#like. we all saw this coming we knew what would be beneath the lid

[bidokja]

goddd...damn reincarnation is so fucking good honestly. very few, if any, reincarnation series feel as well done. I'm really looking forward to s3 and what it's bound to finally reveal about vermouth

[servantofclio]

Fragment of a Dream

Not a new fic -- I originally wrote and posted this in 2018, but it seemed appropriate to give it a new life now.

Solas paces through the woods until he can see the firelight flickering through the trees, smell the wood smoke and halla hide, and hear the sounds of laughter and song. He pauses, but the halla do not startle at his presence, so he comes closer still, close enough to make out faces around the fire and the glint of golden hair in the flames’ light.

She wears a smile such as he has hardly ever seen on her before, wide and bright. As other Dalish beckon to her, she downs the last of her cup and rises, taking their hands, wheeling together in a dance beside the fire. Her hair swings in heavy plaits as she whirls, throwing her head back and laughing.

She looks younger than he ever knew her. Sometimes dreamers make themselves so.

This is her dream, after all. He has no place here, but sometimes he finds himself here, all the same. He lingers on the outskirts, watching her and her folk laugh and sing and dance together.

When he first awoke, the spectacle of them dancing, with the marks of their masters on their faces, would have torn his heart into shreds of rage and misery. All the struggle, all the sacrifice, and for nothing? For this?

But she taught him to see deeper. Now, in the shadows of her dream, he sees the joy of fellowship, the keen pleasures of rhythm and movement, and his heart grows sore for other reasons.

She spins out of the circle of dancers, stumbling and laughing, and turns toward him, and her eyes grow wide.

Solas freezes. He had not even noticed himself creeping closer, like a starving dog.

But she sees him, and her face is young but her eyes are her own, and she holds out her hand.

He should withdraw now and depart: leave her to these dreams of a time and home long gone. Let her take what comfort she can from them, and return to his own work.

And yet. Her lips move, and form his name -- one his current confederates do not speak, nor even know -- and he steps forward, out of the trees.

Dream though this is, her hand feels solid and her arm strong as she draws him closer, tipping her head back to search him with her gaze.

“You should join us,” she says.

“This is not my place,” he tells her.

Her brow knits, as if this makes no sense. “It could be.”

“Vhenan --”

She cuts him off with a kiss, throwing her arms around his neck with enough force to surprise him. She tastes warm, heady, of pine and lightning. He responds before he can think, and stares at her in astonishment when she withdraws.

Her eyes are bright beneath half-shut lids. Her mouth curls up at one side, slyly.

He saw her drunk but once, reeling her way out of the tavern. “Bull,” she had said in answer to the query in his startled expression. “Somethin’ ‘bout the dragon. Some… gods.” She had rested her forehead against his shoulder, steadying herself. He had put his arms around her, to help.

“Perhaps you should return to your chamber,” he’d suggested, more amused than anything else.

“Please,” she’d replied, muffled, and so he’d escorted her up the stairs, keenly conscious of the lean of her slim frame against his shoulder.

She is less drunk now, though memory’s intoxication is potent. “Stay,” she says, softly as the music rises behind her. “For one night. One hour, Solas. See how we live now.”

“I cannot,” he protests. Should not, stands closer to the truth.

“Cannot,” she says. “Or don’t wish to?”

Her gaze is all challenge. When he hesitates to answer, she starts to draw away.

This is the worst kind of folly, but he does not want to resist her. “An hour,” he says.

She smiles, victorious and dazzling, and draws him toward the light.

[fangirlshrewt97]

Rest Among Thigh Skies

That title makes no sense, but the alternative title is ‘Airplane Nap’ so it stays. 

Inspired by this photo of Tarak and who I am guessing is SSR’s son, Karthikeya:

Anyways, real life is still not settled into a new routine just yet, so I am just happy to be able to write something, even if is it short. 

Hope you all enjoy it!

///

Charan groaned quietly as he stretched in his seat, putting a finger in his ear and shaking it to clear the ear block from the plane taking off. He then laced both hands together and stretched, groaning a little louder at the pop from his spine.

"I'm getting too old for this." He grumbled as he fell back into the seat. He toed off his shoes, bringing his socked feet to rest on the empty neighboring seat. Curling against the airplane wall, he burrowed against the seat, hugging himself tightly.

"The plane rides or the press?" Rajamouli jokingly asked from across the table.

"Both." Charan grunted as he closed his eyes.

Rajamouli laughed. "I don't understand what you're complaining about. You're still young."

Charan pointedly ignored him.

"Ah but Nana, unlike you they have to do stunts. Like coming down 20 feet in the air from a chariot held by wires." Karthikeya Rajamouli interrupted.

"So? Not like they aren't supported the whole way?" Rajamouli argued.

"Leave him be Karthik," Tarak countered, making Charan's eyes open. "It's like arguing with a buffalo."

"Hey!" Rajamouli protested.

Ram peeked at his friend from beneath half closed eyes. Tarak had called dibs on the airplane couch as soon as they'd left for the airport, and sprawled on it immediately upon boarding. Charan had assumed he'd fallen asleep before take off. Apparently not.

The man was half on his side, half on his back, one leg on the verge of falling off the sofa completely. One arm was tucked under his head, and his other hand lay across his stomach.

Charan felt a small spark of envy at how much more comfortable he looked but also knew the couch could not actually be wide enough to properly accommodate Tarak's stockier build.

Karthikeya laughed at Tarak's comment, flipping the lid on his tablet and handing it to his dad. "Ok Nana, the changes are all noted, you can look it over once and check before we give it to the crew to set up once we land."

Rajamouli accepted the tablet with a smile. "Thanks Karthik."

The younger Rajamouli then went to use the restroom, as a quiet settled in the main cabin, Rajamouli engrossing himself on the contents of the tablet. Charan placed his headphones over his ears, and started his playlist. And Tarak seemed to have actually fallen asleep.

Karthikeya stretched too once he was out of the toilet, shrugging off the jacket on an empty seat. He considered the seat, and looked at how Charan was curled up in half to fit before looking at Tarak. His lips twitched mischievously. He walked over to the older man, gently shaking his shoulder. He grunted before blearily opening one eye. "What?"

"Can we share? Like when I was smaller?"

Tarak squinted at him, but clearly must have been exhausted to argue because he shrugged and uncrossed his arm, dropping one foot to the floor. Karthikeya grinned, going to sit at the very edge of the couch before he laid back until his head was pillowed on Tarak's thick thigh. He lifted both feet to rest on the airplane wall, and loosely hugged his chest. 

Tarak grunted as Karthikeya finished settling before hitching a leg over his chest. He nuzzled into the giant pillow he had claimed and fell back asleep.

Finally, the only one left awake was the director. 

When Rajamouli looked up from his work, he chuckled at the sight of the three sleeping men, who when all was said and done he considered his children, having seen them all grow up. He snorted when he saw the position of Tarak and Karthikeya.

Oh how many days in years past would a much younger Karthik be so eager to see his Tarak Annayya to play with him. And then eventually nap with when they tired each other out.

He pulled out his phone, snapping a photo of the two of them, admiring the picture. He sent it to Rama, knowing his wife would love it.

And for good measure, he snapped one of Charan too, curled in his seat just like Rhyme liked to curl into him.

A yawn escaped him when he finished sending the picture. He blinked, glancing at his wrist watch. They still had another hour and a half before the plane landed.

He was the director. He deserved a nap too, no?

///

Tagging (If I missed out on anyone in the taglist, please let me know!):  @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @jrntrtitties @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864 @zackcrazyvalentine @stanleykubricks @tulodiscord @teddybat24 @sally-for-sally @jadebomani @stuckyandlarrystuff @veteran-fanperson @ohfuckoffpls  @carminavulcana @boochhaan @doodlesofthelastpage @filesbeorganized @meownique @ssabriel @meastradeur @ronika-writes-stuff​ @umbrulla​

[forestwhisper3]

Teaser for the next chapter of Dragon of the Sun:

Despite his rough arrival, Leo had to admit that Usagi's world was...beautiful.

It was strange, walking around in broad daylight. The warmth of the sun felt almost unfamiliar without layers of clothes hiding everything beneath, and being able to freely walk into the village he'd spotted before without anyone running or screaming at the sight of him felt...nice.

Mikey would love-

Immediately, his heart clenched tightly in his chest, and he had to take a moment to center himself as he remembered yet again why he was so desperate to get home.

                           XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Done already?" he asked when he saw Mikey get up from the couch without his comic. "You just sat down not too long ago, didn't you?"

It had only been a few minutes, in fact. Regardless of the amusing and ironic fact that Mikey was a speed reader second only to Donnie, even he couldn't have finished it that fast. Especially since he knew Mikey liked going through them a second time just for the artwork.

"I'm gettin' kinda hungry, so I was gonna get started on lunch," Mikey grinned, but it was a bit too stiff. Too...off.

Something was wrong. He had a good idea what it was, too, but going by how Mikey kept fidgeting in place and his eyes refused to meet his, he wasn't going to get anywhere if he tried to draw it out. He'd missed the chance to do that weeks ago.

He just had to be patient. Mikey would come to him eventually. He always did.

"Just let me know if you need help."

He allowed the unspoken meaning linger between them, and felt some of his concern ebb away when Mikey's grin shifted into something much more genuine and warm.

"You got it, bro."

                               XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"We must make haste to Edo," Usagi said, bringing him out of his thoughts. "Do you know how to ride a horse?"

"Oh. Uh...no. Not exactly a lot of opportunities to do that where I'm from."

"Then we will procure just one other and ride in pairs." His friend smiled a bit. "Perhaps, should we find a moment to spare while traveling, I can teach you some of the basics."

He perked up at the offer. He doubted there would ever be a time he'd need to know how to ride a horse in New York, but learning obscure things had become a sort of secret hobby of his over the years ever since Master Splinter had taught him about alligator pressure points. It was always fun to see the absolutely gob smacked expressions of the people around him whenever he knew about something or managed to pull off a move or skill no one expected of him.

It was a trait he shared with-

The excitement that had built up in him faded, although he did his best to smile back.

"Only if there's time. I don't want to put Lord Noriyuki in any more danger."

"Of course," Usagi nodded.

He paused for a moment, as if he were going to say something else, but ultimately kept moving.

His mind was quick to drag him back the moment silence fell between them.

                         XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Someone, quick!" Donnie exclaimed. "Grab the-!"

Scepter, he finished in his mind. If they managed to grab it, then Drako and the Damiyo's son wouldn't be able to freeze them like they had Raph, and it would make it easier to fight them. It was a good plan. Probably the only chance they'd have of making this fight turn in their favor.

But they'd anticipated the move, and in moments, they were all frozen in midair.

"Uh..."

All of them, except for Mikey.

He felt ice shoot through his veins at the enraged snarl that echoed through the air. He could see the hatred that burned in their eyes. The desire to destroy. To kill. And it was all aimed at his little brother.

His little brother, who had been left to face it all alone.

"Insignificant insect! You only delay the inevitable! There is no- Gah!"

Something shot passed them, and it wasn't until it clattered to the ground after hitting its mark did he realize that it had been a pot lid. He felt a spark of pride wriggle through the worry and panic, even as another part of him wanted to shake his head. Throwing weapons specifically designed for it was one thing, but throwing things not meant to be thrown was harder than it looked. It said a lot about Mikey for him to have it done it so well under duress.

The panic returned stronger than before as Mikey sprinted forward, eyes focused on the falling Time Scepter. His expression was determined. Resolute in a way he'd never seen before- even when facing down the Foot and the Shredder. Then again, he'd never had to face such a threat on his own before now.

He should never have had to.

Casey cried out in shock somewhere behind them, but Leo was too focused on Mikey as he lunged forward, hand reaching out for the scepter as it fell.

He didn't even have time to yell out a warning before a large tail slammed into him, knocking him away and into one of the support pillars hard enough for part of it to break off.

"Mikey!!"

Mikey slumped to the ground unmoving, his plastron cracked and a trickle of blood dripping down from the back of his head.

Leo felt his heart stop.

"MIKEY!!"

                             XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"-san. Leonardo-san!"

He jerked back into the present, Usagi frowning slightly at him as he held the reins of a horse. Still, his friend didn't question it until they made it back onto the path outside the village.

"Such lack of focus is unlike you, Leonardo-san," he murmured quietly. "Are you well?"

"I'm-..."

No.

"I-..."

I'm not.

He trailed off, words failing him as he struggled to keep everything at bay. In doing so, he missed the way Usagi's frown deepened.

I'm...scared.

But he couldn't falter- not now.

His family needed him.

[the-masked-ram]

Mannequin-Part Four

A/N: Please be aware, this is the climax of this story, it is a DARK CONTENT series. This chap has torture and non-con in it. DO NOT PROCEED WITH ANY OF THIS if this bothers you. There is an epilogue to come This is part of the Wheel of Mistfortune collab hosted by @cyancherub CW: dark content, not sfw, non-con, medical torture, knife play, gun play, drug use, amputation, body horror, horror, minor character death, serial killer, living dolls, stalking, gore, violence, ambiguous ending, abduction, corruption, nightmares, mind break, breath play, dacryphilia, obedience, fear play, fem reader

Part Four: Every time we touch your hands are colder, colder

You were distinctly aware of the warmth pressing against your side, a solid object that felt alive, the gentle sound of a heartbeat. You were even more aware of the fact that nothing sat beneath you, were you floating? Were you still asleep? You felt strangely cognitive for still dreaming.

Your eyes rolled beneath your lids, no, you were awake. It was strange, your eyelids fought strongly against being lifted, like they were weighted down. Your head lolled, chest heaved, but nothing else seemed to work. Finally, finally, your eyes fluttered opened, and you saw the white of Tsukishima’s shirt covered with an apron. Felt his strong arms cradle you as he carried you through a dimly lit room. “Hm, awake now?” he grunted, looking down at you with a quirked brow. “I’m glad, I definitely would prefer to see your face during this. Though, I’m not sure if you wouldn’t prefer to sleep through it.” The smile he gave you was cold, bone-chilling, and something unhinged glittered in the depths of his gaze. It was tiny, the spark of insanity, and you wondered if you really saw it. You wanted to ask what was going on, you tried, voice coming out in a muffled whine and throat constricting to form words, but your mouth didn’t work with you. His smile grew, and now you knew something was off for sure. That the fear twisting in your chest was right.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to talk soon enough, but for a few hours you’ll be mute. It’s easier that way,” he murmured. Your eyes widened and the first thing you did was try to move your arm, it responded for a second, the muscles twitching spastically but making no real movement. “Oh, yes. You also won’t be able to move,” Tsukishima said as if it was an after thought, pursing his lips as he looked at something just out of your eyesight. “Now how to do this.” Your muscles ached as you called to them over and over and tried to get them to do what you asked. However, you were nothing but a useless lump in his arms, mute, barely breathing, and unable to even twitch a finger. Your throat ached as it strained to scream in frustration, all you could do was scrunch your eyes closed and try to catch your breath.

“Don’t wear yourself out,” Tsukishima said as he placed you onto a flat surface. “I want to see the panic in your eyes when you realize what’s going to happen.” Your gaze flicked around as he manipulated you like a doll, rolling you onto your side, and pulling your shirt up the entire way, exposing the dip of your back. “Beautiful,” he whispered, as he maneuvered you onto your stomach. You felt his thumb rub over your skin, tracing your spine with loving reverence. “You know, I didn’t think I’d find my replacement so soon,” he said. “But then you found me, you sought me out, and I knew it had to be you. That you would be the best addition to my collection since I’d started. That maybe I could be a bit gentler with you since you wanted me to.”

His voice slowly went from awed to just a little manic, his words coming faster and his fingers tapping against your back excitedly. “The others never wanted me like you did. They didn’t pursue me and look at me with adoration, they didn’t fall into step when I told them to. You are perfect, but I still can’t let you run away,” he growled, his hands grabbing possessively onto the curve of your waist and gripping so hard you knew it should hurt. You could feel the amount of force he was applying, but no pain came, and for some reason that terrified you even more. Pressure but no awareness beyond that, what did that mean? What had he done to you? Your eyes flickered close for a moment, tears welling at your waterline and spilling down your cheeks.

Everything seemed slower, you could hear your heart and how it thumped erratically even though your breaths seemed shallow. Fear rushed through you, causing endless whirling questions. Questions that you didn’t want answered, but honestly probably already knew the end results. What did he want from you? What was he going to do? What had he done? Why had he done it? And though he had vaguely explained everything enough that you could piece it together with everything that had been happening lately, you couldn’t let yourself believe it. Perhaps this was just a really horrible, absolutely terrible, nightmare. A whimper fought against your constricting throat as more tears fell. “Shhh, don’t worry, I will take such good care of you,” Tsukishima whispered, and you felt him loom over you for a second, a light pressure on your back and the sound of his gentle excited breath close to where you lay. “We will be together until the end.” His hand appeared within sight before you heard the gentle clicking of buckles and a steady pressure slowly grew on your wrists, your shoulders, your legs, and your ribs. He clicked his tongue as he tightened it more and the restraints became tighter, more painful, until your bones creaked. “Just got to keep you still, if you move more damage will happen than planned,” he sighed, running his thumbs down the sides of your spine, counting under his breath.

You watched him reach off to the side again, coming back with a marker and the shine of something metal, something you couldn’t make out in the glare of the lights. Still, you shivered mentally, your body aching to move, to run, and more tears spilling over your face. You couldn’t see what he was doing as leaned over you, but you heard the pop of the cap coming off the marker, listened to him murmur again, numbers that made no sense to you. He stroked a finger slowly up the middle of your back, pausing at the base of your neck and pressing firmly. Tsukishima made an affirmative noise and the sound of the cap clicking back on again resounded painfully loud in your ears. Was it the fact you couldn’t move, couldn’t see because of that, couldn’t speak, couldn’t feel, that everything was dissolving into insanity around you; were those the reasons you now heard everything like it was an airhorn? You knew you would be trembling if your nerves could respond. You were terrified, but you also were aware pieces of you were slowly giving up, that you were slowly accepting your fate whatever it may be.

“Alright!” his voice brightened, and you blinked against the sudden volume change. “Let’s get started then. Don’t squirm, not that I expected you to, but well… just don’t.” Why? You desperately asked in your head, why? Why? Why!? Why shouldn’t you move? What was he going to do? Was he going to remove your legs? Would you feel anything? Would dismember you and paint you just like those women he left to rot? You wanted to stop your thoughts immediately, you had never meant to actually think those words. You should never have accepted the reality of what you knew was going to happen, what you knew you had been denying no matter how pathetic it had been. Once you gave those thoughts shape, you would be doomed to be aware, to know with every numbed second, every time you felt the pressure of his hands, that your life was limited.

--- Kei looked down at your untouched back, the only mark was the black line he’d placed across your neck. The spot he would cut and ruin you forever, ruin you for everyone else but make you even more perfect for him. He felt his breath sharpen and for a moment his hand shook on the scalpel he held. Excitement rushed through every vessel in his body, and he swallowed, forcing himself to calm down.

He couldn’t, wouldn’t, mess this up. Especially because he couldn’t wait to make you limp in his arms and then slide into your perfect cunt. He remembered the wide look you’d given him before he’d flipped you over on the table, the moment you recognized something was terribly wrong in your normal little world. It had been striking, beautiful, he would remember that look until he died. His index finger slid along the back of the blade, preparing for the stabilization he needed. A smile quirked the edge of his lips, as his hand took position, and he pressed the sharp metal into your skin without hesitation. “Oh,” he breathed, it was gorgeous, watching the skin, the fascia, and muscle split, seeing the blood well. “I was right, you are the one.”

There was no response from you other than then a muffled squeak that didn’t make it past your lips. He suppressed a shiver, biting his lip as he carefully cut deeper, watching red fibers part under his deft movements. The silver glinted ethereally against the hellish color of red splotching it and Kai wondered if it was possible to fall even more in love with you. The slices were exact, definitive and perfected from years of practice. Slowly the white of bone and yellowish white of the disc appeared. That’s what he wanted, and he inhaled sharply, stopping his hand for a second as he realized he had been silent for a while. “Your spine is so beautiful. One of the best I’ve ever seen. It’s a pity I need to cut into it,” he whispered, and he knew if you could move, you would have fought back.

That’s why he needed to do this. He knew you were a fighter and he needed to give you and him time to fall even more in love until there was no desire to leave in your brain. Sadly, that meant destroying your ability to run, your ability to struggle against him. “Trust me, you won’t feel a thing,” he soothed, and with gentle shallow strokes he cut into the fibrous tissue, essentially ruining your ability to move. He wasn’t sure how long he was at the surgery, could he call it surgery? It felt like it was. It was important, and in his opinion, bettering you. He cut away just enough tissue to damage your motor skills while not killing you, then with deft movements he cleaned and sewed the muscle back together.

Antibiotics, bandages, aftercare, it was all a familiar part of his ritual. But he didn’t look at your face until he was done, until he made sure your paralytic medications were reintroduced. And when he saw you, truly saw you, he smiled. It was the strange little smirk he always did, lopsided and just a quirk of the lips, he saw the glimmer of hope and recognition in your eyes. “You know I think you would look best with a more natural tone for makeup,” he murmured, once again talking to himself and dashing all your hopes in one go. He brushed your cheek with a gentle thumb, a touch that worshipped you like you were the prettiest porcelain doll he had ever seen. And truly that’s all most people thought he saw. Most people thought the women he chose were just dolls in his eyes, and perhaps they were to an extent, at least when they weren’t perfect. He had always liked breaking his toys. But his favorites he took care of, he put them back together again when they fell apart, he cleaned them, he loved them.   But you would also be so much more. So, so much more. You were a living breathing thing, a human that would be with him forever, never able to leave him, and once you accepted it, he would let you speak. He couldn’t wait to hold you. He picked you up gently, “But all that can wait. Right now, let’s just clean you up a bit, I’m sure you are exhausted.” The way he wrapped his arms around you made him incredibly aware of how small you were compared to him. How he could probably snap you in half if he wanted. Still, he cradled you against him like he was afraid you’d break. You looked up at him, with drooping lids and exhaustion pulling at your silent features. Completely unable to control your own body, it did as it wanted and was even more limp in his arms than before.

“Now, let’s get you set up in bed,” he said, just barely adjusting the stiff collar protecting your neck from further damage. He had never treated one of his collection so gently before, you were special. He could see it in your eyes. There was still some stupid inkling of hope in them as you stared at his side profile, and he walked you to your resting place. He carefully placed pillows behind you, settled you in, and covered you gently. He watched you with adoring eyes, seeing only perfection in your frozen features. He couldn’t wait for you to meet the others. Perhaps he’d wait for you to heal before he stuffed the one, you’d be replacing. You’d never be stuffed though; he’d never break you accidentally. “You’ll be safe here, I promise,” he whispered, leaning over you. Then he did something he’d been thinking about for weeks. He pressed a gentle kiss to your unresponsive lips. His eyes catching yours in the process and narrowing with pleasure at the way yours widened. The tip of his tongue lightly traced your lower lip and his teeth nibbled at it. “That doesn’t mean we won’t have fun though,” he groaned.

--- He was far more insane than you originally thought. Your breath caught painfully in your chest, he had reduced your medication some, but something was wrong. You still couldn’t move. You had passed out at some point the night or maybe day, he had cut you open. You awoke to being able to feel things again, specifically the sensation of his fingers trailing gently over your collarbones, plucking lazily at the buttons on your blouse. But then the pain came and the nauseating way your head seemed to be floating away from body. There was a persistent throb in your neck, so deep you were certain you shouldn’t be feeling it. You gasped, finally able to make a sound to express your discomfort. Your eyes fought to wrench open against the grit cementing them close, “H-hurts.”

You couldn’t think of anything beyond that, beyond the endless ache. You were sure it probably hurt more than you felt, you knew you should feel more pain. But you didn’t, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the medications, he was giving you or whatever he had done to you yesterday. “Don’t worry, the pain medications will kick in soon,” he soothed beside you, and there was a shift in the bed, and suddenly his hand wasn’t touching you, but a welcoming cool cloth brushed over your still lowered lids. “Why?” you asked. “Well got to take care of you, who else will? I can’t break my favorite toy,” he said calmly, like it was the most obvious answer.

When the cloth traveled lower you looked over at him, at the blonde hair and warm honey gaze you thought perhaps you could trust at one point. Was that Tsukishima all a lie? Or was he buried still beneath the psychosis? “There you go,” he murmured, and you realized he had unbuttoned your shirt and was slowly wiping your body clean. “You are so beautiful, my little doll.” Your eyes rolled down, staring at the way he watched the cloth roll over your pebbling nipples, the sensation dulled by the roaring ache in your body. Then much to your horror he leaned down to follow the cloth with his tongue, looking at you through hooded eyes. It was a sight that likely would have driven you mad with desire just a mere forty-eight hours earlier. To have such a gorgeous man Tsukishima Kei worshipping your breasts and staring at you like he could barely contain himself. But your innocent crush now had blood splashed all over it and instead of looking gorgeous and lustful you saw madness carefully encapsulated in the shimmer of his eyes.

His teeth scraped across your nipple, tugging it lightly and you hated the feeling, but you couldn’t look away from his magnetic stare. He was right though, the medications were working, and you could feel the pain ebbing away. So that all you could focus on was the sensation of his possessive touch on your hip, the way his free hand dragged the still damp cloth over your ribs. “Stop,” you whispered, your voice raspy and fragile. Your skin trembled in his touch, making you all the more aware of how detached you felt from your body. He smirked, a devilish curl of his lip against your soft flesh, as he dragged his tongue to follow the cool path of moisture left by the towel. Nuzzling his nose against the fat of your tits, he bit down against your other nipple and finally you responded, finally you felt a dulled spark of pleasure. It turned your stomach, but his eyes seemed to glow with satisfaction.

“Good, I think that’s enough for today, we have plenty of time and I really shouldn’t have pushed you at all when you are healing, but you should see how delicious you look,” Tsukishima said, as it that excused him, as if the fact you needed to heal at all was ok because it was his fault. You glared at him, but even that felt exhausting, how were you so tired after just waking up? What had he done to you? What was taking such a toll on you? You blinked at him blearily as he carefully buttoned up your shirt again and this sense of comfort overtook you knowing that you were at least covered. It nearly made you laugh because you couldn’t exactly stop him from stripping you in your sleep. But instead, you let sleep take you into it’s shadowy fingers again, falling asleep to the feeling of Tsukishima’s hand sifting through your hair.

---- He held the flat blade, trailing it down your legs with a look of utter rapture and contemplation all at once. He usually removed these the first night. But they looked so lovely on you, he desperately wanted you to keep them. He hummed thoughtfully. “What are you… doing?” you asked, he glanced up. “Debating, I’ve steered away from making you complete because… honestly, I already feel like you are complete,” he murmured, tipping the knife on its point to trace a light circle over the joint of your knee. You blinked in confusion for a moment, he could see you trying to puzzle things out and he waited to see that look of shock, which look he absolutely loved on your pretty features. Ah, there it was. The way your face morphed not in just shock but almost horror. Though you tried to control it, not like it wasn’t obvious how normal people felt about Kei’s needs and wants, he found it cute that you tried to hide it.

“I’ll stay, I won’t fight you,” you babbled, begged. He grinned, thin and like the blade poised in his hand, “You can’t fight me. It’s just… will cutting them off make you even better?” You trembled and your chin jerked as you tried to shake your head. His grin grew, growing more maniacal, “Don’t worry, like I said, you are already perfect. And it’s not like you can escape. You need me now, just like I need you.” He wanted to say he still saw the love and adoration in your eyes. There was a part of him that craved that as much as he craved the fear he saw in your weak trembling limbs. But he didn’t see it, not a spark, though the pity he saw, he knew he could manipulate it. He’d done so before. Kei knew you still had hope that somehow this would turn out for the better. That somehow, he would turn out to be the good man you had originally thought he was. When did you turn into such an optimist?

He moved up your body, taking care to drag the flat of the blade along the center of your torso, all the way up to your quivering throat until he moved your chin higher with it, forcing your pain clouded eyes to meet his. He studied your expression, tilting his head like a curious predator. “You need more meds,” he murmured. You shook your head in a desperate jerking motion, hoping to deter him. But he could see the agony starting to grow in your countenance. “Don’t argue,” he rolled his eyes. “You won’t want to be without it.” He injected the IV attached to your arm with the medication and soon your eyelids were fluttering. If Kei was honest with himself, he could barely wait, the only thing stopping him was the fact that you needed to heal lest he kill you and break his favorite doll he had ever found before the fun even got a chance to start.

He pressed his lips as he watched you slip farther into sleep, seeing the rise and fall of your chest, his greedy eyes tracing your body. He brushed his finger along the blade in his hand with impatience slowly bubbling in his chest. He needed something to take the edge off. He wandered away in hopes that one of the others could satisfy his urges. --- This was how the last few days, or maybe weeks went, in a drug induced haze where you drifted in and out of sleep, and Tsukishima spent time caring for you. There was a part of you that had begun to crave his touch, his company, it kept your mind from spinning into the dark pit of despair just waiting to engulf you. There wasn’t much to do now except think too much about everything, especially since you’d gotten better and now realized you were paralyzed for the most part.

One arm could move though it was flimsy and not well coordinated, you could talk, move your head now, but you were still completely reliant on Tsukishima. The thought you would need the man who had caused this to care for you for the rest of your life, made you cry regularly. You weren’t sure why he kept you alive, but he had become much more affectionate with you. Even if you were spitting out vitriol or begging for freedom. His hands wandered when he wiped you down, cupping your breasts, your thighs, putting just enough pressure that you could feel it to through the tingling numbness now overtaking your body. Nothing was sacred, he had seen everything, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he crossed that line. “I think it’s time you finally get your face made up,” Tsukishima said one day. Your drugs had been tapering off, you seemed to get them less often or maybe it was less of a dose because you were finding yourself more coherent.

“What do you mean?” you asked, did this mean you were going to be killed? You weren’t sure if you were ready to die, but was this really living? “Make up, got to keep my doll pristine now that she is ready to join the others,” he said with a twisted smile. Others? Were there others that were still alive like you? He sat beside you, and to be honest the tickle of the brush, the thick application of stain and gloss was oddly wonderful. It felt soothing to have him stroke over your face, pamper you for a totally unnecessary reason, and for a moment you could forget this man so carefully dolling you had held you captive. You could forget that he had paralyzed you.

It didn’t last long though, because soon that maniacal glint was back in his eye as he dragged his thumb along the bottom line of your lip, cleaning up some gloss. The smile he sent you was too wide, too excited, and it crashed upon you with a panic inducing sharpness. This was your life now, either that or it was death, but you couldn’t even choose that for yourself. “Now. Now is the time,” he whispered, voice husky, needy as he stared down at you with quickly growing pupils. Small parts of you shivered under his touch as he finally began to look at you as more than just an object, he finally looked at you as something to defile. His fingers were dizzying as they made their way across your skin and over your clothes, undoing buttons one by one. His eyes were darkening slowly as they swept across new skin that he’d seen before but never in this sort of situation.

He worked you free of your shirt methodically, brushing his long fingers over your flesh as if he were anointing it, and you wondered if you could really feel it or if it was because you were seeing it that your mind was playing tricks on you. He leaned down to lick a freed nipple and scrape his teeth across it. There, you could definitely feel that. The little spark of pleasure caused by his teeth that caused your stomach to squirm in revulsion. “Ah, you like a little pain,” Tsukishima grinned, and you wanted to scream that you didn’t, that you just couldn’t feel it otherwise. But he was pinching his nails tightly around your other nipple, causing the parts of your body that would respond to jerk violently. A salacious moan dripped from your throat, only growing in volume as he left a bite on the soft skin of your breast. You were horrified, tears pricked your eyes painfully, you hated that he could make you feel good. You bit back another groan in hopes of making him frustrated, but your dreams were dashed, and he laughed instead.

“That’s right, make me work for it,” he hissed. Was this still Tsukishima? His persona, the person you had felt yourself falling for was so different than this pure insanity that lay behind the mask. He sank his teeth into your side, sucking lustfully at the skin until you were certain it would break it, he pulled away with blood staining his teeth. But the mark was small, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what he had caused with his scalpel. He leaned in and whispered, “Taste yourself.” Then he kissed you. Tsukishima had done a lot of things, but he’d never kissed you on the lips this deeply until now. The kiss was sickly sweet, but easily addictive. It was with this action you forgot you hated this man, you forgot who or what he was. The coppery tang of blood didn’t matter, and your mind was drifting in ecstasy.

His tongue slid over your lip, and you welcomed it as it burned across your own. So warm and wet and sinful, it pressed and pushed until you were moaning, and his fingers were working on your zipper. He kissed you like a lover, with a tongue rolling across yours and consuming you so completely it was only natural to give in. You wanted him and your hand twitched with the need to wrap around him. “Such a good little doll,” he murmured as he pulled back just far enough that his breath still brushed your lips. You looked up at him through a lustful haze only for it to be broken as he dragged your pants down your lifeless legs. Desire changed to fear within a second, you didn’t want this. But you knew whether you wanted it or not didn’t matter, he would give it to you. He would take it from you.

