharp, raw, overwhelming.

Without a second thought, you rise from the bench, the sudden need to put distance between you and him overtaking all reason.

You move quickly, your feet carrying you past him. The weight of his presence feels unbearable... the memories, the words exchanged, the vulnerability you showed him, all crashing over you like waves. Each step you take feels like an attempt to outrun the past, to escape the heaviness that standing before him seems to evoke.

But Jungkook doesn’t let you go.

Before you can get far, his hand reaches out, firm yet gentle, catching your wrist. His fingers curl around it, his touch warm and grounding. “Wait…” he says, his voice louder now, tinged with desperation. You freeze, your heart pounding against your ribs.

Jungkook stares at the back of your head, his breath shallow, his heart drumming in his ears. The warmth of your skin beneath his fingers feels like a tether, keeping him steady even as his emotions threaten to overwhelm him.

“Please…” he repeats, softer this time, his voice cracking as though each word costs him something. There’s a vulnerability in his tone, a rawness that slices through the storm in your mind and roots you in place.

You don’t turn around. The silence stretches, settling heavily between you. You feel his hand slip from your wrist, the absence of his touch as startling as its presence.

For a moment, you hear nothing but the faint rustling of leaves and the distant hum of life in the town. Then, his footsteps draw closer. “Y/n…” he says again, his voice steady but achingly tender. “Would you please look at me?”

You take a deep breath, your chest tightening as you will yourself to move, to do something but your body refuses to obey. You remain still, a statue carved from conflicting emotions, unable to summon the strength to face him.

Feelings of embarrassment and awkwardness surge through your veins because, frankly, you don’t know how to look him in the eye after the way you unraveled last week.

But beneath the vulnerability lies another emotion... a flicker of anger. A part of you is still just a tiny bit mad at him, for how he handled everything. For the way he didn’t show up when you needed him most, for the way he shut you out when all you wanted was to be let in.

And now, standing here, completely unprepared and caught in the unrelenting pull of his gaze, you feel trapped. The hurt, the resentment, the yearning... they all collide within you, creating a maelstrom of emotions that leaves you frozen.

So, you do nothing. You let the silence hang, your feet rooted to the ground as you wrestle with the chaos inside.

Minutes pass, or perhaps it’s only seconds... time feels warped, stretched thin under the weight of the silence. And then, suddenly, you feel his arms carefully snake around your waist, the movement almost hesitant, as though he’s unsure of his place.

Your breath hitches as he gently pulls you back, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His warmth envelops you, seeping into your skin, and his breath grazes the curve of your neck, soft and uneven, carrying with it the weight of emotions he can’t put into words. There’s a fragility in his touch, a silent plea, as if he fears that holding on too tightly might cross a line.

Your body stiffens at the contact, every nerve igniting under the intensity of his presence. His touch burns through you like a fire, its heat both searing and soothing, a contradiction that leaves you reeling. For a second, you sway on the edge of surrender, the thought of leaning into him tugging at the corners of your mind.

“Y/n…” he whispers, your name tumbling from his lips, heavy with sorrow and regret. His voice quivers, faltering as the words fight their way out. “Please, just… just give me a chance to explain myself. I’m… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry... sorry for everything.” he says, his tone raw and husky, cracking under the weight of his emotions.

You feel his arms tighten around you, as if afraid you might slip away. The grip is firm yet tender, grounding yet fragile, and you close your eyes, surrendering—if only for a moment—to the storm of emotions stirring within you. Almost involuntarily, you lean into him, your body finding solace in the warmth of his embrace.

Time seems to still as you stay there, the world outside fading into an indistinct hum. Slowly, your hand rises, hesitating before it rests gently on top of his where it rests on your stomach.

You inhale deeply, the steady rhythm of his breath against your shoulder grounding you, even as your heart pounds furiously against your ribcage.

For now, you allow yourself this momentary indulgence... to bask in the bittersweet safety of his hold, the unspoken solace of his touch, and the ache of longing that lingers between you.

“You could’ve reached out…” you whisper, but it cuts through the stillness. Jungkook stiffens behind you, his grip faltering ever so slightly at the sound of your voice. “You could’ve called, you could’ve texted…” you continue, your words trembling under the weight of everything.

Slowly, you flutter your eyes open, the reality of the moment settling in like a quiet storm. “But you didn’t, Jungkook.”

He says nothing, his silence deafening, and for a second, the unspoken emotions between you feel suffocating.

Then, as if the universe conspires to tear you apart, your phone buzzes in your pocket. The sharp vibration feels like a cruel reminder of the world waiting outside this fragile moment. You don’t even check the screen... you know it’s probably one of your friends, calling to ask where you disappeared to.

You seize the interruption as an excuse. Gently, with the hand that rests on his, you grasp his wrist and peel his arms away, stepping out of his hold. “I… I have to go.” you say, your voice barely holding steady as you take a step forward.

You don’t turn to face him... you can’t. If you do, you know you’ll crumble under the weight of his gaze, those deep, expressive eyes.

You pause for a moment, teetering on the edge of staying, of turning back. The urge to look at him, to search his face for answers, nearly consumes you. But you don’t. You inhale sharply, steeling yourself, and before he can say or do anything to stop you, you’re gone.

As Jungkook watches you walk towards the town hall again, he stands frozen, realizing just how crucial timing truly is. How he should have seized the opportunity to make things right, especially when you came running to his shop, pouring out everything that had been frustrating you.

How, instead of fighting Mingyu, he should have been by your side at the hospital.

How, from the very beginning, he should have set aside his pride and admitted to himself that he liked you all along instead of being mean and hurting you with his words.

Timing. It’s always about the damn timing.

But somehow, even now, as the chance to run after you and stop you slips through his fingers, he remains rooted to the spot like a statue, trapped by his own hesitation.

//

You sit in your apartment, tapping your foot against the floor, the faint rhythm filling the otherwise quiet room. You glance at your phone to check the time— 7:14 PM.

It’s Sunday evening and tonight is the night of the drive-in movie and Namjoon had promised to pick you up, along with your other friends. With the movie scheduled to start at 7:30 PM, worry begins to creep in as the minutes tick by with no sign of your friends.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you get up from the couch. Deciding to head downstairs, you grab your shoes, figuring it’s better to wait outside rather than pacing your apartment like a caged animal.

Just as you slip them on, your phone buzzes with a message from Namjoon. “Here.” it reads. A small smile tugs at your lips as you grab your keys and step out, locking the door behind you.

As you step outside your building and onto the pavement, you immediately spot Namjoon’s car parked across the street, its tinted windows glinting under the lights. You allow yourself another smile, shaking your head lightly at his lateness, and make your way towards the car.

“Hey, what took you so lo—” The words catch in your throat, fading into silence as you open the car door and slip halfway inside. The face behind the wheel isn’t Namjoon’s.

You freeze, your hand gripping the edge of the doorframe, one foot still planted on the pavement outside. The air seems to thicken, time itself grinding to a halt as you stare at him.

Jungkook sits there, hands gripping the steering wheel, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “Hey.” he says, his voice low and cautious. He offers a tight-lipped smile, but it falters, and you can see the tension in his jaw.

You blink, the shock rendering you immobile for a moment too long. Finally, your instincts kick in, and your body shifts as if to retreat. But Jungkook moves faster.

His hand reaches out, gently but firmly catching your wrist. “Wait.” he pleads, his voice suddenly louder, tinged with desperation. “I know… I know I’m the last person you expected to see.”

Your chest tightens, a flood of emotions crashing over you all at once. But his words stop you. “I know I screwed up...” he continues, his voice softer now, almost trembling.

“But… can you just... please... stay? Just watch the movie with me tonight. I… I begged your friend to let me borrow his car because I knew you’d get in if you thought it was him. I know that was weird and probably selfish, but I didn’t know how else to approach you.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. His hand, still holding your wrist, is warm, as your thoughts spiral. “I just… I need to talk to you. To be near you.” he says, his eyes searching yours, his vulnerability raw and unguarded. “Please... Please just give me this one night. One chance to make things right.”

The sincerity in his voice is undeniable, cutting through your walls like a blade. For a moment, you can only stare at him, your heart hammering in your chest.

With a heavy sigh, you shift your leg inside, settling into the passenger seat. You pull the door shut with a soft click, leaning back against the seat as you let out a shallow breath.

Jungkook watches you carefully, his grip on the steering wheel easing just slightly as relief washes over him. The tension in his shoulders loosens, though his eyes remain cautious, as if afraid one wrong move might shatter the delicate moment.

Without another word, he starts the car. The engine hums to life, filling the silence with its steady rhythm. As the vehicle begins to move, the atmosphere remains heavy, a mix of unspoken words and lingering emotions that neither of you dares to address... yet.

Your gaze remains fixed on the passing scenery, a blur of streetlights and faintly illuminated signs. Jungkook doesn’t dare break the silence, his grip on the steering wheel firm, knuckles taut as if anchoring himself.

It doesn’t take long before the car turns onto a gravel path, the tires crunching softly beneath them. You glance up, your attention pulled from the window by the faint glow of string lights strung overhead. They stretch out like a welcoming canopy, casting a warm, golden hue over the open field ahead.

Rows of cars are parked neatly on the wide, open lot, their occupants huddled inside, watching the massive screen that towers at the far end. It’s the typical drive-in movie setup, just like it's done every year... a sprawling outdoor space surrounded by trees, with a concession stand glowing warmly off to one side.

The screen flickers, signaling the movie is about to begin. Jungkook steers the car into an empty spot towards the back, away from the denser cluster of vehicles gathered closer to the center.

He turns off the engine, and for a brief moment, neither of you move. The quiet hum of the field surrounds you as your gaze remains fixed on the screen ahead, watching the movie’s opening sequence unfold.

Jungkook hesitates, his fingers hovering over the radio knob. “I’ll tune it to the station for the movie.” he murmurs, his voice tentative, as if testing the fragile peace between you. He twists the dial slowly, stopping only when the audio from the movie fills the car.

You turn your gaze out the window, watching the faint glow of the screen flicker across your features. The scene outside is almost idyllic... random couples perched on the hoods of their cars, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, sharing snacks as they watch the film.

Your chest tightens as the image before you clashes with the one you used to picture... you and Jungkook, sitting together just like this, cuddled up with his arm draped over your shoulders, laughing softly as you both watch the movie.

The sting in your heart is sharp, but you force yourself to look away, willing the ache to subside. You shift in your seat, eyes reluctantly focusing back on the movie playing on the big screen.

Then, near the gearshift, a faint buzz catches your attention, and almost instinctively, your eyes flicker to Jungkook's phone resting in the console. It’s probably just a random notification, but that’s not what holds your gaze. It's his lock screen.

It’s a photo. Of you. The one he took on your first date, when he playfully tucked wildflowers into your hair and insisted on capturing the moment.

Jungkook notices your silence and follows your gaze. The second he realizes what you’re looking at, his lips part slightly, and he shifts uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. With a nervous twitch, he flips his phone over, as though the simple action could erase what you just saw. But he can’t erase it. And neither can you.

A quiet tension thickens between you both. Jungkook leans back against the seat forcing himself to watch the movie, his posture stiff.

You, on the other hand, can feel your cheeks burning, a strange warmth spreading through you at the realization that he kept a picture of you as his lock screen. Of that moment. A picture you had no idea meant that much to him that he wanted to see it every time he unlocked his phone.

The movie plays on, but the sound seems to fade into the background, your thoughts swirling, caught in a delicate web of emotions you can’t untangle. Finally, you can’t hold it in anymore. "So..." you start, your voice hesitant but soft.

Jungkook’s head snaps towards you, a startled expression crossing his face, but he doesn't speak, waiting for you to continue. You keep your eyes fixed on the screen, avoiding his gaze, though your heart races. "When are you going to start talking?" You ask, the words hanging in the air, laced with a quiet challenge.

Jungkook feels the air escape from his lungs, realizing he can't stay silent any longer. In that moment, he knows he's the one who needs to speak up. If there's any hope of mending things with you, he has to step up... take action, be bold, and stop running from what he’s been avoiding. He has to stop being the coward he’s been.

"I..." he starts, his voice wavering slightly at first. "I thought you wanted to watch the movie. So I was saving it for later." He forces the words out, trying to sound steady, but his gaze flickers nervously.

You turn your head towards him, meeting his eyes with an intensity that makes his chest tighten. "Do you really think I’m worried about the movie when you’re right here?" you ask, your voice soft but firm, your gaze never leaving his.

"Jungkook, you got me here tonight. You asked me to join you. The movie is literally the last thing I care about." Your words settle in the car, quiet but weighty, as though they’ve landed somewhere deep inside his chest.

Jungkook stares into your eyes, the warmth and longing there making his heart ache. His eyes flicker over the familiar details of your face, and it lands on the scar on your head, hidden behind strands of hair. His breath hitches before he finally exhales, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he struggles to find the right words.

"I... I don’t even know where to begin...." he murmurs, closing his eyes momentarily, as if trying to summon the courage. "I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I broke up with you, and if Mingyu didn’t see us together anymore, he’d leave you alone." He opens his eyes slowly, locking them with yours as if he can’t bear to look away now.

"I really thought I was protecting you." He falters again, the weight of his emotions pressing against his chest. "I... I just wanted to keep you safe. That’s what I told myself, anyway. But looking back, I can see how stupid that was. So... so stupid." he adds, his voice breaking slightly.

"I didn’t realize the damage I was doing until you came to my shop that night. It wasn’t until I saw how hurt you were that I finally understood... the full extent of my mistake."

His eyes glisten with regret as he speaks, his voice trembling. "I felt like the biggest idiot. I didn’t even visit you in the hospital. And to make things worse... I was away fighting with Mingyu. Part of me still believes he deserved it, but I made a promise to you, Y/n, that I wouldn’t let myself get into fights... and I broke that promise."

Jungkook pauses, the silence stretching between you as the weight of his words settles deeper in the air. His breath is unsteady, his chest rising and falling, and you can feel the tremor in his hand as it reaches for yours, the touch tentative and unsure, as if afraid you might pull away.

"When I saw what those guys did to your shop... when I heard about you in the hospital... all I could think about was how I... how I led you into all this misery. How I added so many problems to your life." he murmurs, his voice thick with guilt and regret.

"I felt... so guilty. And I thought that maybe, the best thing I could do was let you go. To set you free from all the pain, the stress, the problems... even though it tore me apart inside."

His grip on your hand tightens, the warmth of his touch desperate, as though holding onto you is the only thing grounding him. His eyes, filled with shame, never leave yours. "I thought that was the only way. That if I stepped back, you'd be better off. But now... now I see how wrong I was. So... so fucking wrong."

A tear slips down your cheek, and despite the pain in his words, your heart aches for him. You want to tell him how wrong he is, how you could never be better off without him, how being apart from him feels like the worst kind of torment. But you hold your silence, letting him speak, letting him pour his heart out.

"I love you. I always have... ever since we got together, a part of me realized what I feel for you... is just... so much more." Jungkook continues, his voice strained. His eyes meet yours again, this time soft and tender, like he’s asking for forgiveness without speaking the words.

"Y/n... I know I messed up. I’ve been reckless. My stupid actions, my irrational decisions... they were all driven by fear, not logic. And in the process, I hurt you." His voice cracks as he takes a deep breath, the pain in his chest evident. "I thought I was the reason for everything going wrong. That it was all my fault. And that thought... it just destroyed me."

His thumb gently brushes over your knuckles, as if he needs that small, silent touch to remind him you're still here. His gaze never wavers from yours, his heart laid bare and raw. "But now I know. In the name of trying to protect you, I ended up hurting you the most... and I will always, always hate myself for it."

The sincerity in his voice, the rawness in his expression, pierces through the tension in the air. And in that moment, it’s clear... Jungkook is not just apologizing. He's laying his soul out before you, vulnerable and broken, desperate for you to understand the depth of his remorse.

"I'm sorry, Y/n." Jungkook finally chokes out, his tears falling freely now. "I'm sorry for everything. I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t. I’m just... so sorry for everything." His voice breaks as the weight of his remorse crashes down, and he crumples under the enormity of it.

He cries, his shoulders shuddering, and through your own blurry vision, you see the raw vulnerability etched across his face. It’s almost unbearable.

