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#make sure you wish him a happy birthday
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Ben Lambert in "Angels in Small Change (2013)"
my gift for my dear friend and mutual @feenmies
HAPPY BIRTHDAY FEENIE!!! YOU ARE THE BEST!!!!
BONUS BEN'S BACK
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hakyonah · 2 years
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ricky saying that opening night is also his birthday isn’t something that’s meant to be there casually.
it has to have a meaning later on even if it’s just gina simply wishing him happy birthday before they get on stage but something’s definitely up with that.
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Me, full of peace and love because it's Ringo's birthday!!! ✌🏻❤️🌟☮️🌈🐙🥦
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seraphdreams · 6 months
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"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MEGUMI!" | MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.
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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— synopsis. it would be so very cruel of you to not show your appreciation for your best friend, especially on his birthday.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— cw. smut, college au, reader calls him “megs”, mention of “angelcunt”, unprotected love-making, bimbo!reader / best friend!megumi, a bit of asphyxiation, megumi with a crush! fingering, and praise. mdni <3
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— word count. 1.7k, a quick read !!
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! hellooo !! it’s a real one’s birthday, this is the least i could do to celebrate. i’m trying to get back into the groove of writing again so stay tuned n ready 4 fics in the future !! sweet college au best friend megumi is always on my mind, something about a stoic but secretly in love trope .. (he’s no better than his father, sigh) .. as always, if you enjoyed this, please reblog / comment. i’ll bake u you’re favorite sweets if u do !! thank u ♡
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megumi has always been there for you. through ups and downs, taxing breakups, even the times you’d get exceedingly inebriated and ramble endlessly about your ever-growing appreciation for him — there was no denying the cordiality he’d shown throughout the many years of your friendship. sure, he could be quite cold, maybe even grumpy; but that was just the joy of megumi fushiguro.
and for that, it’d only be right to repay him.
for all of the times he would show up uninvited to your dorm with the notes of the lecture you’d fortuitously missed, blaming the absence on the absurdly quiet lull of your alarm clock, or when he’d let you have the last bite of his food, because only god knows megumi was never above tolerating you. it’d be the work of a terrible friend to let it all go unnoticed, especially on a special day like today.
“happy birthday, megs!” there you stood,
bubbly and bright as ever, in the doorway of his bedroom, clad in nothing but a tiny pink pajama set with a top reigning transparency, it barely left the skin beneath to the imagination.
he had invited you, along with yuuji and nobara, over to his dorm the previous night to keep him company after class — which led to a kugisaki-induced movie marathon, and eventually phased out into the four of you passed out on the fushiguro’s couch, hues of light omitting from the colorful rays of the forgotten television screen and onto your slumbering faces.
with megumi holding the title of competency within the friend group, it came as no shock when he’d woken up the others to send them on their merry way. all except you, of course. the light throw-over blanket clinging to your body neatly as you slept, soft snores resonating within your being aided in megumi’s decision to give you a few extra minutes to rest.
he could never interfere with your comfort.
after your unanticipated birthday wishes, it took a moment for megumi to come to, blinking away his awareness for your scantily clothed body and opting for a more stoic expression.
“thanks,” he replied, tone low and clouded with an air of vague appreciation.
“wanna know what i got you for your birthday?” your query was that of a sing-song manner as you swayed in place. megumi was used to being around absolute rays of sunshine, but you? you were different. it was as if you were the sun itself; warm and inviting yet shone luminous enough to blind onlookers. you were tooth-rottingly sweet, and as bubbly as you were naive.
matters weren’t made any better forgoing the fact that megumi had true feelings for you. it was a running gag within your friend group, jokes that itadori and nobara would make concerning the contrast between megumi’s unwelcoming behavior when it came to them, and impassive patience had times fell upon you.
in fact, obliviousness was your specialty in being ignorant to the feelings of the fushiguro. it wasn’t your fault, you truly didn’t know.
megumi responds curtly, although with a hint of sarcasm, “a break?”
you pout as you rest your head against the lacquered doorframe, reigning defeated already despite the conversation barely racking up a minute’s time. “no, silly.” the words come out as a giggle. “i got you me!”
a hint of confusion glosses over his features before it morphs into that of a neutral expression. shirtless from his shower just minutes prior, and puzzled from what your mind had conjured up this time, he questions again. “you? you got me you?”
you shake your head affirmatively as he starts up once more. “and what do i do with you?”
clear as day, your exchange took a rather suggestive turn, one that neither of you were intending. “well, you can do a lot of things with me,” now stepping into the room to close the distance between your bodies, your response is thick with an air of lust that megumi noticed seemed to come naturally for you. his heart picks up in pace from the sight of your pretty face, and even prettier eyes looking vacantly into his, as if you weren’t aware of the trap you set up for yourself.
he brushed off the slight arousal brewing up within him, chose to play it off as mirth like he usually did when it came to you. “i guess so.”
you held onto his arm, a more distinct, yet adorable look of seriousness on your features. truly, you were a little doll. “i’m for real, megs. it’s your birthday, i’ll let you do anything you want.”
yeah. you’re really going to regret this one.
the word “anything” came with free reign. and even though megumi thought of himself as anyone but a pervert, he certainly was bound to start acting like one.
“anything?” his question came out as if he was treading lightly while he moved to dig through his drawer, perhaps looking for a shirt.
you stepped back to allow him the space of rummaging, while nodding your head and confirming his suspicions. “anything.”