He hovered over you as you panicked, and you could see the calculating glee in his maddened eyes as his fingers lingered on the edge of your panties. They danced along the delicate lace he placed upon your body just moments before. “Tuskishima,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and weak as your throat trembled with terror. “Don’t.” “Don’t?” he mocked. “You wouldn’t be telling me what to do? Or are you begging for your purity, something I know you don’t have.”

You just wanted to move, you just wanted to run. You desperately, frantically, focused on trying to move your legs, but they didn’t respond. He slipped his fingers past the last barrier to where your body betrayed you. You could feel him glide through the slick glistening on your pussy and you nearly cried, instead you bit down on your lip, refusing to let him get such a reaction. He watched you through honeyed eyes as you fought against yourself. His fingers traced your clit, which you were distinctly aware you could barely feel. Then they traveled lower to where your walls stayed slack. “Can already fit two fingers in you,” he said. “So sloppy already.” He pushed in and you felt pressure but nothing else, no pain, no pleasure. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it just was completely against what you wanted. Tears pricked your eyes, and you shook your head slowly.

“Please, stop,” your voice was trembling and finally the tears spilled over, and you could feel the heat of them drip down your cheeks.

As he plowed through your sloppy cunt he kissed his way up your body, slow and lazy. There was something in the way Kei kissed, even when his insanity had a strong hold, there was something sweet about it, gentle. They often tickled, so light you could barely feel until his teeth nipped at your skin and then you arced your neck. A groan would follow but still it was like there were two of him warring for control. The one violating your folds, and the one kissing your limp body like it was an altar.

His thumb dragged over your lower lip as he jabbed at a spot inside your cunt that finally sent off a dull sensation. But to you after not feeling anything it was like lightning. Violent pleasure racked your frame, and he chuckled above you before he replaced his thumb with his mouth.

His tongue swept over yours, rolling against the roof of your mouth. It was a toxic kiss, drowning you in pleasure as his fingers slammed against that spot inside you again and again. You couldn’t breathe easily. It was hard to think with him scooping out everything you were, who you used to be, and rearranging it so easily. You couldn’t even fight against him; you didn’t want to. It felt good. It was the first sensation that felt purely good in weeks, or was it months, you couldn’t tell.

You could feel parts of your brain lighting up. Parts that had been darkened for so long. It sparked like a violent fork of lightening across your neuro pathways, and it was so similar to an orgasm. Except so full and emotional, like every stress and fear you’d felt shattered away. You broke away from Kei’s all-consuming kiss so you could gasp in air. Your eyelids fluttered and your chest heaved in a staccato rhythm.

When the world stopped shaking and tumbling around you everything came back into focus and Kei was the first thing you saw. His face looked intrigued, maliciously pleased, but you realized he’d pulled free from your cunt, licking drops of your slick from his fingers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone orgasm after the surgery,” he whispered, his voice nearly trembling with excitement. “I knew it. I always knew you were the one. Now it’s been confirmed.”

You shook your head, your brain fogged and confused, “The one for what?”

“People always leave me, and my dolls they always die eventually. But you are strong, you can’t leave now, and you’ve survived everything with far better outcomes than anyone else. It was always a learning process. I never graduated from medical school. Working in the morgue was my fall back. Turned out to be the perfect cover story,” Kei said, his voice had turned soft now, contemplative as he began to clean up.

You were grateful that it seemed he was done for the day. But as per usual you read the situation wrong, entirely wrong. Slowly Kei pulled out a beautifully shining revolver. Something old, something heavy, something he took care of. Your jaw tensed as he rolled the bullet chamber and you listened to each section click into place until it finally slowed to a stop.

“Did you know, if you add fear to sex that the orgasm is often stronger?” Kei said, and once again his voice was calm, pensive.

It was as if he wasn’t talking about pointing a gun at you while fucking into your disabled body. It was as if he wasn’t threatening to accidentally pull the trigger and possibly kill you. He’d already maimed you it couldn’t get much worse, right? Yet still you wanted to live, that innate desire to survive filled you. You watched him with wide eyes as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

He revealed beautifully pale skin, a lanky and lightly muscled body. It was something you would normally want; it was something you would normally beg to touch. But every ounce of romance had been stripped away, hadn’t it? Still, you felt your heart speed up and you were certain that it wasn’t from fear. There was an anxious desire in your heart, a need to make him happy.

You weren’t sure when that had started to happen. You were certain it was a thing before he had abducted you. Yet you couldn’t be sure. That life, when you went to work everyday, drank coffee, ate foods, and god forbid were able to walk, seemed like so long ago. Was this even your life anymore, weren’t you someone else now?

So, didn’t it make sense that you found yourself caught up in his web, letting him lead you down every path? You followed Kei willingly now, so quickly, after he showed you just a little bit of pleasure. He called you special, he wouldn’t hurt you. So, when he put the gun to your temple after he was naked and your eyes were flicking in mild terror from his face to his long cock, you knew you wouldn’t even try to talk your way out of this.

Instead, you tilted your chin, leaning into the cool metal as it trailed down your cheek and pressed into the bottom of your jaw. You felt the exit of where the bullet would come out bite deep into your flesh when Kei slid inside your body, sighing as if your cunt was made for him. As if he was coming home after days of being away.

He leaned over you, his body bowing as he watched with eager eyes while he tracked the silver barrel of a gun dragging over your skin. Slowly it stopped right above your ribcage, where your heart beat somewhere in your chest. You swallowed and you were certain it was thumping from the way you could feel the blood pound in your neck.

You both looked at the way your breast dimpled each time he fucked up into you and it pressed against the muzzle. You shivered; you knew it would be so easy for him to lose his grip. There was no safety, you both could get hurt. You could die! But neither of you tried to stop it, you didn’t argue with him, and Kei in fact began to move faster.

“You look so scared,” he hissed, and he was right, you could feel how big your eyes were.

“You’re scared but not one little worry passed those lips, not one scream for me to stop. In fact, you’re so sloppy wet it’s almost disgusting,” he smiled widely, all sharp and predatory that it almost reminded you of a dog baring its teeth, “almost.”

He made sure you knew he was enjoying it, “You’re such a good fuck doll. Made so perfect for me. I made you like this.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you responded, and you hated it. Your body tightened around him; your breath became shallow as you whined every time you were blessed with a moment of dull, pleasurable sensation. He grunted above you with pure ecstasy. But never once did his hand waver, and never once did his gaze move from either your face or the metal pressed against your chest.

His other hand pressed one of your limp legs down against your chest and right as things began to feel better, the dull throb began to become noticeable all the time, Kei pulled the hammer back on the revolver. You heard the subtle click and your heart jumped. Your breathing turned into desperate gasps. Your wide eyes stared as the gun rocked with each of his motions and his finger grew taught on the trigger each time he pulled back.

Your gaze flicked to his face, and he smiled at you, staring at your features now, the terror that stained them. You trembled even as you felt your walls attempt to flutter.

“That’s it,” he hissed. “Cum for me.”

You did, and then through narrowed eyes you saw him cum. You saw the rapture on his face. You saw the way his lips parted slightly and heard the soft groan that left his lips. You also saw his finger squeeze. You heard the hammer click down. The last thing you saw as darkness overtook your mind, was Kei’s satiated face.

[shingansoul]

Comfortable (Trigun fic)

Summary:

Vashwood week day 6: " Just because I won’t be here tomorrow doesn’t mean I’m not here now. Can you acknowledge that I lived? That we lived?”

The ways Vash looked at Wolfwood were unlike anything else the undertaker had been privy to in his life up until now. And with it, the emotions they gave him were equally hard to define and face, but the least Vash could do in exchange was to take in the man before him and not the corpse he was waiting to leave behind.

@vashwoodweek

To read on AO3, follow the link below. To read here, continue past the read more!

The way Vash would look at Wolfwood when he thought the other wasn't looking tended to settle into one of three distinct expressions. Because he would try to sneak those glances or stare long and hard when he thought he wasn't being noticed, his own expression was left usually unguarded compared to when actually being spoken to. Wolfwood had made a point of memorizing them all, piecing together as he could the emotions usually left so safeguarded away behind the fake smile and tinted glasses.

There was the not as common but fierce one, a stern and frustrated thing that often gave him grit teeth and the sharpening of eyes. You could visibly see the blonde’s hackles raise and it was usually accompanied by a quick approach full of intent and some kind of fight. It was often a reactionary or even petulant look he would shoot almost exclusively Wolfwood, at least of their little group. It was the one he tried to hide least, it was pointed and full of something so close to real anger that Wolfwood often wished he saw it more, despite himself. Vash should get pissed off, for himself preferably but in general just the same was good too. Wolfwood was already tired in just their short time together from the plastered on entirely servicing persona. He knew there was something inhuman beneath that red jacket and behind blue eyes beyond compare, and he wouldn't be fooled. He wasn't the only wolf amongst sheep it seemed.

In contrast, the most oft one found creeping his face was something Wolfwood was nowhere near brave enough to put a name to. It held such warmth, such blinding fondness that it felt like Wolfwood would certainly catch fire under its intensity like the sun. It was a look that softened all of Vash’s already baby soft features and even if a smile didn't accompany it, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the way his cheekbones pushed up, you could always tell. Affection like that, capturing someone's deep intense gaze like this was something Wolfwood was so terribly unaccustomed to. Even with Miss Melanie who in even his darkest days he never doubted the love of, it was nothing like this. Maybe only Livio with his golden hued and double lidded eyes, always seeming tired yet seeking out the older boy with a fervor unmatched could come close and even then….this was something else.

Vash latched onto him and let himself be guided along by the end of the first day they had met, an outright disconcerting amount of trust in a world like theirs. But Wolfwood saw that it wasn't trust, not at first, and at times not even still. He never gave himself away even as he let himself fall asleep without worry in the backseat beside him, even as he was comfortable enough to seek him out for his melancholic moments when the mask threatened to fall and Wolfwood had the shred of grace not to mention it. Was it for comfort? But what comfort could someone like him give with his bloodied hands, sharp tongue, and acrid heart acting without its own will? All the same, it was always Wolfwood the man sought out whether to ask him the most obtuse of questions to distract himself, to fluster on purpose to give himself something to smile about, the one he would sleep beside at night and lay his tired body against when they crammed into the single bed of a shitty inn they had booked for the night.

Vash had a vulnerable heart, but he was never open with giving anything of himself; he offered his most precious and fragile parts to the world to destroy and scar over and over, but anything of real substance was kept tightly to his chest. Maybe the reason was because of that very way of life that he learned not to give anything else. So why was Wolfwood, sharp teeth and cynicism on his breath the one he clung to?

It was that very thought that had come to mind once more as they made camp one night in their travels, out in the sands between towns, but thankfully despite the cool night air the winds didn't whip at sand to make it hard to settle down. The reporters had taken up the back and shotgun seats of the car for the night not wanting to bother with setting up a fire and the sleeping packs after a long day of driving which left Vash and Wolfwood to either camp out on the sand below or hike up to the roof. The choice was an easy one, and so Wolfwood found himself on lookout shift with Vash in and out of dozing in his lap. Wolfwood laid back with his legs propped up and knees bent, which Vash had taken as an opportunity and was quick to curl on his side next to the undertaker and with only a bit of hesitation he had taken to placing his head against the other's stomach. Wolfwood, with his head propped up against the railing had a view almost directly looking down at his charge’s face anytime he glanced down. He had thought he felt the other’s breath even out so with a cigarette to idly chew on more than taste and smoke between his teeth, he let himself boredly keep an eye out to the moons above and the stars dotting the sky around them.

After maybe half an hour and itching for something to do in the awkward position, he considered the blonde pressed atop him. His flesh hand had grabbed weakly at his pants, his fingers hanging half-in-half out of his pocket while his prosthetic was tucked under him. It couldn't have been comfortable, but he presumed it was probably some small attempt at not making Wolfwood uncomfortable with taking its weight or sharp edges himself. The undertaker huffed a chiding sigh from between his teeth, and with a small shake of his head he leaned into brazenness and reached down to start loosely scratching his blunt nails against the shaved part of Vash’s hair. It had a nice texture against his skin and it was enough movement to keep his finger joints from getting stiff. And so they stayed there like that, content in the moment to just soak this in and not think about tomorrow until the suns were up and responsibilities were shouting in their ears.

Wolfwood found himself nodding off after a while, his cigarette long since burnt to the cartridge and cooled and his eyes getting a bit of that sting tiredness brought. He reached up with his free hand to rub at the bridge of his nose, a groan on his lips without much thought. When his vision was clear again he was greeted with baby blues staring back at him, an indecipherable look on their owner’s face. Vash’s expression was a bit neutral, seeming to study Wolfwood’s face with an intensity as if he were seeing him for the first time. Or rather, perhaps for the last time going by the growing somber tone his attention seemed to bring on. Here was the third look he had noticed, and it was the one he hated the most; Vash looked at him the way a mourner looked at a corpse in a casket, taking in the last vestiges of the person before him despite how he was warm and breathing against him this very moment. Wolfwood grit his teeth, irritation setting in and a reprimand or indignant comment on his lips, heat rising in his chest as his thoughts rolled around in ways he wished they wouldn't. 

‘Does he think so little of me? That I'll just keel over? How can he look at me like that when i'm the one leading him to a death sentence? I'm not dead yet, I won't die here on this stupid journey, not before I get back and nobody will take that from me.’

But the more he looked into searching sad eyes and almost crestfallen expression at this point, the more he felt his impulse to bark and bite abate into something kinder. Wolfwood let himself take a deep breath, Vash’s expression shifting to one of more aware interest as he felt more than watched as Wolfwood gave an equally dramatic exhale. He dragged his fingers against blonde and brown hair forward to rest the back of his knuckles against the soft warm skin of Vash’s cheek. 

“Wolfwood?” His voice was soft and unsure, like he was scared to speak as if that would be what chased off the undertaker.

“Quit mournin’ me when I'm still right in front of you.”

The blonde would have likely balked in shock if he wasn't held captive, practically cradled now between a hand and still raised legs against Wolfwood’s abdomen. He looked gutted, to be blunt, like something had just taken everything out of him all at once. He floundered a bit, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to come up with anything he could say in face of the other’s words. Before he could land on anything however, Wolfwood pressed on.

“People like us aren't built to last out here like this, y'know. Whether it be some stupid draw of the cards or our choices throwing us right into a hole in the ground the result is the same.” He paused, lightly pressing his knuckles a bit more firmly against the other’s face, both asking for attention and to cement the place of contact. “But just because I won’t be here tomorrow doesn’t mean I’m not here now.”

He grabbed the hand gripping his clothes and he guided it up to press against his sternum, his hand overtop to hold it in place in case Vash tried to pull away.

“You feel that? Can you feel that I'm alive right now? I can feel the warmth of your skin and feel your breaths against me, I can feel that you’re alive right now too…Can you acknowledge that I lived? That we lived?”

Vash bit his lip to try to keep it from quivering, his legs to the side tightening up to pull in further in the already curled position in the small space. Wolfwood waited, his dark eyes refusing to break contact until he got what he was looking for. Vash remained wordless, his eyes quickly glazing over with tears and he inhaled sharp, a sniffle following as he tried to choke down the sound bubbling in his throat. Wolfwood kept waiting, pressing the other further by now firmly holding his cheek, rough fingers cupping the edge of his jaw. That was enough to break the last of his resolve it seemed as Vash let a soft sob burst past his lip and he almost scrambled to lurch upwards into an unsteady sit. The undertaker let a lazy smile reach his lips and he leaned forward just to pull the blonde down into his chest atop him, his face pushed maybe a bit too roughly into him but the blonde didn't complain. Instead it seemed he tried to push himself even further against the warm tanned skin in front of him.

“Please….Don't die….”

“I don’t plan on it, blondie. Not anytime soon anyways, I have things I need to finish before I can do that. ‘Sides, who else can keep your skinny ass alive even when you throw yourself into open fire, ah?”

He was answered with a wordless mewl, an aborted attempt at a response he guessed and he felt Vash shake against him. He loosely draped a hand against his back, fingers idley sliding up and down against the notches of his spine through his coat as he could find them through the thick fabric.

“Say it, would’ja?”

“Wolfwood…”

“I want to hear you say it. I don’t care if you don't believe it, I want you to say it. Then you have to try, you wouldn’t let me down would ya needle-noggin?”

Vash hummed weakly, shaking his head no a few times but Wolfwood once more just sat and waited, his touch never wavering.

“I….I am alive, I have lived. I’m still.. I'm still here..,” He paused to sniffle wetly and ended up rubbing what was most definitely snot against Wolfwood's shirt. “You…you’re alive…You’re….you’re right-”

“Right here, spikey. And at least until JuLai, I'm not going anywhere you aren't coming with me either.”

Vash nodded once, more a jerk of the head really, and he let himself fall the bit of distance left between them as he now laid against Wolfwood rather than sat being pressed into him. Wolfwood chuckled softly, pulling the edge of the other’s red jacket out to at least cover his chest and stomach as well. If he was a mattress then the other could be a blanket. It wasn't the most comfortable he had ever been on really any level, but…it certainly wasn't the worst.

[mercyprevaild]

∗ o5﹕ sender  comforts  receiver  in  the  aftermath  of  a  nightmare . (from Carol and Daryl) - @wexarethewalkingxdead

For a long time Rick was able to keep so much to himself. Someone might catch on every now and then when he isn't eating, or isn't sleeping, or more antsy than usual but that's all they saw. The aftermath. Nothing more.

He knew the day would come when the two of them would see it first hand. Things were good for a while. Call it a false sense of security when the three of them finally fell into each other, but it was only a matter of time before his doubts and all his paranoia returned to challenge just how safe he actually felt.

Nothing could have prepared him or them, it's not as if he went to sleep that night knowing that just a couple hours later, he'd be waking in a frenzy. It's not the kind of nightmare where he cries out helplessly, or is trapped silently within it. No, this nightmare has him fighting for his life and his physical self jumps into action as if the monsters in his dream are real.

Arms swinging, vicious snarling, tears of anguish and rage blotting his cheeks. That is what the other two awake to in the dead of the night and if either of them ended up hurt, Rick doesn't know it. All he knows is that he is abruptly woken up by Daryl's voice calling his name until his bloodshot eyes snap open, searching for the threat even now. He struggles beneath the weight of the other man, but is too exhausted to free himself.

"Ge'off me," he growls, panicked and threatened. His heart beats wildly, thundering in his ears, "Ge'the hell off me!"

"It's me, Rick." He blinks once, harshly, then again until Daryl's face comes into focus. Brow furrowing, Rick breathes in again, releasing it in a shudder as he turns his head and finds Carol off to his side. It was nothing more than a dream, he realizes, and instantly feels shame. "Rick. You're alright, man. You with us, now?"

He drags his gaze back to Daryl, panting heavily as their eyes meet for only a moment before he looks elsewhere in the dark room and slowly nods his head. Pursing his lips, he can feel the heat of his shame in his face, burning the tips of his ears. He tries to free himself again, this time without force but mumbling incoherently to be released. As always, looking to isolate himself when he's not in control. Daryl objects and pushes him gently right back against pillows.

"Hey.." A smaller hand touches his face and he flinches, eyes shut but it doesn't disappear. Carol's voice is so soft, as comforting as the gentle touch of her fingers, "You're okay, sweetheart."

"Yeah. We got you, Rick."

Rick feels the sting of tears behind his lids and his face twists like he's in pain. He shakes his head, opens his mouth to speak but nothing but a soft groan, born of embarrassment, escapes him. So softly and tenderly, he is hushed with lips pressed to his temple and then there's a body on either side of him. His two lovers surround him, lay over him like a blanket that helps shield him from the enomority of his own self loathing and the fear he can't seem to escape.

They nestle him between them, shower him with such love and comfort, both physically and verbally. Rick feels fragile, thinks he doesn't deserve any of this. Their outpouring of care is so much that he thinks it might break him, but that's not the case at all. It holds him together, fills in the cracks and broken pieces of himself. As he curls up in Daryl's arms and buried his face in Carol's neck, his tears fall not out of anguish but of relief; the kind he never allows himself to have.

[wheaning]

i reached out to you finally. you said that you hope that i am dying slowly and painfully. that my family would take me off of life support as soon as they were given the chance. that you’re talking to someone from your past again. that your hatred for me allowed you to turn back on your word, your twisted principle of “when i leave, i don’t come back”

the world doesn’t quite work like that, does it?

i’m sure my past makes me deserve it. everything i have wanted to say to you but held back for this past year has seeped out of my eyes for the past 24 hours. i don’t know what kind of response i was even expecting, but i still wasn’t prepared for that. you just haven’t changed at all. i don’t think you ever will. all of your old friends hate you. your new friends will probably end up hating you. for some reason, i got caught up in your web of lies like a docile fly. i can confidently say that i’ve never met anybody else even remotely close to you. you’re the pinnacle of evil in this universe. but somehow i still see beauty. a small boy hurting. aching. growing up and devouring. it makes my chest feel tight. my heart skip. thinking about you makes my brain feel warm and angry. those are the effects of ptsd, i guess. crying in my bed watching the text go by in my head over and over and over again makes my entire body feel like it’s weak but made of hot steel. my body feels like a weapon because of you. if you hate me so much, and if you talk to your ex the same way you spoke about her to me, why didn’t you just shoot me while we were up in the fog on that mountain? i already could barely breathe. you knew you would hate me someday. and that’s why you’ll never escape your emotions until you allow your real ones to surface and rip you open. only somebody fueled by emotion can hate like you do. do you hit her? or was that just for me? do you rape her? or was that just for me? do you scream at her? or was that just for me? do you stalk her? or was that just for me? do you twist the lungs right out of her breast, and inflate them until the veins resemble the ones you saw lacing my back while you were forcing yourself inside of me? when she asks you to choke her, does it remind you of when you’d grab me by throat and press your thumb down on my trachea, and look down at me like sex was your paradise of exploitation, torment, full domination and pain, while it was my worst nightmare? while i laid there and knew this was the worst thing the person you love could do to you. i would argue that you killing me would be worse, but you were killing me. i had disease in my body and you were mangling me up. your hands were so big and there was nothing i could do with any of my power to get them off of me. you liked that. you liked that a lot and i saw it in your eyes. you made me disgusting and you fucking loved that, it moved you, it changed your life. you devoured me whole and as much as you want to deny it, you were never able to spit me back up.

terms too big for your stomach. pain too visceral for your understanding. that is the life that i live. if you were able to get your hands on oxycodone, you’d never want to smoke weed again. you’d like knowing i did drugs. you’ll never even get remotely close to fentanyl. what it’s like to wake up in blood. arms and legs numb, your own neck unable to support the weight of your head, your eyes darting back and forth beneath their lids. wires. wires and wires and wires. machines breathing for you. waking up thinking of the person who put you there in the first place.

i guess that’s why i shouldn’t have reached out to the person who the hospital bed’s smell made me think of.

[abdanisnotonfire]

CHAPTER FIVE

When Brook woke up, it took her a minute to remember where she was. A slight panic set in, and was quickly overcome with serenity upon realizing where she was. A small sigh left the girls mouth as she ran her fingers through her knotted hair, detangling it to look somewhat presentable. She hopped out of the guest bed to feel the cool wooden floor beneath her feet. Brooklyn pulled the duvet from the guest bed around her shoulders as a shiver ran down her spine. Before opening the door, the pale girl stopped in front of a mirror; calculating her flaws for the day and readjusting the duvet. Opening the door, Brook could smell coffee. She didn't usually drink coffee, and the smell caused her to cringe.

Down the hall, she could hear one of the men speaking. She couldn't make out who it was, or what he was saying-- but took the closed door as a sign to not interrupt.

There was always this discomfort whenever Brook was in someone else home.

She felt like she was out of place, like she lied to get to where she is. Her grip on the duvet tightened as she felt the guilt in her stomach; walking down the stairs. Or maybe those were just the bruises on her ribs healing, she thought.

When she reached the kitchen, she saw Phil sitting there drinking out of a mug.

"Good morning!" he spoke, setting the cup down and reaching into a drawer.

"..Good morning.." She replied. The man seemed joyful, and quickly handed her a small white box covered in gift wrap with a red bow pasted onto the top.

"What is this?"

"Go ahead and open it!" Phil spoke, a smile plastered onto his face. Brooklyn could hear what she now knew was Dan laughing upstairs, and she shifted her weight.

"Well, go on!"

Brooklyn carefully removed the tape as to not rip the paper she knew they took the time to wrap JUST for her. Underneath the paper was a small iPhone box. She shot the man a glance, before sliding the lid off of the box.

"It's got 128 gigabytes, and we got it all set up for you!" Phil spoke before eagerly taking a drink of his coffee and walking off.

Brooklyn looked at the phone, flipping it over to see the back, and set the box down.

She took a mental note on the phone case-- she hadn't been given a gift this expensive before, and couldn't help but look over the little details. Brook walked over to the living room, flopping herself in the corner of the couch. She quickly typed Amber's number into iMessage, sending a text-- letting her know who it was. Amber could light up any room she walked into with the way she would say your name. There was something so genuine about being friends with Amber.

Before you knew it, you would be infected with pure bliss.

Brooklyn shifted in the couch, frowning at the service bar in the top corner.

Standing up and leaving the warmth of her duvet, the girl made her way through the flat-- back upstairs.

She normally isn't one for eavesdropping, but she also didn't have the courage to interrupt her new guardians. Brooklyn really didn't want to do anything to risk getting sent back.

She could hear that they were filming, and the incessant chatter died down. Brook could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she heard footsteps coming towards the door, but was frozen in fear.

As the door swung open, she was greeted to Dan giving her a sad smile.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking at the visibly-shaken girl he was met with

"Y- ..Yeah! I just didn't know....where everyone..." She trailed off, looking down at the carpet

"It's alright, come in!" Phil replied from across the room. He was sat at the end of Dan's bed, two laptops set out, and a camera/tripod set up in the corner of the room.

Brook quietly ushered her way in, reserving herself to the corner of Dan's room. She watched as the two continued filming. Something she never realized was how often YouTubers were in front of cameras.

The thought of performing, live or not-- gave her anxiety. It wasn't something that she had ever CONSIDERED a possibility.

Her phone vibrated in her lap, notifications silenced. Amber had texted back, replying with a photo of Brooks empty room. Brook let out an audible giggle while replying, causing Dan and Phil to shoot her a glance, unbeknownst to her.

Dan and Phil had been dating for 3 years when they had decided they wanted kids. They wanted to better the lives of a child, knowing how difficult it is to just exist-- let alone exist without any guidance. They wanted to continue their legacy, and grow a family.

When Dan met Brooklyn, he knew she was the PERFECT fit. She reminded him so much of himself. Someone who's been reaching out for a hand for so long, and been bitten so many times, that they're scared to reach out again.

Phil knew it wasn't going to be easy in the least bit, but he knew him and Dan were committed. They had the time, the funds, and the resources to adopt.

Brooklyn held up her phone, taking a photo of the two. Dan did a peace sign, and Phil smiled. As the shutter clicked, the flash went off as well. "Oops.."

The two men laughed, leaving an awkward Brook quickly texting her friend the photo.

"Hey uh...Brook. Do you listen to MCR?"

The girls head bobbed up, curious. "Perchance...why?"

"Oh!" the man quickly replied, leaning over his bed to reach for his dresser. He tossed a couple of shirts towards Brooklyn, all merch that no longer fit Dan "The amount of times Phil has tried to throw those away because they 'trash'!"

"They were! ...at the time..." Phil quickly defended, a grin spreading across his face.

Brooklyn couldn't explain it, but she felt this feeling in the pit of her stomach. Was it joy? love? safety?

before she knew it, the two were finished filming their video and the day continued on. Phil had taken over editing for Dan, so that Dan could do YouNow streams on a routine schedule. They had wanted to give Brook her privacy for as long as she needed. 

[casspurrjoybell-25]

The Healer of Shakkara - Book One

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 8 - Shelter - Part 2

"They offered a reward for you, Gale," he whispered.

"To anyone who helps them find you. Two thousand silver crowns." Galen choked on his pasty and Behn patted him unhelpfully on the back.

When he could speak, he rasped...

"What the hell?"

"Yeah and I mean, I trust my dad but..." Behn shook his head.

Galen didn't blame him.

For two thousand silver crowns, he wouldn't blame Behn if he turned him in himself.

"So I had to wait 'til he went to bed," Behn continued.

"So he wouldn't suspect anything, you know? Then I gathered all this stuff. You might have to stay down here a while."

He bit his lip.

Galen shook his head, his mind racing.

How long would the strangers wait?

Would he still be in danger after they left or would things blow over?

Most importantly...

"Is Harrald alright?" he asked.

Behn nodded.

"Triss checked on him earlier. Rode by on her patrol and made it look like a routine stop. You know...'How goes it, Citizen?'"

He rolled his eyes.

"She said he seems fine."

Galen sagged with relief.

He hadn't realized how worried he'd been.

He eyed the rest of the things Behn had brought him.

"Doesn't your dad come down here every few days, to check the barrels?" Galen asked.

"And what's the pail for?"

Behn shrugged.

"I'm in charge of checking the barrels at this phase. He only comes down once a week or so. As for the pail..."

Galen saw his cheeks flush even in the dim light.

"Well... you know."

He glanced at the array of food and Galen caught his drift.

"I didn't think I'd be staying here that long," he said, feeling his face heat.

"Behn..."

"Don't worry about it," Behn said, brushing aside the momentary awkwardness.

"You're my best friend, Galen and you're worth a lot more than a few pounds of silver."

********

Three days later, Gale woke to the sensation of someone shaking him but when he opened his eyes, he saw he was alone.

The shaking, however, continued for several seconds more before subsiding.

In the stillness that followed, he heard distant shouts and screams.

Scrambling from beneath his blanket, he went to the wall with the grill and hoisted himself up to look out but all he could see from that vantage was the bottom of the shrubs and the side of the neighboring house, beyond.

He dropped back down and began to pace, waiting for Behn to bring him news.

It was another three hours, at least, before he did.

Behn looked harried, his round face pink and his straw-colored hair damp with sweat.

"What happened?" Galen asked.

"An other tremor," Behn said, flopping down to sit with his back against the wall.

Galen joined him, though mostly because his own chilled body craved the warmth emanating from Behn's.

"A bad one," Behn continued.

"Part of the temple caved in. People are saying it's..." he paused and Galen looked at him.

"What?"

Behn swallowed.

"People are saying it's the will of the Goddess. I don't know how the rumor got started but... people are saying it's 'cause someone's hiding you, Gale. They say you're a witch and Thrynis will shake Dern to ground unless you're discovered and..." he didn't need to say more.

Galen understood.

He shut his eyes and took a breath.

"I'll leave," he said.

"What?" Behn sat up, alarmed.

"Gale, you can't. You'll..."

Galen shook his head.

"I can't stay here, Behn. It's too much risk. If someone finds me, you and your father..."

"We'll be fine," Behn insisted, grabbing his arm.

"You won't be found and if you are, we could say we didn't even know you were here."

Galen's face twisted and he looked away.

Behn was kindhearted and generous and as such he imagined everyone else was, too.

Galen knew better.

"Can you bring me some more food?" he asked.

Behn brightened and smiled, thinking Galen meant he'd agreed to stay.

"Sure. And more blankets and a pillow, too. And a lid for the pail."

He wrinkled his nose.

He'd only been able to visit Galen once a day and that hadn't always aligned with the course of nature.

Galen returned his smile.

"Thanks, Behn. You're a good friend. You and Triss. Tell her I said so, okay?"

Behn nodded, patted his shoulder and pushed himself to his feet.

"I better get back upstairs," he said.

"Dad's at the temple, helping with repairs but he'll be back any minute. I'll bring you the food an' stuff tonight, okay?"

"Okay," Galen agreed, keeping his tone light and giving Behn what he hoped looked like a smile.

"See you then."

********

Behn was as good as his word and brought Galen enough food to last him a week, if he was careful, along with an extra blanket, a candle, matches, a book 'of brewers recipes but a book, nonetheless' and a rough lid for the pail.

Galen was grateful for it... grateful for his friend, most of all but the food was the only thing he'd wanted.

He'd spent the last six hours fashioning a rough pack from the burlap sacks and now he filled it with the lighter, less perishable foods... bread, fruit and a piece of hard cheese.

Then, he waited.

He figured the very early morning would be the best time to slip out of town.

He knew at least two places he could get over the wall without passing through a gate and then he'd head upriver to the ford.

He'd cross on foot, then cut across the plains to the woods.

And from there... Well, he hadn't thought that far.

He'd make it up as he went.

He waited, not daring to sleep and miss his chance, until the first cock crowed, a few hours after midnight.

Annoying birds.

Dawn was hours off and people would be burying their heads beneath their pillows, trying to ignore the screeching sound.

And meanwhile, Dern would be as quiet as if ever got.

He rose, hoisted his makeshift pack and rolled an empty barrel beneath the grill.