Carefully, you move your hand from his and reach out for him. Your palm gently presses against his cheek as your thumb softly wipes away his tears. "Shh..." you murmur, leaning closer towards him.

The space between you feels like it vanishes as you slide your arm around his trembling shoulders, pulling him into a comforting embrace. Jungkook doesn't hesitate as he clings to you desperately, his arms wrapping around you as if you’re his lifeline. Both of you pull each other closer, the familiar embrace engulfing the two of you.

"I’m sorry." he whispers again, his voice muffled as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You feel the dampness of his tears soaking into the fabric of your top, but you don’t care.

All that matters now is the way his trembling form feels in your arms, vulnerable and seeking solace. You hold him tighter, your hand stroking his back in gentle, soothing circles as he sobs against you.

"Please... please take me back." he begs between ragged breaths. "I'll be... I'll be good to you. I’ll stay by your side, and I’ll never, ever leave you alone again." His voice cracks, each word drenched in desperation.

You continue stroking his back, letting him cry into your embrace, your own heart aching at how broken he sounds. "Please, Y/n." he pleads, his voice trembling with hope and fear. "Please tell me you still love me."

"I do... I do love you, Kook." you respond almost instantly, the words spilling from your lips before you even realize it. There’s no hesitation, no doubt. Just the truth. "How could I ever stop?" you whisper, your voice soft but steady.

Jungkook’s breath hitches, and his arms tighten around you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He tugs you closer, bridging whatever small gap still exists between you, the console between your seats now inconsequential. His tears fall harder, but his sobs quiet just a little, as if your words had patched a part of the gaping hole in his heart.

//

As the ending credits roll and the movie comes to an end, you glance down at your intertwined fingers resting on your lap. You lift your gaze to him, only to find his eyes already on you.

Both of you take in the sight of each other... red, puffy eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, swollen lips. Despite the emotional wreckage, a soft chuckle escapes your lips, and Jungkook follows suit with a faint laugh of his own.

"I missed you." he whispers, his voice hoarse but steady, his grip on your hand tightening as though to anchor himself to this moment. "I missed you too." you reply, lifting his hand to your lips. You place a gentle kiss on his knuckles, the warmth of the gesture carrying all the words you can’t seem to form just yet.

Silence stretches between you, but it isn’t uncomfortable. It feels like a pause before a fragile moment you both want to hold onto for just a little longer. "I could never be better off without you, Kook." you suddenly confess, breaking the quiet.

"These past few days have been a living hell for me." Your voice wavers, but you push through. "I understood your intentions... I really did. But all I ever needed was you. Just you. To hold me, to tell me everything would be okay, even if it wasn’t. That’s all I wanted."

Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. He nods slowly, his glistening eyes brimming with understanding. "I know." he murmurs, his voice breaking slightly. "I know now. Yoongi hyung... he gave me a piece of his mind. He made me realize how wrong I was. How what you needed wasn’t someone to push you away in the name of protection, but someone who would stay. Someone who would stand by you when everything felt like it was falling apart."

A faint smile graces your lips as you hear his words. "He’s right." you whisper, your voice soft but resolute. Jungkook smiles in return, a small, fragile smile that carries the weight of his regret, the depth of his sorrow, and the immensity of his love.

Leaning over the console, you close the distance between you and press a gentle kiss to his lips. The kiss is soft, lingering, a balm to the wounds you’ve both carried. "I love you." you whisper against his lips, your voice barely audible but loud enough for him to hear the sincerity in your words.

Jungkook looks into your eyes and for a moment, it feels like his entire world revolves around you. You see the way his love for you shines through, raw and unfiltered, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

When you lean back into your seat, Jungkook doesn’t let you go. This time, he leans forward, his hand cradling your cheek as he captures your lips in another kiss.

But this kiss... this kiss is unlike anything else. It’s not gentle, not cautious. It’s raw, consuming, and electric, charged with everything Jungkook has been holding back for far too long.

Regret seeps through his touch, sorrow lingers in the way his lips move against yours, but it’s love... overwhelming, all-encompassing love that takes over, folding you both into its intensity. And in that wordless exchange, there’s a promise, one you can feel in every breathless second.

You reach out instinctively, grabbing his wrist to steady yourself as the kiss deepens. The console between you feels like a meaningless barrier as Jungkook’s hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks with a tenderness that contrasts the ferocity of his kiss.

He tilts his head, his nose grazing against yours, and the sensation sends a shiver racing down your spine. Your lips part slightly, inviting him in, and he doesn’t hesitate... his tongue brushes against yours, the intimacy making your head spin.

It’s dizzying, intoxicating, as though he’s trying to pour years worth of love, loss, and longing into this one moment. Every press of his lips feels like an apology, a plea for forgiveness, and a declaration all at once.

Your chest heaves as you match his fervor, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You can feel the desperation in the way he holds you, as if letting go would shatter the fragile thread binding you both together again.

When he abruptly pulls away, his breath comes in ragged gasps, his forehead resting against yours. "If we… if we keep going, I won’t be able to stop." he confesses, his voice low and trembling with restraint. "I’ve missed you too much, Y/n... I've missed you way too much."

Your heart pounds against your ribcage, his words igniting a fire within you. You lick your lips, tasting him there, and your gaze locks with his. "Let’s go to my place." you whisper, your voice soft but certain.

For a moment, he looks at you, as though trying to convince himself this is real. Then, with a shaky exhale, he nods, his hand slipping from your face to intertwine with yours. He presses a final, lingering kiss to your knuckles before starting the car.

//

You yelp in surprise as Jungkook tumbles onto the mattress with you, his weight pressing you into the softness of the sheets while his lips remain locked with yours. The world spins for a moment, the intensity of the kiss leaving you breathless and disoriented.

He nips at your lower lip, a soft, teasing bite that sends a jolt of electricity through your veins. You can’t help the way your hips instinctively buck upwards, the friction sparking a low groan from deep within his chest.

Your top rides up in the movement, exposing a sliver of your skin to the cool air. His fingertips find their way there, cold against the warmth of your skin, and the contrast makes you shiver.

He helps you take your shirt off and his fingers return to feel your skin, his touch is purposeful yet hesitant. "God, Y/n." he breathes against your lips, his voice hoarse and filled with longing.

His forehead rests against yours for a brief moment, his heavy breaths mingling with your own. "You have no idea how much I’ve missed this... missed you."

His words make your heart clench, and you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back down into another searing kiss. This time, it’s slower, deeper, filled with all the emotion neither of you could put into words.

His hands trail along your sides, reverent in their touch, while his lips leave yours to press a path of soft kisses along your jawline, your neck, and the sensitive spot just below your ear.

Your fingers grip his shoulders, and you can’t help but whisper his name... a plea, a confession, a surrender. And as he murmurs yours in return, his voice thick with emotion, you realize that this isn’t just a reunion, it’s a rebirth. A rebirth of everything this once was.

Jungkook pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes glistening with unspoken words. His thumb brushes tenderly against your cheek as he cups your face, his touch so delicate it feels like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

“This...” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly. “This feels like the first time I’m breathing again, Y/n. Like I’ve been holding my breath this whole time without you.” His words hit you with the weight of everything you’ve both endured.

Tears blur your vision, but you blink them away, wanting to see every inch of his face, to commit this moment to memory. “I don’t ever want to lose this again.” you reply softly, your voice cracking as you reach up to trace the line of his jaw. “I don’t ever want to lose you again, Jungkook.”

His lips curl into the faintest, most heartfelt smile, and he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “You won’t.” he vows, his voice steady now. “I won’t let go. I’ll hold onto you with everything I have, for as long as you’ll let me. I’ll prove it to you every single day.”

His words are a promise, one that you feel in the way his hands tremble slightly as they caress your skin, in the way his lips press against yours with a mixture of passion and reverence.

“I’ll let you.” you whisper back, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. “I’ll let you, as long as you let me hold onto you too.”

He kisses you slow again, as if he’s relishing every second of this rebirth. It’s not just a kiss... it’s an agreement, a merging of two hearts that have finally found their way back to each other.

Jungkook pulls back, his breathing heavy as he rises to his full height. His hands grip the hem of his shirt, and in one fluid motion, he tugs it over his head, tossing it aside without care. The sight makes your breath catch.

You prop yourself on your elbows, your eyes roaming over the expanse of his body, drinking him in like he’s a masterpiece come to life.

The faint sheen of sweat on his skin makes him glimmer faintly, accentuating every dip and curve, the sharp cut of his collarbones, the hard planes of his abs, and the faint v-line that disappears teasingly beneath the waistband of his boxers.

Your eyes linger on the way his jeans hang low on his hips, revealing just a sliver of the waistband of his boxers, and your throat tightens. You missed seeing him like this.

Jungkook catches the way your gaze darkens, and his lips quirk up in a faint smirk, though his own composure wavers when he sees the way you’re looking at him... like he’s the only thing that matters.

His dark eyes flicker down to you, taking their time as they trace the delicate curve of your collarbones, the way your bra frames your breasts, pushing them up just enough to make his mouth water. His gaze drops to your stomach, the smooth expanse of your skin, and the way your muscles tense under his scrutiny.

He exhales sharply, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as his gaze trails back up to your lips, then your eyes, his resolve crumbling. Your beauty just cannot be comprehended and his jeans suddenly feel unbearably tight, the outline of his hardened length pressing against the fabric painfully.

“Fuck...” he mutters under his breath, his voice low and strained, and you see the way his jaw tightens, the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. "If you keep looking at me like that..." he pauses, his eyes fixed on yours. "I'm going to lose it."

You gulp at his words and watch the way he steps back slightly, his hands moving to the button of his jeans. You watch as he undoes them with practiced ease, sliding the denim down his legs.

The thin fabric of his boxers does little to hide the extremely prominent bulge beneath, and your breath hitches as your eyes lock onto the way his hardened length strains against the material.

With one swift motion, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slides them down, letting them pool at his feet. His length springs free, thick and hard, and your mouth goes dry at the sight of him... veined and heavy, the tip glistening faintly in the dim light.

Jungkook’s chest heaves as he takes a step closer, his hands moving to your legs. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down along with your underwear in one smooth motion.

“Fuck, Y/n... look at you.” he breathes, his voice almost reverent. His gaze locks onto your glistening core, the way it clenches around nothing, slick with arousal that almost drips onto the sheets. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth, his pupils blown wide as he takes in the sight before him.

His hands tremble slightly as they settle on your thighs, his thumbs brushing over your skin. “You’re... perfect.” he whispers as he leans in, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he takes a deep, shaky breath, the scent of your arousal making his head spin.

You whimper at the way he delicately touches you as you close your eyes, pressing your head against the mattress and your hands grasping for purchase on the sheets. "Fuck, Y/n…" he mumbles, his breath ghosting over your core and making you shiver. "Please... let me... let me taste you."

And before you can even form a coherent thought, he pulls your thighs apart and jerks you close until he’s right there, between your legs, his hot breath fluttering over your soaking wet core. “My gorgeous girl.” he murmurs, his eyes flickering up to yours as he drags a thumb through your folds.

He watches the way you bite onto your lower lip, your sweaty chest heaving, as he moves his hands up and down your slit. He notices the way you flinch at every movement, every touch. “So wet... So wet for me.” he groans, his thumb pressing against your clit.

Your jaw hangs open at the sensation and Jungkook wastes no time, diving in and pressing his open mouth to your slick center. You feel his tongue darting out, the wet glide of it sending sparks up your spine as he licks a slow circle around your clit.

“Fuck....” you cry out, your hips jerking as his tongue teases your bundle of nerves, the rough drag of it on your oversensitive flesh making you see stars. Your hands fly to his hair, tugging at the strands as you try to hold yourself up, your head spinning with the sensations flooding through you.

Jungkook moans into you, his tongue flickering out again, this time dragging slowly along your slit. He nuzzles into you, inhaling sharply at your scent, and you feel his nose press into your folds, his breath hot against your core.

“Oh fuck.” you pant, your legs shaking as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy, his tongue sneaking out to flick at your clit, the tip of it fluttering against the sensitive bundle of nerves with a feather-light touch.

Your thighs begin to quake as Jungkook laves you open-mouthed, his mouth hovering over your slit, his tongue lapping at your entrance. "Kook… please... Kook..." you plead, your voice cracking with need.

He looks up at you then as his mouth remains fixed on your core, and the sight takes your breath away. His eyes are heavy-lidded as he watches you. Your lips part, your breaths coming in short pants as he opens his mouth wider, devouring your opening.

His tongue darts out, the wet tip of it flicking over your entrance, and then he’s pushing inside, his mouth closing around you as he eats you out like he’s a starving man and you’re the only sustenance that will satisfy him.

"Fuck, Kook !!" you cry out, your hands scrabbling at the sheets as your head falls back and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You moan, your thighs trembling around his head as he fucks into you with his tongue, his mouth pressed open-mouthed against your core.

Jungkook groans into you, the vibrations making you cry out again as he licks into you, his hands holding you open as he feasts on you. His tongue flickers inside you, curling as it brushes against your inner walls, the sensation of it making your vision blur.

He eats you out for what feels like an eternity, his tongue sliding in and out of you in slow, sensual strokes. You’re close, so close to the edge, your pussy clenching and aching for more.

The way his name falls from your lips, over and over, like a mantra, sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine. His tongue moves against you with practiced precision, each stroke and flick timed perfectly to the rhythm of your desperate cries.

When your legs begin to tremble uncontrollably, your hips bucking against his mouth, he knows you’re close, teetering on the edge of release.

And then it happens. Your orgasm crashes into you with the force of a tidal wave, leaving you gasping for air, your thighs trembling around his head as you arch off the bed. Jungkook groans against you, the vibrations only intensifying your pleasure as his tongue delves deeper, tasting every bit of you.

The tight flutter of your walls around his tongue drives him to the brink of madness. He’s painfully hard now, the strain unbearable as he grips himself, stroking his dick in time with your cries.

His breaths come out in ragged groans, muffled by the way your legs tighten around his head, your hands tangling in his hair and tugging just hard enough to make him growl.

“You’re perfect.” he murmurs against you, his voice husky and reverent, though he doesn’t stop. His tongue moves in long, slow laps, consuming you, drawing out every second of your release as your body quivers beneath him.

When you finally begin to come down, your body going limp and pliant, he doesn’t immediately pull away. He kisses you there, soft and tender, his lips pressing against your sensitive core as if to soothe the aftershocks coursing through you.

Jungkook rests his forehead against your thigh, his breathing heavy and labored as he looks up at you with hooded eyes. His lips are glistening, his cheeks flushed, and the sight of him... disheveled and utterly wrecked from pleasuring you, makes you want him even more.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, the sheen of your pleasure still glistening on his lips. His eyes meet yours, dark and smoldering with an unrelenting hunger that sends shivers coursing through your body.

Slowly, he leans forward, his lips brushing against your trembling thighs as though in reverence. His hands roam your hips, fingers pressing into the soft curves with a gentle possessiveness that leaves no doubt of his intentions.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, tinged with awe, as if the sight of you unraveled beneath him is almost too much to bear.

He shifts his weight, moving away from your core, and you feel the absence of his heat like a loss. But then he’s hovering over you, his face so close you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin.

He captures your lips in a kiss that’s tender yet consuming, a prelude to everything he’s holding back. When he pulls away, it’s only to let his lips travel, a slow, meandering path along your jawline, each kiss lingering and full of love.

“I want to make love to you, Y/n.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, yet the weight of his words presses into you as though they carry the force of a promise. “Let me make it up to you… for everything. Let me show you how much I love you.”

He doesn’t rush as he works to undo your bra, his hands steady. When the fabric falls away, his gaze locks onto your bare chest, and the intensity in his eyes makes your skin prickle with heat. His hands come up to cradle your breast, his thumbs brushing over the delicate curve of your skin and your nipple as though testing the reality of your softness beneath his touch.

“You’re perfect.” he breathes, the words spilling out like a confession before he lowers his head. His lips press against the swell of your breast, trailing kisses that are soft at first but grow more urgent as his need deepens.

His mouth finds your nipple, and he takes it between his lips, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak in a rhythm that makes your breath hitch. His teeth graze ever so slightly, just enough to send a spark of pleasure rippling through you, and you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair to hold him closer.