“let’s fuck, then.”
his tone was nonchalant, easy on your ears as his speaking voice regularly sounded, and you would have missed his request had he not straightened up to search your countenance for an answer — deadpan, as if he hadn’t said a thing.
in that moment, all of what you hadn’t noticed, no. all of what you chose to deny had finally been put into perspective.
megumi fushiguro was fucking hot.
“i mean, if that’s what you want then i don’t mind.” your response was succinct, gentle on your tongue and provided him the response he’d been aiming for.
this might be his best birthday yet.
he strode closer to you in light steps before his large, glacial hand found its place on your cheek and silken lips met yours, pulling you into a salacious kiss filled with hunger and want. the press of his tongue begging to be allotted within the slot of your lips was accepted with your own muscle dancing against his. it was dizzying, and dissimilar. for all your years of knowing megumi, you would’ve never thought up the occuring situation.
lithe fingers danced up the skin of your thighs where you part them on instinct, allowing his digits to work on their own to slip past the barrier of elastic fabric and into your little lace panties, softly drumming along the puffy nub of your clit.
“megumi,” you rasp against his lips, swirling your hips over his hand to build up the sweet friction surging from your core. the saccharine croon of his name tasted sugary like vanilla rolling off of your tongue and onto his. he was in pure bliss; ready to take everything you gave to him.
his body responded to your need, fingertips at your clit circling tightly, an action that pulled a string of mewls from you before you gasped at the intrusion of his long fingers dipping into your core. they curled upwards against your gummy walls just until they increased in pace while his thumb pivoted at your sensitive nub, and fuck! where’d he learn how to do that?
he pulled away only slightly to read your expression, the tent in his pants growing taller, tip leaking carelessly at the onsight of your face, screwed taut in pleasure — plump, glossy lips that were slick with spit and moans slipping past without prevail.
underneath him, your legs felt feeble, as if they’d fall beneath you from the surgence of pleasure. “m-megumi, wait, ‘m gonna!-“ you held onto his shoulders for leverage, your warnings of orgasm falling on deaf, distracted ears, until finally, you were a gushing mess in his palm, coating his digits in your essence.
“fuck. you’re so pretty when you cum,” in that moment, he gave you no chance to react when he gently positioned you over his dresser, pulling down your little shorts until they pooled around your knees.
“y’made me so hard, y/n. can you feel it?” he grinded himself over the plush of your ass, teasing before pulling his sweats down just enough so that his hard, throbbing and leaking, length could be free. it bobbed ever so under its weight while one hand began to pump from base to shaft to soothe the excruciating ache. once he felt satisfied in his ministrations, he lined his cock along your awaiting slit.
“a condom, megs.” your reminder came in the form of a soft lull. after all, you two were just free-spirited college students, unable to pay the consequences of spontaneous actions. “don’t have any.” with that, he sunk his cock inside to the hilt, a low groan rippling from his throat at just how tight your pussy clamped around him. it felt like fucking heaven. he could die in your cunt and be at peace.
while you adjusted to the stretch, he began to move; slow, deep strokes as if he were savoring this moment forever. who knows when he’ll be able to have the luxury to sink inside your perfect angelcunt again? you bit your lip to stave off impending moans which ultimately failed when his arms snaked around your body — one hand underneath the cloth of your shirt and pinching at your perked nipples while the other finds its place right back at your clit.
“sh-shit!” you cry out, eyes rolling and mind hazy from the pleasure. his rhythm increased gradually until he built up a vigorous pace. “i’ve been needing y-you so bad.” megumi groans along the shell of your ear. how he got so lucky as to have his dream girl engulfed around his cock, he doesn’t know. all he’s aware of was the tightening of his abdomen, signaling his own impending orgasm.
white hot pleasure replace all feeling in your body, counting down its time until the familiar numbness washed over you in euphoria. a pitchy moan sounded from your lips and an even whorish whimper when the warmth from spurts of his cum coated your insides.
after what felt like a minute of the two of you recollecting your breaths, megumi finally pulled out, shuddering at the added stimulation at his oversensitive cock.
he leaned your head back to meet his lust-filled gaze; calmness of his deep navy orbs now deepened with sin. megumi pressed gentle kisses all over your face while his hands took purchase at your now, exposed, neck and squeezed tight enough to keep you lightheaded.
“you’re the best birthday present.”
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sinofwriting · 12 days
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4 plus 1 - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)
Words: 1,499 Summary: Four times Logan celebrated mothers day and the first time he celebrated fathers day (part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse)
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Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund | I ❤️ MILFS verse
One
The first time Logan celebrated Mother’s Day, he was five. His grandpa had stolen him away from his momma, which had made him pout, but then he had crouched down in front of him and quietly asked if he wanted to buy his momma a present for Mother's Day.
His grandpa, whenever he told the story, always liked to joke that he was surprised that Logan’s head hadn’t fallen off with how hard he had nodded yes.
He had gotten taken to the store where Logan picked out a card that apparently said world’s best mom on it, which had made his grandpa grumble that he was way too young for his daughter to be a mom before letting him pick out a big bouquet of flowers.
Scrambling out of the car and into the house, Logan struggled to hold the flowers that were nearly bigger than him and the card, just barely able to see the way his momma’s jaw had dropped seeing him and the ways tears came to her eyes when he cheerfully wished her a happy momma’s day.