Climbing atop it, he shoved at the rectangle of iron lattice and after a few attempts, managed to knock it free.

He shoved the pack out, then pulled himself up after it and wriggled through.

In the open, he blinked against the brilliance of stars and breathed deep lungfuls of the crisp, clean night air.

Three days in a cellar had been quite enough.

He missed his bedroom and he missed Harrald but these thoughts brought a new pain to his heart.

If the strangers wanted him so badly, surely they'd be watching his father's house.

He could not return, even to say goodbye.

Instead, he turned his steps towards the downhill slope and set off for the wall.

He hadn't gotten far, though, when a low rumble reached his ears.

Confused, he paused and glanced up.

The sky was clear... not a thundercloud in sight.

Then he felt the first tremor roll beneath his feet... then a second and third, each greater than the last.

And then everything around him began to shake and chaos was visited on Dern.

[anakinskywalkerog]

My Very Soul (Chapter 9)

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Link to Chapter 8

Warnings: angst. sry bout this, I'm just feeling a lil bit sad and I wanted to give their reunion more umph lol

Summary: short and sweet; like ships passing in the night; sad bebs

Word Count: 3.3k (lol me: wow this is so short, also me: unable to write short)

Anakin paced the ship's hull, back and forth, feeling the need to get this energy out of him, unable to sit still. The ship whined beneath his feet, and he mentally urged it to go faster, to move through hyperspace more quickly. He didn't care that he was eager. He didn't care about anything, other than getting back to Coruscant.

       It had been a brutal eight months in the Outer Rim territories, a period in which he and Obi-Wan had gotten themselves into and out of many scrapes. They were keeping the peace, he thought dryly, and collecting intel for the Republic—worthy causes, of course, but he had been away from Coruscant for his longest period yet, and he was anxious to get back to the Temple.

       "Anakin, you're giving me a migraine," Obi-Wan said casually, sitting in the main hull and reading his holopad. Anakin continued his pacing.

       "Are we close?" Anakin asked, looking out the viewport at the blue of hyperspace, as if he would be able to tell by some landmark where they were in the universe.

       "Patience, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, not looking up from his reading. Anakin ignored him, continuing to walk back and forth. He didn't try to hide his anxiety from Obi-Wan. The last time Anakin had seen you, you'd been half-beaten, with dark circles under your eyes and stitches in the back of your head. Still, you'd looked perfect, sitting there in that medical bay, on a ship very similar to this one, looking at him through those very perfect eyes, lidded by perfect lashes, your perfect Force presence emanating around you. Anakin swallowed. Why hadn't he just come out and said it, then? He had been so close to telling you, so close to revealing his heart. Why had he stopped himself?

       Anakin could never have known that he would be gone this long, of course, but there had not been one evening in the last eight months where he hadn't thought of you. Every time he thought he would get to return, to see you again, he and Obi-Wan were sent to a different star system. Anakin saw your face every time he closed his eyes, remembered the feeling of your hand in his, the feeling of you watching him, your eyes glazing over, as if his presence calmed you. He thought of you every morning when he ate. Every type of cloud on every new planet seemed to remind him of you. He yearned to be back in your presence, just for a moment, just to get to see your face. Anakin had been so used to being assigned to missions with you and Master Yuma, he thought it might always be the four of you, working together. Why had he and Obi-Wan been away for so long? It didn't seem fair.

       They had had no news of you or Master Yuma from the council, no news of anyone, really, just updates that pertained to the general status of Republic affairs. And this was protocol, of course—Jedi were not meant to form attachments, and so asking the council for news of you, a Padawan who held very little importance to them, would have been completely inappropriate. Still, Anakin had asked Obi-Wan, again and again, after every transmission, after every briefing, if there had been any word, any news, any mention of where you might be, of what you might be doing. Obi-Wan was tiring of Anakin's persistence, but he had reminded his Padawan that no news was likely good news. If a Jedi had been killed, they certainly would have heard of it. Anakin knew this was true, and he was certain that you were absolutely fine—more than fine. You were flawless. You were likely healed of all of your wounds, of course, likely growing stronger in the Force, practicing your sparring, working toward your Knighthood. This knowledge did nothing to assuage Anakin's anxiety now, as his ship zoomed closer to you.

       What had you thought about everything that had happened on Hoth? Anakin had never gotten to ask you, had never even gotten to watch you heal from your injuries. What had it meant to you, that Anakin had held your hand the way he did? Had it meant anything at all?

       "Anakin, you're sweating. Relax," Obi-Wan said, finally putting his holopad down and looking at his Padawan with concern.

       "What am I going to say to her?" Anakin asked, his hands shaking, his eyes wide with longing.

       "I'd start with hello," Obi-Wan said, an amused expression crossing his face. Anakin felt his features fall into a pout. He resumed his pacing. They were almost there.

You breathed in, trying to expel any thought from your body, working to let the Force move through you.

       The meditation room was quiet; your limbs were folded perfectly, your back straight; the meditation ottoman was soft and comfortable; the blinds were drawn. The conditions were perfect. There was no reason for you to be distracted. Still, you somehow felt restless. Your body seemed to have a twitch, today, seemed to feel the need to move, to shake out these nervous feelings. You couldn't trace their origin, but for whatever reason, you could not get rid of your thoughts.

       Your mind moved, as it often did, to Anakin, and you scrunched your face in concentration. When meditating, you were taught to let thoughts come and go, as if a thought were a bird that flew through your mind, stopping in only for a moment before it again took flight. The Anakin bird, however, seemed to have made its home in your mind. Every time this particular thought returned, it brought more supplies, making its nest larger and larger, and now it seemed to own the place. You sighed.

       If you could not expel the thought, you had decided, and if it would not simply pass out of your brain, you could redirect it. You missed Anakin—that much was clear. He popped into your head so often, now, that you had worked hard to change this particular thought, to use it to your advantage, to make sure that it was aligned with your true and higher purpose.

       You wanted, more than anything, to become a Jedi. And not just any Jedi—you wanted to hone your talents. You wanted to be the best warrior, the most skilled swordswoman, completely one with the Force, like Master Yoda, like your own Master. Good Jedi did not form attachments, you reminded yourself, and so any thoughts that might lead you down a road you did not want to follow must be banished from your mind. You steeled yourself, keeping still in your meditation posture. You would not allow yourself to be taken off the path that was meant for you. You would not allow Anakin to distract you from your goal.

       You felt her presence before she entered, as you so often did. It was difficult to surprise you, especially now that you had grown in your power, motivated, as you were, by the dark forces you had encountered on Hoth. You kept your eyes closed, but acknowledged this presence, greeting your Master through the Force.

"You seem troubled," Master Yuma said, coming to sit on the meditation ottoman next to the one on which you perched.

       "No, not troubled, exactly," you told her honestly, breathing deeply.

       "Conflicted, then," she corrected, her gaze searching you, looking you over, feeling your presence intimately in the way that only she could.

       "No," you answered, opening your eyes. You looked at Master Yuma, watching each other. Communicating with your Master was very different from communicating with other people, especially now that your power had grown to such a degree. When you communicated with others, you had more of an advantage—you could read more in them than they could in you. With your Master, though, you both read through each other's thoughts, your Master's emotional impressions coloring your mind, and your own emotions likely coloring hers. Oftentimes, the two of you didn't need words to converse.

"I don't think it's that simple," Master Yuma said thoughtfully, responding to something she had felt in your presence. You frowned.

"It has to be. Attachment is against the rules, and at some point, a choice has to be made," you said calmly, looking your Master in the eye. "I've made mine."

       "A good Jedi must keep her mind open," Master Yuma told you, meeting the intensity of your gaze with just as much strength, "to possibilities. Other options, paths that exist but are not visible in the current moment." Master Yuma sighed, looking at your set jaw, your lowered eyebrows, feeling how much effort you were making to hold to this conviction, through the Force. "It is impossible, now, to see what the future may bring. I ask you only to let your mind open, to let the thoughts, feelings, and other temporary matter flow through it. Remember, my child," Master Yuma said affectionately, "that you are but the river bank. Let the water roll over you. Don't try to change its direction, or fight its current. Let it flow."

       Your eyes filled with tears. Master Yuma had not called you my child in quite some time. This affection disarmed you, melted your resolve, got in the way of your desire to hold certain feelings of yours at bay. You broke your pose, climbed off of the meditation ottoman, and sank yourself down next to your Master, laying your head on her shoulder.

       "We have another assignment," Master Yuma said, using her fingers to run through your hair, pulling it away from your face gently. "I came in here to retrieve you. We're leaving." Master Yuma brushed the tears from your cheeks.

       "Yes, Master," you said, letting yourself melt into her, letting your pretense, your ego fall away.

       "All will reveal itself in time," Master Yuma told you, kissing your head. "Don't fret."

You sat the cockpit of the ship, next to your Master, ready to assume the position of co-pilot. You watched Coruscant beneath you as you adjusted the necessary controls, causing the ship to take off into the sky. You felt the ship moving through the air, and you sighed, letting go of a part of yourself, leaving it behind on Coruscant. To do your duty, you must let go of your own desire, learn to be selfless, one with the light side of the Force. You felt a current in the air, and looked over to Master Yuma, confused. She looked back at you, assuming an innocent expression. Could she not feel it? The current grew stronger as the ship took off. You looked out the viewport, out at the city planet, and you saw nothing but ships passing by, headed back toward the city you were leaving. You felt the current grow stronger. You looked out, breathing deeply. The current in the Force grew in its intensity, and as you watched another large ship pass you by, you felt the current snap, like a rubber band when pulled back. The feeling you felt as this current moved out of you was both good and bad, both pleasant and painful. It was a full feeling, a glass overflowing. It felt like longing. It felt familiar.

Anakin stood in his room, looking the place over, his emotions in turmoil. Though he had not been back to this place in eight months, he felt no joy in being here now, looking at the sparse Padawan bed, the small room in the large dormitory that did not, for the time being, contain the one reason he'd wanted to return to Coruscant in the first place.

       It had become clear immediately upon their arrival that you and Master Yuma had been sent off on a mission earlier the very same day. If only the ship had arrived just a moment sooner, Anakin thought, torturing himself. If only time had passed a little slower this morning, Anakin could have accompanied you on your assignment.

       It would be fine, he reasoned with himself, standing at his desk, looking out his very small window. You and Master Yuma would surely be back very soon, maybe even tomorrow. Most assignments did not last months at a time. He could wait just a bit longer.

       The pain of it was tearing at his insides, his frustration threatening to pull apart his seams, but he held himself together. It was only an extra few days. It was fine. When you returned, he would be here, waiting to hear how your mission had gone, waiting to see what you might have to say to him, after all these months.

       His frustration with the Jedi Order was growing—the council's demands, the way they held such little regard for everything he had done for them, the way he and his Master were never granted a choice over where and how they spent their time, who they spent time with—the weight of his anger over the injustice of it all hovered over his head, and he worked to hold back his feelings. He wanted to be a Jedi more than he wanted anything, but he wanted to do it on his terms, in his own way. If he were on the council, if he were a Master, he would choose to do things differently. And they'd have to be okay with it—they needed him.

       Anakin heard a knock coming from the other side of the door to his room, and his heart sank in fear. The only time anyone ever came to his own personal quarters, it was—

       "May I come in?" Obi-Wan asked from the other side of the door. The fear that had entered Anakin's heart was turning quickly to fury. Anakin barely felt able to open his mouth, to form the words.

       "Yes," he sputtered, watching as his Master entered his room, facing him. Anakin was already shaking his head. "No," he whined to Obi-Wan, looking at his Master's sympathetic face, and hating every part of it, the pitying eyes, the mouth downturned in a compassionate frown, the peaceful presence emanating from his Master's being. "No, we can't go now, we can't leave again—"

       "I'm sorry, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, striding into the room and placing a gentle hand on his Padawan's shoulder. "The council has another assignment for us. The Chancellor himself requested that we go immediately. We leave in the morning."

       "No," Anakin repeated, his anger moving through him like a storm, his voice coming out as a pathetic pleading sound. He shoved Obi-Wan's hand off his shoulder. "Not now, there must be someone else they can send."

       "Jedi do not choose where they are needed most," Obi-Wan said kindly, tilting his head downward and looking up at Anakin's face, taking a submissive stance. "We must let go of our pride, and do what is requested of us."

       "No—I won't...I won't go," Anakin said, raising his voice, beginning to shake his hands, as if he were looking for something to throw, something to hit.

       "It is high time you attend to these feelings of yours, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, still keeping his eyes on his Padawan, his tone cautious. "You won't always be as young as you are now. Attachment of this kind is what prevents a Jedi from seeing clearly. You must put aside your own feelings, Anakin, in order to do your duty."

       "And for what?" Anakin scoffed, throwing his hands in the air, giving Obi-Wan a menacing smile. "So that the Senate can continue sitting around, squabbling over minor issues, doing nothing of substance? For the sake of a Republic, of a Jedi Order that no longer serves the needs of its constituents?"

       "You are speaking from the place where your anger is in control," Obi-Wan said quietly, looking Anakin over.

       "I can't help but be angry!" Anakin yelled, letting down his guard, feeling tears come into his eyes. "It's been eight months, Obi-Wan! Eight months, and she's not even here. And now we're leaving again, and we have no idea when we will return—" Anakin's voice broke, and his tears spilled, falling hot over his cheeks, his face screwed up in his resentment.

       "I sense that this show of anger is an attempt to hide what truly plagues you," Obi-Wan responded, his voice low, his tone peaceful, compassionate. Anakin wiped his tears with his sleeve, his brow furrowed, his mouth clenched in a grimace.

       "I can't...I can't live on, this way, without her presence...without her near me..." Anakin said, his voice lowering, his anger still palpable in his speech.  

       "You must not ever let your love turn into possession, Anakin," Obi-Wan said forcefully. "You must learn to place your ideals above your feelings." Anakin's face crumpled.     

       "What would you know of love?" Anakin asked, his bitterness ringing throughout the room.

       "I know enough," Obi-Wan responded softly. Anakin shook his head again. It was impossible for Obi-Wan to understand, he thought—no one had ever felt about anyone the way Anakin felt about you.

       "It's like...like I can't breathe without her. Like there's this string, reaching out into the universe, tethered to her presence, and every day I spend without her, the string tugs on my heart, squeezing tighter, causing me more pain. It's like...like trying to exist without water, or food, but those don't even begin to explain it, because what is hunger, what is thirst, compared to this feeling?! The whole of the universe is screaming her name, and I can't...I can't hear anything else, not while she and I are apart." Anakin sniffed, feeling vulnerable, feeling his anger turn to a deep sadness inside of him, a sadness he associated with home, with his mother. Obi-Wan sighed, walking over to sit on the edge of Anakin's bed.

       "This is dangerous speech, Anakin," Obi-Wan told him, looking at him with soft eyes. "The moment you let your love cloud over your selfhood, your life, your calling...is the moment you become vulnerable to the dark side of the Force."

       "I don't want a life," Anakin said wretchedly, "if she's not in it." Anakin sat down next to his Master, and he felt his Master return a grip to his shoulder, a bracing and comforting gesture.

       "You have much to learn, young padawan." Obi-Wan's tone was not critical, but Anakin heard in his words a sense of fear—fear of failure, or, perhaps, fear of Anakin's failure. "You've made a commitment to the Jedi Order, a commitment not easily broken. Eventually, you are going to have to make a choice."

       Anakin turned to look his Master in the eye. He never wanted to fail Obi-Wan, or his teachings. The truth of the matter was that Anakin had made his choice, long ago. It was as if the choice had been made for him, as if he hadn't a hand in it at all. He wanted both: both you and the Jedi Order. He would have both. He couldn't let go of you—that much was certain. But he refused to let go of his ambitions. He knew his power far outstripped that of the other Jedi. He would become a Jedi Master. He could remake the Order, someday, make things how they should be, with you by his side.

       "Yes Master," Anakin replied. The pain of leaving this place again paled in comparison to the feeling of knowing you were out there, somewhere, perhaps strategizing, perhaps fighting, perhaps sleeping—the pain of not knowing where you were, and what you were doing, was incapacitating. Anakin swallowed it, felt it drop into his body, lodge itself there. It would not free Anakin from its grasp, he knew, until he saw you again. And he would see you again, soon. He would make sure of it.

************************************************************************

oof. my apologies, y'all. hope the angsty ani bbs loved this one. Chapter 10, the reunion, is out now!!!

mullet Obi for comfort:

divider credit to @racingairplanes

taglist: @iyoogi @cluelessgurl @layazul @annadastra @graciexmarvel @galaxiasy @organasith @indigoblues1207 @outoftheregular @katsukiswrld @prettyboyrryy @jellydodger @wildflower57 @lydiamartinslover @em-asian @heavenseraph @iloveinej @leapofblank @sahverah @elsyyie @usuallyunlikelyfox @jadeonce @papadragun @dopejellyfishfury @stxrrielle @lilianashomaresparza

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Savor

Summary: Arthur's first time with you also produces on some self-reflection.

Warnings: Tender smut! And Arthur thinking bad about himself

Word Count: 1,428

Author's Note: This exists for purely nothing other than I wanted Arthur's angst to be cured by some sexy softness :')

“Arthur?”

Your voice drew the outlaw back into the moment, the reality of what presented in front of him, beneath him. You were caged between his arms, completely unclothed and waiting, your eyes staring up at him expectantly.

“Arthur,” you say again, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “If you’re not ready, we can stop for tonight.”

Your touch was electrifying. “That ain’t necessary,” he answered.

He rested between your open legs, primal instinct aching to bury himself within you, yet the hesitation, the doubt, held him in stasis. Combative thoughts raged through his head, finally quelled just enough. He took a deep breath and rocked his hips forward, coating himself within your wetness like dewy flower petals.

Finally, he took the plunge.

Inch by inch he parted you until completely hilted. A familiar sensation both new and old, starved of for so long –the warmth, the softness, the closeness. Surely he had to be lost in a dream to be privileged enough for this again. A vivid, spectacularly marvelous dream.

Primal thoughts urged him to continue, to enjoy these moments as he once did in his younger years, without second thought or consequence. A blazing fire extinguished by ages of pain. Denial and self-hatred held strong.

But you lay there, smiling up at him with assurance. A drop of heavenly purity to negate the black turmoil always raging within him. The self-punishment coming to a screeching halt every time you spoke to him, touched him, kissed him. You saw him in a different light.

How was he so lucky to have you?

You broke down his walls and allowed him to feel, to love. To settle him in such a state of vulnerability. Every fleeting moment from the day he met you to this night in the luxurious hotel of Saint Denis. The flame he thought long gone re-ignited and kindling once again.

Your legs rose up, hooking around his waist. The slight friction provided nearly sent him spiraling. He moaned softly, rolling his hips with experimental caution.

Your breath hitched. His eyes immediately snapped to your face, half-expecting discomfort. Instead, the lust written across your face told differently. Your lips parted, your half-lidded expression honed to him –and him completely.

His heart fluttered with happiness.

Delicate fingers carded through his hair. You spoke to him in a hushed voice, “Keep going.”

That small nudge of encouragement was all he needed.

Arthur soon picked up a rhythm. Slow, undulating, dragging every surface of himself along your core. He savored your sweet moans, the way his name danced from your lips. This sweet song he could listen to that all day.

Nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders. He sucked air through his teeth, the sweet pain-pleasure rippling through his body. He uttered a soft swear, ignoring the call to drive himself even deeper. He wanted to be careful, lest he caused you any sort of harm.

To him, you were silk and feathers, too delicate for this roughened life. You however proved yourself much stronger than you seemed, time and time again. He knew, and always wanted to shield you from the horrors regardless. He would keep you in his arms forever if he could, even if it meant shielding you from himself.

“More,”

He stared into your eyes, uncertainty welling in his stomach.

You smiled again, delicately trapping his face between your hands. “I can handle it, I promise.”

“You sure?”

You breathed, “Of course,” your legs tightening to roll your hips into his, pulling him even deeper.

“Christ –”

The pleasure was almost dizzying. He groaned much louder than intended, nearly feeling ashamed of himself. You however repeated the motion, ripping all afterthought and bringing forth a guttural moan. All the while, you gave him a look of a silent plea. Would it be a plea? Hell, you practically had him at his knees.

And he met your demand willingly. Carnal desire slowly overtaking his rational thought, he pushed himself further, faster, allowing it more control with each passing second. He stared into your gaze, watchful for any signs of pain. Yet there were none. Mouth opened in gasps of ecstasy, face pink in the beginnings of a flush. Your honeyed voice called his name again. A sight that he almost felt too underprivileged to even view.

He memorized every inch of your face, yet it still amazed him how gorgeous you were. Even when you were half asleep with a crackled greeting in the early morning, even when bright-eyed and flustered moments after a gun fight. Even with beads of sweat and strands of hair pooling around your forehead, pinned underneath him.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he sighed, realizing a second late that he’d spoken it out loud.

You’d focused on him, a bashful smile crossing your lips. Rather than responding you pulled him into a sweet kiss. He reciprocated with a lazy movement of his own lips, parting yours to explore the rest of your mouth. Your taste, your smell. He could detect the blueberries you’d eaten earlier, lingering on your tongue. The fresh cleanliness from the bath he paid for filled his nostrils.

Everything about you was damn near intoxicating.

You seemed to have an affinity for matching his thrusts. Spurred by the kiss your hips fell in sync with him, forcing him to fill you completely. His right hand managed to snake around your back as it arched into his torso, pulling you flush with his broad chest. Your skin was soft, warm, so nice and perfect unlike the scars and callouses he gained over time.

He could hold you like this forever.

He wanted more. Pressing you even tighter, he ripped his lips free, instead rehoming them into the junction of your neck. His touch became more erratic, his thrusts gaining speed. Your voice laced his ears like a scarf, he selfishly drew more and more from your writhing figure.

You sang out your pleasure, signaling the onset of your climax. Hurriedly, his gaze magnetized to your face once again. Eyes like starbursts erupting, your entire body tensing and trembling against him. Fingers etched into the flesh of his shoulders. Your inner walls squeezed and fluttered around him –wow –

His own was soon on the horizon, peeking over like the first rays of the morning sunrise. Watching you come undone beneath him just about did him in. He chased that high, scrambling and climbing for it as yours began to fade, your moans and sighs resigned to breathless squeaks. Every thrust felt even better than the last, drunk from the pure erotica –from you –only to claw for even more.

He muttered out his closeness. In that haze your warm, soft hands cupped his cheeks, grabbing for his attention. Just your eyes alone egged him on, pushing him further and further to his limit.

It rapidly increased tenfold.

He pulled out abruptly just then with a hurried gasp, waves of his pleasure coming to a head. He spilled out across your stomach, uttering a guttural moan.

As the last of his orgasm faded, his chest heaved, his arms shook. His eyes swept across your body slowly, your skin dewy and rosy with sweat. His seed painted across your stomach, almost reaching your chest.

Stunning.

His head suddenly dropped, resting on your shoulder from the immediate onset of fatigue. Your scent shrouded him, gulping it like much-needed oxygen. Your fingers carded through his hair, neither of you having the energy to speak.

Until he heard you whisper his name.

He pulled himself back up, staring down at you. Adoration melded with disbelief –had that really happened?

You were smiling once again. A sweet, loving smile.

Arthur’s smile matched yours, yet a different thought lingered. “Did…did I do right by ya, sweetheart?” he asked quietly, inwardly cursing himself for his lack of confidence.

Your hands moved, warm palms resting on either side of his face once again. He half expected a head shake, a frown, or just a simple ‘no’. And yet…your face remained unchanged. “You did just fine,” you assured him. “I promise.”

You were never once dishonest with him. Part of him was sure you’d just said that to ease his worry, but your face, your eyes…nothing but genuine.

The remaining tension finally dissipated from his body. He silently sighed out his relief, calming the last dregs of the storm of self-doubt roiling in his mind since even stepping foot in this room. He rested his forehead against yours, his smile only growing wider.

“I love you.”

[sergeantxrogers]

| sanctified |

Summary: Bucky Barnes’ holy grail and safe haven are your body and soul, and after getting a taste of them, he finally knows what it means to be a sinner. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Smut!! (switch!Bucky, choking, light spanking, orgasm control, slight exhibitionism), some crying, confessions of love baby

____________________

Bucky Barnes never had a serious girlfriend. Sure, there were girls he’d go out with, press a little smooch to their lips just out of principle, girls he’d walk home after a trip to the fair, girls that would follow him around Brooklyn watching his every move in the hopes that they would catch his eye and that he would give them more than just a polite smile. 

Bucky Barnes used to be a ladies’ man, girls batting their lashes at him when he and Steve passed by on their way to Bucky’s place for dinner, throwing themselves at his feet any chance they’d get because they wanted to be something special to him, they wanted to mean something to him, and Bucky always rejected anything serious with grace. 

And then he fell from the train. And he hadn’t seen a girl his age for almost 50 years after that. He had forgotten what it was like to be smiled at, to be searched for in a crowd, for someone to call out his name - his real name, not Soldat. 

He had gotten used to the harsh orders and cruel insults, the flirty, boyish Bucky that winked at the ladies and guided them during dances hidden and stashed away somewhere deep inside him, dormant and asleep. He was fine with being ignored after everything that happened with Steve, and the fall of HYDRA, and Shuri “fixing” his brain. Fine with staying in the shadows when he didn’t need to be out of them, fine with avoiding people and missing their eye, slipping through the streets of New York like a cat, his only goal to get from point A to point B.

Until he met you. 

You, the part-time waitress that worked at the restaurant he frequented with Mr. Nakajima. Bucky took a liking to you the second he saw you. The do no harm, take no shit attitude that every fiber of your being seemed to be dipped in intrigued him. He liked watching you work, multitasking between orders and receipts and drinks and money and all things in between. It was fascinating to him, especially the side-eyed glances you’d give him with an accompanying little smirk whenever he sat down at the counter with his older friend. Intriguing you were, so much so that he quickly learned what days you came in, and what days you didn’t: Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 

Yori kept pushing him to ask out the “pretty waitress” at the restaurant, and though she was pretty, she wasn’t the one he had his eye on. 

“You should go out with her, she’s a nice girl,” Yori’s soft voice would mutter into his ear, and Bucky would give him a smile and a shake of his head.

If only you knew, Yori. If only you knew, he thought. 

The flirting started simple enough: a sly smile as you greeted him when he walked in. An “accidental” brush of the hand when you’d hand him his third beer. Biting your lip whenever he called your name out to pay. It was simple enough that Bucky’s elderly friend stayed oblivious on the Wednesdays they’d go out for lunch together. 

And truly, Bucky had no reason to come to the restaurant three times a week, twice without the company of Mr. Nakajima. No reason but the sight of you, and it was enough to keep him drawn in, keep him coming and throwing his money on food he never ate and beers he downed without a second thought because he was so enamored by the way your eyes glimmered whenever you gave him a smile. 

Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays went by and by until he started dropping his gaze below your neck, pants growing uncomfortably tight at the way you’d bend over to get a new roll of receipts under the counter, or the small sliver of stomach he would notice beneath your shirt whenever you’d reach up for a glass. 

And it wasn’t like you were oblivious either; on the contrary, you stared at the door on the days you knew he’d come in, waiting anxiously for him to come and sit down just so you could feel his presence. It wasn’t that long before you were asking your coworkers to cover you for a few minutes just so you could lean against the counter by him to chat (and give him a peak of something special, but that was besides the point). 

Chats soon turned into jokes and full-blown conversations, with Bucky staying behind long after closing time just to talk to you about anything and everything, from his past to the way you wore your hair on that particular day. 

Which is how you found yourself in your current little predicament. 

“Fuck, Bucky,” you hissed, slapping your hand against the counter beneath you. 

Bucky’s hand travelled up your back, entangling in your hair and pulling your head back, your back arching against him. 

“What happened, baby?” he cooed into your ear, thrusts relentless and never faltering. You whined in response, swallowing back a heavy breath as his lips trailed against your shoulder.

“So... so good,” you managed, and you felt him smirk against your skin. 

His hand left your hair, snaking around to the front to wrap around your neck loosely, and a chill ran down your spine. 

11:47 p.m. and an hour and a half past closing time, shades only half shut on the glass door of the entrance, the only light in the room coming from the streetlight outside and the digital clock on the wall behind you. 

Heavy lidded eyes traveled to watch the door, only a few feet away from where Bucky was pounding persistently into you, your skirt flipped up and panties around your ankles. The fact that anybody walking by would just have to look through the blinds to see you getting railed made you breathless.

Bucky’s low hum floated into your ears, hot breath fanning against your cheek as he rolled his hips to hit that spot that made you clench around him. 

“I’m- I’m gonna-”

Your stuttering made him slow his hips, and in return you whimpered.

“Gonna what? Gonna cum? Hm?”

You huffed at his condescending tone, and he slowed down even more, to the point where you could feel him dragging along your walls, hot and heavy. 

“What if I just-”

Bucky stopped moving his hips completely, and tears pricked at the back of your eyes as your chest heaved, his grip tightening only slightly around your throat.

“- don’t let you?” he finished, pulling out almost completely then, and you groaned in frustration. You felt the knot that had been forming in your stomach loosen, the tingling in your legs fading, and you furrowed your brows in a desperate plea for release.

“P-please,” you mewled. “Please, please, I need to, I have to-”

Bucky seemed to be satisfied with your begging, because he thrusted himself into you again, bottoming out with the slap of skin on skin and your quiet, breathy moans being the only sounds in the restaurant. Each thrust brought out a moan from your lips, a layer of sweat covering your skin. The first tear left your waterline and rolled down your cheek as he pressed down harder against you, the edge of the counter digging into your hip bones deliciously. 

“More,” you whispered, eyes clenched shut as your head went dizzy with pleasure. 

Bucky obliged, nipping at your neck as his hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat travelled downwards to lay a slap to your ass, and you hissed at the sting. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, eyes rolling to the back of your head and legs going weak. If it wasn’t for Bucky’s body holding you upright against the counter, you were certain you would’ve collapsed. Warmth took over your belly as Bucky groaned in your ear, cumming inside you, and he let go of your neck, allowing you to drop your head down in an attempt to catch your breath. 

After he had pulled out of you carefully, helping you pull your panties back up, you turned around, a lazy smile on your lips as you leaned back against the counter on your elbows. Bucky gave you a skeptical look, smirk crawling onto his face as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“What is it?”

You shrugged, tugging at the hem of his shirt to straighten it out a bit. 

“Nothing,” you said mindlessly, smile only growing larger.

He chuckled in amusement, grabbing your hand in his. 

“What is it?”, he repeated, and you sighed dramatically.

“Well, I mean...,” you started, eyes travelling around behind him in false apprehension. “I hope you know this means you gotta take me out now, Barnes.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment, the grin on his face only brightening. 

“Alright, I promise I will.”

____________________

And Bucky kept his promise. 

Five days after your initial hook-up, Bucky came buzzing at your apartment building entrance, bouquet of flowers in his hands, smile on his face. 

“Wow, Barnes, I didn’t know you were into romantic gestures,” you teased, taking the flowers from his hands. He shrugged, shoving them into his pockets as he walked alongside you. 

“I wasn’t. Not really, never used to be.”

He glanced at you as he finished his sentence, but you were too preoccupied with the smell of fresh blossoms to notice the smile playing on his lips. 

“Things change, I guess,” he muttered, and you grinned at him. 

“So, where are we going?”

“I told you already,” he said with a teasing shake of his head. 

“It’s a surprise.”

____________________

Three official dates later and Bucky finally came up to your apartment. 

Albeit, a bit hesitant, because it was well past midnight and “I don’t wanna wake up your neighbors with my huge footsteps, doll.”

It took some convincing but he finally agreed to come up and sit with you a while. You said you would show him your favorite books, introduce him to some new literature he could catch up on. And you definitely planned on doing that, but things with Bucky have a funny way of playing out differently than you expect. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, doll-”

Humming in amusement, you smiled down at him, straddled around his thighs.

Your fingers gripping his hair, you held his head so his eyes were level with yours, and you saw the struggle in them as your other hand teased his cock through his boxers with gentle fingers. 

“What is it, baby?” you pouted, tugging harder on his hair, and he winced at the feeling. 

“Stop teasing,” he hissed through clenched teeth, and you feigned a disappointed frown. 

“Now that’s not very nice of you.”

Bucky shut his eyes quickly in a split second of frustration, and when he opened them again, you noticed his pupils were blown wide, staring into yours.

After a deep sigh, his demeanor changed, lids heavy and lips swollen from the bites and kisses you attacked them with previously. 

“Please...,” he said in a whisper. “Please don’t tease me.”

His words brought a smile to your face, and you pretended to think about it, tilting your head to the side slightly. 

“Alright, pretty boy, since you asked so nicely.”

You punctuated your sentence with a roll of your hips against his, and a soft whimper left his lips when your bare pussy rolled over his dick. 

Your fingers found the hem of his boxers, and you pulled them down, teasingly slow, Bucky lifting his hips a bit to make it easier for you. He breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling of release, and you felt your breath quicken at the sight of his cock, heavy and hard and begging to be touched. 