“Oh, God.” you moan, your voice trembling as he sucks on your nipple, his mouth working in perfect harmony with the hand that kneads and squeezes your other breast. His palm is warm, his touch firm but gentle, matching the worshipful pace of his lips.

Jungkook groans softly against your skin, the sound vibrating through you and adding another layer to the heady mix of sensations. He switches sides, lavishing the same attention on your other breast, and the deliberate care he takes makes your chest heave beneath him.

“Every inch of you...” he murmurs between kisses, his voice ragged and filled with adoration. “Every inch of you is mine to love.”

His words, his touch, the heat of his mouth... it’s all-consuming, drowning you in a storm of sensations that leave no room for thought, only the overwhelming awareness of him.

Your fingers clutch onto his shoulders as you arch against him, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Jungkook’s worshipful attention feels like a drug, intoxicating and overwhelming, and the heat pooling in your core is undeniable.

“Kook…” Your voice is shaky, a whispered plea, laced with desire and desperation. “Please… Please make love to me. I need you.”

The words ignite something primal in him. He pulls away from your chest, his lips glistening, a thin string of saliva trailing down his chin. His dark eyes fixate on you as you let your hands trail over your own body, fingers grazing the sensitive peaks of your breasts. You spread the remnants of his kisses over your skin, the gesture both sensual and wanton.

Jungkook gulps audibly as he watches you and his restraint shatters, his body thrumming with the need to claim you, to pour all his love and longing into this moment.

He shifts, stretching down the edge of the bed, his hands fumbling for his pants that remains scattered on the floor. His wallet slips out, and as he opens it, relief washes over him when he finds the condom he had tucked away weeks ago, back when you were still in his life.

He doesn’t question the serendipity, silently thanking the universe for this moment, for you.

With swift precision, he tears the wrapper, his fingers steady despite the fire coursing through his veins. He rolls the condom over his length and glides his hand up and down his hardness. Stroking it to full readiness, he lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes lifting to meet yours.

The way you’re watching him... your lips parted, your chest heaving, your legs spread in invitation, leaves him utterly undone. “Y/n…” he murmurs, crawling back towards you, his hands finding purchase on your hips. “I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”

"Show me, Kook..." you moan, your voice trembling with anticipation as his tip teases your slick folds. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, and instinctively, you spread your legs wider, welcoming him, inviting him. He adjusts himself, his arms bracketing your head, his elbows pressed into the mattress to hold himself steady.

"I'm all... I'm all yours." you whisper, your voice breaking slightly, the vulnerability of your words hanging in the charged air between you. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as you crane your neck, desperate to feel his lips on yours.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s both tender and consuming. His hand leaves the mattress, strong fingers gripping your hip as he adjusts your position slightly, angling you just right.

The intimacy of the touch makes your heart race, and you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the tension in his muscles as he restrains himself to not just slam into you. “You’re so perfect.” he murmurs against your lips.

His hand squeezes your hip gently as if grounding himself in the reality of you beneath him, of this moment. When he finally begins to push into you, the world seems to narrow down to just the two of you... the stretch, the way he fills you, the way he watches your face, searching for any sign of discomfort.

You gasp softly, your body tensing for a moment before relaxing into the pleasure of being connected to him in the most intimate way. Jungkook groans, his forehead dropping to rest against yours.

"Oh baby... I missed you... fuck..." he moans, his voice strained with effort, his breaths shallow as he inches deeper, giving you time to adjust to him. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him on.

Finally, he begins to move, each thrust slow and steady, as if he’s memorizing the way your body feels wrapped around him. His full length slides into you with precision, the stretch overwhelming yet addictive.

Your noses brush against each other with every movement, breaths mingling as he maintains his rhythmic pace, taking in every push, every thrust, every deep plunge that leaves you gasping for more.

Each time, he pulls out almost entirely, leaving you aching with the emptiness, only to push back in, filling you completely, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. It’s intoxicating, the way he moves, the care and passion in every motion.

As he continues, his gaze flickers over your face, watching the way your lips part with each gasp, the way your eyes flutter closed when the pleasure crests higher. He swallows hard, his resolve faltering for a moment before he adjusts his position. Carefully, he lifts one of your legs from his waist, guiding it to rest on his shoulder.

The new angle sends him deeper, hitting a spot within you that makes you cry out, your back arching off the bed as your fingers dig into his biceps. “Oh, Kook...” you whimper, your voice trembling as he leans into you, his body pressing you further into the mattress.

"That's it..." he murmurs, his voice rough with restraint as he watches your every reaction while supporting your leg on his shoulder. “You take me so well, baby....so... so fucking perfect.”

His other hand trails down to your hip, gripping it firmly as he begins to thrust a little harder, a little deeper, the pleasure building with every motion. The intensity grows, but he still takes his time, as if he’s savoring every second, every sound you make, every shiver that runs through your body.

The way he fills you, the stretch of your leg over his shoulder, the tender yet passionate way he moves... it’s overwhelming in the best way. Your hands slide down his arms, clutching at him desperately as he drives you closer to the edge, his pace unrelenting yet perfectly controlled.

“Jungkook...” you moan, your voice breaking as the tension in your core coils tighter and tighter. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and he tilts his head, pressing a kiss to your ankle. “Faster… please… faster...” you cry out, your plea trembling in the air.

That’s all it takes for him to lose the last shred of restraint. With a growl low in his throat, he pulls you closer, his hands gripping your hips possessively as his pace shifts. His hips snap into you, each thrust harder and deeper.

Seconds blur into a haze of overwhelming sensation as he rams into you repeatedly, his tip brushing against a spot deep inside you... a spot you didn’t even know existed. The pleasure is all-consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs as your body arches into him, desperate for more.

Your vision blurs as you’re overtaken by the intensity, stars dancing behind your closed lids. “I love you… fuck, I love you so much.” he rasps, his voice raw with emotion and unfiltered passion. His hips move with an almost animalistic urgency now, his need for you reflected in every powerful thrust, in the way he fills you completely, over and over again.

The coil in your stomach tightens to the point of pain, an unbearable pressure building with every movement. Your hands claw at his shoulders, your head tossing back against the pillows as incoherent sounds pour from your lips, your body trembling beneath him.

“Jungkook… I’m… oh god…” you whimper, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure pushes you to the brink, teetering on the edge of release that feels as though it might shatter you entirely.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, holding onto him as if he’s the only thing keeping you together. He groans at the sting of your touch, his hips slamming into you harder, deeper, as if he’s chasing the very essence of you.

“You’re... you're close, aren’t you?” he pants, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand slips between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen, sensitive clit. He presses down with just the right amount of pressure, moving in firm circles that make your entire body jolt.

The combination of his thrusts and the attention on your clit sends you spiraling. Your legs tremble around him, and your walls flutter and clench tightly around his length. You cry out, your voice echoing in the room, your hands pulling him closer as if you want to fuse yourself to him.

“That’s it, baby... that's it... cum for me... let go.” he urges, his voice strained as he fights to keep himself together, his own release hanging by a thread. His thrusts grow erratic, each one deeper, harder, more consuming than the last, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

And then it happens. The coil in your stomach snaps, your orgasm crashing into you with a force that steals your breath. Your vision goes white, your entire body arching into him as waves of ecstasy ripple through you, leaving you trembling and crying out his name like a prayer.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Jungkook groans as your walls tighten around him, gripping him like a vice. The sensation sends him over the edge. He buries himself as deep as he can go, his hips stilling as his own release takes over, his groans blending with your cries.

The two of you ride out the aftershocks together, his forehead pressed to yours as your breathing mingles, heavy and uneven. The world feels still, the only sound in the room your shared pants and the faint thrum of your hearts, beating in perfect sync.

//

The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a golden hue over your room, as your head rests on his bicep. Your fingers absentmindedly play with his as your eyes trace the intricate lines of his tattoos, the delicate patterns swirling along his forearm.

After the intimacy of a warm shower and the tender care Jungkook showed you, the two of you are back on the freshly made bed. The clean, cool sheets are a stark contrast to the heat that still lingers between you, your bare skin pressed to his.

His leg lazily drapes over yours beneath the blanket, an unconscious gesture that speaks of his need to be as close to you as possible.

Jungkook leans in, the weight of his gaze melting away any lingering tension. He presses a kiss to your temple, soft and lingering, before letting his lips brush against the scar on your head... a mark of something from the past, but no longer painful. “I love you.” he whispers, his voice low and full of sincerity.

You tilt your head back to meet his eyes, your own gaze softening. Slowly, you let go of his hand, shifting your body to face him fully. The blanket shifts with you as you wrap an arm around his torso, pulling yourself closer to him.

“I love you too.” you murmur, your voice steady, carrying the weight of your feelings. You move your head closer to his chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. His arms encircle you, tugging you closer and holding you as though he never wants to let go.

And in that moment, as the soft embrace of sleep slowly begins to claim both of you, there is a quiet realization that settles in the spaces between your breaths. It’s as though the universe, in its infinite wisdom, has woven the intricate threads of time, bringing you here.

From the days when you were nothing more than neighboring shop owners, each a stranger in the other’s world, to the sharp edges of misunderstandings, to the heated arguments that filled the air with tension. You both once couldn’t stand the mere sight of each other... two souls so different, so distant.

But somehow, through all of that, life found a way to stitch your paths together. From those moments of rivalry at the town fair meetings, when every second seemed to breed another reason for dispute, to this quiet, intimate space where the mere thought of separation feels impossible.

Now, neither of you can seem to imagine a world where the other doesn’t exist. It’s as though your lives were always meant to be interwoven, intricately and beautifully, like the finest of tapestries.

Life has a strange way of bringing two opposing forces together, testing them in ways they never expected, only to reveal the most beautiful of connections.

It pushes and pulls, and in doing so, helps them untangle the complexities of their relationship. It compels them to find the purpose behind their presence in each other’s life... why it was always meant to be, why the stars aligned, even when they didn’t know what they were meant to see.

And through the rough roads, where his rusty bike and prickly tires rattled against the cobblestones, and through the vibrant scent of flowers that lingered in the air, the softness of leaves brushing against your fingers, you both have found something more profound and beautiful than you could ever imagine.

Something that only exists when two souls, through time and struggle, find each other and discover the home they never knew they were looking for.

Post Credits Scene

Yoongi stands in the dimly lit alley, the old baseball racket twirling lazily in his hand. Mingyu, Kihyun, and Jaemin are slumped against the cold brick wall, their faces battered, their hair disheveled, fear radiating from their wide eyes.

The faint hum of a flickering streetlight overhead makes the silence between them even heavier. Yoongi crouches down, his sharp gaze locking onto theirs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “What did I say?” he asks, his voice calm but dripping with menace.

The men exchange nervous glances, their bruised faces pale under the weak light. Mingyu opens his mouth to respond, but a sharp pang from his injured ankle makes him wince and falter. Yoongi tilts his head, his smirk widening as he taps the racket lightly against the ground. “I’m waiting.” he says, his tone almost teasing.

“Never...” Mingyu manages, his voice hoarse, but the pain makes it hard to continue. “Go on...” Yoongi urges, his voice dropping an octave, the smirk now a warning.

“We’ll never bother Jungkook and Y/n again !!” Kihyun blurts out, his hands rubbing together in a desperate gesture, like he’s begging for mercy. Yoongi rises slowly, letting out a soft chuckle as he swings the racket onto his shoulder, causing all three men to flinch. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The men dare to breathe, thinking the ordeal might finally be over. But Yoongi’s sharp eyes narrow as he steps closer, towering over them. The smirk vanishes, replaced by a cold, calculating look that makes the air feel oppressive.

“Now...” he says, his voice trailing off. “Do I have to beat you guys up all over again, or will you give me Jungkook’s keys?”

<- part 15

—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

series masterlist

my masterlist <3

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[outsideratheart]

“I almost lost you.” with Leah Williamson

Leah Williamson was the woman for you. There was a lot in this world you didn’t know but this is one thing you were sure about.

Throughout the years you have been together you had experienced many ups and downs both on the pitch and off it but there was one moment that stuck out.

Back in 2019 Arsenal got an offer for Lyon that was too good to turn down. Never did you think you would leave Arsenal and your girlfriend but the temptation was there and it filled you with guilt. Talks happened between you and the french team but you kept them a secret from your girlfriend. In the end you chose your relationship over your career.

It’s how you found yourself experiencing an intense case of Deja Vu. For you Arsenal wasn’t the same as it once was and with your contract coming to an end, teams began making offers once again. Only this time you told your manager to reject every single one of them. Maybe your love of the team was deteriorating but your relationship wasn’t. You and Leah had just bought you forever home and you leaving wasn’t part of your 5 year plan.

“Is everything ok?” Leah asked as you walked into the kitchen where she was making herself, and now you, a cup for tea.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Once again you had been asked to stay behind to work do extra training at the request of Jonas.

With the small amount of energy you have left you hoist yourself up onto the kitchen side.

Leah hands you a freshly brewed tea and takes her place between your legs. She watches as you place the cup aside without taking a sip.

“You never turn down a cup for tea. Something must be wrong” Leah slight chuckle soon came to an end when she saw your face drop.

Your mind was screaming in frustration but you remain silent. The only sign of response Leah gets is when you tilt your head back in attempt to avoid eye contact.

“We just need to finish this season and get it over with”

Never had Leah heard you talk about football in such a way. You spoke about it like it was a chore when normally you have a smile that spreads from ear to ear.

“You can leave Y/N. I know that—“ Leah begins to talk but you don’t let her finish her sentence.

“No, no ,no. I’m not leaving, I haven’t even taken any meetings. I promise you Leah, I haven’t”

Leah has known your departure from the club you both grew up in was imminent. She could play for Arsenal until the day she retired but the same could not be said about you. You deserved to reach your full potential and that wouldn’t happen at Arsenal.

“I know about the offers” Leah hands rub up and down your thighs. She watched as you visibly tense up at the mention of other clubs.

“I turned them down straight away”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have”

“It was the right decision for our future. Last time I…..I almost lost you”

It wasn’t an easy thing to remember. You and Leah were screaming at each other and it ended with her walking out. She didn’t return to your apartments for 3 days and they were the longest days of your life.

‘Y/N” Leah waited for you to look at her and after a few seconds you did “It wasn’t you moving that did that. It was that you kept it from me”

“I don’t know what to do. I’m not happy at Arsenal but I know that I’ll be even more miserable if I am away from you”

“What we are going to do is talk about it. You are going to be honest with me about how you are feeling and then you can tell me which city I will be visiting on my days off”

“I’ll grab the biscuits, you grab the drinks?” You ask with a smirk on your face.

“Sure” Leah steals a quick kiss “See, we will still be a team off the pitch”

[callsign-dexter]

Forever Yours 18+

Request: How are we feeling about Tim Bradford meeting his high school girlfriend again as he's on patrol with Lucy and gets all flustered again cause you're the one for him (like you separated ways as he went to the police and you did something else but are back now) and you just feel the same old feelings. Later Lucy won't stop making fun of him cause he's always badass and now you seem to be his weak spot. Next day you visit him at the department with his favorite food and he asks you out on a date which you gladly accept. Just some fluffy cute Tim, with maaaaaybe smut at the end of their date and he won't let her leave him ever again? 😊 

Next week is my bday, so I thought some Tim would be adorable !

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Teacher!Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, pregnancy

Masterlist

A/N: Happy birthday or belated birthday to the anon that sent this in!

A/N 2: @talesofreading and @imagine-all-the-fandoms some steamy Tim smut for you!

Los Angeles. You never thought you would come back here but after being away for so long you were itching to come back. Most importantly you were missing your high school crush and boyfriend, Tim Bradford. You two only split when he decided to go into the military and you wanted to become a teacher. It was a mutual break up but man did it still hurt. You two had lost contact and both of you had been too busy to try and reconnect with each other but now you were back having gotten your teaching degree and took the position as a first-grade teacher. You loved kids and they seemed to be drawn to you. It was really your true calling.

Last you heard of Tim was that he had gotten out of the military and had gone to the police academy, was married but then got divorced and he was working as a TO for LAPD. You heard all of this through his sister that you were best friends with. You had wanted to get in contact with him but school and kids kept you busy so you just let it go.