Two
In 2014, Logan got to celebrate mother’s days twice for the first time. His momma not even knowing or realizing that England celebrated it on a completely different day, her bemused expression at him giving her candy and a card staying in his mind.
She had still hugged him tight, pressing kisses all over his face and telling him she was the best son, which had made him squirm, telling her that she was the best momma, the two going back and forth until Logan gave up because she had started to tickle him and his stomach ached from laughing.
Three
Logan stares at the display in front of him, trying not to feel awkward with the eyes boring into him.
“Dude, these are like fifteen grand.” Oscar hisses under his breath. “Yeah and none of them are the one.” He hisses back, giving the employee a polite smile. “Do you have anything else?” Their eyes narrow a little, but they nod, an emotionless smile on their face. “Of course, Sir. Our next display.”
Following them over to the next display, his eyes immediately land on a necklace and he instantly points at it. “That one. I’ll take that one, please.” “Are you sure?” He frowns, “Yes. I’m sure.”
He turns to Oscar as they start to open the case. “Momma is gonna love that one.” “Do you have the money for that?” “Of course.” Oscar’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure? Because if those were twenty thousand, I can’t imagine how much these will be.” Logan nods, shrugging. “Yeah. I’ve got money.”
The clearing of a throat makes Logan turn back around, the necklace is sitting on the counter in its opened box.
“This necklace is forty thousand pounds.” Logan hears Oscar taking in a sharp breath of air, but Logan is already reaching for his wallet. “I’ll take it. And no gift wrap please.” They blink at him before nodding. “Of course.”
Oscar hits his arm when they disappear with the necklace behind a curtain.
“Are you kidding me? Forty thousand pounds for a necklace? Pan is going to kill you! Mother's Day gift or not!” Logan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m eighteen now and it’s my money. Momma can’t kill me for buying her this. Besides, I haven’t given her a gift under a thousand dollars since I was like six. And she’ll love that necklace.” Oscar looks at him in disbelief, shaking his head. “Okay, it is way too easy to forget that Harry is a billionaire and by proxy you are.” “Something tells me you don’t want to know how much your birthday present was.” “What does that mean?” Logan smiles at Oscar, shrugging. “Logan, what does that mean?”
Four
“Can I help with anything?” Logan jumps at the sound of Max’s voice, nearly banging his head into the opened cupboard door if not for Max, quickly yanking him back. “Shit.” He curses, turning Logan around and running a hand over his forehead and head, checking for bumps. “You okay?” “I’m okay. You just scared me.” He chuckles. “Help with what?” Max eyes him for a moment. “Mother's Day. I know that it’s in between Miami and Imola for you guys, and I didn’t know if you wanted help with anything.” “Oh.”
Logan looks at the older man, he doesn’t need any help with Mother's Day. Already has his momma’s gift sitting in his closet, but Max is asking if he can help. Max cares about their relationship, so he finds himself nodding.
“Actually yeah.” Max’s whole face lights up. “What can I do?” Logan quickly says goodbye to his momma’s Christmas gift, but he guesses that what was supposed to be her Mother's Day can just be her Christmas gift. “There’s this watch she likes, but there’s maybe ten available in the world right now.” He starts to tell Max.
Plus One
Logan has never had a father. And as much as he loves his grandpa, he wasn’t really a father figure for him. The closest he got was maybe Oscar’s dad, but even then he never really saw him enough for that. Max though… Max feels like his dad.
He cares about him, and not just because he’s dating his mom. He talks to Logan, checks in on him, before the first session of every day, Max always ducks into the Williams garage to hug him. He brings him water every time he does media, even when he isn’t scheduled for media for a few hours.
It hasn’t yet been a year, but Logan already can tell he’s fighting a losing battle of not just calling Max his dad. And he knows that Max hasn’t let himself think of himself like that. He’s heard him call him his kid a hundred times, but never once has he called himself Logan’s parent or dad. Always respecting the relationship between his mom and him and the boundaries that Logan has set.
But Logan wants Max to call himself Logan’s dad. Wants to call Max dad to his face and not just to Oscar when he’s too tired to filter or to the media to make the journalists go a little crazy.
So he finds himself laying on the couch, head in his momma’s lap as she runs her fingers through his hair.
“Can we talk?” “Always.” His lips quirk up a bit at the quick response. “It’s about Max.” Her fingers still for just a second before resuming. “What about Max?” Her voice is measured, smooth, and it gives Logan the courage to say the next words. “I want to call Max dad.” His voice goes quiet. “I want him to be my dad.” “Oh, baby.” And her voice breaks around the words.
He sits up to look at her. “Are you mad?” “No.” She smiles, reaching forward to cup his face. “No, baby. Not at all. I’m happy. I’m so happy.” “So, it’s okay?” She laughs, her free hand brushing away her tears. “Logan, you can call anyone you want dad, that’s not my choice, that’s yours.” “Do you think he’ll be okay with it? I want to do it on Father's Day. Give him a card too.” “I think Max will be over the moon.”
A week later, Logan shuffles into the living room, a breakfast tray in his hands, where Max is sitting, watching the recap for Le Mans so far.
“Hi.” He greets. Max smiles at him, “You didn’t need to bring me breakfast.” He shakes his head, stopping Max from getting up. “I wanted to. It’s a special day.” “I mean, Le Mans isn’t this kind of special.” Logan huffs out a laugh, handing over the tray to Max, who places it on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to him.