“Please.”

It came out quietly, desperately, as he stared into your eyes, and you almost smirked at the way he looked near tears. You hummed in adoration, leaning your head down somewhat to press a kiss to his lips. 

“So needy...,” you muttered into his mouth as you rolled your hips upwards, the tip of his cock gliding through your wet slit, and his hips bucked up involuntarily. 

He whined against your lips, nipping at the bottom one when you sank down onto his cock without warning. A sigh left your body when you felt him stretch you out, filling you out completely. You clenched around him, trying to adjust, and he groaned, forehead dropping against your chest. 

No matter how many times he’d been inside you, you always need time to adjust, and you would wait. Oh, you would wait hours if you needed to, because once you got a taste of him, that was it. You were ruined for other men. 

And Bucky could spend hours inside you, warm and wet and perfectly made for him, your body wrapped around his. All you had to do was ask him, and he would fall to his knees in worship. 

You sat on him, just like that, for... seconds? Minutes? An hour, maybe? Bucky couldn’t tell because it didn’t really matter to him. His mind was clouded with the feeling of you tight around his throbbing cock, and your lips on his neck and jaw, and your fingers in his hair. 

Bucky looked up at you, almost glowing with sex and gratification, and he swore to himself he would pray to you, pray for you, pray with you, every single day for the rest of his life. How he went a century without the absolution of your touch was entirely beyond him, but he knew he wouldn’t let you go now that he had you in his grasp. 

You started moving, slowly, teasingly, and Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. Sighs and pants left your lips at the feeling of being full, stuffed to the brim, and it took everything Bucky had in himself not to grab your hips and absolutely destroy you himself. 

“Oh, God,” you panted into his ear, rolling your hips, chasing your pleasure as Bucky’s chest heaved with labored breaths. 

It was pure torture, in the best way. His eyes watched the way your brows furrowed slightly in concentration, your lips slightly parted. Watched your hands search for purchase on his body, anywhere they could find, as you clenched tighter around him. 

If there was a place he had to choose to stay for the rest of eternity, it was here. 

“I love you,” he mumbled, almost subconsciously, and your movements faltered only slightly. 

Biting your lip, your eyes searched his face, and found only honesty. Bucky’s hands came up to rest on your thighs, fingers digging into them, the contrast of one warm hand and one cold hand sending shockwaves down your spine. 

“I love you more,” you whispered, pulling him in by his cheeks for a short kiss. 

Your pushes and pulls, ups and downs, gasps and moans grew quicker, more incessant, and Bucky could tell by the way your walls fluttered quickly around his cock that you were about to cum. 

____________________

He laid there, next to you. 

He laid there a long time, fingers tracing shapeless patters along your arm as you slept, and his eyes studied your face.

No, Bucky Barnes never had a serious girlfriend. There were girls he’d go out with, girls he would smooch. Girls he would walk home and girls he would smile at. None of them ever gave him the feeling he was running after, always thinking it was right there but always just out of reach. The feeling you gave him, like he was underwater but could still breathe. Like he was on fire but cold as ice, like he never breathed properly before he met you and now, after getting a taste of you, he would never be able to breathe properly without you again. 

He laid there, body heavy and mind satisfied, and he understood. He understood why Adam ate the apple, why Orpheus turned around. He understood why Sparta started a war for Helen, and he understood why Romeo drank the poison. 

He would do it all, sin and be punished a million times over if it meant he would get a glimpse of you every day. 

____________________

TAGLIST:

@dreamsley​ @a-ngeli-que​ @mindyoshiii​ @agirlinherhead​ @s-katergorl​ @ace-27749​ @leyannrae​ @tailsoflightning​ 

[finelinevogue]

for tour content, maybe you could do an imagine that’s like a series of small moments like little interactions on stage or picking tour outfits or nights in the tour bus/airplane ! just little domestic things <3

i’m going to do this because i have so many weird ideas and just no way of putting them all together ! ;

Grilled Cheese Conversations

The tour bus smelt like it was on fire.

You had been sitting in the living room with Harry for a couple of hours, both of you just skimming through photos from the Met Gala together - judging obviously, before Harry announced he wanted to make himself some food and so left for the kitchen.

He’d been in there for 45 minutes now and the smells that were diffusing from their smelt bloody awful. Harry could cook really extravagant foods, like caviar and lobster, but when it came to something as simple as making a sandwich he was absolutely terrible for some reason. The point was proven when he walked back into the room with a burnt coal looking sandwich.

“What, is that?” You laughed, still sitting with your phone in your hand and waiting for him to come back so you could continue judging these Met outfits together.

“It’s a grilled cheese sandwich?” He spoke as if you were dumb and you should have known that instantly. He walked over to you, sitting down next to you and resting the plate on the table in front of him.

“No, that’s a piece of char.” You raised your eyebrows disapprovingly and watched as he scowled at you for being mean to his culinary skills.

“Well i’m sure it’ll taste great.” He looked smug, up until he took a bite from the cheesy melted - burnt - bread. As soon as the food touched his tongue he was quick to spit it back out again, you groaning in disgust. He pushed the plate away and looked at it in anger. “45 bloody minutes and it tastes of burnt wood.”

“I’m not even going to ask why you know that.” You raised your hands and laughed, watching as he turned to scowl at you again. He had quite the angry face when he wanted to. “Sorry, alright! Do you want me to go make you one?” You asked, sitting up to go and make him one if he wanted.

Harry pulled you into his lap so you were sat with your back to his front, his arms looping around your waist tightly to keep you with him. His chin rested on your shoulder and he kissed your cheek because he could. “No. Stay w’me.” He got all cuddly and soft and you loved it when Harry was like this. He was like a life-size version of your stuffed teddy bear you used to sleep with at night - all cute and cuddly.

“Okay, okay.” You calmed him when he thought you were just going to get up and go. “Let’s judge some people again.” You pulled out your phone and opened it to a twitter account which had posted all of them.

“Where did we get up to?” Harry asked, fiddling with the skin on your stomach as his hands snaked beneath your hoodie.

“Um, Kim K.” You clicked on the image of her and tried to hold back the laugh. It was a dreadful outfit and highly meme worthy, so you’ve heard.

“Well…” Harry sighed, reaching his own hand to swipe seeing as he didn’t have anything more to say on this particular one.

“Billie looked beautiful.” You smiled as Billie’s huge dress came on display, looking a fluffy pink marshmallow dream. She looked very Monroe with her makeup and you were always so shocked when people told you her age, because she looked so mature.

“She must’ve taken inspiration from Marilyn Monroe.” Harry added, nodding in approval of Billie’s outfit.

“More so than bloody Addison Rae.” You laughed, thinking about how far that had been from the truth.

“Addison who?” Harry asked and it made you smile and turn your head around to look at him. He looked down at you, noticing the cheeky glint in your eyes and couldn’t help but steal a glance at your beautiful lips.

“This is why I love you.” You sighed happily and gave him a kiss on the lips, cupping his cheek to direct him better. You were only going for a peck, but Harry made it that you got the full taste of him and kissed you for a minute longer. He felt perfect against you and you really did just simply love him.

“Yeah,” Harry broke from the kiss for a brief moment to tell you something important, “and I love you.”

••••

All Things Sparkles

It was an hour before the Dallas show and Harry was getting ready for another big show.

Dallas were known for being crazy and you were so excited for the energy they’d bring for Harry tonight. Harry always enjoyed the shows more when the crowd was actually ecstatic to be there and he knew Dallas wouldn’t let him down.

He was putting on his silk trousers, Lambert just to the side as he was ironing the shirt to get rid of all its crinkles. Your Harry currently looked so funny in his Gucci silk trousers, his bright yellow socks with bananas all over them, his suspenders hanging down by his sides and no shirt on as of yet. It was the socks that really pieced everything together. He had just had his hair and makeup done, just needing to get dressed before he was completely ready.

He was really glowing tonight. It made you happy to see him like this.

You were watching him through the vanity mirror as you touched up your own makeup, adding highlighter to the areas you wanted to shine a little brighter. You also started adding some gems around your eyes, wanting to be a bit different tonight along with your glittery eye shadow that you didn’t normally do. You were glueing your gems when you felt your boyfriends presence behind you, the heat of his bare chest radiating against the skin of your back.

“You look stunning, m’love.” You looked up through the vanity to catch his gaze, he smiled and you smiled back.

“Thank you. Not too bad looking y’self.” You cheekily replied, motioning towards his bare chest. “Are y’going to be keeping that out all night?” You asked, being hopeful that he would, because fuck it was hot, but also wouldn’t, because you wanted this part of him all to yourself.

“You’d like that wouldn’t y’yeah.” He squinted his eyes at you and nodded, a clear sign that no his tits were not going to be out for Dallas. “Up.” He spoke, lifting you up from under your armpits and walking around the chair so that he could sit down himself. He plonked you right back on top of his lap and watched as you leant forwards to add another gem to the corner of your eye.

“Y’putting me off.” You whined, your ass leaning right back onto the hard of his cock. He couldn’t keep soft around you, that was his kryptonite.

“Oh i’m sorry. It’s not like m’girlfriend is just sitting there looking ridiculously beautiful and yet so innocent.” He leaned forwards to whisper the rest of his words, because they were only for you. “Just look so fuckable right now.”

You had to bite your tongue from turning around and shoving it down his throat, because god did his words make you want to jump his bones. “Shut up, before y’get us both in trouble.” You wiggled your ass back over his cock as you sat back to admire the work of the gems brightening up around your eyes.

“Then stop being a fuckin’ tease.” He grabbed your hips and stopped your from moving anymore. You just smiled and put the lid back on the glue before it went everywhere, especially over Harry’s expensive clothing - even the banana socks were £17.

You looked at him through the mirror to find him already looking at you. You blushed quietly as you watched him take in your beauty. It was quite hard to get over just how ethereal he looked tonight and it made you so feral knowing he was all yours and only yours. Looking down at the gems you got an idea.

“Do y’want me to put some gems on y’too?” You asked, pointing to the ones around your eyes and thinking that he’d looked even prettier with some around his.

“Only if i’m matching w’you yeah.” Harry nodded excitedly. You got up from the chair and swizzled yourself around until you were sat back on his lap, only this time straddling him. You were so close to him now that it was getting ridiculously harder to stop yourself from taking him here and now. You leant down, instead, and gave him a lasting kiss on the skin covering his heart. Your lips lingered there for a moment, before you moved back up to see him already staring down. He smiled when he saw the stain of your lipstick printed over where his heart beat. “I proper love you, Y/N.” He smiled and cupped your chin in his fingers to bring your lips to him.

“No!” Lambert shouted, making you two pause. “You two’ll never stop if you start, so don’t start until after the bloody show.” He rolled his eyes and continued with his ironing, making you and Harry chuckle feeling like high-school kids.

“Okay, now stay still.” You spoke as you glued the first gem and held it steady against the corner of his eye. He wanted to keep his eyes open to keep looking at you, because that’s all he ever wanted to do, but you instructed him to close them just to be on the safer side. It went on easy, sticking to the outer corner of his eye, in a soft white colour that matched his trousers. Yours were the same creamy white colour to match the colour of your dress.

“Do I look pretty yet?” Harry asked rhetorically, but you replied anyways.

“Y’look pretty always.” You kissed the top of his nose whilst you glued the other gem. He closed his eyes as you told him to, but he still smiled at your words. You concentrated as you stuck the gem to the corner of the other eye and sat back to make sure they were even. Harry opened his eyes to see you making sure they looked good. “S’perfect.”

“Like you then.” He hummed in appreciation of you.

“Let’s see then.” Lambert asked, making you both turn in the chair to face him and you readjusting yourself so you were sat back against his chest. “Oh yes! Okay this is photo worthy.” Lambert took out his phone and held it up to face you both, making sure you could see the gems.

“I don’t even have a shirt on!” Harry exclaimed, but held you close anyways as you smiled for the photos and his words making you belly laugh. You posed more seriously for a few and then took a few silly ones to. Your favourite one, though, was one where you were laughing so happily and Harry was looking at you and smiling in awe over you.

He set it as his lock screen. You set it as yours. It would stay that way until your new favourite photos became your wedding day photos.

••••

Sign Of The Times

Tonight was the first Love on Tour show you were attending, only having missed opening night in Las Vegas.

Harry knew that you were coming, but you’d told him to source you out within the crowds because you wanted a full fan experience. You’d gotten the all-clear from Harry’s security, allowing your from backstage and straight through into the cherry pit. You had your lanyard and your sign ready, as fans started to pile in. You were originally going to go straight to the barricade, but you thought the fans deserved that more than you so you hung back and stayed the ends of the crowds.

A few fans spotted you and came up to asking for photos, so you did. Posing with your mask on was weird because you still smiled underneath the mask even though it wouldn’t be seen in the photo. Some fans asked whether they could stay and dance with you ask night to which you were so happy for, because dancing alone would’ve been embarrassing even for you.

The intro for golden started and the crowds were deafening, but all you could think about was your boyfriend and his challenge to spot you within the crowds. Golden and Carolina came and went, you dancing like a crazed fan along with all your new friends. Everyone was so happy and some were even crying tears of joy.

There was just love, love, love, everywhere.

Harry came to his first pause and took a quick drink since he was already quite hot and the altitude in Denver was crazy.

“Good evening Denver!” He shouted into the mic, waiting for the screams of his fans to uproar and then settle before speaking on, “The altitude is crazy here. I’ve barely done anything and I can’t breathe!” He spoke, making you slightly anxious for him but you knew he would be okay because he had an oxygen tank on stage. “Now, m’girlfriend is somewhere here tonight and i’ve gotta find Y/N before I lose the challenge.”

The fans around you started screaming that you were here and the message kept on getting passed down the crowds until they reached the front. Harry was walking around your side of the stage until he met the fans at the front saying that you were behind them. Harry held his hand over his eyes to help him find you better and you held up your sign to help him. Your sign had taken you all of 5 minutes to doodle, but the message was clear;

“I want a kiss from the one in suspenders.”

“There y’are.” He laughed when he saw your sign, dropping his mic and leaning over himself to catch his breathe from the belly laugh that he just let out. You smiled when you saw him laugh, the fans around you screaming and thanking you for making him be this way. Harry stood up and looked at you, messing with his earpiece so he could hear the arena better.

“Kiss me!” You shouted and the people around you were also shouting for him to kiss you. Even with masks on Harry could clearly understand the message.

“I wanna kiss you but I can’t!” He spoke through his mic and his voice echoed throughout the arena, making everyone scream and you simply blush. You knew he couldn’t come and just give you a kiss, it would be too dangerous, but he sent you loads of blown kisses instead and you kept them all. You sent your own back and he stuffed them all in his back pocket, before moving on to his next song before he got told off.

“Damn, he really loved you.” One of your new fans friends says next to you and all you could think was; yeah, yeah he does.

••••

My Only Angel*

For four hours he had been gone.

Four hours since he was in this hotel room with you. Four hours since you had first started acting like a brat. Four hours since he’d gotten fed up of our attitude and tied you up and left a vibrator pulsing against your clit. Four hours since your first orgasm, four minutes since your last.

The whole time Harry had been on stage, all he could think about was you being bound tight in his hotel room and dripping wet from the number of orgasms you would’ve had. He knew you’d never be able to hold yourself for four hours, so he didn’t say you couldn’t cum only he forgot to mention that the number of times that you did cum would be the number of times he denied you later on in the evening. Harry had gotten especially hard performing Only Angel, because that was your song that he’d written for you and then fucked you countless times to. Fans noticed, but put it down to the adrenaline of being onstage rather than the thought of his girlfriend being tied up and overstimulated back in his hotel room.

You just came down from the high of another orgasm when Harry walked through the door. You sighed when you saw him, thinking this would finally be it and he’d let you go free now you’ve suffered your punishment. That was wishful thinking, however.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” Harry pretended, wanting to tease you as much as possible, as he walked past you and hung his jacket on the back of a chair.

“H-harry.” You sighed, squeezing your eyes when you moved and felt the vibrator hit and new and exciting angle. You moaned quietly and had to suppress the embarrassing cries you wanted to let out.

“Yes?” Harry moved so he was standing at the edge of the bed, undoing the buttons on his shirt one-by-one. He looked so hot with his sleeves rolled and the suspenders already dropped down to his sides.

“I-I please s-st- enough.” You whimpered, pulling on the restraints to try and stop it yourself but you’d already tried that one too many times and nothing has come of it.

Your wrists were slightly red and bruised from all the tugging you’d been doing and Harry noticed that as he peeled away his shirt from his body. He threw the silk shirt somewhere else in the room and walked over to the right side of the bed, sitting down to get a closer look at your wrists. He leant down to give it a gentle rub and a kiss. You sighed in delight at the feeling of his cool lips burn against your flaming skin. Harry sat up and tilted your face to the side so you could face him, slight tears in your eyes. He looked at you for a few moments, taking in the shear beauty of you and your glorious body, before making sure you were alright.

“What’s your colour, baby?” He asked you gently, stroking your cheek and then running his thumb along your bottom lip with a soft pull.

“G-green.” You nodded and he smiled, leaning in to kiss you on your desperate lips. You basked in the taste of him, closing your eyes like you needed to save this moment to memory forever. You loved him like this, when he was dominant with you. He let you be submissive like you wanted to be.

“That’s my good girl.” He leaned back from you and moved onto the bed more, straddling your bare body. The silk of his pants felt erotic against your hot skin and you moaned at the dreamy sensation. He ran his large, ringed, hands up and down your body, feeling every curve and crevice. He massaged your boobs lightly in his hands, up and down your stomach and to your inner thighs behind him. You hummed at the feeling, gasping when Harry finally turned off the vibrator and moved it away from you. You felt lighter from freedom all of a sudden.

“T-hank you.” You breathed out, opening your eyes to meet his electric green ones. Wow, he looked beautiful - still slightly sweaty and hot from his concert.

“Don’t thank me yet, angel.” He grinned as he took down his trousers and pants, pushing them to the floor with his foot.

He didn’t even wait for you to register what was going on before he slipped himself inside of you. You loved the feeling so greatly, but your clit was still so sensitive. You shuddered as he picked up his pace and thrusted into you harder and harder, faster and faster. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, made you arch your back and your toes curl and then feeling if him so deep inside of you was enough to make you cum already, again.

“Feel s-so good.” You looked at him and saw the desire within his eyes. He was so full of lust right now, because the sight of you tied up with him pounding into you is better than simply imagining it. Nothing could feel more euphoric than this, both of you were sure of that.

“Yeah? Feel me all around you? So perfect f’me. M’beautiful angel.” Harry moaned out, cupping one of his hands around your throat and pushing you deeper into the mattress, whilst his other hand went to cup your breasts and give them the devotion they deserved.

Everything felt everywhere.

His rocks became sloppier as he reached his high, yours approaching much sooner than you thought it would. You were surprised you actually had anything left in you. His cock hit a spot inside of you that made you scream out and he felt you collapse around him all at once, causing his own release to quickly follow. He continued to fuck you through your release and bent himself over to press his lips to yours. He felt and tasted amazing, you couldn’t get enough. It would never be enough.

“Love you so much.” You spoke the best you could and Harry released his hand from your throat, leaning down to kiss it softly. He reached over to your hands to untie them afterwards, giving them both a few kisses over your wrists when he saw the harsh marks. Your arms were so tired that they just fell to your sides, but Harry kept on touching you softly; stroking your messy hair away from your face and caressing your cheek softly as if he hadn’t just fucked you raw. He kept his face close to you as he whispered the words that would stay imprinted on your heart forever.

“I love you, Y/N.”

[collecting-stories]

Midnight - JJ Maybank

Request: Hello, I would love to read something when reader gets shot and JJ is worried sick about her. Thank you!

A/N: Thank you for this insanely inspiring request...hopefully I did it justice.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The smoke from the bonfire dissipated as it rose, like clouds blending into the darkness of the night. You kept your eyes shut, so tight you could see colors behind your lids as you listened to the sound of Rafe and Barry tearing through the Chateau. If you looked to your right, you knew Sarah would be there, just as scared as you were. On your left side, a branch over, was JJ. He would probably be trying to save face, to look unafraid even though this all felt a little too real for any of you. Just moments earlier, minutes, really, you’d been sitting at the bonfire with JJ, his sweatshirt keeping you warm in the chill of the early autumn night, everyone shouting after Pope and Kiara as they took the HMS out.  

Having John B and Sarah back felt surreal. Like you could do anything you wanted to do. And somehow, even scrambling up the big tree in front of the Chateau while John B threw a bucket of water over the fire, you still truly thought that everything would be okay.  

You hadn’t even felt it at first, as Barry grabbed Rafe and he fired up into tree, you dropped flush against the limb, bark digging into your body. You saw a bullet hit the tree near JJ and all you could remember thinking was how relieved you were that he hadn’t been hit. You waited until you heard Barry and Rafe leave, speeding away from the Chateau, before you tried to move. And then you felt it, a burning in your shoulder worse than the time you’d broken your arm skateboarding. You tired to push yourself back up but your right arm gave out and you fell into the tree, cursing as you lost your balance and slipped, landing on the grass. 

Flat on your back, staring up at the leaves in the tree obscuring the stars and the blurry vision of JJ jumping out of the tree. Sarah reached you first, falling onto her knees beside you and pushing the old sweatshirt out of the way to try and see where the blood that was coating the fabric was coming from.  

“Holy shit!” Sarah shouted, “oh my god…oh my god! John B, she’s bleeding! I think she was shot!”

John B pulled Sarah away from you, covering her mouth with his hand, “be quiet. The last thing we need is for them to turn back around.” Trying to shut her up was in vain, all you could hear was the pounding of JJ’s boots on the ground and John B cursing when he was pushed out of the way as JJ crowded in to see you, “lemme see!” JJ said, dropping to his knees next to you. 

Having him there, so close to you, felt like it reignited something in you and you turned your head to the sound of his voice, obscured stars fading until all you saw in the dark was JJ kneeling over you. “JJ,” you reached your hand across your body to feel your shoulder and he pushed you away, shaking his head. 

“Don’t, I got it…it’s gonna be okay.” He promised, pressing his hand into the blood-soaked sweatshirt. “John B man, we gotta get her to a hospital.”  

“What is it?” You asked, words slurring, they felt heavy on your tongue...like you’d forgotten them. “What happened?”

“No, it’s okay,” JJ repeated. He wiped one of his hands on the front of his shirt before reaching your free hand and squeezing it, “it’s okay, we’re gonna get help.”

“We need to get outta here, if they heard us they might circle back.” John B urged, his train of thought still on Rafe and Barry. He tried to grab Sarah’s arm as she scrambled for the front door of the Chateau, “Sarah!”

“I’m getting the keys to her car, John B! JJ’s right, we need to take her to the hospital!” She called, tearing through the picked over living room. Rafe and Barry had done a number on the inside of the small house but she managed to spot your keys, the Kildare County High School lanyard sticking out amongst couch cushions. 

While she dug through the house, JJ stayed by your side, hand pressed over your shoulder, trying to apply pressure to the wound and stop the bleeding, staining red. John B opened up the back door of your jeep, pushing your backpack off the seat and grabbing a towel from the trunk to throw down. “JJ,” he turned back to his friend to find JJ practically shaking as he sat there, over you, “JJ, we need to get her in the back seat.” 

JJ nodded his head vigorously as he tried to stand up, stumbling back the first time and catching himself on the ground, bloodied hands sticking to grass and dirt. His whole body was shaking and you were lying there, half-conscious but too out of it to respond to anything, eyes flickering shut as JJ and John B lifted you. The movement jostled you and you screamed at the shock of it.  

“Shit! Careful John B!” JJ cursed, unable to do much else for you.

“I’m doing the best I can!” John B snapped.  

Everything felt like it was moving in autopilot for JJ, all his focus was on you and he was completely positive that if he stopped for even a second, he would collapse. Since his feet hit the ground beneath the tree every thought in his mind had been you.  

They were careful of your shoulder as they loaded you in, JJ climbing into the backseat of your jeep and guiding you to lay over his lap. You groaned again as he grabbed your arm, keeping you on your back when you tried to roll over. He leaned down, kissing your forehead and promising, quietly, that everything was going to be okay.  

“I got the keys!” Sarah shouted, holding them up as she ran to the car. “I got the keys!” 

The drive to the hospital felt like a blur. You weren’t even entirely sure that Sarah stopped at any of the stop signs that you knew you were on the road. JJ kept his hand on your shoulder the entire time, though somewhere along the way you stopped feeling it.  

You couldn’t remember it, and when you were finally lucid enough to remember anything at all no one mentioned it, but the minute you were pushed behind the doors, away from the waiting room, JJ lost it. He’d spent the whole ride shaking like a leaf and as they wheeled you away it was everything John B could do to keep his best friend in the waiting room. He had his arms around JJ’s shoulders and he almost lifted him off the ground trying to keep him away.  

“JJ! She’s gonna be okay.” Sarah said, grabbing at his arm as he pulled out of John B’s hold. As he broke away, JJ punched the wall by the door, shouting ‘fuck’ at the top of his lungs and alerting the desk nurse to the three of them. No one told you, later on, that JJ had punched the wall though you noticed his bandaged hand, and no one told you that two security guards had to escort him outside until he could cool down.  

John B stayed in the waiting room while Sarah followed JJ outside. The security guards left him at a bench and Sarah knelt down in front of him, putting a hand on his knee to try and calm him down, or ground him as much as possible. “Hey, the doctors are doing everything they can JJ and it’s going to be okay. They said that the bullet didn’t hit anything major.”  

“I can’t...” he breathed out, covering his face with his hands, “I don’t...what do I do if she isn’t?”

“She will be, Jay.” Sarah replied, “I think though...I think we should call Shoupe and tell him what happened.”

“Fucking Rafe man...it doesn’t even matter. Shoupe didn’t do shit about Gavin and he’s not doing anything about Peterkin...he’s not gonna give a fuck about this either.”  

“You don’t know that.”  

By the time you did wake up, Kiara and Pope had come back from the HMS, huddled in the corner of the waiting room with John B and Sarah, whispering with each other about what had happened and checking every few seconds that JJ, who was pacing back and forth, wearing out a rug near the nurses’ station. He was the first one back to see you when the nurse finally came out to tell them that you were awake. JJ was shaking worse than he had in the car. Kiara had found a clean shirt of his in the back of her SUV, the old one tossed in a trash can in the men’s bathroom when Pope suggested changing so he didn’t totally freak you out.  

And you, JJ felt like his heart was pounding up into his throat when he walked into the hospital room and saw you laying there in bed, hooked up to IVs and only half lucid because of the morphine that they were giving you. But you gave him that sleepy smile you did in the mornings when you slept over at John B’s with him and the shaking in his hands started to subside as he dragged a chair over and sat down next to you.  

“Hey,” you whispered, voice hoarse from being intubated during surgery.  

All the promises that he’d whispered in the car, that Sarah had supplied him with as they sat up and waited all night, they were true. You were awake and you’d be okay and he was gonna nail Rafe to the wall for this...but maybe for now he’d just sit with you and remember how to breath.  

“Hey.”

[hisunshiine]

To All The Men I’ve Fucked Before ; (M) jjk

↣ When your secret 'sex' journal entries are somehow texted to the people they were written about, including a couple of coworkers and your best friend, you find your quiet work existence turned upside down. based off of TATBILB.

moodboards | playlist | Netflix ReImagined BTS Masterlist | TATMIFB masterlist 

↳ #NetflixReImaginedBTS: Jeon Jungkook x Reader starring in a fake dating au, photographer!JK, stylist!Reader

⟢ pairing: photographer!jungkook x stylist!reader

⟢ word count: 30.7k

⟢ genre + warnings: nsfw 18+, fake relationship, smluff © & angst, kissing, fluffy fake relationship cuteness, jealousy, jungkook needs help with feelings, clothed humping, explicit sexual content in the form of unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, body worship, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, hickies, blowjob, creampie, begging, strip tease if you squint, baby petname, crying, feelings of heartbreak, oh did i mention angst? namkook fist fight, minimal arguing, minimal blood, other idols make brief appearances, OT7 is present 

⟢ summary: When your secret 'sex' journal entries are somehow texted to the people they were written about, including a couple of coworkers and your best friend, you find your quiet work existence turned upside down. based off of the netflix film and novel by jenny han, but different.

⟢ an: hello, hello! this is probably my favorite story to date that i’ve written and the longest one shot! I am so grateful to everyone who helped me by reading this (most are not on tumblr), but especially my baby hana, @taestulip​, who always reads and hypes me up. the movie/book series it’s based off of is honestly one of my faves, and turning it into an adult version was a lot of fun! I know i took out some characters and changed a lot of the plot devices, but for good reason, as it is it’s own novel, I did not want to encroach on that territory. fake dating au’s are some of my absolute faves and so i hope you enjoy this! sorry for the length, sksksks.

⟢ prologues: NJ & Reader | Love Triangle (coming soon) |

The large glass building was located on the corner of the block, in the heart of the city. A sight to see from all corners of the downtown area, you loved that you worked at BigHit Music. Of course, housing the globally recognized idol duo, SeoulM8, made working there fun. You walked into the building, and swiped your badge as you made your way through the secured entrance and up the elevator to your office. 

The gold plaque on your door highlighted your name and position. To this day you’re still in awe to see your name engraved in sans serif with the words “Lead Wardrobe Stylist” written beneath it. You entered the office, flipping on the lights and smiling at the large board along the back wall. It was covered with the designs you would need for the upcoming shoot for SeoulM8’s fan content, first single off their newest album, and plans for the concert wardrobe as well. 

Placing your empty insulated coffee tumbler on your desk, you set down all of your belongings, organizing your design tablet, notebook, and favorite writing utensils before once again taking the tumbler in hand. A cup of coffee would be perfect to start your busy Monday before your meeting with Jimin and Taehyung about their wardrobe later today. 

Walking into the employee lounge area, you set about making your coffee. Others walked in and out, dropping off packed lunches and grabbing coffee as well, so you can’t help but hear the gossip as two of the women who work with SeoulM8 discuss the latest office drama.

“I can’t believe it. She broke up with him!” Becca said, her colorful pixie cut swaying slightly as she shook her head.

“She’s crazy, Jungkook is gorgeous; have you seen his thighs?” Theresa responded, twirling her dark purple curls in wonder.

You stirred in the caramel creamer slowly, listening to their conversation. Jeon Jungkook and Jeon Somin (no relation) had been dating for almost as long as you could remember. It was surprising to hear that they were broken up. 

“Somin is really pretty too, though, she could have any guy… What if that’s what it was?”

“You think someone better than Jungkook came along and wooed her?”

“I mean… I swore I heard a rumor that she went out on a date with one of the actors, but who knows. All we know for sure is that Jungkook is single.” 

Finishing your coffee, you closed the lid to your favorite cup and left the room, smiling politely to Becca and Theresa who provided you with the information that had your head reeling. The entire walk back to your office, and even once you were seated at the desk, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jungkook and Somin.

Somin was one of the first friends you made at BigHit School for Music and Artists when you transferred in after completing your AA requirements at another university. BHSMA operated differently than traditional universities, converting students to employees at the company associated with the school. It was where you met Jungkook, Jimin, and a few other people that you worked closely with at the company. After that first year though, you grew apart from some of the people you spent that entire first year with, making new friends, like the one walking in through your office door.

So lost in thoughts of the past, you almost knocked over your perfectly made coffee onto your design tablet, where you had been sketching aimlessly. A dimpled smile was the cause of your quickly beating heart, complimenting the face of Namjoon, who startled you when he called your name loudly.

“Joon, I swear, one day, you will be the death of me, and my electronics.”

“Listen, you dropped your phone all on your own, no one told you to be scared when I walked into the room.”

“Stop being so fucking loud when you enter, you startle people!”

He just laughed, his pretty eyes disappearing as he expelled joy. Namjoon was glowing, his tanned skin looking healthy and youthful. You couldn’t help but smile at him as he pushed his falling platinum hair out of his dark eyes and set his gaze on you.

“I think I’m gonna do it today, Y/N.”

You froze, smile still on display, but a little less enthusiastic than when he had first walked in.

“Do it?” You asked, wary as you saw his hand drift to his inside coat pocket.

“I love her, Y/N. I think I’m gonna ask her to be mine, always.” Namjoon removed a small velvet box from his pocket and you reached for it, hand trembling slightly. Namjoon, in his excitement, was oblivious to the way you shook, as well as the sound of your heart splintering. “Do you think Jennie will like it?”

Looking at the ring tucked into the box, you nodded, not trusting your voice. Of course Jennie would. It was beautiful. A rose gold band with an opulent Moonstone set in the middle, and two smaller diamonds set on either side. You knew that the moonstone was Joon’s favorite, he talked about how much he loved the moon countless late nights that you would sit with him in his studio.

“It’s gorgeous, Namjoon.” You said quietly. This time, he noticed the tremble of your voice, and stood worriedly from where he was perched on the corner of your desk.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” He asked you, concerned by your demeanor.