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The new school year was just about to start and you were excited. A few weeks before you had gone in and set up the classroom how you wanted and then started to figure out teaching material. A week before school actually starts you would be meeting the students and their parents for the first time. Overall, you were excited and couldn’t wait.

There was one week before school and you had gotten there early to start meeting the students and parents. The time had started and the students and parents started to slowly trickle in. Everyone you met were friendly and some of the dads even tried to flirt with you but you just smiled and continued on. You had your mind on one person and that was Tim Bradford. 

It was finally the end of the day and you were exhausted but you had a lot of fun and loved seeing the kids. You made sure everything was in order and everything was cleaned then you were walking you out of the classroom and locking the door behind you. You left the school with a smile on your face. You couldn’t wait for Friday next week. 

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Your alarm on Friday went off early and you were getting up with a smile on your face. You turned it off and got in the shower and brushed your teeth. You walked out into your room in just a towel and started to get dressed. As you were doing so your cat, Biscuit, walked in and jumped on the bed and meowed at you, you turned and gave him some love and then you were back to getting ready. When you were done in there you walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where your German Shepherd, Steel, greeted you. You gave Steel his food and then fed Biscuit and now you were getting yourself coffee as it was brewing you let Steel out and then when he was done, he was at the door wanting back in. You finished getting ready to leave the house. The coffee chimed when it was done and you grabbed the travel mug and headed out to your blue Toyota Tacoma.

It was a quick drive to the school and you got there with no trouble. As you were driving you looked like Tim but you were too busy paying attention to the road. You pulled into the parking lot and into the parking lot for the teachers. You parked and turned the engine off and then you were getting out and grabbing your bag. As you were walking into the building you greeted some of the other staff who were all so friendly and that made you smile. 

You walked to your room and unlocked it and started to get everything ready for the day. About 7:50 AM students started to trickle in and you were at the door greeting everyone. Once everyone was in you closed the door and walked to the front of the classroom smiling and made sure everyone was sitting down. “Good morning, kiddos. My name is Ms. Y/L/N and I’m gonna be your teacher for this year. I’m excited to learn about each and every one of you and I can’t wait for the fun things I have planned for you all. It’s going to be a fun year. Now does anyone have questions for me or about me?” You asked and a few raised their hands. You looked over at them and smiled “Benson, what is your question?” You asked.

“Do you have any animals?” He asked with sweet innocent eyes and you smiled.

“I do, I have a dog named Steel and a cat named Biscuit.” You said

“Do you have pictures?” He asked and you smiled and pulled up a picture of your animals. 

The rest of the morning went without a hitch. When they were at lunch you smiled and sat in your room thinking about what the plan was for the second half of the day. You were scrolling through your email and noticed there was going to be a fire drill and that they were going to bring the fire trucks, ambulances, and police in. 

All the kids were back and you let them know what was going to be happening and you assured them that there was nothing to be afraid of and it was all a drill. Some still seemed scared so you said that they could come to you if they got too scared and that seemed like that helped ease them up a little bit. For now, the day went like normal and it would be happening close to the end of the day.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Did you hear that we have to go to the elementary school for a fire drill?” Lucy said as she and Tim were driving around making calls and making sure everything was good to go.

“Yes, I did.” Tim said, making his response short.

“How do you feel about that?” She asked

“I’m fine with it. It lets kids see the importance of what we do.” He said and she nodded seeing that he wasn’t up for any more discussing it. While they were waiting to be called to the school Tim was thinking about you and where you were. You were his high school love and he never stopped loving you even when he was married, he wanted to get back into contact with you but never seemed able to find the time but boy was he in or a surprise today. The time came and they were heading to the school along with the ambulance, firefighters, and two other shops. The point of this was to first have a fire drill and then show the importance of the first responders. Tim parked next to Talia and Nolan’s car and they headed over to the kids. Everyone was answering questions and then something, more like someone, caught Tim’s eye. He looked closer and it was you. You were bent down talking to a kid who was crying and you were trying to console them but it wasn’t working and so you picked the kid up and let them cry into your neck. He needed to see you and talk to you. “I’ll be right back.” He told Lucy and then was gone before she could say anything. 

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“Hey, shhhhhh. You’re ok.” You said consoling the little boy. You were bouncing them around trying to soothe him. You didn’t even know Tim was walking up to you. “It’s nothing to be scared about. It just means that it helps on the way and they save people.” You said and he came out from your neck and sniffled.

“Really?” He asked and you smiled and were about to answer but a familiar male voice answered before for you.

“Absolutely. It means that we are on our way to save you.” Tim said and you looked up and saw him and the little boy looked at him.

“Really?” He asked and Tim smiled.

“Yup, my fellow officer John Nolan will be happy to show you and talk to you about it.” He said and then pointed over to him “He is right over there.” Tim said and the boy sniffled and nodded and you sat him down and watched him scamper off to John. Making sure he was safe before turning to Tim smiling. “You've always been so good with kids.” He said and you chuckled.

“You have too. One of the many reasons I fell in love with you.” You said and he smiled and looked down. 

“It's been a while.” He said looking up at you and you nodded agreeing.

“Too long and that is my fault.” You said and his smile turned into a frown and he shook his head.

“No. That is not true. I'm the one that took off and didn't even try to contact.” He said and you shook your head.

“I'm to blame too.” You said and once again he was denying it. 

“We can discuss this over dinner.” He said and you looked at him.

“Like a date?” You asked 

“Exactly like that. My number is the same if you wanted to text me anytime.” He said and you smiled and nodded.

“Mine is too.” You said 

“Ms. Y/L/N! She hit me!” Your student, Amber, said pointing to another student, Emma, as they ran up to you. You looked at Tim and he smiled and nodded. You bent down to the two girls. You walked back over to Lucy and the others watching you handle the situation with a smile. All he could think about was how you would deal with your and his kids and that put a smile on his face.

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Tim walked back over to the group smiling. “Is The Tim Bradford actually smiling?” Lucy asked and everyone turned to see and he actually started to blush.

“He's blushing!” Angela said with a smile. 

“I am not.” He said and tried to stop but he just saw the love of his life again. 

“You so are! Is it because of that teacher you were flirting with?” Lucy asked and he didn't say anything and then the radio saved him and then he was quick to answer it. 

“Come on Boot. We have work to do.” Tim said and walked over to his shop and she quickly followed behind him. When they got back to the shop his phone dinged and he was quick to pull it out and smiled when he saw it was you. Lucy took notice of this and she smirked.

“Is that her?” Lucy asked and Tim was quick to drop the smile and look at her.

“It’s none of your business.” He said and she rolled her eyes but smirked when she looked away, he was smiling and was quick to send a reply back and it was back to work for the both of you.

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You and Tim had been talking all week and the same old feelings were coming back. Saturday rolled around and you found out he was working and you decided to bring him and his coworkers. You loved baking and Tim knew this. You parked in a parking spot and then walked into the police station smiling. You greeted the front desk person and they smiled. “What can I do for you?” She asked.

“I’m here to see Tim Bradford.” You said and she smiled and then she paged him and he was coming down in time.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asked and you smiled and turned to him.

“Well, you mentioned you were working today and thought you and your coworkers could use some baked goods.” You said and he smiled.

“Come on.” He said and you walked with him into where everyone was. It looked like they were just in for lunch. “Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Angela, Talia, Lucy, Jackson, and Nolan.” He said and everyone waved as they were introduced.

“Nice to meet you all.” You said “I figured you all could use some goodies.” You said you waved your basket.

“Her cookies are to die for. They are my favorite” Tim said as you set the basket down in the break room. Tim wasn’t looking at anyone but you, everyone was smiling and looking at how lovesick he was and they were happy for him. Everyone got a cookie and they absolutely fell in love with them and they voiced this and that made you smile. “Hey, would you follow me?” He asked you and you nodded and he took your hand and led you to the briefing room.

“What’s up?” You asked as you sat on the edge of one of the tables.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asked and you smiled and nodded.

“I would love to go on a date with you.” You said and that made him smile.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight?” He asked and you once again smiled.

“That sounds perfect.” You said and then you both continued to talk until he had to leave and that was cue now you had to go home and get ready for your date.

7 PM rolled around quickly and before you knew it you were opening the door to a smiling and well-dressed Timothy Bradford. “Wow.” He said and you blushed but Steel was quick to rush the door.

“Steel, off.” You said and he backed up and moved away from the door and that made Tim fall in love with you even more. You made sure to grab your keys, locking the door behind you, and the both of you headed to his truck where he helped you in and then closed the door and walked to the other side and got in and headed to the restaurant that he had picked out that he knew you would love. “So where are we going?” You asked and he smiled.

“It's a surprise but you’re going to love it. They have sushi.” He said when he looked over and saw you were about to say something and then your smile came back. “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry that I didn’t stay in contact.” He said and you shook your head.

“Nonsense. It was my fault too.” You said

“I guess it is both of our faults.” He said and you chuckled but agreed. You both were quick to get to the restaurant and he was quick to park and then was getting out and helping you out. You both walked into the restaurant and he walked up to the receptionist and he was quick to get you seated. You two talked and caught up and just had a delightful time, it was just like old times. You both ordered and now the wait for food has started. 

“I missed you.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“I missed you too. It was hard to go on not knowing how you were but I was too selfish to actually text you.” He said and you nodded looking at him.

“It was hard finding out through your sister about what you were doing but it helped.” You said and he nodded and just then the food came and you both started eating and finished the date and now you were back at your house inviting him. Steel greeted you and so did Biscuit and they immediately fell in love with him and you fell back in love with him, though you never truly fell out of love with him. 

You sat on the couch with a glass of wine, both of your animals had left the room so it was just the both of you, and you both leaned in and now you were kissing him and he was kissing back and neither of you were stopping each other. “Tell me to stop if you want me to stop.” He said when he pulled away and you looked him in the eye.

“I don’t want you to stop.” You said and he smiled.

“I was hoping you were going to say that.” He said and crashed his lips back into yours and he laid you down on the couch. He started to kiss your neck and then got to your sweet spot and gently bit it and that made you moan.

“Tim.” You moaned and he smirked and did it again. You clenched around nothing. You both worked on getting each other clothes off and everything was off in no time in a pile on the floor beside the couch. “I love you.” You said and he trailed down your body peppering it.

“I love you too.” He said in between kisses. He ghosted over nipples giving them equal attention but he knew where you needed him the most. This was not the first time you had sex with this man, he was your first in high school, sure you had sex with other men but nothing compared to him. He still knew how you liked it and knew all the right places to please you. He trailed down to your heated core and was quick to dive in and you moaned out throwing your head back and hands going to his head. He let up for just a second. “We can take this to the bedroom if you want.” He said and you shook your head.

“No, it's perfect here.” You said and he nodded and he was diving back into your pussy licking and sucking on your clit knowing exactly where to use his tongue to please you. “Tim.” You moaned out and bucked your hips towards him and he was quick to hold you down. Your hands left his head and they came up to clutch the couch cushions and your legs spread wider. He started swirling his tongue around your entrance and was tongue fucking you and you felt that rubber band feeling starting to tighten. “‘M close.” You moaned out but he stopped just as soon as you were about to cum. “Tim.” You moaned out in frustration but he was moving up to be face to face with you.

“What?” He asked his breath fanning you and you could smell the wine on this breath.

“I was about to cum.” You said and he smirked.

“You’ll get what you want soon.” He said and kissed you as he rubbed his cock up and down your wet folds and then let up on the kiss as he pushed into you and you both moaned. “See? I told you.” He said and all you did was moan. He stretched you in all the right places and it was like you were back in high school with him all over again. 

“Tim.” You moaned and he smirked, loving the way he made you moan and the way you were gripping him. He started to move and you both moaned out.

“You’re still as tight as ever.” He said and attacked your neck with more kisses and love bites. 

“You ruined all the other guys for me.” You moaned out and he gave a sharp thrust that hit your g-spot perfectly.

“Good.” He said 

“You’re the only one for me.” You said and he gave another sharp thrust and then he started to go faster and you didn’t even have to ask for it. You both wanted this and you both needed it. Everything was perfect. Ever since he started to go faster it was making that rubber band feeling coming back. Each thrust was like heaven and you never wanted it to end. “I’m about to cum.” You moaned out.

“Me too.” He moaned out and picked up his pace and trailed one hand, leaving the other to keep his weight off of you, down to your body to your clit and he started to rub it, flick it, and pinch it all it was doing was making you come closer to the edge. Your orgasm was just right there and so was his. 

“Tim!” You yelled out not caring who heard you. 

“Cum for me.” He said and sent a flick to your clit and leaned down to bite your nipple and then you were seeing stars. Not a few seconds later his thrusts were getting sloppy “I’m gonna cum.” He said and then his hips stilled and he painted your walls right. It was a good thing you were on birth control, you thought as you and Tim came down from your highs. Tim slowly slipped out of you and then got behind you and threw an arm around you. He grabbed the blanket from off the back of the couch and threw it over you both. “I’m never gonna let you leave again.” He said and you smiled and nodded and turned to look at him.

“I’m never going to leave. Ever.” You said and he smiled and leaned down to kiss you. 

“I love you.” He said 

“I love you too.” You replied

You wanted this. You wanted forever with him and he wanted that with you too. You both wanted to marry each other and start a family with each other. Neither of you could wait to finally be with each other forever. You both wanted this since high school and nothing is going to get in the way of you both being together forever, not again. 

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2 years later………

You and Tim had been married for 2 years now and had a 2-year-old son, Dakota. Your son was conceived on the last day of your honeymoon. Now you are 6 months pregnant with your second child, this one being a girl. Your jobs were going great and Tim had just been promoted to Sergeant which meant a bigger paycheck. Now you and Dakota were walking into the precinct to meet with your husband. You had just parked the car and got out and got Dakota out. “Kota, hold my hand when crossing the street.” You said and he nodded.

“Otay momma.” He said and you smiled and ran a hand through his hair, he was the exact copy of his father. You grabbed his hand and the both of you walked across the street and into the precinct.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bradford and Dakota.” The receptionist said and you smiled. 

“Good morning, Veronica.” You said “Tim in?” You asked and she nodded.

“Yup, you know where to find him.” She said and you nodded and then you were heading to him with a hand on your sons and one on your stomach.

“Y/N! Dakota!” Lucy said and you smiled.

“Hello, Lucy.” You said and your son waved at her.

“Tim is in his office.” She said and you smiled and walked to his office. You looked into the room and saw him focusing on his work and you looked down at Dakota.

“Knock, Baby.” You said and he smiled and did so.

“Come in.” He said and you opened the door and you both stepped in.

“Daddy!” Dakota said and he looked up and smiled and walked around his desk and scooped his son up.

“Hello there, handsome. Have you been good for mommy?” He asked and he nodded.

“We went to the store, I helped!” Dakota rambled on and Tim smiled.

“You helped mommy?” He asked and looked at you and you nodded.

“Uh huh. I helped carry!” He said and he smiled.

“That’s my boy.” He said and kissed his cheek and then walked over and kissed you. “How is our little girl doing?” He asked.

“Currently being still for once but using my bladder as a soccer ball a lot.” You said and he chuckled. He put Dakota down and he walked over to the table with toys and coloring books that Tim kept for him. Tim put his hand on your stomach and immediately the baby kicked. “She must know that she has her daddy here.” You said and he chuckled and leaned down to kiss you. 

“Mommy! Daddy! Come help!” Dakota all but shouted and you two broke apart. 

“Ok, we’re coming.” Tim said and you followed him over there and he sat down on the ground and you sat in a chair which he helped you sit in. Tim got into helping Dakota so that you were able to lean back and watch with a smile on your face. This was the dream you always wanted with him and you got it finally after so long. You were married to the man of your dreams, had a son together, and have a daughter on the way. You rubbed your stomach as she kicked and that made you smile.

You were finally happy and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your years with the man of your dreams since high school. They were your world and you wouldn’t trade anything for it. You loved your growing family and you knew Tim did and that made you happy. Tim looked over at you and smiled. “I love you.” You mouthed and he smiled.