“Get enough sleep?” Logan nods, running a hand through his hair, the other clutching at the card he has for Max. “Wasn’t too bad. I actually have something else for you, because y’know special day.” Max’s eyebrows raise and Logan can feel nerves fill him. “I still have no idea what you are talking about.” He shrugs and after a moment he passes over the card, carefully watching Max’s face.
Max looks delighted at getting handed the card, but Logan can see the moment he realizes what kind of card it is. His eyes going wide, his whole body stilling. The room would be quiet if not for the Le Mans highlights playing.
The older man carefully opens it up after a long moment, his breath catching as he reads the written words from Logan.
“Logan,” he starts, and his voice is thick. “Happy Father's Day, dad.” Logan speaks before he can say anything else. “Come here.” He finishes, opening his arms, and Logan dives into them. “I love you so much, kid. So fucking much. I’m gonna be the best dad for you.” “You already are.”
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yawnderu · 8 months
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Birthday Boy — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
content: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff.
"Hey, big guy." You greet, pushing past him while holding a cake on your arms, setting it down on his desk. He simply gives you a confused look, eyebrows raising under the balaclava, closing the door hesitantly.
"Fucking hell." He mutters softly, arms crossing as he rests his back against the wall, his behemoth frame looking down at you as you steal a lighter from his desk, lighting the candles.
"I know you said you don't do birthdays but I just thought you deserve to have a day for yourself, so I kind of... gave you a birthday, I guess." Your embarrassment grows the more he stares you down, a bashful smile growing on your face when he says nothing. Your attention is grabbed by a deep chuckle coming out of him, shaking his head before he walks over to you, skull gloved fingers gently flicking your forehead.
"Why?" Is all he can ask, curiosity tainting his tone before he lets out a soft groan, looking down at the cake decorated with a messily written "Happy Birthday, Simon" and awfully drawn skulls all over. He wouldn't admit it, but he finds it even more charming.
"Just because." You reply shortly, hands making contact with the thin fabric of his black compression shirt, gently holding him by the biceps, guiding him to a chair in front of his desk where the cake was. He lets you drag him without any complaints.
"I'm gonna sing ya happy birthday, okay?" Your words are met with another groan, his elbows going to the table, face resting on his hands as if this situation is stressing him out. He eventually nods his head, looking up at you.
"Yeah, yeah." He mumbles, the fire from the candles making his eyes stand out even more in the dim room, the dark brown now a sweet honey color, showing you just how dilated his pupils are as he looks at you. You sing him happy birthday, making a small show out of it with claps and an overly cheery voice, dragging groan after groan out of him, the corners of his eyes creasing as he tries his best to suppress the smile tugging at his lips.
"Make a wish and blow the candles." You encourage after you're done singing, hands gently massaging his sore shoulders as you excitedly wait for him to comply. And he does, hesitantly getting closer to the cake and not doing anything for a few seconds before blowing the candles. A laugh of pure relief escapes your lips once the candles are off, tapping his shoulders gently before letting go.
"Good man. I made the cake, y'know?" You start cutting the cake, making sure to cut an extra big piece for him— with what little he has told you about himself, you can tell it's been a while since he got celebrated— If it even happened at all.
"I can tell." He replies teasingly, tone full of humor as he gets up and narrowly misses a punch thrown his way. He can't help but let out a small laugh, getting into a playful fighting position, pretending to throw a few punches your way and making a show out of making sound effects for each one. None of his punches connect, of course, but you use the opening he left to smear a little bit of frosting on his arm, making him groan loudly.
"Bloody hell." He grumbles, the cheeky smile you shoot him making him playfully roll his eyes. He eventually settles down, sitting in bed and lifting his balaclava halfway, tasting the sweet treat. He takes his time to savor it, nodding his head in approval as he looks down at you before digging in again.
" 'S good." He praises after another bite, attention now fully on the piece of chocolate cake on his plastic plate. You take this moment to admire the exposed half of his face— his soft jawline and thin pink lips, hints of a stubble covering his cheek and chin, a little bit of his eyeblack tainting his cheeks as well. You feel like a Victorian man seeing ankles, grasping at straws just to admire him.
He gives you a side eye and you look back down at your plate, starting to taste the cake as well, as if you weren't just staring at him like an infatuated hyena. You're too deep in thought to even realize his eyes are on you until you feel his finger smearing frosting on your nose, a laugh of pure disbelief escaping your lips.
"You little cunt—"
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nariism · 8 months
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ೃ⁀➷ WHERE THE HEART LIES ˚ ༘♡
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a/n: fluff, pining, childhood friends to lovers, reader was in the same orphanage as wriothesley when they were kids, mild codependency (?)
happy wishing everyone! ≧◡≦
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Amongst the hundreds of books stored in the Duke's office, none hold a place in his heart quite like the dusty old atlas you gave him when you were children.
It's old and worn, something aged with the faint scent of Tidalga wafting as the pages turn. To an outsider, the atlas almost looks like garbage, or rather, exactly what it is—the only crappy book in the entire vintage shop that you could afford with your terrible allowance.
He doesn't see it that way.
It's a precious commodity to him, something he holds in high regard (despite the way he's glued the spine together on nearly a dozen occasions with the amount of times he's flipped through it).
Wriothesley is not a sentimental man. Growing up the way he did taught him not to grow too attached to material belongings.
There are few things in the world he would consider treasures: his boxing gloves, for one, though that's a given. His growing tea collection that originally started as a treat he would spend coupons on, but somehow evolved into a hobby.