“Nothing, I’m just so happy for you.” You lied, tilting your head back to blink away the forming tears. Believing you, he enveloped you into a hug and you hugged him back tightly, afraid to let go.

“Ah, you have a meeting soon and I’m here making you cry… I’ll see you after and tell you how it went! Good luck, Y/N!”

Namjoon exited your office, footsteps light as he headed towards his future… and away from you. Sinking into your chair, you take several steadying breaths in order to settle your heart. Why did it hurt so much? You had given up on the idea of you and Namjoon a long time ago. This wasn’t what you expected to have to deal with when you arrived to work, but you were a professional. Wiping your smudged eyeliner to clean up your makeup, you looked down at your design tablet, where you see the sketch of a professional camera held by a large hand up to a large doe eye half finished on your screen. 

Hitting the “new” button, you begin to draw anew on a clean canvas creating the concept for the concert design for your meeting with SeoulM8 later on.

—

Sitting at home, you massaged the soles of your feet as you rested on your couch with your younger sister, Yuna, who was doing her homework at the coffee table. It had been a long day, but Jimin and Taehyung loved your idea for their concert concept: young guys traveling Seoul for group songs, and angelic, soft individual images of them with feathered outfits to match their solo songs. 

“Yuna… Namjoon is getting engaged today.”

Your sister stopped working, turning to look at you with eyes wide. She had been diligently studying for the cosmetology courses she was taking at your alma mater in hopes of getting hired at the same company as you. This news threw her off track.

“What? He—wait, what?”

You nodded, letting out a deep sigh as you turned towards the floor to ceiling windows in the living room. Rain was steadily falling, the perfect backdrop to your mood.

“Both of our dreams are shattered. He showed me the ring and said he was proposing today. To Jennie.”

Yuna flung herself onto the couch dramatically. 

“Can we please drink to drown our sorrows? This homework can wait.” 

You nodded, turning on Netflix before getting up to grab the wine and glasses. While you stood on tiptoe at the edge of the counter, reaching up into the tall cabinet for the long stemmed glasses, the doorbell to your apartment rang.

“I’ll get it!” Yuna yelled, and so you clambered onto the counter, knees digging into the marble as you finally managed to reach your goal. 

“Oh! Namjoon?”

You almost slipped from where you were perched, confused as to why your newly engaged best friend would be loudly squelching his tennis shoes into your apartment and not ravishing his fiancee. You expected a text or call about the engagement, not a personally delivered update. 

You wouldn’t be able to pretend this time. 

Turning to look at the entryway, you see a downtrodden and sopping wet Namjoon, eyes rimmed red from crying.

“Joonie?” Your voice was soft, questioning. He maneuvered across the kitchen with just three big steps and pulled you into his arms. His body slotted between your thighs where you sat on the counter after almost falling, and he let loose a sob that broke your heart even more than earlier.

“Joon, what happened?” You asked, scared.

“J-Jennie… she said no.” Your eyes widened in shock, but you waited patiently for him to continue. “She’s moving to Japan, she took that expansion position… She broke up with me.”

—

It was a long night to say the least. 2 wine glasses turned into 3 once Namjoon had shown up. You grabbed some of his spare clothes for him to change into, threw his stuff in the washer, and joined Yuna and him back in the living room where they had both curled up and began watching The Start Up on Netflix. 

Climbing onto the couch, you wrapped your arm around him and placed your head on his shoulder. He kissed your forehead before settling in to watch TV, and you couldn’t help the way your heart reacted to it. He had always been affectionate with you during your time as best friends, though it had lessened some the more serious he and Jennie became. The difference now was that this time, he was single. A part of you hoped it could mean more in the future. 

By episode 2, Namjoon was asleep on Yuna’s shoulder; no surprise considering how tired he must have been. He had cried on his way to your apartment, and the last of his tears onto your shirt when he arrived. Luckily, you hadn’t yet changed out of your own work clothes, so when you grabbed his garments, you took the opportunity to change into a spaghetti strap tank and sweatpants for couch cuddling. You turned off the TV as you untangled yourself from him, stretching as he roused slightly from your movements. 

“Don’t you two just look like the sweetest couple,” you say yawning, gently teasing your sister who was beet red from your words. Her crush on Namjoon was nothing new, but not something she wanted him to know about. She already knew she was too young for him; seen as nothing more than his best friend’s little sister. A part of Yuna was jealous that you had better chances with him than she did.

“Shut it!” Her whisper is harsh, but Namjoon slept on, unaware of the sisterly teasing. “I already know you’re gonna write all about this in your sex book!” 

You rolled your eyes, having forgotten about your old journal that you kept. You just shrugged, leaning down to gently wake Namjoon so you can put him to bed.

“Come on sleepy… Let’s get up and go to bed okay?” 

His large frame shuffled across the living room and down the hallway to your room. You heard him plop heavily on your bed, probably already asleep without having pulled back the covers. You put the empty wine glasses into the sink and straightened up the living room a tiny bit before you went to your room as well. 

Not yet ready for bed, you sat at your desk with the small lamp on, staring at the old journal your sister reminded you about. The image on the front is faded; you can barely make out what it used to be as you’ve covered it with doodles and stickers that are peeling at the edges. Opening it, you turned through the pages, taking in the lengthy entries about the boys you’ve slept with, starting with the one you lost your virginity to. 

Your finger grazed across the fancy calligraphy where you wrote his name at the top in a purple gel pen in. Jeon Jungkook. You laughed at the way you wrote about him, first describing him as a person before giving the intimate details of the experience, and finally ending it with a brief message of what you had wanted to say to him. Your eyes scanned the page, certain sentences catching your attention as you read it. 

“...and the way he held my neck when he first entered me, I think I’m in love.”

“He said it was his first time too. Does this mean something?”

“Jungkook, having you as my first… I want you to be my last. You looked at me as if the galaxies were reflected in my eyes. I want to feel the way you make me feel all the time. I hope that this does change things between us, but in a good way.”

You cringe a little, remembering how it didn’t turn out that way. Instead, after that night 5 years ago, you didn’t talk to Jungkook for a couple of days due to exam week. You texted him after your last test and he told you to come over; he wanted to talk to you about something too. But when you went to his dorm to see him and confess, you found him with Somin, your best friend at the time. They weren’t doing anything outrageous, just sitting on his twin bed in his dorm room talking, but you heard what she was saying through the door that was cracked.

Somin was confessing. You had no idea that she liked him too. It made your heart tight knowing that he had slept with you a week prior, and now your best friend was confessing to him. To be fair, neither of you had told the other about your feelings towards him. So instead of walking in and telling him how you felt, you left. He had texted you later asking what happened to you coming over but you lied, saying you had gotten busy. 

On the last day of the semester, Somin shared that she was dating Jungkook. Shocked and heartbroken, you wasted no time packing up your dorm for the summer and traveling home. Phone calls, texts, and plans to meetup became less frequent between your group of friends over the following semester until they eventually stopped. Did you stop talking to Jungkook and Somin… or was it them that stopped talking to you? 

Turning the pages, you move on from the thoughts of the photographer and stop at the next blank page. Grabbing a blue gel pen from the cup on your desk, you write with flair. 

Kim Namjoon.

How do I even begin to express how I feel about you? God, you make my heart flutter. I met you at a time when I needed someone. You were the bane of my existence at first, blasting your loud music from the apartment under mine. Going to yell at you turned out to be the best thing. You turned out to be the best thing. Of course, you had just started going out on dates with Jennie and you would be graduating a year ahead of me, but I knew that we would stay best friends. I mean, most BHSMA students intern at and get hired by the company. So for the longest time, I hid my feelings from you. That one night, before you and Jennie were exclusive… when we had sex, I thought my heart would burst. I never wanted a man so badly before that night. You are the moon in my sky, Kim Namjoon. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? What other being could wrap me in love from beginning to end? Tonight you have just lost your moon. I am a terrible person because a part of me is happy to not be losing her moon. So now, I will climb into bed next to your sleeping body and hold you close as we sleep, and pray when the morning comes, in the light of the day, you will open your eyes and see me—the faint moon in the sky that has always been there for you. Maybe you will finally see me—and decide you want me too.

Setting the pen down, you reach for your phone. In your slightly drunken state, you decided to take pictures of each entry, in order to move these to a more secure environment and take your journal digital. You snapped a picture of each page (not that there were many) before you checked your phone for messages and plugged it in. You left your room to shut down all the lights now that Yuna was finished putting away her stuff and making her way to bed as well. 

“Hey, can I grab an extra notebook from your stash? I need to finish taking these notes on mixing hair colors.”

“Sure, it’s under the desk in the blue bin.”

She nodded and you continued past her, double checking the door to make sure it was locked before moving to throw Namjoon’s clothes into the dryer. Once satisfied that the house was in order, you went to your room. Yuna was standing over your desk, eyes reading your latest entry into the journal.

“Yuna! Get out!”

“This is beautiful though, he should see it. You need to tell him how you feel!” 

You shook your head.

“No. He just got his heart broken. It’s not the time to tell him.”

“You’re stubborn,” she whispered back at you, “you’re gonna lose him again!”

“Then that’s how it was destined to be. But I am not taking advantage of his vulnerable state.”

“You’re gonna be single forever. Spending every night with your baby sister, drinking wine because all the men you have ever loved have moved on!”

“Go to bed, Yuna!”

She shrugged as she walked out of the room, knowing that she was right. Deep down, a part of you felt like she was right too. 

Climbing into bed, you struggled to lift the covers over Namjoon’s slumbering frame before it pulled free and you could cover the two of you. As you settled into the bed next to him, he instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his chest in his sleep. 

You knew that his dreams were imagining Jennie in his arms instead. 

—

That next morning, you checked Namjoon’s phone for his calendar. Having known him for several years, you know his passcode and that he keeps his work schedule exclusively on his cell. Typing in the code, 0613, you saw that his calendar stated that he didn’t need to go to the office until around noon. 

Lucky, you thought, eyeing the time on the phone. It was a little past 6:45am, and you had to wake your sister for her hands-on class before you got ready for the day. 

“Yuna! It’s almost 7,” you say as you knocked on her door and heard a muffled response. You headed back to your room and chose your outfit, knowing that the day would be busy and long with the concept photoshoot for SeoulM8 starting today. Choosing your outfit wisely, you climbed into the shower a few minutes later and spent at least a half hour just trying to cure the small hangover from the wine. 

Once dressed, you found Yuna packing her bag for class. It was getting close to 8, which is the latest that you could leave to be at work on time, so you wrote a quick note to Namjoon and ran back to leave it on the bed. His hand snaked out of the covers just as you were pulling your hand back, a gentle grip to your wrist holding you there.

“Y/N, thank you for last night.” His voice is like a bullfrog’s croak, and you chuckled. 

“Let me get you some water and some pain meds, okay? And of course Joonie, I’m here for you.” You leaned onto the bed with one knee, smoothing his hair back from his face once he’s released your wrist. “Always.”

Pressing your lips to his warm forehead, he pulled you down onto the bed with a hug and you can’t help but laugh.

“I’ve got to go! I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded before he grips your neck, bringing his lips to your forehead this time. His lips linger longer than usual, and you shut your eyes at the tenderness of his kiss. 

“Go back to sleep, now.” You pulled away from him, going to grab the medicine and water before you and Yuna leave the apartment. 

—

You made it to work with extra time to make your coffee, so after you dropped off all of your extra stuff, you grabbed your tumbler and work tablet with all of your drawn designs for today’s shoot and made your way through the busy halls to the employee lounge. Today, the door was propped open for ease as it was a busier day in the building. 

You stood at the counter, stirring in the caramel creamer that you loved, when you felt a presence enter the room behind you.

“Y/N.”

Turning lazily, you cocked your eyebrow at Jungkook, who was standing awkwardly behind you. He had kicked the doorstop, allowing the door to close so that the two of you stood alone in the small staff kitchen. His hands were tucked into his joggers, while a white button down hung loosely from his frame. 

“Whats up JK?” You asked, expecting him to address something about the shoot. You hadn’t yet seen the men you were to dress, so you couldn’t fathom he was here to complain already about the costuming. “If it’s about the wardrobe, I haven’t even seen Tae or Jimin yet, so—”

“Actually, no. Um,” he rubbed the back of his neck before making eye contact with you, “I know that when we had sex that one time, it was great—”

Instantly, alarm bells went off in your head. What the actual fuck was Jungkook doing talking about the night you lost your virginity to each other?

“—but I just... don’t feel the same way that you do about me. You know? That was years ago, and yeah while it was just as good for me as it was for you, I’m not in love with you or anything, I just broke up with Somin too, so—”

“Jungkook! Wait—what are you talking about?”

“The text you sent me.”

“Jungkook, I haven’t texted you in weeks.” You looked down at the phone you had pulled out of the back pocket of your ripped black jeans, and opened up the messages. You noticed his text thread was now at the top. “Wait, what?”

Opening his specific thread you see the screenshot of the page from your journal that you took last night, sent to him. How the fuck did this happen? In your drunken state, did you send it to him? You begin to ramble as you throw the spoon in the sink with a loud clunk and begin screwing the lid on the coffee.

“Jungkook, stop. That was from a long time ago, it’s not recent at all, oh my god. I am so sorry you had to read that—you know what, I’m just gonna head to the set now. Okay, bye!” You breezed past him, feet carrying you out of the employee lounge with a swiftness. Once back in your office you stared at the horrid message, outraged at yourself for your drunken antics.

Drunk you must really hate sober you.

—

Work was just as hectic as you thought it was going to be. After the most embarrassing morning, you were summoned right away to a last minute meeting with Jimin and Tae, where you made minor changes to their wardrobe. 

“Y/N, you were always good at this in school, but damn. You are amazing now.” Jimin stared at you reflected in the mirror after you had turned his outfit into something fit for the concept with a few movements of the material that wrapped his body. Park Jimin, one of the few people you were still somewhat close with from that first year of school, was now a big shot idol, and one-half of SeoulM8. Kim Taehyung, his best friend, was the other part of the duo. He had met him after everyone split off after that first year. Going by the stage names Jimin and V, the two had met in their vocal lesson classes when Taehyung had switched his major, and BigHit saw potential in them. 

You walked with Jimin towards the set of the photo shoot, one of the bigger production rooms today due to the use of the second level. They would be posing next to a hole in the floor, feathers falling around them. Taehyung was already antsy to get started, and was playing around with Somin, who was one of the group’s managers, while he waited for Jimin to arrive back to the set. Now, it looked like the only person missing was the photographer. 

Walking to the fold out table set up at the back wall, you heard your phone chime. Opening to your messages, you saw a text from someone you hadn’t talked to in a while. 

“Seo Joon?” You question quietly to yourself, but before you could even read the message, you saw a similarly embarrassing photo above his reply.

“Oh God, oh God...” You clicked out of his message thread, ignoring the reply because you honestly didn’t care. What you actually cared about was if you had somehow sent the most recent entry of your journal to the last person on Earth who was ready to read it. Namjoon.

“Fuck. Oh no. Oh no.” Sitting there, you saw the message clear as day with the small read receipt that it indeed had been read by him. The door to the set opened and Jungkook came waltzing through with his assistant. Before the door had a chance to swing closed all the way, you saw Namjoon’s form enter the room. 

“Alright, let’s get started!” Jungkook’s voice was loud and called everyone’s attention except for Namjoon. His eyes were on you. He beelined your way, and you readied yourself to apologize to him, but before either of you could say anything, Jungkook interrupted.

“Hey Joon, good to see you hyung! I’m so sorry though, we got a closed set and need to get started… tight time schedule and all.”

“I just need to talk to Y/N.”

Jungkook took in Namjoon’s demeanor; eyes red, hair disheveled, voice wobbly. It was so unlike Namjoon to look this way that Jungkook looked at you before speaking. Your expression was confusing to Jungkook, as he knew Namjoon was your best friend. Your eyes were wide in fear with tears forming… when you didn’t say a word, Jungkook took charge. A part of him saw that fear in your eyes and wanted to protect you.

“Look Joon-hyung, normally I wouldn’t mind, but we need Y/N on set the entire time today. Wardrobe is important for concept photos, you can understand right? Maybe at break time or something?”

Namjoon nodded as Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist and he led you away from the table and back towards where the staging was set. When you finally chanced a look back, you saw the assistants leading Namjoon and a few other non-essential workers out of the room. Everyone else on set had watched the exchange between the three of you, including Somin. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the way Jungkook’s fingers curled around your frame.

At break time, you hid out, avoiding Namjoon who had, reluctantly, waited several hours until break was called. He would have to go into the studio soon, which you knew since you saw his calendar, and after the short 30 minute break, Jungkook retrieved you from the small side room you were hiding in when they resumed the next set of shots using black leather and wings. 

The shoot kept your thoughts off of the incident, as you so aptly decided to call it in your head, until it was time to leave. You walked out with a large group, stealthily making it to your office. You sat on the floor with your back to the door, reviewing how many received these drunken messages of yours, happy to see that only 3 actually went through, since most of them were no longer in your phone anymore or had changed their numbers. 

Park Seo Joon, an ex from your second year at BHSMA, had moved to Japan for work, and while he did respond, he figured it was a mistake and as the smart person he was, he noticed the date in the corner and was aware that it was old. You breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have avoided that potentially awkward scenario.

Hearing your phone ping, you checked the message and saw it was Jungkook. A series of messages came in from him, and you read them in succession.

Shaking your head, you stand, grabbing the white outfits from the rack an assistant had brought in earlier after the set change. Throwing them over your arm, you head off to the set in a rush, shooting back a quick text to let him know you were coming.

Most everyone from earlier was back on set, expressions showcasing various stages of irritation. You handed the clothing to an unusually quiet Somin, and lifted your now free arm to wave at the artists. Somin walked away, throwing quiet looks over at you and Jungkook, who you were standing near now that you had approached the table. Jungkook was leaning on that same table, arms crossed as he reviewed the printout of what was needed.

“You know they sent us an updated list 2 hours after we started shooting? While we were all here, they thought that we could somehow read their minds. Then when I uploaded and sent the file over to have them double check, they responded that we had to finish it tonight.”

“It’s annoying for sure, JK, but you know Jimin and Tae will deliver. Once they’re dressed I bet we’ll be done in like 15 minutes, max.”

He nodded, smiling at your optimism.

“Hey, are you gonna tell me what earlier was about? With Namjoon hyung?”

You froze, not expecting the question, but you were saved from having to answer right then, since Namjoon walked in at that moment. It was too late for you to go anywhere; you were standing too close to the door, trapped between the table and Namjoon, who looked hurt. Jungkook read the situation and took several steps away to give you some privacy with Namjoon. 

“You’ve been avoiding me all day. After that message—did you think that I wouldn’t read it? I just broke up with Jennie, Y/N, it’s… I’m not… You can’t just say this shit to me right now.”

“Namjoon—I didn’t mean to, I was drunk and I promise you it’s not what you think, I don’t feel that way, okay?” You try and take it all back, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t read what you had written the previous night. 

“You don’t feel that way? Are you kidding me? I read it!”

“No, I don’t feel that way, okay? I’m with someone else.” You lied. You hoped that he would buy it.

“Y/N, I’m your best friend. Don’t you think I would know?”

“Yeah, you're my best friend, but you and Jennie are always together, it’s been forever since we actually caught up, so yes, it’s recent okay?”

“Who are you dating then?”

You say the first name that popped into your head. The person closest to you.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I don’t believe it.” His words come out harsh, and a part of you, the part that already feels like shit because Namjoon chose to be with Jennie a couple of years ago, lashes out in hurt.

“Why? Cause someone like him could never date someone like me?”

“Yes, Y/N. You guys are too different!” His voice was getting louder, and you knew that you had to do something in order to get him to believe your lie. So you do the only thing you can think of in your heated state. You take the several steps needed to cross the space between you and Jungkook, who looked up from where he was absorbed into his phone. 

“You ready?” he asked, looking down at your small frame. 

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” Your hand snaked behind his head, and firmly grasping his neck, you leaned up on tiptoes as you pulled his mouth toward yours. You kissed him, and in his surprise, his free hands gripped your waist and he pulled you closer to him, before you were separating from him, slightly breathless. His grip tightened before it rested gently on your hip and you settled back onto your heels. 

You see the back of Namjoon’s coat trail behind him as he disappeared out the doors, pulling them shut loudly behind him.

You look back up at Jungkook, whose fingers squeeze your sides quickly to grab your attention.

“You’re definitely gonna have to explain after that kiss... baby.” 

—

Later that evening, you sat with Jungkook in his car. A black Mercedes Benz GT63S to be exact, with dark grey leather and a small bit of wood grain along the spacious dashboard. Your fingers trailed along the wood grain as you explained to Jungkook what happened, starting with the accidental drunk text messages, leading up to the reason behind your kiss. 

“So now what?” Jungkook asks, looking sideways over at you.

“I don’t know. I feel so stupid.”

“Look, Y/N… I think this could be mutually beneficial.”

You meet his eyes, a look of incredulity across your face.

“Please explain Jeon.”

“Look, earlier when I stepped in and kicked hyung off set, Somin was already eyeing the way we were behaving. She may or may not have texted me about it. Of course, I told her we were broken up, so she didn’t need to concern herself with my business. And then, when we came back to set, she made a face when they asked me to text you to come back too.” He smirked.

“I may or may not have peeped it, and may or may not have used it to my advantage. Of course, you kissing me definitely helped.” He glanced down at his phone as it lit up. Once again a message from Somin tiled above 17 other messages from her. He had been actively ignoring them while the two of you talked.

“So I say that we date.”

“We what?”

“Date. I can teach Somin a lesson about how to treat me and you can keep hyung off your back.”

“Teach Somin? I thought she broke up with you?”

“It was mutual. But this always happens. And I for one am tired of the back and forth. So this can teach her that other people want me, and I can move on, or she can stop with the drama and we stop breaking up every other week.”

You nodded. It sounded like a feasible plan, and you told him as much.

“So it’s agreed. We’re now together.”

“Not so fast, Jeon… I think we should have a backstory, get some things straight, set some rules.”

“Rules, Y/N? You sure know how to take the fun out of it.”

You rolled your eyes.

“When did we start dating?” you asked, ignoring his snide comment.

“We got together… at the beginning of the week. Somin and I broke up 2 weeks ago, though we didn’t make it public because she always does this shit...” he trailed off, before smiling back at you. “So yeah, let’s say we’ve been talking here and there everytime me and Somin would break up, and then we went on a couple dates during that first week we broke up and made it exclusive this week.”

You commit this to memory, then pull out your tablet and begin jotting it down with the stylus.

“Okay, so this is new, but we’ve been on each other’s radar for a bit. I think that’s believable, especially since we’ve known each other just as long as you and Somin have. How do you plan to make her jealous? It has to seem real, you know?”

“Trust me, she already thinks this is real,” he nods to his phone again, now at 28 unread messages from Somin, “so I think something that we can do is start arriving together. Maybe do little things for each other that are cute coupley things, be seen together. Kiss at work. Maybe I can sleep over a few nights or you at mine?” He winks at you.

“I thought you didn’t see me that way, Jeon.” You looked down at the tablet, furiously scribbling what he said in order to avoid looking at him and showing the way he caused your cheeks to warm.

“I said I wasn’t in love with you, babe, not that I wasn’t interested in sleeping with you again.”

“Yeah, well that’s off the table Jeon. This isn’t real.”

He just wagged his eyebrows at you seductively, but you laughed and moved on from it, reviewing the list you wrote out.

You made sure to underline number seven so he could see it easily. 

“And when does this end?” You asked.

“Um, I don’t know. I guess we just play it by ear. Let it be natural. Obviously not too early or too late, and it should be mutual. I mean, if Somin learns her lesson, we would obviously have to end things, but I don’t see that happening sooner than a month.”

“Okay,” you tilt your head, thoughtfully, “So we can re-examine this in like a month then.”

“So is this like a contract or what?” he jokes. “Want me to sign it?”

“Sure,” you say, playing along and offering him the stylus. He took it from your hand and signed his signature, and then handed you back the pen, gesturing for you to sign as well. You followed suit, a quiet chuckle as you saved the page to your tablet’s files.

“Wanna drive me home, boyfriend?”

—

Dating Jungkook was… interesting, to say the least. You were a little surprised when he texted you the next morning asking what your coffee order was, and you weren’t expecting him to be so punctual when he pulled up to your apartment. But as you and Yuna exited the apartment that morning, he was already parked at the curb, music a little too loud for the early morning transit, but you were thankful nonetheless. 

“Why are you taking us?” Yuna asked in her very blunt manner. She, of course, had heard of Jungkook, more so due to your falling out with Somin, but Jungkook took her question in stride.

“Because I’m dating your sister.” 

He handed you an iced caramel latte with a soft smile that you couldn’t help but return. Jungkook looked stunningly handsome, hair floofed to your desired preference and an all black outfit to match. His pants were the perfect fit to his well-toned body and the black bomber jacket gave him a bad boy edge that was softened by his doe eyes.

Yuna coughed, choking on her strawberry flavored poptart as you turned to look out the window. Yuna, seated behind you, hit the back of your seat.

“You’re dating him? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to be sure it was going to work out this time… He and his ex used to be on and off a lot and I didn’t want to tell you if they got back together.” You answer, mixing the truth into it.

“Ohhhh, I see. You a player Jeon? Gonna break my sister’s heart?” Yuna eyed him, pupils narrowed as they stared at him. 

He cleared his throat, not expecting to have to defend himself against the small pitbull in the backseat.

“Not planning on it, Yuna.” Jungkook reached over and took your hand into his large one, interlocking your fingers before he kissed the back of your hand sweetly as he released the brakes and pulled off. 

Walking into the BigHit building, Jungkook held the door open for you before placing his hand in the back pocket of your black skinny jeans as you walked to the elevator. You wore a black knit sweater that fell slightly off the shoulder, and you knew it looked like you two had coordinated outfits. His other hand held the strap of the backpack he had slung over his shoulder while you clutched your coffee and your bag. 

You started to walk off towards your office once you made it to your floor, but Jungkook’s hand on your ass pulled you back towards him. He leaned down to your ear, whispering quietly.

“Where are you off too in such a hurry?”

“Um, my office… why?”

“Come with me to mine first, let me drop off my bag and I'll walk you back.”

“Oh-kay?” 

Letting his pocketed hand guide you, you fell in step with him down the hallway. You passed several other people, including Jin, an actor signed to the company who was known for his gossip, who nodded their hellos to Jungkook before ducking their heads together or reaching for their phones. It felt like high school all over again. Jungkook removed his hand from the warmth of your ass in order to open his office door, to which he then pulled you inside. Closing the door, he backed you into it rather loudly. The windows in the door are frosted, but you knew that pressed to it like this, anyone who looked could see your outline against it. 

Jungkook pushed his body into yours, lips following suit as his hands found purchase on your hips. He kissed you languidly, the mint from his toothpaste clashed with your coffee, though not unpleasant. You kissed him back, enjoying the feel of his soft pout as it glided to your neck. He wasted no time in latching on, suckling your neck for a few seconds before he pulled away with a loud smacking noise. 

“I must say, we put on quite the show this morning. My roommate was out there, and he will definitely have everyone talking about our PDA.” He grinned, eyes still glued to your neck. “Once that hickey sets in, it will really be the talk of the town.”

You blinked, finally coming back to your senses. Of course. This was all a part of the plan. Jungkook stepped away from you, moving to put away his belongings in his office. You stepped away from the door, looking around as you willed your body to cool down. That kiss had been quite an experience, and you yourself had gotten carried away with the plan. 

Turning on the spot, you notice all the different camera equipment lining the walls, the beautiful still photography of various buildings throughout the city, but the most surprising was a photo from the first year you had all met. The picture had you, Jungkook, Somin, Jimin, and a few other friends in it; smiles wide as you stood at the fairgrounds you attended, ferris wheel lighting up the sky behind you. You walked towards it, taking in how carefree you looked, arms wrapped around Jungkook’s waist and his arms thrown over your and Somin’s shoulders, who was making the peace sign with both hands at her eyes. Jimin was making a silly face, arm wrapped around Somin’s waist. Simpler times.

You moved on, turning to the small polaroid camera and you couldn’t help but grab it. Turning, you snapped a photo of Jungkook, who was caught off guard. You took the developing film from the camera and set it down on his desk as he smiled at you.

“Hmm, that’s a good idea. Let me take a few photos of you, I can place them around my office.”

You tried to reject his idea, but he takes the photos anyways, pinching your cheeks and tickling you until he gets what he wants. Finally, 6 clicks later, he stood next to you, facing the camera to the two of you before he said your name softly. You looked up at him, and he surprised you with a kiss. That 7th click captured a kiss, and he placed that one in the back of his phone case.

“You are such a… a lover, Jeon.” You say, pointing at his phone. He shrugged, ignoring your jab.

“It’s something Somin always wanted me to do… I never did though. So seeing this will piss her off.”

You nodded, understanding. Everything he did had a purpose for getting at Somin in some way, shape, or form. You chided yourself that you would do well to remember that. 

—

Lunch was a whole new ball game. Used to sitting with Namjoon and Jennie, or some of your assistants, you were now eating lunch with Jungkook, who ate in the employee cafeteria. You followed his request to meet him there and stood in the doorway lost until you heard his voice call out to you.

Noting his waving hand, you wove through the circular tables until you reached the one he was at with Jimin, Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi, a producer friend that you knew through Namjoon.

All of the seats were taken, but before you could stand there looking out of place, Jungkook scooted his chair out and all but pulled you onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he nuzzled into your neck, breathing in your clean scented perfume and strawberry shampoo.

“Get a room, JK.” Yoongi said, face contorted with a mock look of disgust.

“What? She’s just so cute and warm.” His fingers drifted towards the hem of your sweater and disappeared up into the material, cold fingers pressed against the soft skin of your belly and you shivered with a giggle, pushing his ice box hands away.

“You’re cold as fuck, Jesus Jeon! Were you hanging out in a freezer?”

“You could say that...” Taehyung laughed while elbowing Jimin, and you raised an eyebrow at them, wanting in on the joke, too.

“He was reviewing pictures with us and our managers.” Jimin clarified, and you nodded. 

“I take it that Somin wasn’t very warm?” You asked, leaning more into Jungkook.

“Not at all,” Tae disclosed, “she was very icy, had a lot to say about our dear JK over here, didn’t she?”

“Nothing we haven't heard before.” Jimin answered, and the two laughed, but you didn’t find it all that funny. Hearing that Somin trash talked Jungkook to his friends while working didn’t sound like the kind of person anyone would want to date. 

“Well she can talk shit all she wants, she’s just mad he’s moved on.” You defended, and are surprised to hear a quiet ‘thank you’ just for your ears as Jungkook tightened his hold briefly.

“I really dislike that girl,” Jin said, “I for one will be glad to not see her trashy ass around the apartment anymore. You are a breath of fresh air, Y/N.”

You smile shyly at Jin, enjoying how well everyone seemed to have welcomed you into their group.

“So, Y/N, we were just talking about the party Yoongi was throwing. He and Hobi live together, and they’re throwing a small rager this weekend. You’re coming with JK, right?”

Oh, this was not something you were expecting. You hadn’t gone to a party with co-workers in a long time…

“Um—”

“Of course she’ll be there, she’s coming with me. Right, babe?” Jungkook’s doe eyes looked up at you and you couldn’t say no. It’s not like you had plans anyways. You nodded and smiled at him, and he leaned into you, lips seeking yours in a quick kiss. You feel your body react to it, like it had been doing since this started, and pulled back before he could turn it X-rated. 

“Okay, seriously you two, get a room.”

—

Standing in the mirror in your bedroom, you turned from side to side to take in your outfit. As a head wardrobe stylist, you had a pretty good sense of fashion, but liked to stick to basic pieces and blacks, dressing up your look with delicate jewelry or layered pieces. 

Tonight was no different. With the beginnings of winter creeping in, you wanted to be comfortable in the weather once the sun set. You had on black sheer leggings that disappeared into a cute black skirt with thin white lines that had a revealing thigh split. Your top was an asymmetrical design, having one long sleeve and turning into a bandeau style on the other side. You paired it with black velvet boots that had crisp white laces, then finished the look with a matching set of simple dangling skinny diamond earrings, bracelet, and necklace. 

Despite this thing with Jungkook being fake, you wanted him to still feel proud to showcase you on his arm at this party. People were already talking about the two of you, and tonight would fuel the gossip even more. You were nervous of course, knowing who typically attended these types of parties, but Jungkook had assured you that he would keep you safe tonight.

The polite knock on your bedroom door had you turn your head to the sound, a tossed “come in” over your shoulder to who you thought was Yuna, but revealed a very handsome looking Jungkook, who was in his typical all black attire. You stood there, body warming as you took in his height, broad shoulders, and long legs. 

“Wow.” 

His voice was low, but his eyes looked like they sparkled as he took you in. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Jeon,” you responded, reaching to grab your bag off of your bed.

Jungkook snapped out of the daze he was in and pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

“Let’s take a photo for the ‘gram.”