“I love you too.” He mouthed and then Dakota was grabbing his attention again and you chuckled, yup you loved little growing family.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

[whimsyfinny]

He's a Winchester

Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, mention of toxic parenting/custody battle, angst, alcohol,

Chapter Word Count: 3471

MDNI 18+

A/N: here it is! I’m not gonna lie, this is going to be very slow burn at first, but don’t worry, you know me and you know how much juicy content I write so it’s definitely coming hahaha. I’m also trying to figure out a schedule for posting this, so hopefully I can upload two chapters a week.

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out. 

Photos from Pinterest

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I reached for the bottle of wine for the third time in the last hour and a half. I was sitting with Kat, pyjamas adorned, in the living room of mine and Levi's modest two bedroom house. For financial (and personal) reasons, our little house didn't follow current trends and looked more like something out of a popular 90s sitcom. The couch was comfy, the blankets were fuzzy, and a fresh pot of coffee was always brewing. Pictures embellished the walls of every milestone Levi had achieved; every birthday party, every new dirt bike, every new hairstyle. There were a few of Kat and I from over the years, going way back to when we first met back in ‘99 and both decided to rock platform heels on at the turn of the millennium - having tiny babies at the time didn't seem to stop us. Every single moment on these walls was a happy memory - something that I would treasure forever, yet there was something missing. There were no photos - or perhaps a scarce few - of my own parents, or of them with Levi, or of any extended family for that matter. The price I paid when I decided to have my son out of wedlock, at barely twenty years old, with a man who my family saw as a total stranger, is a price I'd pay every time in a heartbeat. Kat and Toby were our family now, and that was more than I could ever ask for. That was why the sheer possibility of Levi getting to meet his dad for the first time in, well, ever… it had my mind spinning. It was a scenario I'd dreamt of, late at night when I couldn't sleep and the burdens of life weighed me down. I conjured false memories in my minds eye of the pair of them fixing his bike on the drive or driving to school in the impala. I pictured us having breakfast together as a family and taking trips to the movies. Being together. Because no matter how many dates I went on, or how many frogs I’d kissed over the years, none of them were Levi's father.

None of them were Dean Winchester.

“Girl you have to reach out to him,” Kat walked in from the adjacent kitchen before slumping on the couch next to me, wine glass elevated to reduce spillage.

“Kat I could barely look at him today without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack - how the fuck am I supposed to talk to him?” I glanced at her with wide eyes, every nerve in my body on edge despite the wine and scented candles. Kat sighed. 

“You might never get this opportunity again, and we both know that if you don’t give Levi the opportunity to meet his father then you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” I held my breath, urging the raging storm in my mind to quiet down before letting the air gush from my lungs.

“Yeah I know. I just…I just never thought that this would actually happen, you know? I never thought that Dean would show up here. I figured Levi would eventually track him down when he was old enough to make that decision on his own. I have no idea how to even approach this.”

“Sure you do!” Kat beamed, a wicked glint in her eye, “you sit him down and say, ‘Hey Dean! Remember when we had sex in the back of that amazing car of yours nine years ago? Well, actions have consequences, and yours in eight years old and sitting in his science class right now.’”

I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face and I cackled when the bit of popcorn I threw landed in her wine glass.

“Bitch.”

I blew her a kiss in response to her insult. It didn’t take long though for the distraction to run its course and for my mind to return to its state of panic.

“But seriously, what am I going to say to him? What if I tell him, and he rejects us too, like my family did?”

Her smile softened.

“From everything that you’ve told me about that man, I highly doubt he’s going to reject you. Sure, he might not stick around permanently, but he sounds like the kind of guy that would stay in touch,” her softened smile turned to a stern stare, “but he’s only going to do that if he knows. He deserves to know he has a son.”

I took a long gulp of my wine. 

“Yeah, I’m going to tell him…” I paused, gnawing my bottom lip as I drew my knees to my chest, “it’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m not at work and Levi has two hours at the track. I can try to do it tomorrow, but I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to track Dean down in that time - I have no idea where he could be.”

“Hey, I’ll pick up Levi from Motocross - it’s been a few days since him and Toby have spent any proper time together anyway, just them two. Tobes’ has been dying to show him those brand new boots of his.”

We shared a smile. That’s the thing about Kat; she always had my back, no matter the situation.

“Thanks babes, I owe you one.”

She shook her head.

“No way - this is me returning the favour from when Toby’s dad decided to show an interest in his own child. I’m pretty sure my kid thought you were adopting him at one point from how much he stayed here,” I laughed, remembering the camp bed I bought especially for Toby, along with all the extra duvet sets and boxes of cereal I’d had to purchase for the best part of half a year.

“He’s a good kid, and honestly he and Levi entertained themselves for most of it.”

There was another pause in the conversation as I recounted how difficult it had been for Kat when David had shown up, insisting on being a part of Tobys life despite zero contact since his son was born. They’d argued over custody, over which school he went to, the clubs he attended. Even his hobbies were on the line, with David wanting him to play football despite Toby already being involved down at the track with the bikes. The stress caused Kat to lose weight and sleep, and she nearly lost her job over it all when she kept falling asleep at her desk. I’d lost count of how many times she’d cried in my arms. Cried over a man who thought that practically owning his son was his God given right despite being an absent father, and I think that is what scared me the most. That I would feel the same wretched things that she felt, and the waves of disappointment that crashed over her time and time again when false promises were made. It took her months to settle on an agreement due to David's behaviour, and Toby finally sees his father, albeit only for one weekend a month. It's better than nothing, but certainly not worth the fight that was fought with blood, sweat and tears. 

I hope from the bottom of my heart that Dean takes the news well, and doesn't leave us in the dust like he does in my worst nightmares.

It had taken me around thirty minutes to track down Dean. Well, to at least find the impala. It's common knowledge that if you find that car, Dean isn't far away. I’d parked my truck two spaces down, and luckily we were within walking distance of my favourite café, Jolenes’. It was my safe space. The place that I would finally tell him about Levi.

I pulled the sleeves of my soft cardigan down over my hands to stop myself from chewing nervously on my nails. Leaving the safety of my truck, I paced over to the black Chevy and stood by it, determined to speak to Dean as soon as possible. I knew that if I had stayed sitting behind my own wheel, there was a huge chance that I'd chicken out and just drive away. As I waited I checked over the car in front of me, admiring how he still kept it spotless after all these years. Unable to stop myself, I let my gaze drift over to the backseat, the events that unfurled on the soft leather racing to mind. I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to resist the replay of memories.

“You have good taste in cars.”

I practically launched out my skin as the voice came from behind me. I could hear the amusement in his voice from a few feet away. I spun on my heel and our eyes locked, the charming grin slipping slightly from Deans’ lips when he realised it was me. The playfulness in his features quickly softened, a true, genuine smile now gracing his lips.

“Dean…” I suddenly felt breathless, but despite my nerves I returned his smile in kind.

“It's good to see you (Y/n),” he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his entirety. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and taking a deep breath, my brain tingling at his familiar scent.

“You too, Dean. It's been too long.”

After a moment we released each other and Dean stood up straight, smiling at me again with a soft twinkle in his eye. We both flinched slightly when someone cleared their throat and he took a step back. 

“Oh, uh, (Y/n), this is Sam, my younger brother,” he patted the shoulder of the young man standing beside him, and I instantly recognised him from the dessert parlour. He was tall, taller than Dean even, which was one hell of an accomplishment, and his face held a similar boyish charm to Deans. Yet he looked softer around the edges, like he hadn't been hardened by life too much yet.

“It's a pleasure, I'm (Y/n). I've known you're brother for a while,” I smiled as I shook his hand, taking note of the rough calluses beginning to form on his palms. “He used to talk about you all the time, apparently you're the smart one of the family,” with a grin and a quick glance at Dean, I tested the waters with humour. If he laughed or took the blow like a champ, now was a good time to talk to him. Sam chuckled, squeezing my hand slightly in his before letting it go. 

“Ouch… (Y/n), sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be on my side here? Y’know, with our history and all…?” he feigned hurt with a hand on his chest before his lips twitched up and he shot me a wink.

“I mean… she's not wrong,” Sam laughed, dropping his hands lazily into his pockets.

“Hey, I'm just going on what you told me, Dean. Don't hold that against me,” I grinned at them both, unsure of what to do with my hands so I crossed them across my chest.

A small breath of silence passed between us, Deans’ gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me want to look away. I didn't. Sam cleared his throat again, clapping his hand to Deans’ shoulder before taking a step back.

“I'll, uh, give you guys a few minutes,” and with an appreciative nod from Dean, Sam gave us some space. With his younger brother gone, my heart began to flutter in my chest. The time to break the news was getting closer, and my nerves were on edge. On fire.

“So,” he started, taking a step closer with a deep breath, “how's it going? How long has it been?”

“Nine years,” I was almost too hot on the mark, my words coming out faster than I'd intended and Dean blinked slightly. I sighed, looking down. “There's been a lot going on, and honestly, I've really needed you at times. You're a hard man to find Dean Winchester.” 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” his brows pinched apologetically and he reached for my hand, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I took a deep breath and met his gaze again.

“Do you… do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I'll get another chance.” 

He nodded slowly, giving my hand a squeeze, releasing it hesitantly with a slight wince to his features.

“Uh oh,” he said, “am I in trouble?”

I laughed, the sound light off my chest.

“Oh Dean,” I reached up to touch his face, and his instinctive reaction was to lean into my palm, “you don't know the half of it.” 

The walk to the café had been pleasant. We chatted about what we'd been up to since we last met - Dean revealing he was still in the same line of work and had travelled around a lot, never really settling down. There was something about that nugget of information that made my stomach twist in knots. He learnt I was still a receptionist, this time at the local garage  instead of the large dealership I had scored before. He asked why I'd changed, to go to something smaller, lesser, and my silence urged him to wait until we were at our destination. He knew I was anxious, and he did his best to keep conversation light and breezy until the time was right. To an untrained eye he was unphased, yet I could tell from the lip nibbling and flitting gaze that he was nervous too.

Do you think he's already guessed it?

The bell jingled as we walked in, the two baristas looking up and instantly greeting me with a wave and a smile.

“Hey (Y/n)! Your couch is free,” the first barista, a young man around my age with soft blond curls waved to me across the counter, his brilliant grin making me smile with a comforting familiarity. “Your usual?”

“Yes please! Thanks, Jake,” I returned the friendliness, stepping around the tables until we arrived at my favourite spot.

“And for your… date?” He gestured to Dean, who was now shrugging off his leather jacket, “what can I get for you pal?” 

Dean hesitated, before just holding his hands up.

“Uhhh, I don't know, I guess I'll have what she's having.”

With our hot beverages on their way, I sat down in my usual nook in the corner whilst Dean sat down opposite, in that same plush armchair that Kat had sat in yesterday. Where Kat had been swallowed by the chair and its all-consuming cushions, Dean had the opposite effect. He made the chair look small under his broad form, like it was made for a child. There were a few moments of silence, neither of us really knowing where to start. So I bit the bullet.

“Dean… before I tell you anything, just know that I've been trying to get hold of you on and off for years. Your number always seemed to go to voicemail and I never got a call back. So please just… know I tried.” 

I looked up and he was totally engaged, already hanging off every word I said as he leant forward, his elbows on his knees. Our attention pulled away from each other briefly as our coffees arrived, hand delivered by the second barista - a woman a few years older than myself with a jet black pixie cut.

“Thanks Emily, you're an angel,” I grasped the mug before she even had a chance to put it on the table and clutched it in my lap, letting the warmth seep through my palms to help soothe my nerves. 

“No worries babes, you two have fun,” she looked between Dean and me with a playful smirk, throwing me a wink before she turned around. 

Great, the gossip starts now.

I turned back to Dean who was now sitting on the edge of his seat. I took a deep breath.

Do it now.

“Dean, I have a son.”

I watched his face twitch slightly, almost like it dropped in disappointment, however it was so fleeting across his features that it was hard to tell. He pulled a strained smile onto his lips.

“(Y/n) that's great, I'm happy for you,” he looked down at his boots briefly, choosing his next words, “I guess this is you telling me to stay away, huh? Now that you have a family and all. It's ok, I get it.”

I shook my head, placing my cup on the table so I could pull myself to sit on the edge of the couch, almost mirroring Dean.

“No, no Dean, that's not- look, what I'm saying is…” another deep breath, “you, have a son.”

I watched his eyes go wide, unsure if he heard me correctly.

“What?” His voice was breathy.

I looked down into my mug for a second, choosing my words. 

“I have a little boy; he's eight, his name is Levi…and he's yours, Dean. He's your son.”

I dared to look up at him, watching his eyes go wider and his mind empty of thoughts. Either that, or his mind is racing so fast that it's left his body on standby. I gave him a few minutes to process the news. Or at least process it the best he could as it would likely be days or weeks before this fully sunk in. Nervousness prickled at my own skin, my worst fears of rejection bubbling to the surface again at his silence. I sighed.

“It’s ok, Dean, I’m not expecting you to-”

He stood abruptly, stepped over the coffee table and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing grip. His arms were so tight that it almost winded me, yet I returned his embrace. The feeling of his lips on the top of my head surprised me as he kissed my hair, the sensation warm and comforting. He placed one, two more kisses before he cupped my face in his large hands, his rough palms gentle against my cheeks as I locked eyes with him. The sight was beautiful. The annoyance and exasperation that I expected to be met with was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no shadow of negativity within those evergreen eyes. All I saw was love. Pride. Joy. Excitement. The relief washing over me felt the same as climbing into your nice, warm comfy bed when on the brink of exhaustion. 

“I’m a dad?” his voice cracked slightly whilst his eyes shimmered.

I nodded as a grin erupted across his face, followed by an airy, almost unbelieving chuckle.

“Holy fuck, (Y/n)-”

“You’re not mad?” my voice was quiet.

“What?” Dean looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, “of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“Because it’s been nine years since we last saw each other, and suddenly this woman who you’ve not spoken to in nearly a decade drops the biggest truth bomb on you. A truth bomb  that I know you definitely weren’t expecting,” I try to step back but he pulls me in for another hug, squeezing the air out of me a second time.

“(Y/n), sweetheart, this is the best bit of news I’ve had in a long, long time.”

I smiled into his chest, freeing my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down into a hug of my own. We stood for a moment in our embrace as the coffee shop busied around us. I knew this shop and I knew this town and people would soon start to talk, start to try and figure out Dean: like who is he? How does he know (Y/n)? Why are they acting so familiar? Is he trouble? But that was all unimportant rubbish that I would deal with later. Right now, Levis father was here, and he knew. For the first time in my adult life I felt like I wasn’t keeping some devastating secret from an incredible man, and it was like I could breathe again. 

Pulling away from Deans’ bear hug, I tucked the wisps of hair away that had come loose from my claw grip and grinned up at him, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine as I swayed slightly on the spot, like an excited schoolgirl who’d just been asked on her first date. Dean smiled down at me, the sort of smile that shone on top of the world.

“So…” I started, biting my lip slightly.

“Do you want to meet your son?”

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[yoonkinii]

Argument with Sukuna

Warning(s): cursing, heated arguments, name calling, insults, mentions of being depressed, self doubt. (If I am missing any, let me know ASAP) Requested by this request Requests open! (only for this AU) Masterlist (check for more AU content) Note(s): I am so sorry it took me literally forever to upload this. I got slammed with midterms and my new job so it took me a while to get around to editing this part.

Doubt- a creeping, insidious emotion that sinks its claws into your chest, digging deeper with each passing moment. It’s the very thing that has wrapped itself around you now, slowly consuming you from the inside out as you spiral deeper into the sluggish pit of overthinking. It gnaws at your thoughts, festering in your mind, even as you stand before the familiar doorway, dressed in a white dress, the soft fabric contrasting with the roughness of the leather jacket draped over your shoulders- his leather jacket.

Your fingers tighten around your phone, the screen’s bright glow illuminating your face as you bite your bottom lip, the sensation a poor distraction from the unease bubbling within you. Your eyes scan the messages again and again, searching for clarity in the words that now feel heavy with doubt. 

Nothing. Hours had passed since his lunch break, and still, there was no reply. Each time you texted, a small hope flickered, only to be extinguished by the silence that followed. With each unanswered message, the doubt that had been simmering beneath the surface grew stronger, tightening its grip on you. You knew the risk of being annoying, yet the gnawing feeling inside pushed you to  reach out again, and again- only to be met with more nothingness. 