And lastly, but perhaps most importantly, the map of Teyvat you gave him in the orphanage you came from. Because it wasn't only a birthday gift, it was something infinitely more meaningful than that.
He remembers that birthday fondly: he was twelve and you were ten. You'd snuck into his room beyond curfew and lights out, sheltered yourself under his blanket, and shoved the poorly packaged gift bag into his hands.
The two of you spent the entire night going through the pages, amazed at how giant the world truly was outside the confines of your orphanage—imagined how freeing it would be to explore it with nothing but your pair of feet and each other.
"One day," you breathed with excitement bubbling in your voice, "We'll leave this place and travel all across Teyvat."
It wasn't just a promise to see the world. It was a promise to see it together.
For a boy who had nothing at all, what you offered him was like placing the universe itself in his hands. And even at twelve years old, with you and that book sitting between his legs and a blanket thrown over his body, he knew he'd found a dream.
The older he got, the more he clung to that. 
You were the one he came back to when he was lost. The one who made the orphanage a home. The one who gave him a raggedy atlas of the world and whispered purpose into him.
Something to cherish. Something to protect. Something to love in this world when he had little to spare.
Though time had changed everything in his life, he still found it hard to abandon the welded pieces of your conjoined hearts.
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Unlike Wriothesley, you had chosen to return to the surface after you finished serving your sentence.
It was lonelier beneath the crushing pressure of the sea without you. He made sure you knew that, too, always bringing it up whenever you came by to visit in the most nonchalant ways.
The Fortress of Meropide was a home both of you had discovered after years of being without one. "Come home already," he used to complain when he was still just a regular inmate and you were dropping by with a care package. "I miss you."
Nowadays, he made certain you understood the gap in his heart without you by other means. Like, say, when he would invite you personally to his office for a cup of tea and some cake, which was a rare treat you missed out on as kids.
Once, you called him out for attempting to bribe you back down into the iron fortress which he, of course, denied with his chest. Still, you never failed to make the trip down despite your outspoken disinterest in being back in the prison, and his weak offer of sweets since you now worked at one of the most prestigious bakeries in the city.
You had initially greeted him this time with your hands all over him, arms wrapped so tightly around his neck in a hug that he could barely breathe. Sweet smiles and kisses pressed to his cheeks and fingers pinching his nose—every action endearing and a remnant of your childhood spent together.
Now, you're seething in the office at his simple question: how are things on the surface?
"... That's when I turned to Lady Furina and, get this, she somehow ate every pastry I'd brought in a matter of seconds!" You huff, pacing back and forth in front of Wriothesley's desk while you rant about your latest visit with the Archon.
Furina was often in your schedule in one way or another, and almost always she wanted you to bring along sweets from the shop you worked at.
Wriothesley finds humour in your woes, following you around in your pacing with his arms folded over his chest.
"You know, you could just show up to your audiences with her without treats."
"She would call high treason and toss me back in prison!"
The Duke just snorts, earning him a well-deserved glare. Even with the pull of your lips into a thin line and the narrowing of your eyes, he thinks you look like a breathing angel under the warm orange light of the office.
There was nothing in the world you could do that would make him stop loving you. Not even glaring daggers at him like he's your mortal enemy.
"You're exaggerating," he hums, trailing behind you once again as you pace around the desk. 
"No, I'm not. She's absolutely crazy. She's insane—!"
He nearly bumps into your back when you suddenly halt in your steps, attention stolen from the conversation. The hands that were flailing around in the air to animate your anguish drop to your sides.
Wriothesley peers curiously over your shoulder at what has caused you to stop so abruptly.
Oh. Oh, Archons. He can sense the heat rising to his ears.
He feels as though he's been spotted in vulnerability, even though that isn't at all what has happened and that you would be the last person to judge him even if he was.
But he feels seen. Caught in the act of sentimentality just because you've picked out the book you gave him all those years ago when all you had was each other.
"You still have this?" You gawk, pulling the atlas from its prestigious position on his bookshelf. It's in a spot that he can always see as soon as he enters the room—in his direct line of sight, he has a part of you with him.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Well, I just thought..." You consider the words for a moment, tasting them in your mouth before admitting embarrassingly, "I just thought you'd have thrown it out for a newer atlas. You know this is out of date, right? Half the oasis in Sumeru is covered in sand now."
"Why would I ever throw it out?"
"It's old," you lament again.
"And?"
"And... you can't even use it?" Your statement comes out more as a question and he can't help but roll his eyes.
"I can still use it," he insists.
You raise a brow, slotting the book back into its regular spot. "Good luck. When are you ever going to have time to do that, oh great and powerful Lord of the Fortress of Meropide?"
He ignores your little jab, as he's gotten so good at throughout his life. There's a sense of familiarity that rises in his chest, a strange nostalgia that drives him to open his mouth once more.
"Actually, about that..."
You turn to look at him again, hand coming up to brush the hair from his eyes. You always used to scold him for not taming it better. Now it seems permanently stuck as a fluffy mess.
"What is it?"
Your fingers graze his skin and he falls apart on the spot, feeling as though you had just tipped him over the edge of the cliff he's been too afraid to dive off of.
His hand catches yours, holding it just beside his cheek for a moment before lowering it to his side and tugging you just a little closer.
If he didn't ask now, would he ever?
"Let's leave this place," he murmurs, reciting the dream you promised him when he was twelve years old. "Let's travel all across Teyvat."