You nodded; for a second you thought he wanted to have a photo of you because you looked good. Posing in the mirror, he pulled you close by your waist and adjusted his phone to capture both of you in the frame. He took a few photos, switching poses slightly each time.

“Hey,” he said, gaining your attention. You turned to him, shocked when his lips met yours. You melt easily into the kiss, hearing the camera shutter click several times as you tangled tongues, his hand sliding from your waist to cup your butt and pull you closer. You were unable to stop the moan from his action, and when he pulled away, lips a bit fuller and pinker from kissing, he quirked his eyebrow at you, paired with his signature smirk.

“Y-You messed up my lip gloss,” you fake huffed, turning away from him to rummage through your bag to grab your gloss and reapply. Your attempt to avoid him from seeing the way he affected you didn’t go unnoticed, but Jungkook kept quiet on it.

“It was worth it, these pics are hot. Plus, you taste good. What flavor is that?”

“Strawberry,” you mumbled, still feeling the heat from the kiss warm your neck and face.

“Strawberry is slowly becoming my new favorite.”

—

Yoongi and Hobi knew how to throw a party. The music was playing at the perfect level that you could still hear people talking to you, a variety of alcoholic beverages were supplied in ample amounts, and several games were being held in various rooms of their home. 

Currently, you were seated on the couch with a few other women from the office. Unfortunately, one of them was Somin. Across the room, your ‘boyfriend’ was engaged in a game of beer pong against Taehyung and Jimin. They had challenged him solo, citing he was good at everything and didn’t need a partner. As you watched him toss the small ping pong balls into the same cup, you knew their concern was right. 

“Y/N, you and Jeon?” Seline, one of the girls seated next to you, asked suggestively.

“Yea,” you giggled, the cup of something or other making you a little... giggly.

“Color me a little surprised. He’s like, such a social butterfly, and you’re...” 

“Oh, Y/N used to be a social butterfly, but she thought she was too good for us back in college.” Somin piped up. 

Her statement caught you off guard. Somin was once your best friend, but when she started dating Jungkook, she had distanced herself from you, not the other way around. 

“I never thought that. Some people act differently once they start dating people though. I never changed.” You sat back with a huff, crossing your arms. She ruined the buzz the alcohol had given you. 

Seline leaned closer to you, interested to hear more. The other’s seated nearby also tuned in with interest.

“Oh, you knew them in college?” 

You nodded, and Somin got up and walked away from the couch, seemingly annoyed at the attention you were getting for being Jungkook’s new girl.

You told the brief backstory of your friendship, leaving out the obvious part of losing virginities and finding out your best friend confessed to Jungkook when you were on your way to do the same thing, but ending it on good terms, saying that it was just the process of naturally growing apart. 

Seline nodded, and you saw her eyes widen as she looked past you. Following her gaze, your eyes narrowed at the view. Somin was all over Jungkook. You weren’t exaggerating; both of her hands were holding on to him as if she was too drunk to maintain her balance. She was falling into his arms and he was holding her, one of his large hands pushing her hair back from her face and a look of concern etched upon his own. 

Two feelings hit you at once. Nausea at the sight of him looking so tenderly at her, simultaneous with a boiling fury of jealousy that it wasn’t you. 

“Looks like Somin wants him back.” Seline snickered towards the other girls, and you stood up abruptly. You made eye contact with Jimin, who’s eyes were unnaturally large as he registered the scene before him.

Jimin was relieved that Somin interrupted the end of the game so that he could escape before he had to drink more, but he also felt annoyed seeing her all over Jungkook. Jimin had been glad when Jungkook told him and Tae that he was done with Somin; even more glad when he heard that Jungkook started seeing you. 

Back in college, Jimin was the only person, other than you and Jungkook, who knew what happened between you two. Both of you had confided in him your actions and feelings for one another. Color him surprised when he found out that Jungkook was not dating you, but instead your best friend, Somin. He wasn’t sure what happened but soon after, you stopped being around as much and Somin was around all the time. 

Watching Somin pretend to be too drunk to function and fall all over Jungkook made Jimin purposefully search the room for you. Watching you stand, drink clutched in your hand, Jimin had a feeling something was about to happen.

The drink you were nursing was downed in its entirety within a single swallow. You were now several drinks in, and you were feeling the alcohol start to hit as you stood up fast. Pushing your shoulders back, you walked over towards your ‘boyfriend’, whose back was turned towards you, and slid your arm around his waist.

“Heyyy babe,” you leaned into his body, staking claim on Jungkook as you stared daggers at Somin. She had taken a few steps back when you had approached, but now, seeing the challenge in your eyes, she stepped closer once more.

“Ggukk-ah, I don’t feel so well...”

“Min,” Jungkook stepped out of your hold, hands moving to cup Somin’s face as she feigned weakness in her knees. The level of concern in his voice let you know exactly how he felt. You scoffed, not believing Jungkook would behave this way in front of everyone. He was the one who had came up with this idea for ‘mutual benefit’ and here he was fucking it all up.

“She’s fine, babe. She can handle her alcohol.” You felt yourself growing hotter, the alcohol actually having an effect on you, as it always had. Your increasing body temperature only made you more frustrated.

“Seriously Gguk, I’m getting so hot...” Somin reached for the hem of her shirt, and in one fell swoop she had exposed the lacey bra she wore underneath. You could hear people talking over the sound of the music, taking in the scene of a shirtless ex making a brazen show.

“Jungkook!” Your voice is no more than a harsh whisper, but he’s so scandalized at Somin’s action, the protective boyfriend in him coming out to aid in shielding her body from onlookers, he doesn’t hear you. 

You hate the sick feeling bubbling in your stomach, unsure if it's from watching your ‘man’ flirt with his half naked ex or if it’s from the alcohol not sitting right with you.

Throwing the scene one last look, you turned on your heels and headed off to the kitchen for a bottle of water, or perhaps, another cup of something stronger.

Walking past him and Taehyung, Jimin caught sight of the look on your face before you blew past on your way towards the kitchen and he knew he should warn his friend.

“Jungkook, hey.. Jungkook!” Jimin yelled, his voice louder the second time he called his name. 

Jungkook had been leaning towards Somin, hands cradling her face as he continued to speak quietly to her. When he looked up at Jimin, his face appeared slightly annoyed at the interruption as he was taking care of her.

“What, bro?”

“Um, your girlfriend? Y/N? She just went into the kitchen and she looked a little upset.” Jimin said, his face trying to communicate to Jungkook what it looked like that he was holding his ex that way and his new girlfriend had stormed off. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Jimin, can you?” Jungkook gestured his head towards the kitchen and Jimin thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

“How about I take Somin and you go find Y/N? Your girlfriend. Remember?”

Jungkook paused for a millisecond before depositing Somin into Jimin’s arms. He made his way to the kitchen, where he found you engaged in taking shots with Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jin, the latter of which was shit talking Somin with a smile. When you felt his presence enter the kitchen, you ignored him, gesturing for your now fourth shot in as many minutes.

Sensing the tension, Yoongi decided against more shots, instead leading Hobi and Jin out of the kitchen, much to Jin’s complaints of having to be around the ‘trashy tramp’. The three headed back to the party, a bottle tucked under Yoongi’s arm as Hobi carried the shot glasses out. 

“We were enjoying our new friend, JK. Stop keeping her to yourself,” Jin said with a drunken glare. 

Sighing audibly, you turned to walk out of the kitchen but Jungkook’s grasp on your wrist stopped you.

“Hey, why are you ignoring me like this?” He asked, confusion tinting his voice.

“Um, maybe because you’re supposed to be dating me and you were too busy with Somin to remember you even had a girlfriend.” You said back harshly, spitting the words at him with such vehemence you wobbled precariously on your heels.

“Come here.” Jungkook said, dragging you behind him through the bodies in the hallway until you had made it into one of the unoccupied back bedrooms. Shutting the door, he turned to you as he dragged his hand through his hair. The action only made him more handsome, tousled hair falling gently to frame his face.

“Look, it’s... complicated with Somin right now.”

“I get that you’re trying to teach her a lesson, see if you want to be with her or whatever, but not at my expense. You said mutually beneficial. Making me look like your second choice and embarrassing me does not benefit me.”

During your speech, you poked him in the chest several times, the alcohol starting to take its effect on you. Stumbling slightly, Jungkook caught you to steady you, keeping his hands on your waist. The warmness of his palms felt nice as he helped keep you balanced.

“You’re right, Y/N. I’m sorry. Like I said, it’s complicated. We dated for a long time. I still care for her. She’s... been making this difficult.”

“Oh? Difficult how? By faking being drunk so you can take care of her?”

“She’s a lightweight, that’s not fake,” he defended.

You were once close enough with Somin to know that she was not a lightweight, since she had been drinking at parties since she was 14; her earlier interaction was indeed, all an act.

“Whatever, Jungkook. So what is she doing that’s so difficult?” you asked, cutting him a look of narrowed eyes until he answered you.

He walked backwards, tugging you gently along until he was seated on the bed. You stood between his parted knees, waiting patiently for his answer. Realizing you weren’t going to drop it, he rubbed the back of his neck gingerly.

“She’s, you know.. She still texts me all the time, saying shit and sending pics and stuff. She says she wants me back, but I just,” he looked up at you, his doe eyes unable to hide his emotions.

“I don’t know if I believe it. I want to. But she’s hurt me, and I’m tired of it. I want her to feel how I felt.”

Your ire towards him faded as he opened up to you. Cupping his face gently, you leaned in and rubbed his nose with yours softly back and forth.

“You’re amazing Jungkook. Until tonight, you’ve treated me like a princess the entire week we’ve been dating. But she won’t learn if you give in. You’ve got me now, okay? When she texts you, text me instead. Don’t entertain her. She’ll think I’m not enough for you if you keep responding, and that doesn’t show her you can move on.”

You had sunk into him the whole time you talked to him, and he shifted your body so you were now straddled over his lap, head resting on his shoulder. You yawned sleepily, the loss of the anger leaving you feeling the tired effects of the alcohol. Unlike Somin, you were a lightweight, and 3 shots was over your limit.

As you got comfortable on Jungkook, he thought over what you said, smoothing your hair carefully.

“You’re right. You always were so smart in school... ” Jungkook said, and you nodded your head on his shoulder in agreement, humming an affirmative.

“Let’s get you home though, you’re halfway to passing out anyways.” Pulling out his phone, he ordered an Uber. He held you like that, your strawberry scent surrounding him until the Uber driver was outside. His hands gripping you under your thighs, he stood up and carried you out of the party, nodding bye to his friends and hosts of the party.

Placing you into the Uber, he climbed in after you and you curled into his lap, seeking his warmth in your drunken half-slumber. Jungkook chuckled, noticing the way his chest reacted to the action but ignored it. This was an arrangement, you seeking him out wasn’t real, and your anger earlier wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. You were worried about being embarrassed. He still loved and wanted to get back with Somin, right? 

As he looked down at you in his lap, enjoying the weight of you pressed against his body, he wasn’t so sure. 

“This the correct address, sir?” The Uber driver asked, verifying with Jungkook once he shut the SUV door.

“Yea, both of us are headed there.”

—

The weekend passed by fast. Waking up at Jungkook’s place Sunday morning had been a little shocking, but his bed was soft and clean, and smelled of him. You had snuggled deeper into the sheets until he woke you up to go get breakfast and get his car from Yoongi’s place. He detailed to you what had transpired to you being in his bed, expressed that he had not taken advantage of you, per rule number 7, plus the basic concept of consent, and promised to take you home as soon as Jin was awake and could take the two of you to go get his car. 

He gave you some clothes to change into, and while you weren’t surprised to find he had jeans to fit you, neither one of you asked or shared the obvious: they were Somin’s. At least the shirt he gave you was his, and you also stole a hoodie to wear. December may have only just started a week ago, but the cold was pervasive.

Breakfast with him was fun. Getting to know Jungkook again was just as exhilarating as it had been the first time, during that first year at BHSMA. He had changed, but in a good way. More mature, but still playful. An adult who was a hotshot photographer, but still humble and considerate. How someone could be built like that and have such a big soft heart was beyond you. 

The trip to get his car was slightly awkward, as Jin, Jungkook’s very nosy roommate, commented on how bad drunk sex must be with Jungkook if you were able to keep so quiet. 

“Somin was always so loud, I swear she was exaggerating. No one’s dick is that good; sorry JK.”

Once Jin dropped the two of you off at Yoongi and Hobi’s, it ended up turning into hanging out with them for a bit, talking about work and your relationship with Jungkook. Hobi swooned with oohs and ahhs while Yoongi cringed, faking disgust at such a cute story, as was his trademark. 

Jungkook apologized once the two of you escaped to his car, for both Jin being cringey, and for staying longer than anticipated with Yoongi and Hoseok, but you weren’t mad. You enjoyed meeting his friends and getting to know them. You were only a little concerned because Yoongi was also friends with Namjoon, who worked in the same department as him.

Jungkook turned to you before you climbed out of the car, not wanting to say goodbye just yet, but unable to think of a reason to get you to stay. Afterall, the relationship was fake. 

“Hey, thanks for your advice last night.”

“Honestly, I barely remember what it was, but if it helped you, I’m glad.” You smiled at him, and he had to blink a few times to remember what else he wanted to say.

“So, um—I was thinking we could go on, like, a formal date Monday? After work? Monday should be a chill day. I know the comeback is planned for January, so going out sooner than later is best, right? Get it out of the way? That way we won’t forget, and we won’t be too busy with work to try and squeeze it in, and—” 

Jungkook knew he was rambling, feeling nervous despite it being you, someone he had known for several years now. For fucks sake, he’s seen you naked. He felt his cock twitch and internally scolded himself. This was not the time for remembering the way you felt beneath him, the sweet sounds he had pulled from you as he learned your body, shared with you in giving each other your virginities. 

When his cock twitched again, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on your answer.

“You okay, Jeon?” you asked, noticing he had zoned out slightly.

“Yeah... ” he responded, shifting as if uncomfortable.

“Well, I said I would love to go on a date with you. What did you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise. Just dress for the weather.”

You nodded thoughtfully, a small smile gracing your face as you gathered your purse and stepped back out of the doorway of his car to shut it. He rolled the window down, smiling back at you.

“Can’t wait,” you say, standing outside his car on the sidewalk through the rolled down window, waving your fingers at him cutely.

Jungkook’s signature smile spread across his face as he winked at you just before he pulled off, turning his music up loud as he whipped his Benz out of your complex. 

—

Now sitting at your desk, you clicked through the selected shots that Jungkook emailed you of the photo shoot from last week as you reminisced on the weekend. You were supposed to be checking the outfits, detailing the different designers for the credits. But your thoughts kept drifting to Jungkook, and what should have easily been a 15 minute task took 45. 

Finally sending the email, you stood to stretch when a loud knock announced a visitor. Walking to the frosted door of your office, you opened it and revealed a large bouquet of tiger lilies. 

“Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N,” Kim, one of your assistants sing-songed as she walked into the room.

“Where did you get this? And why?” You searched the flowers until you found the card inside.

“I’m not supposed to give any details other than to read the note!” She pranced away, a smug smile on her face for knowing the secret you wanted to know.

Opening the envelope, a small polaroid fell out, fluttering to the ground. You picked it up, noting the image of a small park nearby. At the bottom, in Jungkook’s neat writing was a time. 2:30PM. Glancing at the clock, you see that the time listed is in roughly 15 minutes, so you gathered your purse, plucked a flower from the bouquet and headed out to meet Jungkook.

Walking into the elevator, Namjoon suddenly entered just before the doors shut, trapping you inside with him.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asked. You studied him, momentarily at a loss for words at his ambush.

“Joonie, I—I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been busy...”

“Too busy for your best friend? Jennie left me, and now I feel like I’m losing you too.”

Hearing his voice crack as he mentioned his ex hurts you more than you let him know. In all of the panic of the secret sex journal being released and fake dating Jungkook, you had forgotten what Namjoon had been going through.

“I promise, you’re not losing me, Joonie. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry that I haven’t been acting like it. I swear, I have been busy.”

“Yeah, busy going to parties with your new boyfriend. I saw him carrying your wasted ass out of Yoongi’s house.” Namjoon sounded a little irritated as he spoke.

“Listen, it’s complicated.. Can we talk about this later, please? It’s not a conversation for the elevator.”

“Okay, where are you going? I’ll go with you.” The doors opened and you both stepped out, Namjoon following you like a lifeline.

“Joonie, I—Look, I’m going on a date with Jungkook, I’m sorry!” you halted your steps and explained to him as a look of hurt flashed across his face.

“You know what? Forget it. Hit me up when you remember your best friend, if I’m even that.”

Namjoon walked away from you, ignoring you as you called after him. You sighed, giving up as he disappeared around a corner of the lobby, guests and coworkers looking at the exchange with interest.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath before braving the cold to walk to Ttukseom Park.

The walk was surprisingly pleasant. Despite the temperature, the sun was warm on your face whenever you were able to evade the shade along the sidewalk. It may have been the very beginnings of winter, but the scenery was anything but the cold melancholy you tended to associate with this time of the year.

The grass was vibrant still, and as you made it to the spot that matched the small photo you still had clutched in your hand, you noticed how the butterfly art installation along the wall of the J-Bug Cultural Complex glittered in the sunlight seeping in. Jungkook was seated on a bench right underneath the art with his trusty camera hanging from his neck, a picnic basket next to him.

“This is beautiful,” you said in awe, taking in the entire view. Jungkook followed your gaze, humming his agreement before picking up his camera. You heard the shutter of the camera several times. You looked over to him glancing at the small screen on the device before adjusting the lens and taking several more. 

“Have you never seen this?” He said as he stood and grabbed the basket. You stood as well and followed him, falling into step beside him as he walked out from the shade and into the grassier area.

You shook your head no. “Don’t really have the time I guess. I’ve always wanted to explore the J-Bug though; Namjoon said the museums all along the Hangang are amazing.”

“I’ve taken photos at several of the murals nearby, they’re some of my favorite locations actually.” He smiled at you, and you can’t help the way your heart squeezes. He nodded his head to an area that had a decent amount of sunlight to combat the winter chill.

“Yea, I remember seeing some of them in your office. You’re really talented Kookie, I remember how passionate you were about photography even back then.” You helped spread the blanket he produced from the basket and once seated you leaned back on your palms, eyes closed. 

Jungkook looked at you, taking in the way the midday sun made you glow, how pretty your lashes looked leaving shadows across your content cheeks. He couldn’t hold back the smile that took over his face upon hearing you use the endearment he hadn’t heard since that night so long ago.

“Ah, yeah, but my photography wasn’t that good then.”

“Stop being so humble, the photos you took were amazing, even then.”

You opened your eyes, catching him staring at you, and you felt yourself grow self-conscious.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“Oh—uh, no sorry, it was just the sun—you know, lighting and all.” He gestured to his camera.

“Ah, I guess the talented eye never rests. Though I don’t know why you would want pictures of me,” you laughed and Jungkook tapped your knee in reproach.

“You’re a pretty good subject, don’t downplay yourself.”

You nodded, looking in the basket to hide the way your cheeks had warmed at his comment.

“Seriously, Y/N, I used to want to take photos of you all the time back then... you should’ve seen my camera roll. It was embarrassing. Jimin used to tease me all the time.” Jungkook helped you set up his small spread of food and you used the meal as a distraction.

“Ooh, did you prepare all of this?”

“Ah, some of it,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I had some help from Jin hyung.”

“It smells delicious.” You took the proffered chopsticks from his large hand and dug into the bowl of japchae before placing it on your rice to gather for one bite; Jungkook followed suit.

The rest of the lunch date went incredibly well. Jungkook was just like you remembered him to be, except he was more filled out, and a little taller with a jawline that could cut glass. But his humor, his compassion, his deep thoughts that led you to fall for him all those years ago were still painfully there. Spending more time with him one on one did nothing but show you that the feelings you once had for him were still easily accessible. 

As he led you back to the office, his hand swinging yours between your bodies, you couldn’t help but wish this was real. How nice it would be to just pretend that Jungkook really was yours, allow those creeping feelings to spread like spring, blooming across your chest until it was vibrant and unforgettable. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like after; after when you were single again and Jungkook had either gotten back with Somin or moved on to someone else.

“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook squeezed your hand. You hadn’t even noticed that you were not only back at the office, but standing at the door to your locked office.

“Oh, sorry. Honestly, that lunch date was just so nice… It felt good to get out and do something different for a change.”

“Oh, well yea, I remembered you used to like stuff like this, I figured you probably still did.”

You nodded, hope blooming. 

“Take a look at this post, let me know if it’s okay.”

He handed you his phone, and you admired the way he had caught you off guard, a photo that looked like it could be moving, the way your hair frames your face as you looked longingly off into the distance. The caption was simple. “It’s not about where you go or what you have, it’s about who you’re with along the way.” 

“It’s perfect.”

“Okay, post it then. And post a few more pics of me on your page too? I’ve been posting and tagging you...”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that Jungkook sounded… upset? You nodded as you clicked the post button, and as it loaded, the phone vibrated in your hand. Thinking it was a like or a comment on the image of you, you glanced at it. His phone had locked by this time, and instead of seeing notifications for Instagram, you saw a message notification instead. 

Handing him back his phone, you push down that blooming sensation. It would be foolish to think Jungkook was upset that you hadn’t posted him as much as he had posted you. Clearly he must’ve spent time with Somin after he dropped you off yesterday. 

“You got a message. Umm, I’m gonna finish up here and then head home, you don’t need to wait for me. See you tomorrow?”

You wanted to get away from him desperately. Jungkook looked at you, confused at your sudden shift in mood.

“I thought I was driving you home? Jin said he was staying out late tonight, I figured we could hang out for a few—”

“We’ll see! There’s still so much to do for the album release.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek chastely before unlocking your office door and all but disappeared inside of it.

Jungkook stood there, staring at your closed door for a few more seconds before he felt his phone buzz in his hand. Checking his notifications, he saw a series of texts from Somin. 

Looking around confused, he noticed Somin standing across the office area, a deadly smirk on her face as she waved her phone at Jungkook. All Jungkook could do was sigh. Somin wouldn’t leave him alone long enough to sort out his thoughts, and now she was sending purposefully misleading texts? Jungkook didn’t know how to explain to you that what you saw was untrue.

You clearly believed it.

—

Jungkook gave you two days of space before he decided to track you down. He always hated that Somin would know he was upset (typically because it was her fault) and immediately pounce on him, forcing her company upon him and not allowing him the ability to forgive and move on. He wanted to give you that time, so after two days, Jungkook felt that it had been long enough, and the two of you should reconcile whatever misunderstanding there had been.

You posted a photo with him yesterday, and from the caption you wrote it appeared like you had a fun time with him on Monday despite the way you left him standing at your office door. 

The image you posted on your Instagram with Jungkook was a candid shot; he hadn’t realized you had taken a photo. While it brought about that warm feeling in his chest seeing the photo appear in his feed, it didn’t clearly depict his face. 

Instead, the focus was on your fingers intertwined. Jungkook’s profile could be seen, blurred from lack of focus, but it matched the caption you had chosen so well. “Even if someone shakes this world, please don’t ever let go of this hand you’re holding...”

Motivated, Jungkook made sure to be bright and early at your door ready to drive you and your sister. 

You weren’t expecting to see the flashy Benz outside of your apartment. Yuna was excited to not have to take public transportation, leaving you behind as she all but ran to the passenger rear door.

“Morning JK! We missed you these past few days.”

“Ah, sorry about that, I had to be at the office way earlier; didn’t want to make you guys wake up even earlier than you already do.”

Yuna waves off the apology and you finally followed; feet moving across the pavement until you’ve climbed into the car and buckled your seatbelt.

“Morning princess,” Jungkook says, leaning towards you and pecking your lips. You were caught off guard, not expecting him to be so lovey, but you returned the kiss, a double peck that you started and continued on as the traditional way you greeted each other.

“Morning.”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“Yea, been a bit out of it these past few days...” You trailed off, not wanting to talk about it in front of Yuna. Catching on, Jungkook turns up the music and shifts into drive, pulling off towards the University for Yuna.

The drive to the office isn’t too long from the school, so once Yuna was out, Jungkook wasted no time in asking you to talk.

“So, can we talk about Somin?”

You huffed out a sigh. It was too early in the morning to deal with the Somin issue, but you nodded, allowing Jungkook to breach the topic.

“I know you saw her message. I want you to know that nothing happened. She sent that text because she saw us. She was doing the same bullshit she always does, part of the reason I don’t think she’s learned anything yet, like you said.”

You nodded, still not sure what to believe. He had no reason to lie to you, it’s not like you were actually in a relationship. He could go back to Somin anytime. 

“I hate that you’re mad at me.”

You turned your body towards him. 

“I—Look, I’m not mad, okay? Not at you. I just hate that Somin gets under my skin so much. That she’s a bitch to you. Neither of us deserve it, especially you.”

Jungkook reached over, encasing your hand in his.

“I’m learning that now. We’ve been together so long, I never noticed at first what she was doing. But I think subconsciously, it was making me resent her. And you really said some shit that had me thinking. And you’re right. I—I’m really glad to have you back in my life, Y/N. Having you in my corner has made all the difference.”

You looked down, eyes staring at the tattooed hand to hide the warmth on your face. 

“After work, come over. Let me buy us dinner and we can hang out.” You felt his smile as he stared at you while pausing at the red light before your office, and you met his gaze.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to make Jin believe we’re having hot, loud sex, since rule 7 prevents you from experiencing the real thing.”

He let out a shout of pain as you punched his shoulder.

—

Walking to get food was not the smartest idea for 3 reasons. First, because neither of you checked the weather. Second, due to number one, neither of you had an umbrella. So naturally, third, running in the rain while carrying takeout was almost a disaster.

And still, the two of you laughed the entire way, bag clutched in one arm while your fingers were intertwined between your sprinting bodies, one block left to get to Jungkook’s apartment. By the time he’s unlocked the door, you're both sopping wet, rain water dripping onto the floor of the entryway to the apartment. After getting the food situated to stay warm while you guys got cleaned up, Jungkook gave you a towel and led you to his bathroom.

You appreciated that he was such a clean guy, his apartment and subsequently, the bathroom was pristine, and he actually had a trashcan and stocked toilet paper, unlike some men you knew. He planted folded clothes for you to change into on top of the sink counter, and surprised you with a kiss.

“What was that for?” You asked, dazed.

“Practice.” He said with a wink, and he backed away, closing the door as he left you alone. 

—

While Jungkook showered, you heated up the food, your mostly dried hair now up in a messy bun as you danced around his kitchen. His sweats were a little (a lot) too long, so you had rolled them up so you could avoid tripping. 

A knock at the door made you jump, before you moonwalked over to the entryway, now clean of the rain water the two of you had trudged in. Thinking it was Jin, you didn’t check to see who it was and opened the door. You froze as you took in a young man that was not your ‘boyfriend’s’ broad shouldered roommate. Instead, doe-eyes similar to the man currently naked in the shower stared back at you.

“Oh, hey… I thought my brother lived here. Sorry about that!” The man stepped back, checking the number on the apartment again before his eyes landed on your shirt—or rather, his brother’s shirt.

“You’re not Somin...”

“Hi, and no, I’m not,” you laughed, “um, but this is Jungkook’s apartment.”

“Ahh, okay. I’m JungHyun. His older brother.”

“Oh! Come in!” You stepped back so that he could walk past you, and you led him into the living room once he had shed his shoes. 

“Oh, did I interrupt dinner?”

“Oh, no we haven’t even started eating yet. No worries.”

The two of you sat down, and you tucked your feet up under your bottom, turning to face Jungkook’s older brother.

“So, I know who you’re not...”

“Oh, fuck, manners.” The look on your face is sheepish, and you smiled to cover your nerves. “I’m Y/N, Kookie’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, you’re the famous Y/N! Finally got you, did he?”

His words confused you, Jungkook had been with Somin since forever, when had he ever wanted you? Smiling to cover your confusion, you’re saved when Jungkook appears in the hallway, a loud laugh as he barreled over to his brother and all but jumped on the man.

“Hyung! What are you doing here?!”

“Oh, I finished that project at work early, so I’m headed to visit mom and dad. Staying with them through Christmas before the next contract at work starts.”

“Ah, it’s good to see you!”

Jungkook’s enthusiasm is abundant; it’s clear he loves his brother dearly and misses him. He pulled back from a hug and sat comfortably in the space between you and JungHyun, his palm resting lightly on your leg absentmindedly.

“So, I’ve met your new girlfriend. I must say you didn’t do her justice when you described her to me.”

You felt the blush creep across your face, and Jungkook also seemed to turn red, his fingers rubbing at the skin on his neck.

“Yea, seeing her in person is best.” He says awkwardly, and you can’t help but laugh.

“So? Does dad know? Mom is gonna be so excited. She hated Somin.”

“What?” Jungkook says at the same time that you say “Really?”

JungHyun nodded, sitting back into the couch comfortably.

“Yea, no offense, lil bro, but Somin was a bitch. Mom thought she was so fake.”

“Wh-why didn’t you guys ever say anything?”

“Eh, you know, cause you were in love or whatever.”

You get up and go to the kitchen, grabbing bowls and the last of the heated food, hoping to avoid being present for this part of their conversation, but still curious all the same.

“Definitely not.”

“Mmhmm, sure.”

“Seriously. I wasn’t actually in love. Or if I was, it faded. I think for a lot of it I was just… dependent or whatever. I thought it was love, sure. But it wasn’t; I know that now.”

“Ah, so Y/N showed you what love is?”

“She definitely cares more about me and my happiness than Somin ever has.”

You cleared your throat as you walked back into the living room.

“Ready to eat?”

Dinner with Jungkook and JungHyun is, in so many words, fun. They bantered and joked and you spend the time eating and laughing, enjoying your time with the brothers. You didn't even realize how late it had gotten, not until Jin waltzed into the apartment, noting the late hour for you all to be chatting so loud. 

“Shit, Yuna messaged me an hour ago.” 

“Just stay here. We can pick Yuna up in the morning when you go home to change.”

“Are you sure? Your brother’s visiting, I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Y/N, don’t worry, I’ll take the couch. I was going to anyway.” JungHyun smiled at you, and you nodded back. Standing up, you stretched, not realizing how tired you were. Jungkook took the opportunity to tickle your exposed sides, and you squealed, causing the brothers to laugh as you squirmed away from Jungkook, who didn’t let you get far.

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

Turning in Jungkook’s arms, you looked over his shoulder at his brother.

“Good night, oppa.”

Jungkook stiffened as JungHyun and Jin laughed, enjoying the way the youngest one reacted to your words.

“Ah, if it doesn’t work out between you two, hit me up.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook glared at his brother, not enjoying the joke.

“What? At least she wouldn’t need to meet our parents twice! She is coming for Christmas, right?”

The two of you looked at each other, a little thrown off by the question. The holidays were coming up, but you hadn’t discussed this far into the relationship. It wasn’t real after all, did you have to go through such lengths to teach Somin a lesson?

“I haven’t told mom and dad yet about her...”

“No worries, I text them ages ago. They’re expecting her for Christmas.”

Jungkook sighed, dropping his forehead to yours, so all you could see was his eyes staring into yours.

“Is this okay? Do you wanna, you know? Meet my parents?” Jungkook’s voice was low as he whispered the question.

“I—Yes.”

The look on his face when you agreed was beautiful, a scrunched-nose smile that is reminiscent of a bunny. You couldn’t help but smile back, lost in the mahogany of his eyes.

“Are you guys over there kissing when I’m waiting for an answer?” JungHyun broke the tension filling the air between you and his brother.

Jungkook smirked before capturing your lips with his own, a breathless kiss that lasted only a couple seconds before he pulled away to smirk at his brother.

“You can tell mom and dad I’ll be bringing her home for Christmas.” With those words, Jungkook whisked you down the hall and tucked you into his bed before climbing in behind you. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you closer to him. His hands skimmed your body before he began tickling you again, a squeal leaving your mouth. You retaliated, hands attempting to tickle him before he pinned you to the bed, and the two of you began to wrestle for a bit. 

You were unaware of how sexual the wrestling sounded; his headboard hitting the wall roughly and the two of you grunting and groaning as you fought for dominance, some added squeals and moans when Jungkook decided it was a good idea to bite you in his quest for submission. Finally winded, you gave in, laying back on the mattress in defeat. Jungkook tugged at your sweatpants, removing them swiftly and throwing them onto the floor, his own joining the pile. He then grasped your face, peppering it with kisses.

You were about to ask him what he was doing, when someone knocked. Jungkook called out a ‘come in’ and his brother walked into the bedroom, his sights set on the bathroom.

“Don’t mind me, just gonna wash up before bed. It seemed safe to enter now.”

He disappeared into the bathroom as Jungkook continued to hold you, affectionate even after his brother was out of sight. Even if this relationship was fake, you could pretend in this moment that it was real, that Jungkook pulled you closer, not to fool his brother, but because he wanted to be close to you, that he was falling in love with you. 

For one night, it should be okay to pretend it was something more, right?