With a sigh, you slipped your phone into your purse and rapped your knuckles against the door. Silence greeted you. Just as you raised your hand to knock again, the door cracked open, revealing a pair of familiar brown eyes. 

“Y/n! I didn’t know you were coming over,” he says cheerfully, his voice carrying the usual warmth. 

A sharp pain of anxiety hit you at his innocent comment, the unease twisting in your gut. “You didn’t?” you muttered, brow furrowing as Yuji leads you into the kitchen. 

A pang of anxiety shot through you at his innocent comment. Your brows narrow as Yuji leads you into the kitchen. “You didn’t?”

He shakes his head casually, already reaching into the fridge and pulling out a gallon of milk. Without hesitation, he uncapped it and took a long drink, oblivious to your growing concern. 

“Where’s Sukuna?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, though your mind was racing with a hundred different possibilities. The hope that Sukuna was just busy, still getting ready, lingered desperately. 

Yuji wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, waving off the question as he set the milk down. “He’s in his room, asleep. Came home all moody- said something about needing a nap and just shut himself in there. Hasn’t come out since,” he replied, nonchalant as he ranted about his uncle, completely unaware of the storm brewing in your chest. 

Your heart sank, a heavy weight settling in your chest as you swallowed hard. Offering Yuji a quiet thank you, you turned and followed the familiar path to Sukuna’s bedroom. Your mind was a whirlwind of disbelief and frustration, unable to comprehend that he’d actually do this- again. With each step, dread gnawed at you, but it was anger that simmered beneath the surface, flaring as you reached his door. 

You didn’t bother to be gentle. Swinging the door open, you flicked on the lights, flooding the room in a harsh, luminescent glow. Sukuna’s reaction was immediate.

“Fuckin’ hell, Yuji. I’m trying to sleep,” he groaned, his arm instinctively covering his eyes to block the sudden brightness. 

“Oh, I am so sorry to disturb your royal slumber, Lord Sukuna,” you snapped, sarcasm dripping from your words as your annoyance echoed in the room. 

Sukuna shifted, squinting past the light to get a look at you. The sight of you standing there, arms crossed and clearly fuming, made him sight deeply, frustration creeping into his voice. “Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand over his face.

“Are you kidding me, Sukuna?” you start, your voice rising with every word as you plant your hands firmly on your hips. “This is the third time you’ve blown me off. What is your deal?” You raised three fingers to punctuate your frustration, your tone sharp with irritation. 

He rolls his eyes, scoffing as he sits up. “It’s not a big deal, doll. We can hang out another time.”

“Not a big deal?” you repeat, your voice going up an octave as you stared at him in disbelief. “Not a big deal? Are you fucking serious? You’ve said that exact same thing the last three  times you’ve bailed.” You glare at him, anger radiating off of you. 

Sukuna met your glare with a harsher one, his expression hardening as if your anger was completely unjustified, as though you had no right to be upset.

“Oh my God, you are so damn needy,” he spat, his voice laced with venom. “Sorry that I can’t drop everything for you. I have a job that’s more important than going on dates all the time. Damn, you’re such a nuisance.” His words were sharp, slicing through the air with a brutal finality as he stared you down from where he lay. 

The world stops for you. His words replaying in your mind over and over again. It’s not just his words anymore. The dam inside your mind finally breaks, your mind filling with the comments you’ve ignored so far. 

For a moment, the world seems to stop. His words echo in your mind, replaying like a broken record, growing louder and more painful with each repetition. But it wasn’t just his words now. It was every cruel comment, every sneer, and every judgment you had ignored until now. 

“Look at her. She’s just after his money.”

“What is she wearing? Doesn’t she know the attire is supposed to be business classy, not-hang-your-tits out.”

“It’s cute how she thinks Ryomen actually cares about her.”

“What a whore, can’t she survive for two seconds without clinging to him?”

The dam inside your mind broke. Every ounce of doubt, sadness, and frustration you’d suppressed surged forth all at once, overwhelming you. Tears of anger and hurt welled up, spilling from your eyes as your fists clench at your sides. 

“Fuck you, Ryomen.”

His last name, spoken with such finality, snapped his attention back to you. His eyes widened briefly at the sight of your tears, but his frown only deepened. 

“Seriously, you’re crying?” he scoffs, the corner of his mouth curling in disbelief, as though your emotions were an inconvenience to him. He sits up in the bed, the blanket falling to his wasit, exposing his tattooed chest. With his arms crossed, he tilted his head at you, the condescension in his gaze unmistakable.

“God…you’re insufferable sometimes. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Oh? Well, I’m sorry for wanting to spend time with my own damn  boyfriend,” you snap, your voice trembling with emotion. A white-hot anger flared inside you, making your chest burn as you pointed a trembling finger at him. “You are such a dick, Sukuna! I understand you’re busy, but you’re not even trying to see me.”

“I don’t fucking want to,” he growls, nostrils flaring as his anger matches your own. His gaze bore into you like you were insignificant, something beneath him. “I don’t want to spend every second with you. It’s suffocating. Don’t you get that?”

Your face falls, the fire in your chest extinguished in an instant, leaving only a hollow ache behind. The room seemed to freeze, thick with an eerie silence as the harsh lights threw long, jagged shadows across the walls. Your hands drop to your sides, nails digging into your palms. Trembling slightly, your eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet his gaze. 

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, Sukuna lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair through his hair in frustration, “Y/n-”

But he doesn’t get the chance to finish. You turn on your heel and walk out of his room, the movement quick, decisive. Something inside him snapps at the sight of you leaving, and his voice erupts after you, echoing through the halls. “Fuck you then!”

Grumbling under his breath, Sukuna stands from his bed, the sudden absence of your presence unnerving him more than he’d care to admit. He stomped towards the door, grabbing the edge to slam it shut. But as he moved to close it, he froze.

Yuji stood at the end of the hallway, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Gone was the boy’s usual bright smile, replaced by a cold, unwavering gaze. 

“You’re a dick,” Yuji said, his voice calm, yet heavy with disappointment. 

Three simple words, but they hit Sukuna harder than he’d expect, cutting through his defenses like a blade. His lips curled into a snarl, masking the sharp sting of Yuji’s comment. With a sharp flick of his wrists, he slams the door, the sound reverberating through the room. 

Sukuna leaned his forehead against the door, relishing the cool touch of the wood against his heated skin. 

She doesn’t understand him at all. 

-

He doesn’t understand at all. 

Time has dragged on painfully these past few days, each second stretching into an eternity. The world around him seems muted, painted in dull shades of gray and blue. Nothing shines the way it used to; everything irritates him. People, places- everything feels wrong, like clothes that don’t fit. And he’s left grasping at an explanation, yet understanding nothing. 

In the dark of his bedroom, the only light comes from the dim glow of his phone screen, casting eerie shadows on his face. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and flashes of lightning briefly illuminate the room, breaking through the oppressive gloom. His eyes scan the messages on his screen- dozen of texts sent to you, one after another, each more desperate than the last. 

A week.

An entire week without your smile, your laugh, your touch, or your kiss. Time has slowed to a crawl without you, every minute dragging him further into the suffocating void of your absence. At first, he didn’t care that you were ignoring him. It was your issue for getting upset- at least that’s what he told himself. But as the days beld together, something shifts. The weight of what he’d lost settled into his bones, and he began to understand the hollowness you must’ve felt- the same emptiness now consuming him. 

It’s unbearable. Each second stretched out in the silence, thick with a loneliness he never noticed before you came into his life. Now, it’s all he can feel- this aching void. And he knows, deep down, he messed up. He sees it in the way Yuji looks at him, the silent judgment behind those eyes every time they cross paths. It cuts deeper than Sukuna thought possible, slicing him in two with each glance. 

Another flash of lightning, and he’s up. Without thinking, without even grabbing his jacket, he’s out of his bed, storming out of the house before the rational part of his mind could stop him. He can’t take it anymore- this hollow, gnawing ache that’s been clawing at him. He needs to see you. Now. 

-

The relentless patter of rain against your window muffles the found from you TV, the show playing fading into a distant hum. You can’t even remember the name of the program or what it was about. Your half-lidded eyes stare blankly at the flickering screen, knees pulled close to your chest. The cool night air slips through the slightly open window, chilling your skin and raising goosebump across every inch of you. The hoodie- his hoodie- offers little warmth, but you don’t care. The cold is the furthest thing from your mind.

These past few days, you haven’t been able to focus on anything- school, work, even the most mundane tasks seem distant and irrelevant. Your thoughts drift aimlessly during class as lectures drag on and on, or while you mindlessly restock shelves. Even Shokok noticed something was off. She poked your side during class, slipping you a note with a simple, loaded question

‘Are you okay?’

A question you still don’t know how to answer.

Sukuna’s words left a deep scar, one that feels impossible to heal simply by ignoring him. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cried, the sting of his voice and the cruel whispers of others replaying in your head like a vicious cycle. His name lights up your phone screen more than once, and every time you choose to ignore it. Call it petty, but you want him to feel some of the hurt you felt when he brushed you off like you didn’t matter. Yet as the days stretch on and your phone continues to vibrate, you begin to wonder if this silent war is worth it. 

Even now, your eyes sting from the tears you’ve shed. You know you shouldn’t be crying this much, that you should be stronger, more resilient like those girls who don’t care what others think. But you’re not like that- you care deeply, too much sometimes. Yes, you’re angry at Sukuna, but beneath that anger lies an overwhelming sadness you can’t seem to shake. 

The TV flashes as a commercial for some love-themed product plays, the word “love: glowing brightly on the screen. A bitter frown tugs at your lips- how ironic. You lean forward to grab the remote from the coffee table, ready to change the channel, when a knock echoes from the door. The student noise startles you, cutting through the rain and the murmur of the TV, sending a jolt of fear through your body. 

You freeze, eyes locked on the door, unsure if you’d actually heard anything. A second knock comes, more urgent this time, breaking the silence. Slowly, you make your way toward the door, hesitation pulling at every step. It’s late, the rain pounds against the windows, and you weren’t expecting anything. The thought of ignoring it crosses your mind, but the knock persists, louder, more frantic. 

With a sigh, you unlock the door and crack it open, only to swing it wide in shock at the sight before you. 

Sukuna stood there, drenched from head to toe. His soaked hair clung to his forehead, water dripping down his face as his chest heaves, clearly out of breath, like he had run all the way here. Judging by his disheveled appearance, he probably did. He was dressed in nothing but pajama pants and a white tank top, both utterly soaked, the thin fabric of his shirt sticking to his muscular frame like a second skin. 

Your heart stutters in your chest, wide eyes scanning him up and down, trying to comprehend why he was here- why now- when he was the one so furious with you. His presence felt surreal. Sukuna, your sharp-tongued, blunt boyfriend, looked utterly defeated. The usual fire in his eyes had dimmed, replaced with something distant and heavy. His brows were drawn together, casting faint lines across his forehead, and his mouth- so often curved in a smirk or scowl- was set in a hard, straight line, lips pressed tightly. His whole expression was steeped in sorrow, a quiet, aching weight that made him look so unlike himself. 

“Y/n…” He whispered your name as if it were the only thing holding him together, his voice laced with disbelief. 

You swallowed hard, biting the inside of your cheek as your mind raced. Before you could react, Sukuna moved, stepping inside and pulling you into a fierce embrace. His arms wrapped tightly around you, and though your body instinctively tensed at his touch, the warmth of his closeness stirred a whirlwind of emotions. 

“Please,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and desperate against your skin. “Be angry with me, hate me if you have to- but don’t stay away. I can’t do this anymore.” his voice cracked, raw with emotions, his large frame curling into you as though he could make himself smaller, more vulnerable. 

Shock ripples through you, his words shaking you to your core. Sukuna has never been like this. Harsh, yes. Guarded, certainly. But this? This openness, this need- this was something you’d never seen in him before. The façade he always wore, that untouchable exterior, had finally cracked, and you could see the raw, unguarded person beneath it. 

Slowly, almost hesitantly, your hands found their way around his torso, returning the embrace. “You’re getting my floors all wet,” you teased softly, the tension easing so slightly from your chest as you spoke. 

He let out a low hum, tightening his hold on you. “Sorry,” he whispers, his voice low and rough. “I’m so sorry…for everything.” his words were muffled against your hair, but the weight of them hung heavily in the air. The sincerity in his apology palpable, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the tightness in your chest beginning to lift, if only just a little. 

-

Tendrils of steam drift from the bathroom as Sukuna emerges, a towel draped loosely over his shoulder, catching the last few drops of water from his damp hair. He grunts as he drops onto the couch, his presence immediately filling the room. 

From the kitchen, you eye him, raising a brow at his casual appearance. “You do know I gave you a shirt to wear, right?” you say, stepping closer and handing him a steaming cup of tea. His hands cradle the cup, his eyes fixating on the liquid inside as if it might hold the answers to his thoughts. 

“And you know I don’t like wearing shirts to bed,” he counters, a lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

Humming, you lean your cheek on the back of the couch- your legs tucking themselves close to your chest again. 

You hum softly in response, resting your cheek against the back of the couch, your legs instinctively curling up to your chest. The silence between you grows heavy, and though his smile remains, you can’t shake the lingering weight of what had happened. 

“I’m still angry at you,” you say, your voice softer but firm. 

Sukuna’s eyes remain on the mug for a moment longer before he speaks, his voice low. “I know.”

“What you did,” you begin, your gaze fixed on him, “was really messed up, I can’t believe you spoke to me like that.”

He finally lifts his gaze, meeting yours. His lips pressed into a thin line, and there’s something in his eyes- something softer, almost regretful. “I know,” he repeats, the words filled with quiet acknowledgment. 

Your frown deepens, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Is that all you’re going to say?” you ask, irritation, creeping into your tone at his lack of explanation. 

Sukuna watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “There’s nothing I can say to undo what happened,” he begins, voice steady but laced with a rare vulnerability. “What I did- it was bad. Really bad. I didn’t understand why you were so upset.”

Your teeth clench at his choice of words, and you shoot him a sharp glare. “You’re terrible at apologizing,” you mutter through gritted teeth. 

He lets out a small, rueful laugh. “I know,” he admits, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek, the gesture almost tender. “I got angry because I didn’t understand. And I can’t say anything to excuse what I did. But I am…truly sorry.”

His voice softens at the end, the weight of his apology hanging in the air between you both. It isn’t perfect, but it’s honest, and for someone like Sukuna, that means more than words ever could. 

With a soft sigh, you inch closer to him. He tenses, casting you a wary glance as you lift his arm, guiding it over your shoulder. For a moment, his arm hovers in the air, unsure, before he slowly lowers it, wrapping it around you in a gesture that feels both hesitant and protective. 

“I appreciate the apology,” you murmur, your cheek suppressed against the warmth of his bare chest. His skin, always radiating heat, feels more like a personal heater. “But I don’t know if I can forgive you just yet.”

Without a word, he places the mug on the coffee table and shifts his position, pulling you down with him until you’re both lying on the couch, your body draped over his. He lets out a deep, content sigh, his arms tightening around you as if afraid you might slip away. On instinct, your legs entwine with his, the closeness both familiar and comforting. His voice, a low rumble, vibrates through his chest as he speaks. 

“That’s alright. I didn’t expect you to forgive me right away,” he says quietly, his breath stirring your hair. “But I’m going to do everything I can to earn it”

Propping your chin on his chest, your eyes meet his as a playful smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I’m going to make you work like a dog to get it back.”

A deep chuckle escapes him, the sound reverberating through his body. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” he replies, his eyes softening with affection. 

Bonus:

“Damn, my back’s killing me,” Sukuna grumbled as he dropped into one of the dining chairs, his face twisting with discomfort. 

Rolling your eyes, you set a plate of breakfast down in front of him. “That’s what you get for sleeping on the couch… and for being old.” 

He shoots a glare in your direction, stabbing his fork into the eggs with more force than necessary. “Ha-ha, hilarious.” 

You settle across from him, your own plate in hand, watching as he eats. The room was quiet except for the sound of clinking cutlery and his occasional grunt when a movement aggravated his back. You simply observed, a content silence falling over you as you ate your meal. 