The silence that follows is so loud that it makes his ears ring. For a moment he falters, thinking he may have misread the situation and in turn whatever feelings he thought you may have harboured for him.
But then you take a daring step forward, nearly flush against his body. There's a look of wonder in your eyes that makes his heart race.
"Just you and me?"
"Just you and me." Just us.
There's a heavy implication behind that and you both know it. More than a proposal to chase a dream of bygone days, it's starting to sound like a confession. In his own roundabout ways, of course.
He can see the hitching of your breath, the subtle widening of your eyes, and all he wants to do is laugh at how seriously adorable you look.
"And what about the Fortress?"
"People here are less problematic nowadays than you may think."
"Won't the paperwork back up?"
"I can deal with it whenever I come back."
"Why me?"
Another silence.
"You ask too many questions," he says quietly, dodging your interrogation. In reality, he already has an answer. It's instantaneous, resting comfortably in his mouth but never leaving.
Why would it ever be anyone else?
He's having trouble focusing on anything right now with your chests so close together and his thumb running along your knuckles.
"Wriothesley," you say his name and it sounds like honey, the sweetest thing in all of Teyvat. And the look you're giving him, so touched and melting into nothing but a smiling mess—he isn't sure his heart can handle this. "I can't believe you remembered that."
"You kiddin'?" He laughs, slowly closing the distance between you. "It's all I've thought about my whole life."
He watches you carefully as you swallow down the lump in your throat. Your hand squeezes his and that's when he knows he's got you. You kiss him and he can feel the curve of your lips, the ever growing smile on your face meeting his. His knees are on the verge of buckling by the time you pull away.
"Surely you'll miss this place in your absence. This is your home now, isn't it?" You tease.
"Well, you know what they say." He gives you a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle. "Home is where the heart is."
It didn't matter if you were braving a sandstorm or the rainforest or the depths of the sea. 
Wherever you were, you would be his dream. You would be his home, too—just as you always had been for as long as he could remember.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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astonmartinii · 9 months
Text
kiss it better | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x first responder!reader when oscar crashes into the barrier at monza, he thinks he sees his guardian angel, in reality he's just got a concussion and that's a first responder, but it's the thought that counts.
f1
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tagged: oscarpiastri
f1: woah. huge shunt for oscar piastri in turn three. the australian was pulled out of the car by first responders and is getting treatment. red flag for now.
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user1: omg like my breath was completely gone, i hope oscar is okay
user2: holy shit that's the worst crash i've ever seen i'm so glad they aren't replaying it
user3: i tuned in late and i knew as soon as they didn't replay it it had to be bad
user4: thank the lord for the first responders, they were so fast i hope oscar is good
user5: i'm gonna need netflix to take the backseat on this one i can't take the dramatic editing this is already stressful enough
user6: the grosjean crash was bad enough, i can't deal with it with oscar
user7: are there any updates yet?
user8: not yet.
user9: i'm sat in the grandstand right where this was and it was literally so scary, the first responders literally had to jump on the car
user10: so so lucky that they were stationed so close to where he crashed
oscarpiastri
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tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: first of all i'd like to thank everyone for their support and well wishes, i really appreciate it. it's actually thanks to y/n and the rest of the first responders that i'm back on my feet as fast as i am. big thank you to y/n for sacrificing her ability to shower comfortably to help me out of the car and avoid the flames, i am eternally grateful and mama piastri would like you over for dinner to thank you.
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user9: i'm so so happy he's okay, that crash was so scary
landonorris: glad to hear you're okay mate !
oscarpiastri: you can't get rid of me that easily norris
landonorris: woah, no joking about dying when you've only been discharged for 24 hours
oscarpiastri: sorry, skipped over that one in my contract
danielricciardo: make sure you always read that mclaren contract carefully
user11: thank you y/n for your service
user12: for real she put her leg on the line for oscar she needs a raise
yourusername: it was my pleasure to do my job and help you out oscar. and i'll always take up an offer for a mum's dinner
oscarpiastri: she'll be very happy to hear that
yourusername: text me the details and i'll be there
user13: it's so crazy to me how f1 drivers just get up and walk out of crashes like that
user14: no for real how is the medic more injured than him 😭
logansargent: you are so lucky there were no cameras when you were on painkillers cause you were talking some shit
oscarpiastri: please don't remind me
logansargent: just because there weren't cameras in the room doesn't mean i didn't record you, i look forward to my birthday present this year
oscarpiastri: you wouldn't
logansargent: you wanna bet?
user15: so like how bad do we think what oscar said was?
user16: and how much do we need to pay logan to release it?
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mclaren
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tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri & yourusername
mclaren: after her heroics in the first half of the season, y/n finally took oscar up and is a guest of mclaren this weekend. as a medic, y/n is one of the most important aspects of a race weekend, and it's an honour to host her!