—

The next two weeks passed by in a blur. Namjoon had basically confined himself to his studio at work, intent on avoiding you. Seeing you hand in hand with Jungkook seemed to bother him, and because you couldn’t tell him the truth (or wouldn’t), you left him to his own assumptions. He ignored all of your texts attempting to reach out to him, despite him saying he wanted you to let him know when you had time for him. This just made you more frustrated, and you were done trying to chase Namjoon, romantically or otherwise. When he was ready to behave like an adult, you would be willing to talk to him. 

After telling Yuna about how you were asked to go home with Jungkook and meet his family, you received a call from your own parents. Yuna had told them about Jungkook, and you were bombarded with questions until you too agreed to bring Jungkook home.

It took some discussing, but it was finally decided: the 23rd and Christmas Eve would be with your family, and Christmas Day and the 26th would be with Jungkook’s. You were a little worried that the parents would be able to see through your ruse, despite having fooled everybody else at work, but Jungkook assured you that it would be easy enough to trick his parents. 

On the train ride to Daegu, you sat a few rows away from your sister, who had her headphones in as she watched the latest K-Drama she missed due to her busy school schedule. The ‘arriving soon’ message plays throughout the cabins of the KTX, and you figure it’s important to bring up your parents. 

Turning to Jungkook, who was drawing on his iPad, you removed an airpod from your ear, pausing the music. You take a moment and admire his face, the way his jawline was so angular, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the concentration held in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” Jungkook’s voice is teasing, but you still felt embarrassed at being caught staring at him.

“I just think we should talk about the next 2 days.”

“Y/N, listen. Parents love me. Despite the tattoos and long hair.”

“Cause you’ve met so many parents? You’ve been dating Somin since we were 20.”

“My friends have parents too, you know. Don’t worry. Just be like we always are and it’ll be fine.”

“Your parents may be easy to trick, but mine? They’re a bit more… scrutinizing. Plus, they’ve heard me talk about Namjoon, and probably don’t remember me talking about you...” you trailed off, a slight warmth subtly coloring your cheeks.

“So you used to talk about me?”

“Well, yea, first year, you know? I had a crush on you, so my mom heard all about it. Not about—you know, but I told her I thought we might date.” You buried your nose in your phone to avoid looking at Jungkook. 

“You know, you never told me why you nev—”

Jungkook’s words were cut off by an attendant walking through the aisle, asking everyone to start packing up their belongings as the train would be pulling into the DongDaegu Station momentarily.

“My dad should be here to pick us up—Yuna!” Your sister turned to you, a smile on her face as she waved her phone.

“Dad’s here!”

The drive to the house was short, and you spent most of the time taking turns with Yuna filling in your dad on your life in Seoul. Your mom was busy in the kitchen when you arrived, and she shooed you all upstairs to your rooms. Unsurprisingly, your parents were having you and Yuna share her room while Jungkook would be across the hall in your room. 

Your parents were more conservative, and while you were an adult and perfectly able to do as you pleased in Seoul, while under their roof, they wanted to make sure that you remained as pure as they could keep you. 

Dinner that first night went well. Jungook and your dad bonded over sports, despite Jungkook not playing any team sports, he was still well-versed on the topic and joined your dad in watching a basketball game while you, Yuna, and your mom cleaned up after dinner and then sat in the sewing room. 

Your mom asked you all about Jungkook, which she surprisingly did remember you talking about. It seemed you had her and your father fooled, but while you sat at her embroidery machine, she shared she was confused about the lack of presents you had for each other to open tomorrow night. Saying it was because you still had to wrap them and she would find them under the tree tomorrow was an easy enough excuse, and paired with a very real yawn, you excused yourself to get ready for bed.

Sleeping with Yuna was uncomfortable; she was a wild sleeper. Restlessness won over sleep, so you got out of bed and made your way downstairs to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. Your parents were already in bed in their first floor room on the other side of the house from the kitchen and the stairs.

When you returned back upstairs, you noticed the light on in your bedroom, so you knocked softly.

“Come in,” Jungkook’s voice was subdued, and you pushed the door open gently.

“Hey,” you said, eyeing Jungkook’s lean, topless form as he sat at the edge of the bed. You never tired of the view when you would sleep over at his place. 

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yea, Yuna isn’t the best person to sleep next to, flops around all night, hogs the sheets.”

You walk into the room, joining him on the bed. He’s swiping through images from the SeoulM8 shoots he’s recently done. You watched his finger move across the iPad leisurely.

“Ahh, sounds like you miss sleeping next to me.”

You scoffed, shoulder bumping into his.

“You snore a bit. And your body temperature runs pretty hot. I wake up sweating half the time.”

“Ah, not the first time I’ve made you sweat, love.”

You raise your eyebrow at his insinuation of your loss of virginity.

“Kidding, babe,” he jokes, locking his iPad and setting it down to charge on the bedside table.

“Can we go into town tomorrow? I want to do some last minute shopping.”

“Sure.” Jungkook yawned and you took that as your cue to leave so he could get some sleep after your journey across the country.

“Where ya going? I thought you couldn't fall asleep with Yuna?”

Jungkook pulled the covers back, making space for you to climb in in front of him.

“Well, yes, but my parents—”

“Sleep downstairs and wholly expect us to pretend to sleep apart but know that you’re going to sneak in here anyways because we’re madly in love.”

You had to cover your mouth to keep from laughing loudly.

“And how do you know that?”

Jungkook smirked, still waiting for you to get into bed.

“You’re dad told me. He also said we need to give him grandchildren, sooner rather than later.”

Stunned silent, Jungkook leaned forward and grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him. He turned off the light and you climbed in over him, keeping him at the front just in case. 

“C’mere,” he rolled over and pulled you to his chest, snuggling into you as he got comfortable. “We have to look madly in love. No funny business though. I know you think I’m irresistible, but we are in your parents house and must be respectful.”

You elbowed him in the rib, and settled into the comforting darkness of your childhood bedroom with Jungkook’s arm wound around your waist, holding you close. 

——

Christmas Eve, in your family, is the night that presents are opened. As a child, this tradition was done in order to make room under the tree for Santa’s presents. As adults, your parents keep the tradition alive, instead putting stockings with 1 or 2 of the more expensive gifts for you to have on Christmas morning. 

After shopping in town and spending time wrapping, you had finally placed a few gifts for Jungkook under the tree that Yuna was now passing out. You were surprised to see a couple gifts for you from Jungkook in the small pile you amassed, and when you caught his eye, he winked at you. 

Yuna opened her gifts first, then you and Jungkook, where you saw that he gave you a matching jewelry set: necklace and earrings in a soft rose gold, a small cherry blossom bloom dangling from the small hoop of the earrings and from a small hoop on the necklace. It reminded you of your date at the park. The two of you sat under the winter sakura tree that day, the only blossoms that bloom twice a year, where you told him how much you loved cherry blossoms in passing. 

“It’s beautiful, Jungkook.” You almost can’t believe it, but he just smiles softly at your gratitude and helps put the necklace on you. Your parents looked happy, enjoying seeing their daughter so happy. Jungkook was excited to see what you had gotten him; a special lens for his camera that he had talked on and on about purchasing soon. He was giddy, running upstairs to grab his camera, testing out the new lens on pictures of you and your family.

Once again, you found yourself in your old room, curled up with Jungkook, but this time you were unable to sleep. Rolling over, you faced Jungkook, who cracked one eye and peeked at you.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, voice laced with sleep. You noticed how easily the endearment rolled off his tongue even with no one around to convince.

“I—the gift you got me,” your fingers fidgeted with the small cherry blossom on the necklace. “I hope it didn’t cost too much. You can return it once we break up if you need to.”

“Y/N, that gift is for you. For being such a great… friend. Helping me do this. I really think it’s working.”

“You deserve to be happy Jungkook. I’m glad you were able to get space long enough to work out how you feel, and that you’re working your way to being happier.”

“Yea, I think I’ve been much happier lately...”

You watched his tongue run along his lips, and you couldn’t help but train your eyes on the movement. He caught your eyes, his hands gripped you a bit tighter as the tension in the dark room grew.

“...much happier...”

You weren’t sure who moved first, you or Jungkook, but at that point, it didn’t really matter. The way your lips sought his, the way his hands pulled you closer, the two of you were acting on instinct. This kiss wasn’t for practice or for show, who was to know what happened here, in this room tonight, but the two of you?

You let out a moan as he dipped his head lower, tracing kisses from your neck to what was exposed of your collarbone. His touch is impatient, tugging and kneading, unable to stay still on your body. His scent alone, a musky vanilla scent, engulfed your senses and you wanted… more.

You threw your leg over his body, turning the two of you until you’re straddled on top of him, able to press your core down onto his very firm cock. His boxers and your sleep shorts are the only things holding it back from assaulting you, and you’re annoyed that they’re in the way. Reaching down, you slide your hand roughly into the waistline of the boxers, fingers gripping him.

Jungkook groaned into your neck, the feel of your hand as you palm him building the craving he had for you. He wanted you. Not just physically. But you had those stupid rules, and he couldn’t just break them. He respected you more than that, and falling in love with you? Well that wasn’t part of the plan.

Jungkook slows the way he’s kissing you, slows the way he was thrusting into your hand and pushes you gently off of him and back to your side of the bed. You’re both panting, barely able to catch your breath as he pulled your back to his chest and held you close.

“We’ve got a long trip tomorrow morning to Busan, babe. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Oh… okay?” You were so confused. You had never been turned down before, especially not when you were so far into the act, practically ready to pull your panties to the side and ease him into you. You were throbbing, body aching with want, and you knew he was too; could feel the hardness as it nestled in the dip between your cheeks.

You felt him kiss your head, followed by a soft double peck to your neck, and not 10 minutes later his breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. 

You, on the other hand, laid awake, thoughts running wild.

——

Christmas morning you had an early breakfast with your family before opening stockings. Your parents had only a couple of weeks to prepare for Jungkook, but they had prepared a stocking for him as well; your mom embroidering his name onto it and stuffing it full to the brim. 

You were surprised at the gifts; a couple boxes of polaroid film, a bag of banana kick chips, individually packaged egg snacks, and colorful candy canes. Yours were similar as well, a small collection of sewing items for designing, and your favorite snacks. Your mom ruffled Jungkook’s sleepy-head hair as he offered his thanks to your parents, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swoon at the sight. You realized something heartbreaking at that moment: breaking up with Jungkook once this was over would hurt more than just you. 

Heading to Jungkook’s parents house was a different experience after the previous night. Yuna had obviously stayed with your parents, and would be catching the train back the same day you left Busan. 

This was the first time the two of you had been alone since the rejection the night before, and you were doing your best to ignore the hurt feeling that would bloom every time you caught yourself dwelling on it. You focused on your phone instead, posting a few photos on Instagram so that you were sticking to your end of the deal. Somin would see these posts some way or another, and it would hopefully do what it was intended to.

Jungkook didn’t seem to think twice about the rejection, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and treating you like you were really together, a true couple going to meet his parents for the first time. 

“Nervous?”

“A little. I’ll be meeting your parents, and we’re not really together,” you looked down at your hands, missing the way Jungkook’s face fell for a few seconds before working it’s way back to a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I think we’re together enough where it counts. No one watching us would doubt it,” he intertwined your fingers and gave it an encouraging squeeze, “sometimes even I forget you’re not my real girlfriend.” He laughed, and the sound leaves an ache in your chest.

“Same, haha...” You looked out the window of the KTX, ready to breathe the fresh air of the nearby sea. Jungkook released your hand and you both went back to your tasks, Jungkook reading emails and you sketching designs for work.

Jungkook’s parents treated you much like yours had treated Jungkook. Like you were the greatest thing to happen to their child.

“Y/N, you’re so pretty! Oh, thank heavens, we have a chance at cute grandchildren now.” Jungkook’s mom bowed her head in thanks to a higher power, and you couldn’t help feeling a little bad that you weren’t actually dating Jungkook. You would have liked to deserve the praise she was giving you.

“He looks so much happier, happier than we’ve seen him in a long time.” She smiled at his father and their eyes, so similar to their two sons, crinkled in the corners. JungHyun greeted you with a hug, and you reciprocated it.

“Hi, Oppa,” you teased, and Jungkook glared at you. 

“Yah! That’s Jeon JungHyun to you,” he leaned closer to your ear in a mock whisper, “only I get called Oppa.”

JungHyun cringed back in mock disgust.

“I do not need to know about your ‘Oppa kink’ in the bedroom.” He shivered as he walked back to the living room, where he put away his laptop to make space for gifts.

Their dad, who you were very glad had not heard his eldest son’s comment, gestured to you to leave your suitcases in the entryway and come sit down.

“Kookie, pass out the gifts please. Your mom has been waiting all morning in excitement for you two to get here. We can have lunch after you guys get situated.”

Jungkook, ever the dutiful youngest son, began to distribute gifts amongst you all, while you handed your own gifts that you had gotten for his family out to them. 

“You didn’t have to get them anything,” Jungkook whispered as he dropped a gift off for you from his own parents.

You gave him a pointed look, gesturing subtly to the gift.

“I did.”

He shook his head with a smile and continued until the space under the tree was empty.

“So, we just open them all at the same time! Save your thanks for the end, ready?” His dad looked at you, and you nodded.

“Let’s get it!” Jungkook shouted, and everyone laughed at his phrase as you began to open your gifts. You didn’t have many, one from his parents and JungHyun, and 2 from Jungkook. His family had given you a Pantone Color Swatch book that was easy to carry around, to help while on set working. It was very thoughtful, and you knew it could not have been cheap. You bowed deeply, on your knees and forehead to their floor as a show of your gratitude and respect.

They motioned for you to sit back up, waving off your thanks as if it was no big deal for them to get this gift for you. You turned to Jungkook’s gift, eyes already threatening tears at their sincere treatment of you, and once opened, you did cry.

Nestled inside a satin lined box was a beautiful set of Dwikkoji, traditional hair pins, that came with a small card identifying them as from the Joseon era.

“Jungkook!” you gasped, sure that they couldn’t be real.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t have to pay for them. But they would look much better displayed in your office as our head fashionista then collecting dust in storage.”

You couldn’t hold back your feelings any longer. Acting on instinct, you tugged him towards you, wrapping your arms under his own and around his frame as you let your tears fall.

“They’re beautiful, Kookie.” 

Jungkook reciprocated your embrace, his hand smoothing down your hair as his parents smiled at the scene in front of them.

“Ah, young love, remember when that was us?”

—

Unlike your parents, who wanted to pretend that the two of you were a modest young couple, Jungkook’s parents assumed that the two of you would room together. His dad had clapped him on his shoulder and congratulated him on bringing home such a fine woman. Apparently in the two weeks that JungHyun had been home, he had raved about you to his parents, showing pictures from your social media accounts of the two of you together, as well as your fashion talent. Jungkook too had talked on the phone to his parents, you came to find out, which was why his parents were so enthralled by you, despite only dating Jungkook for a short time.

Lunch was fun. Spending time with the Jeons was full of laughter. His family was like him, generous and kind hearted, and you enjoyed spending time with his mom in the kitchen making cookies for dessert.

That night you went out for a drive to look at Christmas lights, before you all stopped off at the town center where they had outdoor ice skating set up. Jungkook had his camera with the new personalized strap you made him (yay fashion classes!) around his neck, taking photos of you and his family as you glided across the frozen water. You spent an hour there before heading home to warm up with hot cocoa and Christmas movies. You found out that this was their tradition every year, and it made you happy to know they wanted to share it with you. Even if it was only for this one Christmas.

Having showered first, you traveled down the hall to get water from the kitchen while you waited for Jungkook to finish his. His family had a one level house; His parents’ room was located on one side of the living room and kitchen, while Jungkook and his brother’s room was on the other side. 

You heard his parents talking at the table and you slowed down, resting the back of your head on the wall as you heard them say your name.

“Oh, honey, Y/N is so darling! I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

“He looks so in love with her.”

“Well, remember, he used to have the biggest crush on her.”

“But that was years ago. They were what, 20? And somehow he chose Somin?”

“Sometimes, people aren't ready. Now, they’re older. Better chances of them working out. Oh, honey, I hope they work out. She would be such a cute daughter in law.”

“I know, but don’t pressure them. Let them realize how in love with each other they are on their own.”

“Do you think she loves him too?”

“I don’t have a single doubt in my mind. I saw the way they were together.They’re in love, whether they realize it or not.”

“Ahh, so we could have grandchildren soon? JungHyun seems like he’s never going to settle down... ”

“Aish, grandchildren? I’m too young to be a grandpa!”

Instead of interrupting them, you headed back to his room, mind racing with their words. Jungkook had a crush on you? They thought the two of you were in love? Daughter in law? Jungkook chose that moment to come into the room, towel wrapped low around his waist as he checked his phone and you couldn’t look away.

“You’re starting to drool there, babe.”

You swallowed and looked away, grabbing your hair and running your fingers through it to put it into a bun on your head.

“I just uh—I wanted to talk to you about the contract.”

Jungkook, who was facing his dresser where his suitcase was opened up, froze. His eyes sought yours in the mirror, his reflection giving away nothing.

“Oh? What, uh, what about it?”

“Well, our parents seem to like us together, I mean, they’re talking about grandkids, and well, I would hate to break up so soon after having met them. I know this was only supposed to go on until you figured out what to do about Somin, but if it’s alright with you,” you look away, twisting your fingers in nervousness, “I would like for us to continue to date.”

Jungkook’s mind was racing. He understood what you meant. Your parents seemed to love him, discussing future visits for the holidays and his family had been no different. And thinking about ending the contract? Well, he had already been thinking about doing that. So he could date you, for real. Somin texted him while he was in the shower, upset about missing Christmas with his family. Jungkook thought that it would bother him, his first holiday without her, but he realized he couldn’t care less. 

Somin treated him like a prize to be toted around and shown off. He was good for bragging; his face, body, high paying job, it all granted her status. She had no ambition to grow within the company, still a one act manager after graduating as an interning manager’s assistant. But you? God, you were different. You had ambition, you didn’t care about what Jungkook could provide for you, and you listened to him, to his dreams. You were thoughtful, appreciative, and everything you had done was to help him be happy. Even fake dating, while it benefitted you as well, you had gone above and beyond for him.

You stood up, walking closer to him where he was lost in his thoughts.

“Jungkook?” you intoned, your fingers softly settling on the back of his shoulder, waiting for his response.

“I think, yeah. I think that would be a good idea. My parents and brother love you.”

Your heart soared. He wanted to continue this. Not go back to Somin right away. He barely brought her up this whole trip. You felt giddy, hopeful that maybe one day, this could be something more.

“So then, it’s settled.”

Jungkook turned around, catching your hand before you could drop it back to your side.

“I think we should reexamine that contract, but tonight, I’d really like to say fuck it.”

Jungkook stepped into your space, and in a heart’s beat, he had ensnared your lips, his arms pulling you closer to him. Your own arms snaked up his body, hands pulling his head closer to you, your fingers playing with the wet strands at his nape. His kisses were fervent, lips almost rough as he pressed them to yours before he was swiping his tongue across the opening of your mouth, seeking entrance. 

You groaned as you arched your back, seeking to deepen the kiss as you pressed higher on your tiptoes, wanting more of him. His palm skimmed your back down to your butt, where he applied pressure and lifted you with brute strength. You pulled away with a gasp, not expecting to be lifted up. He just looked at you with pupils blown, one eyebrow raised suggestively as he carried you to his bed.

“I think we should practice making ‘grandchildren’ for them.”

He set you down, long enough to grip the hem of your shirt before he pulled it over your head. His eyes moved to your chest, and he closed his eyes as he sighed in defeat.

“You’ve been keeping this from me?”

“You’ve seen me naked before,” you remind him, but he just shook his head.

“Years ago, Y/N, and let me tell you, my memory didn’t do you justice. I think I need a reminder.”

You throw him a suggestive look, knowing that you’ve both had some experience with sex since your shared first time all those years ago. This time, there was no fumbling, no nervous laughter, or apologizing. This time, Jungkook was in command of his body, and of yours too. He rid you of your shorts, leaving you naked on his sheets as he dropped his towel. 

You marveled at how his body had changed: the muscle gained and the chiseled jaw you loved to admire. Jungkook bit his lip and did the same to you, eyes roving along your curves, the way you weren’t shying away from his touch as his fingers trailed up your thigh.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond, as Jungkook kissed you again, this time with less fervor, his body crawling above yours as he joined you on the bed. His hands touched you everywhere, fondling your breasts and your ass as he kissed down your neck, nipping the skin and leaving marks along your neck. You feel the ache as your wetness pools between your legs, and Jungkook’s growing member sits heavy where it’s pressed against your thigh. 

“Jungkook, please—”

He nips a bit harder, the sound of you begging for him made him infinitely larger. He wanted to be in you, but he didn’t want to rush it, wanted to savor you for as long as he had you under him. Kissing down your body, his tongue leaves a cool, wet trail and you writhe, ticklish to his tongues path to your core. 

Parting your legs wider, he smirked at you from where he's sat on his knees, your thighs on either side of his gloriously naked body. Leaning forward, he never breaks eye contact as you watch his lips meet your mound. Gentle kisses pressed to your lips, and then his tongue is parting them, flicking your clit in greeting. Your head is thrown back, you know you should be quieter, but the onslaught of his lips and tongue as they pleasure your sweet spot has you reduced to base instincts only. And right now, they want Jungkook to know that he had better not stop.

You rolled your hips, seeking more, and he gives in, thick fingers immersing themselves inside of you. You clench, walls shocked at the intrusion but welcoming it all the same. He felt so good, and you tell him as much, so he continued to finger fuck you as he lapped up your release, carrying you through your orgasm.

He was so hard, cock throbbing as he kissed back up your body, and after spitting into your hand, you reached down to stroke along his shaft, palm twisting and gliding as he nuzzled his face back into your neck, quiet little moans rolling out of his mouth with each stroke. You made him feel so good, your body warm and soft as your smaller hand stroked his larger ego, in more ways than one.

Without preamble, you positioned him at your opening and lifted your hips, allowing him to feel how warm your walls were, waiting for him. He pushed up on his palms on either side of your head and the look he gave you was indecipherable before your own eyes shut; he engulfed his cock in the swollen velvet that was your cunt, buried to the hilt.

He had tried his best to prepare you, but every glorious inch stretching you out was a breath you needed to take in order to grow accustomed to his size. You counted nine breaths, then opened your eyes, taking in the trembling of his arms as he held himself back from pounding into you.

“Move, Kook, please,” you whine, and he wasted no time following your orders.

His hips grinded into you as he rolled them, angling himself to take you as deep as humanly possible. His pace started off fast, but soon he was slowing down, head dropped into the crook of your neck as your nails dragged red marks down his back. You rocked your hips in time to his thrusts, using your grip on his back as leverage to meet him halfway. 

“You feel so good, so wet for me,” he murmured with each thrust, and you bit his shoulder, afraid if you didn’t gag yourself, you would say the wrong thing.

Everything about you enveloped him, your scent, your arms and thighs that were holding him close; he could barely think straight as he tried to get you to cum again before he got himself off. But you felt so good, tight clenches as your arousal gushed and coated his cock, he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Then you bit his shoulder, and he sped up his stroke, hips rolled in fast succession as your body jostled underneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby,” you mewl into his ear, and he lifted his head up out of your neck, resting his forehead on yours. 

“I want to watch you, don’t close your eyes,” he pleads and you try your best to keep them open, not closing them for long as the coil builds in your lower abdomen. He adjusted your bodies, lifted your legs up slightly which allowed him a deeper angle that hits your g-spot. Your mouth hangs open, a fucked out expression on your face and Jungkook loses it.

The first spurt of his hot cum sends you over the edge, and you're spiraling down, pussy contracting around his cock, milking him for every drop. You maintain eye contact, watching each other for a few seconds before you can’t help but close them, the pleasure too great.

Jungkook pressed his lips to yours as you both cum, using them to cage in the words he wanted to say, wanted to shout from the rooftops, but wasn’t yet sure you felt the same way.

——

Waking up in Jungkook’s arms, you felt sore. So sore, but also satisfied. You hadn’t slept this well in ages, and if Jungkook’s deep slumber and dead weight arm draped over your waist was anything to go by, he hadn’t either. You moved his arm slowly, headed for the shower, and let out a small gasp as JungHyun also exited his bedroom at the same time.

“Well, don’t you look... rested,” he trailed off, a look of knowing on his face.

Your face burned in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, as soon as I heard little brother start to get a little… feral, I turned up my TV while I gamed. Parents didn’t hear a peep.”

“Thank you, oppa.” You bowed, gratitude seeping out of each of your pores.

“Now, those marks on the other hand,” he gestured to your neck, “might I suggest an ice pack for 20 minutes and then some really good makeup?”

You hurried into the bathroom as he laughed his way towards the kitchen. A minute later he knocked, passing you a small ice-pack through the cracked door.

“20 minutes,” he reminded you with a wink, and went back into his room with his cereal.

—

Saying goodbye to Jungkook’s parents after a late breakfast was tough. His mom cried, saying her baby son did not visit enough and that she would miss him. She also said she would miss you greatly, and that you better come back with him soon to visit.

It was tough to promise her that you would, knowing that there was a very real chance that you wouldn’t. This was fake after all. You had just agreed to extend the contract briefly, to get through the holidays and while Jungkook said ‘fuck it’ last night, with the rising of the sun came the clarity of the situation. 

Jungkook behaved much the same, holding your hand and showering you with PDA, and while you reciprocated, you couldn’t help but feel like the magic of Christmas was over. Heading back to Seoul meant back to reality. You weren’t sure you were ready for that. For the first time in your life, you felt like you could see a future with someone, with him, despite the relationship being fake thus far. To be honest, it hadn’t felt fake since the night of the party. 

The entire trip, all 3 and a half hours of it, you ruminated on last night and what it meant. You hated to admit that you had fallen for Jungkook, and had given up rule number 7 on a whim. For all you knew, he would be going back to Somin at the end of this. 

In his own little world, Jungkook too couldn’t stop thinking about you and what last night meant. He wished he had said to forget the contract all together, instead of just for the night. He wanted to see if you felt the same way, but he wanted to be sure that his Somin chapter was done. He needed to see her and make sure he was over her, and not just using you as a rebound. You didn’t deserve that.

Jungkook’s body language had you on edge, as his foot tapped incessantly as the train got closer and closer to Seoul. You placed your hand on his knee, a reassuring move for both of you. 

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just—Somin messaged me.” He had been thinking about it the whole trip back to Seoul, about how her messages didn’t affect him anymore. Before, he could barely go a few minutes before responding. Now, almost 18 hours had passed and he wasn’t bothered.

“When?” Your voice came out sharper than intended, and Jungkook flinched back from you.

“Uh, last night, right after I got out of the shower.”

Your brain began to connect dots that you didn’t want it to.

“Oh,” you respond, trying to keep your voice light. Jungkook was confused at your reaction; usually you were jumping to keep him and Somin apart. This response felt like you didn’t care, like if he met up with Somin, it wouldn’t impact you at all.

“She just… I think that you’re right. The plan is working and I’ve been happier than I’ve been in a long time. But I guess there’s that part of me that needs to talk with her, express how I feel. I want to be sure.” Before I confess my feelings to you, he thought.

“Right. Well, that was the goal, getting you to figure out what you want.” You turned your head away from him and deeper into the neck pillow, trying to get this conversation done and over with before he said something that really broke your heart.

“I know. I guess I’ll meet up with her when we get back? The sooner the better I guess.”

“True, the faster you meet with her, figure it all out, the faster we can move towards breaking up.”

Jungkook freezes, but you don’t notice, too focused on not looking at him.

“At breaking up?”

“Yea, that was the plan right? We date for a couple more weeks, then break up, so you can get back with Somin, if she’s changed, you know?”

“You—”

“Hey Jungkook? I’m really tired, can we talk about this later?”

Jungkook stared at your form, taking in how closed off you were from him. He didn’t understand what changed. He sat back, finally replying to Somin’s text, agreeing to meet at a cafe by his apartment later that evening.

—

Jungkook saw you home, worried the entire ride to your place about what was happening between the two of you. He thought everything had been going well, and after last night, he didn’t know how he could have possibly fucked up. He hoped you were just PMS-ing, like Somin used to always blame moods like this on. 

You let him carry your suitcase upstairs to your apartment and when he leaned in for a kiss, you kissed him back, but he felt it was almost out of obligation; your sister was sitting on the couch watching the two of you. Jungkook paused at your door, but you had turned away from him, so ready to be alone. So he let you close the door in his face, let you have time to yourself.

Jungkook got to the cafe, eyes searching for the long black hair of his ex. When he approached her she smiled at him. Jungkook saw the way her face lit up, the way the smile graced her pretty face, and felt nothing for it. Sitting down, a cafe worker took their drink order and left them alone.

“So, you said you wanted to talk?” Jungkook asked, fidgeting with his fingers drumming on his knee.

“Kookie, I miss you.” Somin leaned toward him, chest pushed out in her off the shoulder zebra print dress. Her black heel nudged against Jungkook’s leg, rubbing it suggestively.

Jungkook moved his leg out of reach and sighed.

“Somin—”

“Minnie.” She pouted, red painted bottom lip jutting out after she cut him off to correct her name.

“Somin. I—I’m sorry.” Jungkook felt awkward. Here he was, sitting in front of his ex, who was undoubtedly a gorgeous woman. But after all they had been through—all she put him through—and all the healing you had done to his heart, he realized he had fallen out of love with her a long time ago. “I know you had hopes of us getting back together.”

“Well, of course we’re getting back together Kookie. We’re made for each other. Since we were 20! I know this thing with Y/N is just revenge. You wanted to make me mad, teach me a lesson,” she said as she reached out and grabbed Jungkook’s hand in hers, “and I have learned it. Christmas without you was so sad. I had no one to go out to all the holiday parties with.”

Jungkook shifted in the metal chair. “Look, Somin—”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she interrupted again, and Jungkook let out a loud sigh as he tried to maintain his cool.

“Because, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“Jungkook! Somin!”

The loud yell of the barista reading out orders cut Jungkook off for the third time, and he groaned, running his tattooed hand over his face. With a huff, he stood up, walking through the crowded cafe to get the drinks so he could just tell Somin the truth; he may have initially wanted to teach her a lesson, but he ended up being the person who learned something from it. He was in love with you; wanted to spend more holidays like the one that just passed, with you. He truly didn’t feel anything for Somin anymore, other than friendship.

While Jungkook was up, Somin noticed his bag was open, a fancy camera strap hanging out of it. It was embroidered; the phrase ‘you shine brighter than anyone’ apparent once she pulled it free from his oversized black backpack. Somin threw a glance over her shoulder at Jungkook, seeing him still busy, so she stuffed the strap into her purse. Grabbing her phone, she sent a text to Taehyung.

Jungkook set down the drinks before sitting down himself and commanding the attention of his ex. 

“Look, Somin, I just—I’m sorry.” Jungkook looked down at his hands before making eye contact with her. “I don’t see us getting back together. I—” he paused, taking a deep breath before he spoke his truth, “I’m in love with her, Minie. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I want to be happy. I want you to be happy with someone who feels about you, how I feel about her.”

Somin stared at Jungkook before she laughed. He was unsure of the emotions she was actually feeling; perplexed by her reaction to what he just told her. He didn't want to be with her anymore, and he wasn’t looking for her to beg, but he expected a little more... sadness? Push back? Once she was done laughing, she leveled her gaze at him.

“You, you’ve barely been seeing her Jungkook. How can you love her?”

Jungkook took a sip of his drink, gathering his thoughts before he answered her. The judgement that laced her tone made him angry, but he didn’t want to give Somin the upper hand. He wanted to be an adult about the situation. In retrospect, he hadn’t been honest with Somin when she first confessed to him, and you deserved for him to share that honesty now, even if it was coming 5 years later.

“I think—I think a part of me has always loved her. Since that first year. Don’t get me wrong, I think I loved you too and at some point we just… I think we just broke up and then made up too many times because it was easy… familiar. I love you Minie, and you were a huge part of my life. I’m just not IN love with you.” Jungkook leaned forward towards Somin, placing his hand over here, hoping that she would see and feel his sincerity and his benevolence. 

“Wow, I—You’re serious?” Somin’s voice was quiet as she questioned him. “I guess I didn’t think I’d be starting the new year without you.”

Jungkook watched as she slid her hand out from under his and placed it in her lap.

“Please, be happy for me Minie, and when you’re ready, I’ll be happy for you too.”

The loud chime from Somin’s phone went off. Jungkook watched as she looked at her screen, eyes growing wide.

“Shit, an emergency with Tae.” Somin looked up at Jungkook, her face soft and apologetic.

“Koo—I mean Jungkook, I was just surprised is all. I—I am happy for you and Y/N. Or, I guess it’s more like, I will be. I’m sorry, I have to run, but thank you for meeting with me.”