He had hurt you, deeply, with his words. They’d cut through you like a blade, but right now, in this moment, it didn’t feel as heavy. You could set aside the hurtful comments whispered behind your back and deal with them later. What mattered was now- this quiet morning,watching your boyfriend clear his plate, his eyes occasionally flicking up to meet yours. 

“What?” His piercings caught the morning light, glinting as he gave you a curious look. 

“Sure,” he says with a suspicious glance, getting up and taking his plate to the sink. He rinses it off, the sound of running water filling the small space. “I’ll need to head back to my place soon.”

A pang of disappointment hits you, but you mask it with a short nod. “Okay. Your shirt should be dry now.”

“He glances over his shoulder. “Be ready when I come back later.”

You blink, caught off guard your fork pausing mid-bite. “Wait, why?”

His lips tug into a small smirk. “Didn’t you want to go to that stupid musical in town?”

Before you could stop yourself, you’re standing, hands pressed flat against the table. Excitement surging through you. “The one I mentioned weeks ago? About Odysseus? That musical?!”

Question after question tumbles from your mouth, your heart racing. Sukuna looks at you, brow arches, clearly confused by your outburst. “Yeah,” he drew out the word, eyes narrowing slightly, “that one. Why are you so worked up?”

With a squeal, you dart over to him, grabbing his cheeks between your hands and squishing them together. He scowls, his lips puckering in protest. “Thank you, Kuna!you exclaim, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss against his squished lips. He grunts but returns the kiss as soon as your lips meet his. 

Pulling away, he peels your hands off his face. “It’s the least I could do. You did say you wanted to go.”

You smile up at him, your heart still fluttering with excitement as he pulls you closer, his hands finding their place on your waist. “Yes, but I only mentioned it in passing. I didn’t think you’d remember.”

He shrugs, squeezing your hips lightly. “I listen sometimes.”

You hum, your arms lopping around his neck. “Yeah, sometimes.”

-

Taglist (open): @kalulakunundrum , @fushipurro , @sad-darksoul , @cupcaketeddybehr

[ponderingmoonlight]

Quiet mornings with Shigure Sohma

Pairing: Shigure x reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: While you're surrounded by mess and trouble all day, you can't help but enjoy those mornings with none other than Shigure.

Warnings: the fic no one asked for, I fell for fruits basket so hard that you guys are forced to read my trash now hehe, fluff over fluff

The weather outside is soft today. Not warm, not cold, just enough of something in-between to make the morning feel cozy. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor like you always do, sunlight pooling across your lap, your hands holding a ceramic mug of tea. The house feels quiet with all the kids gone, without Tohru’s soft voice and the boys fighting over nonsense. But that peace, you know, is an illusion. Or, at the very least, a temporary state.

Because Shigure Soma is never quiet for long.

Right on cue, there’s a shuffle of feet against the floorboards, and then his voice - a melodious hum that could belong to someone much less chaotic.

“My darling,” he calls, the sing-song lilt of his tone already filled with teasing.

“How rude of you to start your morning without me. My feelings are positively shattered!”

You tilt your head just enough to see him standing in the doorway, one hand pressed theatrically to his chest as though wounded. His yukata is draped carelessly over his shoulders, the belt knotted loosely at his waist. His hair is a little messy, and he hasn’t yet shaved the faint stubble on his jaw. But the sight of him - rumpled, relaxed, utterly himself -makes warmth bloom in your chest anyway.

“Shigure,” you say with an exasperated smile, “it’s past ten. I’m not going to wait forever for you to wake up.”

He gasps as though you’ve just insulted his ancestors.

“Ah, how cold-hearted my sweet muse is! If you loved me, surely you’d have brought me breakfast in bed-”

“I made tea,” you interrupt, raising your mug pointedly.

“And there’s toast in the kitchen. If you want anything else, you’re on your own.”

He pouts, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not offended in the slightest. He never is, really. Shigure’s ego might be gigantic, but it’s not fragile. If anything, he seems to flourish on your chit-chat, your little refusals lightening up his mood even more. It’s a dance the two of you have perfected, a rhythm of soft blows and exaggerated reactions that always ends in laughter.

Shigure pads across the room and lowers himself to sit beside you, far closer than necessary. You feel the brush of his knee against yours, the gentle press of his arm as he leans in, peering at your face with open curiosity.

“And what, pray tell, are you thinking about so deeply, hmm? You’ve got that faraway look again.”

His voice is quieter now, softer. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you, their usual playfulness tempered by something more genuine.

You hesitate, caught off-guard.

“I’m not… really thinking about anything,” you reply, though it’s not entirely true.

There’s always something brewing in your mind: a stray memory, a half-formed plan, the ever-present hum of life’s what-ifs. How are you supposed to enjoy the present with the past and future weighing down on you this heavily? But explaining those things feels impossible, so you simply shrug.

“Just enjoying the quiet, I guess.”

Shigure hums thoughtfully, tilting his head as if to examine you from a different angle. His dark eyes are warm, patient, even as his lips twitch with the beginnings of another grin.

“Ah, yes. You’ve been enchanted by my humble house. It’s no wonder you’ve fallen for me so completely.”

You roll your eyes while taking a brief look at the destroyed shoji, don’t bother moving away when he rests his head against your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek, and you can smell the faint trace of his shampoo. Definitely something light and floral. Did he use yours again?

“You’re insufferable,” you murmur, but there’s no real bite in your words.

Your free hand comes up almost instinctively to comb through his hair, smoothing out some of the more unruly strands. He hums again, this time in obvious ease.

“You’re so good to me. “Really, I don’t deserve such a kind, gentle soul.”

You snort, flicking his ear lightly.

“That’s the first truthful thing you’ve said all morning.”

Shigure doesn’t respond right away, but you feel him shift, his weight settling more fully against your side. It’s a little unbalanced, but you don’t mind. His presence is warm, comforting against the sometimes harsh reality. And though he’s quiet now, you can sense the wheels turning in his head, the way his mind is always spinning with something - mischief, poetry, or the occasional genuine thought he’ll tuck away for safekeeping.

It’s in moments like this that you’re reminded of the duality of Shigure Sohma. He’s a mystery wrapped in jokes and half-truths, a man who wears his whimsy like armor but lets it slip when he’s close enough to trust. And though he can be infuriating, there’s a softness to him as well, a tenderness that he rarely shows but always carries.

“I like this,” he comments suddenly, his voice low enough that you almost miss it.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t look at you, but you can feel the weight of his words settle in the space between you.

“Like what?” you ask quietly.

“This.”

He gestures vaguely, his hand brushing yours where it rests on the floor.

“The mornings with you. The quiet. The way you let me bother you without pushing me away.”

There’s a smile in his tone while his breath caresses your skin gently, but it’s faint, almost self-conscious.

You blink, taken aback. Shigure is rarely so direct, so open. When was the last time he talked this seriously with you, let alone with his voice this muted? You don’t quite know what to say, but you feel something shift in your chest, a fluttering warmth, soft and fragile.

“I like it too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Even when you’re being a nuisance.”

That earns you a chuckle, low and rich. Shigure lifts his head to look at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes him look far younger, far happier. He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze lingers, warm and steady, as though committing you to memory.

For a moment, the two of you simply sit there, the world fading into the background. The sunlight shifts, casting patterns across the floorboards, and the faint scent of tea and spring air fills the room. It’s the kind of moment that feels fragile, like it could shatter if you so much as breathe too loudly. You can’t help but allow your eyes to rest for a moment, to take in the calmness of the moment.

But then Shigure sighs dramatically, breaking the spell.

“Ah, I suppose I’ll have to go hunt for food if I want to survive this cruel, neglectful treatment.”

You laugh, the sound light and unrestrained.

“There’s toast in the kitchen. You’re so dramatic”, you remind him again, shaking your head.

“And yet you adore me,” he remarks, pushing himself to his feet with exaggerated effort.

He stretches, his yukata slipping slightly from one shoulder, and you catch the briefest glimpse of his collarbone before he adjusts it. A man looking this good with that cheeky mouth…How is your stay here supposed to end in a good way?

“Maybe I do,” you reply without thinking.

The words slip out way too easily, carried by the warmth in your chest and the sight in front of you.

Shigure freezes, his hand halfway to his hair. For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far, that you’ve somehow crossed an invisible line. Does he feel uncomfortable, insulted even? But then he turns, his expression unreadable, and you feel your breath catch.

“Careful, my dear,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost teasing.

There’s a flicker of something else in his eyes. something softer, more vulnerable. Something you’ve never caught before in his gaze. For a moment, time seems to stand still, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“I might just take you seriously.”

You hold his gaze, the words lingering in the air between you. And though your heart is racing, you manage a small, steady smile.

“Maybe you should.”

[temis-de-leon]

Love potion and Obey Me - Intro

So, I have finals in a few days, but I had to write this because: 1. Otherwise I would've forgot about it and 2. I wanted to give you a lil something until I can write the actual parts next week.

Characters: Solomon x reader

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

Masterlist

CW: this will be all fluff and light. The intro has Solomon x reader tags because they're the only characters here, but they have no romantic interactions. All the cast (minus Mephisto, Raphael and Thirteen, I'm afraid) will appear in the next 3 parts, just like in the pick me girls series

.

There was mischief in Solomon's eyes when he offered to teach you how to brew a love potion, which made you stare at him in silence, waiting for a convincing explanation, but he just smiled and looked at you like the only thing he wanted was your education's improvement.

"Why a love potion?"

He tsked in faked disapproval, leaning backwards on the table before taking a vial from one of the cabinets. The liquid was transparent, yet iridescent, and the shimmer inside it danced towards you the moment you took it from Solomon's gentle grasp.

"Love is one of the strongest feelings in all the realms, if not the strongest. Healthy or not, what wouldn't you do for love?"

The vial was warm between your fingers and you briefly wondered what the potion tasted like.

"How does it work?"

"Well..."

He retrieved the potion with a strange look in his face, nostalgia and fondness. Was it memories of his past experiences? The way he had loved? The way he had been loved?

"It depends on the process" he finally said, smiling at your curious gaze. "Think of this as a base: you can get different endings, but the beginning will always be the same"

"What kind of endings?"

"You can strengthen the love between your partner and you or you could make someone fall in love with you, which is... the most popular use"

Yeah, you could imagine that. It felt filthy and lowly, but you could understand the desperation.

"For the first one, you add something that belongs to both parts of the couple, and for the second one..."

"I only add something that belongs to me"

"Very well, MC"

Solomon smiled with pride and you with giddiness.

"To make it stronger, of course you need a stimulant. Young witches use cinnamon, vanilla or paprika and the most experienced ones use infused blood"

"Infused in what?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves"

You looked at him in exasperation, but he just smiled like the asshole he was. After returning the vial back to its original place, he walked towards a bookshelf in the opposite wall and started searching for something.

"You'll be learning how to brew the base; it may come handy in the future".

After some minutes he gave you a single parchment, edges burnt and writing kinda smudged, but still legible.

"And what if I only want the base?"

Solomon scratched his neck, as if he'd never thought about that option (something you deeply doubted).

"Then it will show only love. Love as it is, no influence"

"What..?"

"Come on, MC, I can't teach you everything!"

"You're literally my teacher"

He hugged you for a short moment before walking you to the door, ignoring every single one of your questions as well as the incompetence of his incomplete answers.

Hours later, alone in your room, you stared at the cauldron on the table.

It didn't look like a liquid; the consistency was... something unique. The smell, however? You could stay in that same spot forever, dunking your face in the cauldron before standing up to cleanse your nostrils and bending down again.

It smelled like him.

What would happen if you drank it? If your skin came in contact with the mixture?

Curiosity became too much for you to handle, so, although begrudgingly, you walked out of your room to wander the halls and clear your mind.

Moments later, someone else showed up at your door.

@hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae @eliciria @darkflowerav @zarakem @yuuvis32

[lovefromray]

Heaven Knows I’m miserable now🍂

…

@sarcastic-cookie @herondale-lightworm @anunstablefangirl @kitsbaby123

More jeremy !!!!!!!!!!!!

I’d been hours , four long hours…it was dark outside and you were ready for bed ; settled so nicely in your bed , reading and trying…failing…to distract yourself from your ghost boyfriend who’d well…disappeared from the face of the earth. Maybe he’d moved on…? moved onto the next thing…made at peace or something…you’d hoped he hadn’t , you missed him. Rethinking everything, the way his lips felt so perfect against yours . You tried to read a book, only stopping on the same sentence two hundred and three times , Heaven knows I’m miserable now by the Smiths echoing through the dull room .

You were bored…sad and somewhat completely still confused by everything. You heard your bedroom door slowly open before a very breathless and..soaking wet Jeremy appeared.

“there she is..!”Jeremy pants out , “oh i’m so glad you’re here cause i’ve just had to fight the weirdest…” He stops , shaking himself as he laughs out , “i’m human like i’m actually breathing and stuff and i bruise and..oh my god i can actually leave this place ..”

You stare at him, leaving your bed to hug him, “missed you.”

“oh? yeah? i…uh…yeah…i missed you too but listen, baby…i just had to fight the weirdest guy over in..the underworld thing..? like he was not letting me leave but..uh i mean he did let me but-“ You cut him off , lips meeting with his as he freezes, pushing off for a moment.

“you’re warm..”

“yeah i’m alive again so i’m-…you kissed me.”

“yeah..? i missed you.”

“so are we like officially together now..since like…im human and not dead and like totally able to go on dates with you.”

You roll your eyes , pushing his head back to yours as you lead him onto the bed , his hands gripping your thighs as he leans over you, tongues dancing and lips hungrily smashing together. Your hands in his hair , he hums out occasionally; clearly dazed by everything and now the fact he was human and able to kiss his little human girlfriend without a care or a problem….well besides the problem brewing between his hips..

He lifts you a little higher, shifting himself between your thighs as he continues to kiss you , his hands wearily moving from your thighs and under your shirt causing a small hum to leave your lips…

“hm..” He stops for a moment, “i have missed this..”

“oh?” you stop, blinking at him as he hand slowly runs over your chest , your eyes half lidded as you stare at him

“i…i..not like that! i meant being a human…i wasn’t like some total manwhore…i mean this is the closest i’ve gotten to actually touching-…ill just…ill just shut up..”

You giggle at him, moving his head to rest on your chest as your fingers run through his wet hair , sighing out , “you worried me…”

“i know but trust me…i would never leave you..i chose to haunt you when i was a ghost and..i am so gonna haunt you now im alive….you’re gonna have to kill me to get me to leave ..” He smiles up at him, fingers drawing circles into your skin, eyes shining with softness and admiration once again as yours mirror his.

“i think id like it if you haunted me forever, jer…”

“yeah..?”

“mhm…”

You both settle , breathing matching as you stare at each other…mind at peace and body calm under his…you’d have this forever .

[deadsetromance]

IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF THE MORNING

(not my gif!)

gerard way x gn!reader

summary: he's your roommate...but maybe he's more than that.

warnings: unedited writing, fluff, no use of [y/n]

note: so sorry i haven't posted in forever! i have a few requests and a few more half-complete drafts, so hopefully those should be up soon &lt;3

you supposed there were worse roommates out there. actually, thinking about it, you realized how lucky you were.

you got along really well with your roommate, gerard. he’d been sharing an apartment for nearly two years now, and you were sure you knew him better than you knew yourself.

you know he forgets to take the coffee pods out of the keurig, and sometimes he leaves the heater running for too long.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen him sleep. sometimes you wonder if he’s a vampire or something, what with the scribbling coming from his room at all hours of the night.

to be fair… you’re hardly any better. you sleep little more than he does, when you do fall asleep it’s usually on the couch, and you leave the television on all the time.

you’re incredibly lucky, you realize. lucky that he’s as sweet as he is, bringing you coffee in the mornings, and stopping by your job on his commute. he’s even slipped a few drawings your way. some are drawings of you, others are silly little doodles he gives you when you’re having a bad day. sometimes, he’ll show you characters for the comics he’s working on, asking for your input.

you realize that you’re lucky that he’s so helpful, that he’s not a creep, that you both get along so well. you’re lucky that you’ve found a friend who will sit and watch television reruns with you when neither of you can fall asleep.

that’s why you slip a record under his door one night. you don’t know if he even likes sinatra, but you give it to him anyway. there’s no special occasion really, you just thought of him when you found in the wee small hours in the record store you visited. you don’t sign your name on the post it you stuck to it. all you write is “from one insomniac to another”. you feel embarrassed for some reason you can’t place, and something slithers in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have given it to him…maybe he doesn’t like sinatra. it’s too late now though, it’s already done.

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

it’s late one night…or early, depending on how you look at it. you’re tired, whatever movie you were watching forgotten and on mute. you can hear gerard milling around in the kitchen, you can smell the coffee he’s brewing. you’re tired, but you can’t fall asleep.

“thanks for the record” gerard called from the kitchen. “i really liked it”

you smile, one of those hazy tired smiles, the kind you do when you’re between being awake and asleep. “i didn’t know if you liked sinatra, i hope it’s ok”

you miss the way he grins at you, too busy yawning.

“it’s great i actually…” he walked off in the middle of his sentence, a habit you’d noticed he had, only to come back with the disk in his hands. “do you mind?”

it didn’t matter if you said no, he already turned to put it on, smiling back at you as he dropped the needle to the record.

“what are we watching?” he asked, sitting next to you on the couch. close enough to be touching you, but still far enough to give you space. it’s like a paradox, you think, but then you tell yourself to shut up. you’re too tired to know what you’re talking about.

“i dunno, i stopped paying attention.” your eyes flit to the movie playing on the television, watching the car chase for a moment before turning your attention back to him. “you’re going to keep yourself up all night drinking coffee this late.” you might have frowned at him if you weren’t too busy beaming.

he knew you were teasing, you could tell by the glint in his eye. “i just need a few finishing touches on my project and then i’m done.”

you didn’t say anything more for a while, taking a moment to take everything in. the record playing softly in the background as you curled closer to gerard. his head resting on yours as you listened to his breathing, memorizing the pace of his heart.

it’s quiet…intimate, and you’re tired. tired and happy.

“you tired?” he questions softly.

“a little,” you don’t know why you’re whispering.

“do you work tomorrow?”

“yeah, i open,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. you think you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.

it’s quiet again, though this time it’s too quiet. you’re left with thoughts of gerard running through your head, and you wish that one of you would say something. you should be ashamed, you scold yourself, thinking of him the way you do when he’s sitting right next to you.

“what are you thinking about?” he prods gently. he’s soft with you, the way he always is, careful not to overstep with his questions.

“nothing really,” you lie, because you’d rather not risk what comfort you have now. “what are you thinking about?”

it seems like he didn’t expect the question to be turned back on him. he hesitates, and the silence is thick…too thick. his face is illuminated by the light from the tv, and he looks nervous. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite as terrified as he does now. the lighting shifts, and he’s blanketed in darkness again, but you notice something change in his eyes.

“i think i love you” he whispers against your ear.

you feel like you can’t breathe. you think you heard him wrong. you’re worried this is all a dream, a good dream, the kind that would leave you reeling when you wake up.

you want to hear him say it again.

you lean your head back against his shoulder, and he breathes out with a shudder. you watch the explosions on tv as your hand finds his. “i love you too.”

that’s it then, everything is out in the open. maybe you’re tired, but you sigh gently as he cups your face in his hands. thinking back, you can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him changed, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now. he loves you and you love him. it’s surprisingly simple.

“can i…?” he doesn’t need to finish his question as you lean in closer to him. his breath is warm, and he smells like coffee and sleepless nights, and you’re waiting for him. your eyes are closed as you breathe him in, and they stay that way as he kisses you softly.

he’s…soft, softer than you imagine, and you can’t help but smile.

in the wee small hours of the morning, he is yours, and you are his.

[two-white-butterflies]

no time to die | c16 | part two

Description: After a messy breakup with Charles Leclerc. You resort to feuding with him online. In where, he hates your guts.

Pairing: charles leclerc/actress!reader

part one | part three

(ONE YEAR LATER)

YNMakesItSparkle: New Years Day 🌙 announcing my first ever single. I know that it's been a while since ya'll heard my voice. I remember singing with Miley and Selena down in Disney. So glad to be back inside the studio! 💜

129 comments 1,292,180 likes

watchasay29: Is this about Charles?

taylorswift: I'm so excited for this 💙💙💙💙

selenagomez: Patiently seated.

charlesuniversewags: this is about charles 100% idk if she's gonna make him seem like the bad guy.

(IBIZA, SPAIN 2023)

"Charles, let's get married - let's settle down." you continued speaking, following him around the casita with a glass filled with Moscato. Ever since his incident in Formula One, you haven't stopped thinking about your future together. You couldn't sleep at night knowing that there was a possibility that everything you built would come crumbling down.

A small sigh escapes his mouth; marriage was the least of his concern. He still wanted to win a championship - he wanted to be something that you could boast around your upper-echelon friends. "I'm not ready, bebe." he sighed, taking another sip of his merlot.

You were stark contrasts of each other.

He liked everything that tasted bitter - and you adored sweet. He was darkness, rest in the middle of paradise and you were light. You complimented each other properly - but now you weren't sure.

"I-I know, but please - think about it." you stuttered. You always dreamed about marriage, not in a dreamy fairytale way but in a way that included living in happiness with the person that you adored. "I'm not sure if I want to get married, ever." he scoffed, placing his glass loudly on the countertop.

"Why?" your eyebrows merged into each other. "Why?" he repeated your statement - finding the question to be tone deaf.

"All everyone talks about is you and how wonderful your projects are. The articles, they don't even call me by name - I'm just 'your boyfriend' - and what will happen after we get married? Will I be Y/N L/N's husband? When I've got all of these accomplishments to myself." he responded in a bitter tone - telling you that there was something bothering him.

"What do you mean?" your frown deepened, seeing fire underneath his eyes. Did he hate you all these years?

"I'm tired of being your shadow, that's what I mean." his voice softened, seeing your eyes blurry with tears. "You aren't my shadow - when I came into this relationship with you, I wasn't even an actress." you said to yourself, the truth quickly settling into you.

"- and maybe that's the problem. I don't need another person who's competing with my success, I need someone to comfort me in my races." he expressed his opinion, unable to understand that he was stampeding upon your own.

"I've done all of that, Charles."

"It's not enough!" his voice raised again, a storm brewing in his mind. A small chuckle escaped your lips - and you tried to keep your composure. 'Grace under pressure' you thought.

"You know what the truth is, Charles?" you grinned, reaching for your handbag on the chair beside you. "You feel emasculated because I'm better than you." you gritted your teeth, straightening your dress until it didn't have any wrinkles.

"You know I feel really bad because I came to this conversation seeing a future with you. But now I'm glad that you had another thing in mind." your eyes narrowed, quickly walking away and slamming the door to his apartment loudly.

YNMakesItSparkle: me and my favorite driver 💜

312 comments 1,912,129 likes

maxverstappen1: 💪🏽

carlossainz55: Hungary GP? - YNMakesItSparkle: Totally 💜

reyna219: YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL

YNMakesItSparkle: Forever Ferrari 💜❤️

812 comments 1,231,100 likes

carlandouniverse2: this is enough confirmation 😭

wantingmeeee1: Are you back with Charles?

landonorris: Mclaren needs you here 😎 - YNMakesItSparkle: Really?

imsebastianstan: You didn't bring me? - YNMakesItSparkle: the airline had a no-hand-carry policy, really sorrrrryyy 😁

Charles could recognize you a mile away. His fingers could even feel the fabric that clung into your body - he missed you, and he knew that you deserved better. The pressure of not being a good enough driver was getting to him - forcing him to resort to look for something to blame. At first, it was his company - but when he saw your success - he chose to blame that.

But now after six-months of therapy, he could see properly. He could see that he was the problem. "I listened to your new song," he swiftly made his way towards you - a bottle of beer in his right hand. He missed you - but he couldn't entertain the thought of being with you again. He believed that he wasn't good enough for that.

"Did you like you like it?" you gazed up at him - staring deep into his eyes until he could feel himself leaning down to inhale more of your rosemary scent. "Amazing, and the chords were familiar." he raised an eyebrow - teasing you softly.

He'd be content with being friends.

"Sue me if you dare, Leclerc." you pouted, knowing that the chords to that song resembled something that he wrote for you a few years ago. "I won't - not when you made it sound better." he smiled, flicking a strand of your hair away from your face. "Really?" you began to ask.

Unable to deny the palpable chemistry between you.

"Why don't you play for us in the afterparty?" he offered, knowing that it would be held inside his home - and his piano needed a little dusting. "Sounds like a plan," you licked your lips, slowly moving away from him.

SELENA GOMEZ'S PRIVATE TWITTER

Don't get back with ur ex challenge, but you're fighting against @YNMakesItSparkle

YN'S PRIVATE TWITTER: STOPPPP

TAYLOR'S PRIVATE TWITTER: I'm going home because it's a losing game ;)

DANIEL RICCIARDO'S PRIVATE TWITTER: HELPP

@perihelioneclipse @hiraethrhapsody @omgsuperstarg @reidsworld @charles-eclair16 @ferraribabe @cl16gf @yourrrrrprefffffect @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @fdl305 @incoherenciass @sassyheroneckgiant @ietss @newlifeforus

[yourcarnevoreuspal]

I decided to put all the parts of the Farmer pred story together so it's easier to read. Enjoy~

Hm, something odd about that farmer boy who just moved to town. I swear it seems like his appearance changes sometimes. Like he's bigger, sharper, he's always... off.

I happened to see him from my window - certainly not spying or anything - he was fishing, and he'd just caught one of some kind, not something I would be able to identify. It was one of those times where he looked different, I can never place what it is exactly. With his other catches, he dropped them into a cooler, but this one he hesitated, eyeing his surroundings. I don't know what he was looking for, but no one else was outside - only I would witness what he did next.

With an urgent swiftness, he had that fish halfway past his lips, and mind you, this was no mere mackerel, but some other large aquatic inhabitant. I could only stare in shock, with some other unknowable emotions brewing in my chest, while I watched that fish disappear into the farmer.

Since then, I can't help but notice his odd glances towards my fellow villagers. He doesn't know I saw him that day, but I'm not sure there's reason to fear if he did. The farmer is strange but kind - I have hope that he won't harm anyone despite his growing agitation. His efforts in the town speak not of a monster.

Growing closer to the farmer wouldn't cloud my judgment - surely I began this friendship in order to investigate his oddness, but he reciprocated in turn. There's no harm in befriending this creature that the farmer is, often I find myself drinking into the night with him as company, surely there is nothing to fear from him.

Right?

________

Drunkenly, I push myself up from the bar, stupidly grinning as I watch my friend take his leave. Stumbling to take a look around, I'm surprised to see only one other patron left in the bar, he who's been standing in the corner all night. A tipsy blush paints his face as he looks up to the tender, who informs him it's late. My drunken mind manages to agree with this, and I head out the door into the chilled night.

The cold is sobering, and something in the night brings my instincts to attention. They’re reminding me of my hunger. My attempts to ease my appetite have been thwarted, no tuna nor slime seems to quell that ache anymore. No, it craves something more.

Stepping behind a tree, I watch the dark river pass and listen to the soft trickle of water... Until I hear a gradual sound of shuffling steps come following up the stone path. A sound I've grown familiar with. Peaking around the tree, I see the lone patron from the bar, stumbling towards his home- a sight I see practically every night.

My hunger always brings me here, watching the potential prey who would be oh so easy to snatch. So far, I've been resistant, but I feel it will soon be inevitable. Flexing my claws, my hunger begs me to stalk, to pounce from behind. It's all I can do but to keep myself back, only watching as he slowly disappears up the path.

One of these days, I'm not going to be able to stop myself…

________

Hauling the cooler up over my shoulder, I start a slow jog headed off the beach. It's late, the cold night air telling of autumn. The cooler sloshes with It's contents- today's catch swimming around the meager water within.

Crossing the bridge and rounding the corner, my jog slows to a halt. There he is again, taking his sweet, drunken time with his night walk home. Lowering the cooler from my shoulder, a clawed hand comes to grasp my aching middle. It's been months now since I've had a taste, moving here from the city, that was the main motivator. Less prey to agitate my hunger. It seems I can't hold it off forever, though.

The cooler slips from my hand, falling to the dirt path with a thud. My prey is alerted to the sound, turning to see only the cooler lying in the road. My body moves on its own accord, sick of the hunger plaguing it. Before the cooler had reached the ground, I was slinking behind the bushes, hidden in their shadows. My prey, too drunk to realize the danger of his situation, continues towards his home while I stalk him from the brush.

It isn't until reaching the edge of his land that I make my move. Sneaking from the shadows, my visage now that of a monster's, I crawl towards him, closing the gap between us until…

The front door opens, light washing the landscape in its pale yellowness. At the first click of the door, I had already slunk back into the shadows, watching as my prey's relative scolds him for being so late. With the scene unfolding in front of me, my sense gradually return, and I sink back into the shadows to retrieve my forgotten cooler…

________

I've been finding myself here, nearly every night since I followed him. Staring into the dark room, so close to the glass, I can feel it's chill. He's clueless, the drunk, sleeping away in his messy bed. I doubt he'd notice my shadow darkening the moonlight if I were to stand, and if I were to open his window, would he notice the wind flying into his room?

My cravings have only gotten worse, yet I've managed to keep myself contained thus far. I don't know how much longer I can hold out. Desperately, I've been trying to come up with an alternative- slime nor fish have helped, so I thought to try my hand at hunting a larger animal, but unfortunately my instincts are less interested in helping me catch such prey. No, they only hunger for that which lies sleeping inside the room, the creature I can't tear my eyes from: a human.

The only option I've turned up is to simply eat. But I dare not bring harm to anyone in my new home; not only would such a disappearance be devastatingly obvious, I care for my fellows who live here. I don't know if it's the hunger plaguing my mind, but the idea that I can 'just have a taste' and not actually hurt him seems to have wormed into my skull. Even if I eat him, then release him later, would that do anything to ease my cravings?

Unsure if I'm in control anymore, my claws reach towards the window…

______

With ease, the latch lifts, and the breeze blows open the window, sending the autumnal air into the room. Testing my earlier questions, I stand to full height, my deformed shadow darkening the room like a storm. No change comes from the room's owner, his snores still quiet and steady. Squeezing in through the opening isn't easy, I doubt it would be simple even if I weren't in this monstrous form. Despite my desperate struggles to enter the room, my movements are near silent, hardly a disturbance as I pull myself from the narrow opening.

Staring down at the sleeping drunkard, looming over his bed, my hunger draws me nearer with every moment, mouth watering at the promise of flesh. I only stop once I'm hovering just above his face, so close his gentle breaths cause sway to my bangs. The scent of prey surrounds me, drool trails from my lip, and my tongue caresses a fang. My claws demanding action spring onto his shoulders, maw widening over his head as he's jolted from slumber.

He's left with no time to process as I clamp jaws around his neck, his head engulfed by flesh. Delight courses through me, urging me to continue my meal, telling me how foolish I was to think I'd get away with only a taste.

I've clambered onto the bed to sit over my prey, with height advantage I grasp hold of his arms to swallow more of him down, greedily consuming as much as I can at once. Hardly stopping to adjust, I hoist him from his covers, his boozy flavors hazing my mind. Swallowing around his middle, his light, rotund, pudge melting on my tongue, some part of me manages to acknowledge the curious lack of struggle from my prey, yet it is swept away by the need to devour.

Lifting him high as I can, I push more of him into my throat, gulping down his meatier parts and leaving the thinner part of his legs still outside. By now, he has begun to enter my stomach, simultaneously quelling and fueling my hunger as the weight of being prey-filled grows. The last few swallows are bliss as my mouth clears, prey traveling down my throat to my bulging center.

Left kneeling on the bed, stomach distended and warm, mind fuzzy from fullness, my attention focuses to the orb in my lap. Running a hand over it incites a few small movements from within, yet nothing like the struggles of fear ridden prey I've had before. Something about it greatly disappoints my predatory side. Still, I huff with pleasure, the growing ache that's been in my center for months finally at an end…