Somin gave him one last smile, as if showing she was throwing the towel in, before she stood up and left the cafe in a hurry. Jungkook watched her as she dashed off, disappearing down the sidewalk towards the nearest bus stop. He thought the meeting had gone well, or at least better than expected. Maybe Somin has grown up, he thought to himself, unaware of the way she made off cunningly with his gifted camera strap, using a text that confirmed the time for the next morning’s meeting with Taehyung as an excuse to escape.

——

After closing the door in Jungkook’s face, you retreated to your room, claiming that a headache was creeping in from the long train ride. Your sister nodded, engrossed in her latest K Drama. You rolled your suitcase into your room, stripped your travel clothes from your weary body, and entered your shower. 

Free to do as you pleased, with the water to cover the sound, you wept. How foolish you felt, letting Jungkook close to you once again, only to see him rush off to Somin. It was almost like what happened 5 years ago, when you had gone to his dorm room and found her confessing. Just like then, Somin was winning Jungkook; once again he had slipped through your grasp.

That night you texted Jungkook to tell him you would be going to the office early and that he needn’t pick you up.

Jungkook was relieved upon seeing your text. He had spent the better half of the evening and the morning tearing apart his apartment. He had called his parents, his brother, and overturned his luggage onto the floor. He could not find the camera strap you made him. 

He knew that he shouldn’t have taken it off the camera, but he spilled a bit of leftovers from his mom on it while on the train and removed it to make it easier to clean once he got home. 

Unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found. 

Jungkook was frantic; he knew that you made it for him that night you sat in the sewing room with your mom and sister while he was with your dad. Your mom had an embroidery machine, and so you snuck in there under the premise of bonding time and worked on it. He loved the phrase you chose for him; it reminded him of your love letter to him, the way you had written about him making you feel as beautiful as a night sky. “you looked at me as if the galaxies were reflected in my eyes...”

Dumping out his black backpack for the umpteenth time, Jungkook sifted through notebooks, film, wrappers from snacks, a small hygiene bag, and loose photos. He doesn’t know why he continued looking through the same places. It’s not there. Glancing at the clock, he realized he would be late to the Monday morning meeting. Giving up and putting everything he needed back into his bookbag, he stepped over the mess and headed out to his car.

Walking into the conference room, everyone looked tired from their holidays, but with the New Year around the corner, it was important for everyone to attend before January. SeoulM8’s comeback was fast approaching, and making sure everything was moving smoothly was imperative to whether the next holiday was spent relaxing or spent stressed out. 

Stirring your coffee, you walked through the propped open door and maneuvered your way over to where your assistants sat. Kim, the same one who brought you the tiger lillies several weeks ago, smiled at you as she slid you the stapled packet she printed out from the email.

“I think we’ve done all our parts, the photos Jeon emailed over have been approved by the boss, and we double-checked the designers they are wearing. I think all that’s left is to get final approval on the outfits for their comeback shows and interviews during comeback week.” 

You nodded, sipping the still hot coffee as Kim spoke quietly about the role you played for SeoulM8, eyes on the printed email. It didn’t help the way you could feel the mocha eyes of a certain ‘missing in action’ best friend burning into the side of your face; or the way the empty seat across from you saved for a certain ‘boyfriend’ of yours had your anxiety on edge.

With 5 minutes left until the meeting commenced, you had done a pretty good job at tuning out all of the mindless chatter around you, that is until Somin’s nasally voice interrupted your response to Kim.

“Oh, this? It’s just a little gift for JK.”

“But you broke up? He’s with Y/N now...” Hobi said, cutting off a reply from one of the assistants sitting near Somin.

“But we dated for 5 years, he’s still important to me. I think he’ll love it.” She turned her back to Hobi, who tried to make eye contact with you. You looked down at your coffee instead.

When Jimin and Taehyung walked into the room, everyone quieted down and took their seats if they weren’t already, assuming Bang PD, the head boss, would be quickly approaching behind them. Before the glass door could swing fully shut, Jungkook sprinted into the room, out of breath.

“Oh Jungkook, here!” Somin stood up, making a big show out of handing him the small gift bag that had been on the table in front of her. 

“Oh? Uh, thanks Minie.” Jungkook said, looking for the head boss. Bang PD was still missing from the room, so he grasped the colorful tissue paper from the bag and removed it in one swift pull. As the paper fluttered to the table, Jungkook’s eyes lit up as he took in the present.

“Oh my God, thank you!” Jungkook wrapped his arms around Somin in a huge hug, surprising everyone in the room watching, including you. Despite all of your negative thoughts about you and Jungkook’s future, seeing him react that way was unexpected and you felt your heart ache seeing him hold her in an embrace.

Sitting down, Jungkook turns to talk to Somin when you notice Bang PD walking down the long hallway towards the closed glass doors. 

You turned to the front of the room where SeoulM8 was seated next to the only empty chair in the room, fully intending to pay attention, but Jungkook’s movements directly across from you pulled your attention away. When you see the embroidered strap that YOU had given to him for Christmas a mere 2 days ago slide free from the bag, you see red. Before Bang PD can enter the room, you’ve already stood up. 

Both Namjoon and Jungkook look at you, followed by everyone else’s gaze; it’s too late to hide the tears that fall down your face. 

“Y/N, I can explain—” Jungkook said as you make your way around the table toward the door. He grabbed your wrist to stop you, but you pulled it from his grasp.

“Save it, Jeon. It’s over.”

You leave the meeting, walking brusquely past your boss with your head down. You type out a quick text to him as you take the elevator down, apologizing for leaving and saying that an emergency came up. Bang PD responds within a few moments.

Back in the conference room, Jungkook attempted to call you, but you sent him to voicemail twice. Giving up, he grabbed his bag, fully planning to follow you, when he saw Namjoon stand before he could. Throwing a dirty look at Jungkook, Namjoon shook his head at him before quickly following you out the door. 

You haven’t gone far, making it only to your office where you gathered up the rest of your belongings when Namjoon burst in.

“Y/N,” he sounded a little out of breath, probably from running to the elevator and then to your office, you assumed, “I—”

“Save it, Joon. You didn’t want to talk to me these past few weeks, so I don’t know why you’re here now.”

“Because I realized I love you.”

You stopped packing up your laptop, eyes slowly moving to meet his.

“What did you say?”

“I said I love you. I didn’t realize it until you started dating Jungkook, but I do.”

You shook your head back and forth, unable to hear or deal with his feelings right now.

“No, Namjoon, you don’t. You just miss Jennie.”

“Y/N, listen, I should’ve realized it was you. It’s always been you. You can’t honestly tell me that you’re in love with Jungkook?” Namjoon said this last part with contempt.

Tears fell once again, and you dropped your hands uselessly to your side.

“I do, Namjoon. I honestly love him.”

“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but-”

“Then don’t,” you voiced, cutting him off with an edge to your voice.

“You and Jungkook? Please. Anyone can see how different you are. You and me, though? We’re better for each other.”

“How different we are? Why? Am I too out of his league? Not pretty enough?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. You guys just aren’t compatible—”

“And how the fuck would you even know?! You saw us together at what? One party? And then at work? What do you even know about our relationship, Joon?! You’ve been angry at me ever since you found out!”

“Because you and him together isn’t right! It’s supposed to be you and me!”

“Oh please, Namjoon. If Jennie hadn’t taken that Japan job and dumped you, you wouldn’t even be here right now. I wouldn’t have even crossed your mind. This is a pointless conversation.”

You walked towards the door, bag over your shoulder and laptop case in hand. Namjoon blocked the doorway, and behind him you could see nosey coworkers watching the interaction. 

“Move, Namjoon.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“No,” you go to shoulder past him, and you were able to back him up into the common area outside of your office. He grabbed at your shoulders, holding you still. 

“Namjoon, let go of me!” At this moment you hated that you had dressed up for this meeting; a tight a-line pencil skirt and heels that don’t allow you the movement that you needed.

Before you can shimmy from his clutches, he’s leaning forward, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. In shock, you don’t move at first, not until your free hand shoved his shoulder and pushed him a step back.

“I can’t believe you.” 

The look you gave him could burn the sun, and this time you were able to push past him; the elevator getting closer and closer as you approached. You saw Jungkook, motionless, at the platform in front of the elevators; his eyes low in a glare aimed at Namjoon, who had followed you in your haste to escape.

“Hyung, you need to leave her alone.”

“Me? I’m her best friend. I would say you were her boyfriend, but we all heard her break up with you when she left the room crying.”

“That was just a misunderstanding. So like I said, leave her alone.” Jungkook stepped forward to his full height, chest to chest with his hyung, who prior to watching him force a kiss on you, he respected a lot. The tension on the floor was thick. You were mere steps from freedom, from Namjoon and Jungkook, when his words stopped you dead in your tracks. A misunderstanding? 

Did he not understand what the words ‘It’s over’ meant? That the contract, the relationship between the two of you, however real or fake, everything was null and void? 

“It wasn’t a misunderstanding, Jungkook.”

Big, confused, doe eyes turned to face you. “Y/N, please let’s just talk about th—”

“Why don’t you take your own advice and listen to her, Kook. You could never treat her how she deserves.” 

“Why don’t you go mind your own business Namjoon.” Jungkook bit back, fists clenched as he shook, holding back his anger. He just wanted to be alone to talk to you, but Namjoon was making it difficult.

“She is my business, she’s my best friend. She’s nothing to you now. Though, knowing you, that’s probably the reason she broke up with you. I bet you didn’t treat Somin right, and now you fucked up with Y/N. Can’t do anything right, can yo—”

Jungkook’s fist flew through the air before you could tell either of them to stop talking about what they don’t know. The sound of Namjoon’s jaw connecting to his fist echoed through the large room, and the crowd of bystanders yelled out in shock at watching a full on fight start in the building.

You yelled as Namjoon tackled Jungkook around his middle, tackling him to the ground before he reared back his fist to punch him back. 

“Namjoon, stop, STOP!” you yelled as Jungkook flipped Namjoon onto his back, swapping places as he took the liberty to return the blow. Putting down your laptop and bag haphazardly, you rushed closer. Leaning down, you grabbed at Jungkook’s arm that was cocked back to throw another punch, yelling his name frantically.

“Jungkook, Kookie, PLEASE STOP!”

The two men looked at your face, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they tried to catch their breath. Jungkook’s eyes were dilated. As he took in your state, he seemed to come back to his senses. He started to climb up off of where he straddled Namjoon, pinning him to the floor, his hand reaching up towards you from where he was kneeled on the ground.

“Y/N, I’m sorry baby, please just talk to me.” Jungkook’s bottom lip was split, a small bit of blood leaking from the cut. His cheekbone was red; you knew a bruise would form there. Namjoon too tried to sit up, leaning on his elbow as his split eyebrow spilled his blood down the side of his face. He too would be sporting a shiner for the next week or so. 

You almost reached for Jungkook, returned the gesture to cradle that beautiful face, but you couldn’t. Him fighting Namjoon changed nothing about the fact that Somin had the present you gave him, that she brought it to him as if she had given it to him, let alone the response he gave her when he saw it. Backing away, you almost tripped over your belongings before you thought to collect them, and then dashed into the elevator, leaving the two men bleeding on the floor as the doors shut, cutting off the view.

——

Dealing with the aftermath of the fight was not something you thought would be so difficult to do. 

Working remotely meant not being able to turn off your phone so you didn’t miss any important calls or texts. Unfortunately, it also meant you had to deal with the barrage of texts and calls from friends and co-workers wanting to know about the fight. 

According to Jimin, the only person other than Kim who you were responding to, the whole office heard about the fight. With Jin being Jungkook’s roommate, and of course being the resident gossip, news traveled fast that the two men got into a fist throwing match over you. This only had you double down on avoiding messages, calls, and not posting to social media. It was unlike you; as a fashionista who worked with models and artists like SeoulM8 and Kim Seokjin, people looked to your accounts for updates. 

Your silence was killing Jungkook, the one person who had not given up. Jungkook hated to not give people time, but he had the feeling like the more time you had, the faster you would slip from his fingertips. You stared at your phone, watching his name light up on the screen as a picture of the two of you, set as his contact photo, taunted you with memories. 

All you could do was lay there, curled up on your bed in your pajamas for the second day in a row, hating yourself. Hating the fact that you allowed yourself to break your rules, that you let Jungkook into your heart for a second time, only to watch it all come crashing down because he couldn’t let go of Somin. What did Somin have that you didn’t? How was it that she always won?

5 years ago you lost Jungkook to her, after giving him your virginity, something he knew was a big deal, as he had given his to you in exchange. And now again, you had so foolishly fallen into bed with him again, and he ran back to Somin. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? You were already blaming yourself heavy for this one. 

Another day passed before you finally pulled yourself up out of bed long enough to shower and get dressed in a different set of sweats. A knocking sound at the front door had you tense up. Luckily, your sister answered the door, able to field away anyone who wanted to see you.

Creeping silently to the door of your bedroom, you cracked it open and listened to see who was there. From the angle you could see your sister, but not who was outside, nor could they see you. The warm tone was instantly recognizable, and your eyes widened as your sister looked back at you. Shaking your head profusely, she denied entry and shut the door, walking over to you. You back away from the door, letting her in as you sit on your bed. Crossing your legs, you grabbed a stuffie and clutched it to your chest.

“Hey, can you tell me what happened? Why are you hiding out at home and not answering Jungkook’s calls? What’s going on?”

You sighed, taking a much needed breath before you recounted the whole story. You told her about the journal entries being sent out, about how Namjoon had confronted you leading to you lying and saying you were with Jungkook, who came up with the plan to fake date each other until the Somin and Namjoon issues calmed down for both of you. 

She listened intently, shocked to hear that it was all fake, and she told you as much once you finished sharing about the fight that ensued on Monday.

“Sis, that man loves you. I could see it when he came to the door. I think you should talk to him.”

“No. It’s all my fault all of this happened anyways. If I hadn’t been drunk and sent those messages out, I would have never had to lie to Namjoon and start all of this.”

Yuna squirmed in your computer chair, her mouth twisted as if holding herself back.

“Actually, you didn’t do that.”

“What are you talking about Yuna? I saw the messages. I took the photos the night before because I wanted to upload them to an online journal platform.”

She nodded her head, wringing her fingers in her hand. “I know that, but you didn’t send them… I did.”

You stared at her, anger silently rising as you waited for her to continue. 

“I waited until you got into the shower. You know I read the entry to Namjoon, and so when you got into the shower, I used your phone and sent a message to each guy who’s name was both in the book and in your phone. I wanted you to have someone, instead of always spending your evenings at home, bored.”

“Yuna, you knew that I did not want Namjoon to know, he and Jennie had just... and I was trying to protect him, do you see what this did?!” You threw the plushie at her angrily, standing abruptly.

“I can’t believe you would invade my privacy, you could have ruined my career, if one of those messages had been sent to the wrong person, god damn it Yuna! You’ve ruined my fucking life!”

Yuna was crying, but she set the stuffed bunny back on your bed gently before she got up and headed to leave your room. Pausing at the door, her hand poised on the door knob, she turned back to face you.

“I didn’t ruin your life. You finally had a life. You’re the one running away from it now.”

With those parting words, she left your room, closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After Yuna left you, she went to her own room, where she scrolled through social media to find Jungkook. You already blamed her, though she felt like it was misplaced, but she felt like she might as well do something to help fix the situation. Finding Jungkook’s IG account from the photos you tagged him in, she followed him. When he returned the follow, she messaged him to contact her. 

It didn’t take long for him to respond, and she asked him to meet her out somewhere. Agreeing on a local park, Yuna changed her shoes and left you moping in your room, a note on the counter that she was headed out.

Sitting on the bench, it wasn’t hard to spot Jungkook. His tousled black hair peeking from under his black beanie and the familiar black jacket was easy to spot against the white snow that had recently fallen, but like a Seoul snowfall, it wouldn’t stick for long. Carrying a hot cocoa for him and herself, Yuna held it out to him before she sat down, sipping on the warm drink.

“Yuna, I will say I’m surprised you reached out to me.” Jungkook’s usually bright voice was tinged with sadness as he looked over at her.

“I have something to tell you.” Yuna started, and Jungkook’s nerves grew.

“I was the one who sent the journal entry to you. Not my sister.”

“Oh? Okay. Thank you for telling me I guess.” Jungkook took another deep pull from the drink, letting the heat fill his body as he swallowed.

“I mean, I sent it because I didn’t want her to grow old and be alone. Every night, coming home bored to drink wine with her baby sister and watch reruns on Netflix? I wanted her to fall in love. And she did. With you.”

“I don’t think so, Yuna. She wasn’t in love with me.”

“She was; she still is! She told me everything that happened. About how dating you was all fake. But I know it wasn’t. Not for her. And not for you. No one acts the way you two acted. I know my sister; when she told me what happened, I knew that she was hurt because she’s in love with you. Like, still in love with you. She just doesn’t believe you love her back.”

Yuna stared at Jungkook, watching the way her words sank in, waiting to confirm what she already knew: Jungkook was in love with you, too.

Jungkook’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “How do I convince her? That I love her back?” 

“I wish I knew Jungkook. I wish I knew. But if you don’t do something soon, I think you’ll lose her.”

——

Friday was New Year’s Eve, and you had to put up with Yuna running around like a lunatic cleaning the apartment to ring in the new year. You had finally resigned yourself to forgiving her for sending the journal entries. It was over and done with, and there was nothing more to do. Monday, you would be back at work like nothing happened, and didn’t want to go into the new year holding onto this year’s anger or sadness.

Yoongi, surprisingly, had reached out to you the day before about a party he was having to ring in the new year, and at first you didn’t want to go, but the longer you thought about it, you figured you should. Why spend the new year at home, where your sister would relentlessly tease you until she left. She had her own plans this year, going to a classmates to drink and watch the fireworks; so if you stayed home, you would be alone.

And you were tired of being alone. Sleeping in, you didn’t get up to join your sister in cleaning until later in the afternoon, going through your closet, bedroom, and bathroom.

You were scrubbing your shower when you heard the doorbell, but your sister, ever the nosey one, yelled that she would get it, so you continued cleaning, forgetting that someone had come to the door by the time you finished cleaning the bathroom. 

When you finally stopped cleaning for the day, it was close to 9 PM, so you decided to get ready for the night out at Yoongi and Hobi’s place. After about an hour and a half, you were dressed, makeup done, and ready for the party. You ventured out of your room, noticing a large blue hatbox on the kitchen counter.

“Yuna! What’s this blue box?” you yelled, and her reply carried from down the hall.

“A delivery, for you, from earlier!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you grumbled, cursing your sibling as you reached to remove the lid off of it. Inside was what looked like a photobook, a beautiful ombre of pinks and purples decorating the cover. Removing it from the box, you flip it open, noticing right away the neat handwriting that could only belong to one person. 

Sighing, you carry it to the couch, where you read the inscription he penned inside. 

“Right at this moment, I think of you.” 

Flipping through the pages, you see he’s created a scrapbook of the past month spent together. Pictures of the two of you at work, the park, each other’s places, and visiting each other’s families. Pictures of you sleeping in his arms, candids where you aren’t even aware of him taking the photos.

Each photo is vibrant, in his style of catching the light just right as it caresses your face, and you’ve never seen yourself look so beautiful. He’s scribbled little notes here and there, of what he noticed or what was happening when he snapped the camera, and you can’t help but blush when you see a photo in there of you after the two of you had sex. 

“I reach out my hand, and feel your breath. With eyes closed, before we know it, we’re together.”

Your fingers trace over the photo, where Jungkook’s face is, looking at you so lovingly as you sleep on his chest, the bed sheets from his childhood bedroom covering you both strategically so nothing indecent shows. 

The last page has a handwritten letter, not unlike the one you wrote for him all those years ago, with a tiger lily pressed inside. You looked up the meaning of the flower earlier in the day when you found the large vase while cleaning. Please love me. With shaky hands, you held the photobook and began to read.

Y/N, 

5 years ago, you thought you were in love. I can tell you with certainty that 5 years later I pray that you are, because I am so in love with you. The way you see me, I don’t think I’ve ever been seen before. My whole life I’ve been behind the camera capturing others. And somehow you have taken the camera from me and now I’m the one being captured and seen. And I love it. You make me feel like I’m not just made up of the same ingredients that make up the stars in the sky, you make me feel like the very galaxy reflected in your eyes when you look at me. You’re beautiful, and I, Jeon Jungkook, am so in love with you. When I say I’ve always loved you, that there is no start, so there can be no end: we are fated—destined; you are mine as much as I am yours. These photos are only a fraction of the way I see you, the many shades that make up who you are, how could I ever capture them all? Please know, I want to spend the rest of time trying. So in case you didn’t see it, or weren’t sure: I love you. I want to be with you. No contracts, just you, wholeheartedly as mine, and me as yours.

——

It was nearing 11 when you reached Yoongi and Hobi’s house, leaving the Uber driver with a confused look at the way you dashed out of his car. You could care less; the man you were in love with was inside that house, right now, and you would be damned to let him get away again.

Pushing through the crowd of bodies, you looked side to side, searching for the familiar black tresses, ears straining to hear his musical laugh or catch someone saying his name. Entering the living room, your eyes fell on the beer pong table, where Jimin and Taehyung were playing against Yoongi and Hobi. 

Destination set on getting to that table, you wade through the throng of people with the obligatory happy new year. Some attempted to stop to ask you how you’ve been, fill you in on the latest office gossip, or inquire about the exact relationship status of Jungkook. Those in the latter category were met with major side-eye. Plastering a fake smile on your face each time, you finally shake the last of them, jogging the last few steps until your right on the edge of the game.

“Y/N! Glad to see you!” Hobi was his typical cheerful self, greeting you with his signature smile as he watched Taehyung try and line up his shot in the cups Yoongi just re-racked.

“Hey Hobi, Happy almost New Year! Have you seen Jungkook?” you asked, skipping straight to the point.

“Um, yea, he came by earlier to drop off a few kegs for us, helped us move the furniture, but he went home. Said he wasn’t really feeling like celebrating.”

Yoongi, who had just grabbed the ping pong balls before they bounced off the table, handed one to Hobi as he gave you a pointed look.

“Yea, looked pretty heartbroken all week, if you ask me.”

“Well, no one did Yoongi. Give her a break,” Hobi answered before turning to you, “he’s probably at home. You can get there before midnight if you get an Uber quick.”

Thanking him, you threw your arms around him and Yoongi in a shared hug before waving to the other two on the far side of the table. You had someplace to be.

Outside in the quiet, you requested an Uber, happy to see one not even 2 minutes away. Thankfully, Jungkook only lived 10 minutes or so from the guys. You hoped traffic would be on your side. You knew you were cutting it close; 11:30 was approaching fast.

The ride to Jungkook’s apartment gave you too much time to think. Those 15 minutes (thanks drunk pedestrians) on the car ride over allowed the nerves to settle in, along with the doubt and fears. What if he didn’t feel that way about you anymore? What if he just wanted to bring you the photobook as a goodbye?

Shaking the thought from your head, you took a deep breath before you climbed out of the car and into the hushed cold of the last day of December. You had never shown up to his place unannounced like this, so used to trailing him into his apartment. The closed door was daunting to you, but you didn’t have much time now.

Knocking louder than you needed to due to those pesky butterflies in your stomach, what feels like an hour is only 10 seconds or so until Jungkook is standing before you. 

“Hi,” you said, breathless from the cold and from the sight of him after so many days apart.

“Hi,” he responded, looking just as mesmerized to see you at his doorstep, “uh, wanna come in?” Jungkook took a step back, giving you space to come in and you stepped forward into the welcomed warmth of his home.

The scene before you is not what you were expecting. Jungkook had been sitting in the dark, a half eaten pizza and a beer bottle on the coffee table, with his favorite blue and grey plaid blanket haphazardly cast aside on the couch; most likely from when he stood to welcome you.

Shucking off your boots, you walked into the living room, Jungkook silently trailing you.

“I—I’ve missed you.” His voice is low, as if afraid he would spook you.

“I’ve missed you too.” You turned to face him, the light from the paused Netflix show reflecting in his beautiful orbs. You took in his face, split lip mostly healed and the bruise faded along his cheek.

“I got your gift.”

“I’m glad.”

The conversation between the two of you was static, neither sure of what to do. The silence ticked on for a few more seconds before you decided to stop being a pussy.

“Did you mean it? What you said?”

“Of course I did.”

“I’m glad,” you repeated his earlier phrase, stepping closer to him. You placed your hands on his chest, solid muscles reacting to your touch as he subconsciously flexed them. “Because I love you, too.”

Rising on your tippy toes, you pressed your lips to his, your body relaxing when you heard the sigh he let out from the contact. His hands pulled you closer, deft fingers gripping you in all the right places as he deepened the kiss. He tasted faintly of pizza and beer, and smelled so strongly of his vanilla musk. You couldn’t believe how much he felt like home to you. Being in his arms felt right. 

Bending slightly, Jungkook wrapped his arms under your thighs and lifted you up, never breaking the kiss. Hoisting you up, he carried you down the hall to his room, foot kicking the door shut behind him. So turned on by his show of strength, you rolled your hips down onto what was his growing length, seeking any friction that would help ease the ache between your thighs. 

Letting out a groan, Jungkook’s hands guided your hips roughly to where he wanted you, lining up your sweet spot so you could grind on him better. Licking into his mouth, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. A slight tug exposed more of his neck, where you planted markers of your territory as you continued rolling your hips in time to his movements. 

“I want you.” The whispered words went straight to your core; hearing Jungkook’s voice break with need, need for you—you couldn’t get out of your clothes fast enough.

“Bed. Now.” You demand, and he laughs as he follows your directives, setting you down once he approached the edge of his queen sized mattress. You tug your jacket off, tossing it to the foot of his bed before peeling your shirt up over your head to reveal your bra to him. He doesn’t get to look too long; you’ve gripped the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulled them low enough to free him from it’s confines. His cock sprung free, and, licking your lips, you switch positions with him. 

With his back to the bed, you pushed him down, and he went easily. Pressing your hand to his chest, you lay him back as you bend at the waist, bringing your mouth to his leaking head. You lick the bottom of his shaft up to the slit, collecting the pre-cum with the tip of your tongue before you take the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. Under your hand, you feel his abdominal muscles contract as he lets out a moan letting you know how good you feel as you take him farther into your mouth. 

Speeding your ministrations, you hollow your cheeks as you slurp around the head, using your hands to massage the dripping spit along the exposed skin you can’t reach. His hands grip your hair creating a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face so he can watch you. And wow, does he love the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock, innocent eyes blinking coyly up at him while your mouth is stretched around him. Keep it up and he could cum too quickly in your mouth.

When your free hand traveled to his scrotum, he jumped, feeling an overwhelming sense of pleasure as his sack tensed up.

“Wait, baby, I don’t want to cum yet.” Jungkook panted, and you pop off of him with a lewd sound that filled the quiet of his room.

Tugging you towards him, he scooted back on the bed until his head was flush with the headboard. 

“Strip for me,” he urged, and you did, undoing the button on your jeans and sliding them down until you were naked from the waist down. His eyes stared pointedly at your chest and you unclasped your bra, adding it to the growing pile of clothes the two of you had made. Watching as he shed his shirt before laying back fully, kicking his sweats free from his body, you climbed onto the bed, and he directed you farther up his body until he could maneuver your thighs to either side of his face. 

“Jungkook—”

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long, baby, please.”

Giggling softly, you lowered yourself slowly and he wound his arms around your thighs until his palms were wrestling lightly on them. The slow caress as he drew patterns on your skin matched the same pattern he drew with his tongue, you realized once he had you fully seated. Gripping the headboard, you threw your head back, rolling your hips as his lips and tongue ravaged you, the sexual sounds of him eating you out creating more for him to drink down. 

Curving your back to make you hunch forward, you adjust as the pleasure builds and you see his eyes, those bright galaxies staring at you as he pleasured you to climax and you tensed as the coil in your abdomen snapped, a mix of curse words and his name pouring from your lips as he worked you through it.

Placing your hands on his sweat laced forehead, you pushed to try and pull away from the overstimulation as he let out a laugh.

Scooting yourself down his body once he released you, you fell back and to the side of his muscular thighs, trying to catch your breath. You feel him moving, a low chuckle released as his hands grasped your wrists. Pulling you up, you see he’s now seated flush to the headboard, back against the soft grey padding. He guides your hips so that you straddle him, sitting your still sopping wet cunt onto his cock. Pressed against his stomach, he can feel the warmth emanating from your opening, and groaned, wanting to be inside of you.

Pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes meet yours as he intertwines your fingers before resting your interlocked hands behind your back at the curve of your ass.

“I love you.” His voice is strong, sure and confident in the words he says as he bares more than just his body before you. “I wanted you so badly back then, I want you even more now.” He presses a kiss to your lips, causing you to grind down on him. 

He kisses down your neck, hands still holding you in position over him. “Want to be inside of you, baby.” He nips at your neck, making you gasp, and when you rock forward, he’s rocking his hips down. 

The head of his cock presses against your core, and you settle back onto it, walls stretching to accommodate his girth. The two of you move in tandem, lips once again reunited in a raunchy kiss that only serves to turn you on more, sending enough slick between your lower lips to allow him to slip further into you until he’s bottomed out, a snug fit as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. 

Releasing your hands, his large palms hold your back to pull you closer to him as you swivel your hips, rocking so the shaft slips in and out of you in short bounces. You rock, arms wrapped lazily around his neck as you play with the wet locks of hair as you ride him at your leisure, just enjoying the feel of your bodies connected as one. Chest to chest, you can feel the speed of his heart beat; it matches your own. 

“Can I go faster?” you asked, not wanting to go at a pace he wasn’t comfortable with.

“You can use me however you want, baby,” he replied, eyebrow cocked smugly as he gripped your waist tighter, “but please tell me I can cum inside.”

Nodding as you sped up, you bounced with more friction, his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit as you chased your high, fucking yourself on his formiddable cock.

“That’s it, fuck, baby, right there—” Jungkook’s moans, musical as he egged you on, brought you to your peak for the second time that night. Your walls clenched around him, and as your body froze, he took advantage of the moment to shift your bodies so you were on your back with your head to the foot of the bed. Bracing his feet on edge where his mattress met the headboard, he began to piston his hips into you, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m gonna—again—” You can barely get the words out when your third orgasm is crashing around you, legs shaking from where they’re wrapped tightly around his narrow hips. Your release makes it wetter, and your swollen walls ache to feel his cum fill you.

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby, fuck a—baby into you, fuck, I want to see you carry my—my kid,” Jungkook’s cock is drowning in your essence, and hearing him talk about kids with you causes you to tighten around him, and he’s cumming, long ropes of his hot cum filling you until it’s seeping out around him as he continues to thrust indiscriminately, velvet muscle milking him dry.

Laying skin to skin in his bed, you laugh as the alarm clock numbers alert you to the fact that you had missed the New Year by 38 minutes. 

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, eyes alight as he takes in your smile. 

“We missed New Year’s.”

“We didn’t miss it, we were simply enjoying our New Year’s kiss for longer than most.” He quipped back, fingers tracing patterns along your back. Your own nails were lightly scratching shapes into his chest as you rested your head on his shoulder. You spent the next 20 minutes of the first hour of the new year listening to him explain what happened with the camera strap, though you had already forgiven the incident. 

He wasn’t sure how Somin had the camera strap, though he suspected she stole it from his bag at the cafe. Jungkook told you about the meeting, how it helped him see that you weren’t a rebound; he was in love with you and while it was obvious to him, a part of him wanted to be sure before confessing to you. He didn’t want you to think he was rushing into things to get over his ex. He also apologized for fighting Namjoon, saying he was worried that seeing him fight would change how you viewed him, change his chances of being with you, this time for real.

“I love you, Jungkook, in case you didn’t know.”

“I love you too, in case you didn’t know.” 

“Hmm, but, I think we need to talk about children though, I think it’s a little too soon, despite our parents' ideas.” You giggled, and his cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

“It was just sex talk, we’re still just practicing, okay?”

Stretching, you roll away from his body, and he follows your body heat subconsciously, his body not wanting you far from him after almost a week of radio silence. 

“Hey, get back here, you’re mine.”

“Oh am I?” you teased, staying just out of his reach.

He pouted, accent slipping out as he moved closer to your retreating body.

“Yes, you’re mine, no rules, no contracts; just mine.”

“ ‘m all yours, baby,” you mumbled as you rubbed your nose to his in an eskimo kiss as he gathered you up in his arms, “and you’re mine.”

UPDATE (5.18.21): 1st Prologue is Out Now!

BTW, ily ⟢ summary: Taking place in the To All the Men I’ve Fucked Before (TATMIFB) AU, this pre-story is the backstory to you and Namjoon’s friendship. A year after losing your virginity to Jungkook, you meet Namjoon, who becomes your best friend… and who you want so much more with. Before you and Jungkook get it together in To All the Men I’ve Loved Before, there was BTW, ily.

Thank you all so much for reading! I plan on doing an epilogue and some drabbles to get more insight into the pasts of these characters! I love them so much, I don’t think I am ready to let go. The masterlist will be updated as more are added! TATMIFB Masterlist

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