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user17: did oscar write this caption? that man was BLUSHING in the fan questions video
user18: awwww mama piastri is also there this weekend and in a load of the pictures in the paddock they stuck together
oscarpiastri: so happy to see you again y/n !!
yourusername: my pleasure, oscar. racing is a lot more fun from the garage
oscarpiastri: i'll try my best not to crash this time, i know my favourite medic isn't on duty
yourusername: oh wow what a title, i'll wear it with pride
user19: they're such dorks i love them so much
landonorris: can someone get me some popcorn, i'm enjoying watching oscar squirm and blush all weekend
oscarpiastri: i am NOT !!
landonorris: don't worry i'm sure y/n finds it cute
oscarpiastri: can you please STOP !!
yourusername: not to prove lando right but it is very cute
user20: lando is taking his big brother role a bit too far
alexalbon: you were right @logansargent this is fun to watch
logansargent: oh just you wait until you find out the stuff he was saying in hospital
oscarpiastri: please stop telling people
alexalbon: from what i heard she was right there @yourusername what did he say logan is being a good friend (for now)
yourusername: considering i literally fried my leg getting him out i don't remember most of that day
alexalbon: UGH you people are no help
yourusername: ???
oscarpiastri: ???
yourusername
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tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: no pulling this one out of a burning wreck this weekend 👍
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user21: omg oscar's smile ??? i am faint
landonorris: do i mean nothing to you?
yourusername: i am literally oscar's guest let me rep him in peace
landonorris: booooooo if you're going to wear his number might as well ask him out while you're at it
yourusername: mind your business, i know what i'm doing
user22: Y/N?????????
oscarpiastri: i see you know my angles already, can you come every weekend?
yourusername: i'd love to but i have a lil thing called a job :(
oscarpiastri: boring, can't you be my full time personal photographer?
landonorris: and his girlfriend?
oscarpiastri: do you mind?
landonorris: what? i'm just trying to help
oscarpiastri: you are MEDDLING
yourusername: you guys done?
oscarpiastri: yes
landonorris: NO
user23: lando is a no 1 y/n x oscar shipper he's so real
user24: y/n is so much stronger than me i'd hand in my notice right this second
yourusername: believe me i would if i could
landonorris: to both options?
oscarpiastri: LANDO STOP
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri and 19,056 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: happy to be your guardian angel baby x
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user29: new f1 parents just entered the chat
landonorris: i'm taking responsibility for this happening, you’re welcome
yourusername: stop right there buddy, this was all ME
oscarpiastri: nuh uh it was ME
yourusername: i asked YOU out?
oscarpiastri: technically yes, but i asked you to dinner first
yourusername: actually, if i remember correctly that was your mum
oscarpiastri: FINE you asked me out and i'm very glad you did and you ARE my guardian angel and you ARE way out of my league
landonorris: you said it i didn't
oscarpiastri: LANDO LET ME FLIRT IN PEACE YOU NUISANCE
landonorris: woah, you've changed bro
yourusername: are we finished boys?
landonorris: yes, and for real i am very happy for you guys
user30: lando saying he made this happen is the most lando thing ever
logansargent: can you tell him to stop ignoring me now?
yourusername: soz under strict rules not to fraternize with a traitor
logansargent: I'M SORRY BUT I CAN'T HANDLE SPICE
user31: at least logan is self-aware
oscarpiastri
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tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: sometimes all you need to do is flip an f1 car into a barrier and burst into flames to meet the love of your life (and give her third degree burns)
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user32: OSCAR WITH A BACKWARDS CAP TEACHING HER TENNIS SOMEONE CALL 911 I AM NOT OKAY
landonorris: okay we get it now you guys are cute
yourusername: for someone who was 'the reason we got together' you've changed your tune
landonorris: yes i am glad you have each other but that doesn't change the fact that i am LONELY and don't need to see gross couple stuff
oscarpiastri: you poor baby
landonorris: NO SYMPATHY?
oscarpiastri: i'm gonna cite all of your tomfoolery in the other comment sections
landonorris: okay fair
user33: okay but can we promise to never have a crash like that again?
yourusername: agreed
aussiegrit: happy for you kid
oscarpiastri: thank you mark :)
yourusername: so this is mark... hi?
aussiegrit: don't worry i've heard nothing but wonderful things about you, i look forward to meeting you at the next race
user34: y/n already has all of the approval oh wow
yourusername: i love you dummy (never do that again or i'll never talk to you again)
oscarpiastri: you got it, wins only from now on 🫡
yourusername: ur the champion in my heart
oscarpiastri: 🧡 🧡 🧡
logansargaent
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 304,788 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri
logansargeant: public shaming is good sometimes. though now i third wheel with only a fish by my side
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user35: i am SCREAMING
yourusername: oh florida boy, your time will come (don't put that fish pic on your tinder, i know you want to)
logansargeant: girls love fish?
yourusername: trust me they don't
logansargeant: is this just because oscar is bad at fishing?
yourusername: DELETE IT FROM YOUR TINDER PROFILE NOW OR THIRD WHEEL FOREVER
user36: what is going on here?
alexalbon: god logan this is tragic, how did you expose him and end up with a fish as your date
logansargeant: but is the size of the fish not impressive?
alexalbon: no, take y/n's advice
oscarpiastri: fine, you're forgiven. only because y/n found it cute, if she found it weird it would be you found at the bottom of a lake
logansargeant: ???????????? there was a chilli oscar
oscarpiastri: stop hiding behind your american passport, i'd eat that chilli for you
logansargeant: but it all worked out?
oscarpiastri: thankfully for you
yourusername: is it bad that this is kinda sexy?
logansargeant: he threatened to murder me?
yourusername: he's so protective 🫶
oscarpiastri: hehehehe thanks babe x
logansargeant: i give up.
note: WOAH two in one night? i am on a roll. anyhow, do enjoy, i love oscar so much so glad he extended !! xx
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chilumi-shipper · 1 year
Text
From Me, For You
Childe x GN!Reader / Alhaitham x GN!Reader
Summary: You love creating something special for them, it's your love language to say the least, it's the way you show love for them. But at some point, it seems like they stopped caring for the things you make, and in a moment where the stress was getting to them, they even said something so hurtful about your favorite thing to do for them.
Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt with Comfort, Crying, Childe coming home with blood covering him, Hurtful Comments
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Childe
Your relationship with him is... surprising, to say the least.
You're just a baker in Liyue that happened to sell one of the best Shezhnayan pastries that a certain homesick Harbinger was really craving. One thing led to another, and now you're in love and in a relationship with a Fatui Harbinger.
It's not like you didn't try your damn hardest not to fall for his charms, but seeing him eat the pastries you make and jokingly sob about his home, with the pastry's filling staining the corners of his lip, it just touched your heart.
But you forgot for a bit... he's a Harbinger...
He's not always gonna be the Ajax that taste test your baked goods every other day and would give the biggest smile with the usual comment of "Everything is perfect! You're perfect!"
And that's increasingly becoming more prominent.
You looked at the Shezhnayan baking book intently, making sure you follow the way of making a local pastry filling to a T. This is very important to you, your boyfriend's birthday is just around the corner, and you really really wanted to give him a taste of home since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his home nation.
You have to make sure to not screw up, so you're practicing early on.
The sound of your front door opening perked your ears up, making you put down the bowl of filling you were working on and skip on to your living room.
"Jax!" You affectionately called for him before you could even see him clearly.
The sight that greeted you, however, promptly stopped you from jumping at him for a hug.
Blood...
Whether his or someone else's, it mortified you. You were speechless.
"What...?" Childe scoffed at the sight of your shocked expression. "This is what being a Harbinger is." He looked down at his soiled clothes, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You should get used to this, babe."
The usual warmth of his presence in your house changed into an atmosphere that made you sick to the stomach.
"Please..." You started, your heart beating rapidly and your voice laced with disbelief. "Wash up... I..." After such a sight, could you really ask him to taste test one of your many endeavors in baking again?
This man... this Harbinger... he wasn't the Ajax you wished to see. But that's still him, just not the version he made you become privy to.
However, after so many days and nights that he showed up like... that, you got used to it, got used to the slow uprising of a worse version of him, the version of him that didn't give a fuck about what brought you together in the first place, the version of him that no longer accepted welcoming hugs and kisses, the version of him that made you feel so... worthless.
"Are you baking again? I know it's your job and all, but could you like... just not bring it home?" The ginger said that one time, rather hypocritically considering that he brought that terrible attitude from his job to your home.
"I'm working on something important..." You excused his rather hurtful words, you were rather sensitive when someone mentions something negative to you about the hobby that made you so happy. "Can you try it and tell me what you think?"
"Not in the mood." You knew that he was rather tired from taking care of something for his job, but that dismissive tone made your heart ache... and just when you think you've finally perfected his childhood favorite treat.
A moment of silence fills the room before a quiet "Please..." escapes you in a very hesitant tone. You worked so hard... finding an actual Snezhnayan baking book with local recipes, practicing over and over to make it perfect, even making sure to add your own little touch that compliments the taste.
Maybe you shouldn't have said that, otherwise, he wouldn't have stood up from the couch to face your smaller figure holding onto the tray of baked goods, looking up at his looming figure.
"You know, Y/N..." Your breathing already became heavy at the cold call of your name. "There are so many more useful things you could do than bake all day. This..." A gasp escaped your mouth when he grabbed the tray from your hands and threw it down on the kitchen island.
"This is just worthless."
Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, and you could no longer hold in the sob in your throat, as you started crying pathetically right in front of him. You whimpered as you tried to control your falling tears and your harsh breathing.
You couldn't say anything back, your cheeks and nose only reddening at the rapid emotion that's escaping you. No longer being able to handle being right in front of him, you ran up to your room, closing the door and face planting on the bed, muffling your cries with the sheets.
Back downstairs, Childe was still processing everything.
"There's nothing to process, you are a dick." His inner self told him, and he completely agrees as he sighs, dragging his fingers along his ginger hair in frustration in himself.
Why did he do that? Why did he say those hurtful things? Why did he treat you like you were one of his targets that he was assigned to manipulate?
Work got to him, it has been for weeks, but it was no excuse. He brought a monster he couldn't control into your house, and now... you were hurt.
His blue eyes darted to the pastries he haphazardly threw on the counter, most were still on the tray, in a mess and no longer in a firm order in which you like to arranger your treats.
A realization hit him... they look a lot like...
Childe then remembered the look on your face when you whispered a plea. Your eyes were hopeful when he stood up, and then your body shook when you realized he wasn't intending on tasting anything.
A memory flashed in his mind, even intensifying when he picked up a treat and bit into it, a sweet, warm filling coating the inside of his mouth. It was delicious... and just like in your Y/N way, everything you make made him feel better.
His senses getting better meant the pit in his stomach got worse, the regret of going off on you consuming him more and more.
He then hurried up to your room, gently opening your door to not startle you. His heart broke at the sight of you, your face buried into your pillows, your shoulders shaking and indicating that you're crying still. He knows that after what he did, he has no right to even feel hurt at the sight of you... but he loves you! And he knows he hasn't been showing it.
Without a word, without turning around to face him, you spoke. "P-please... L-le-leave me a-alone." Your words were muffled, and you were stuttering due to the sobs you still couldn't control.
"Baby, I... I'm so sorry..." Childe knew that those words could never be enough to make you feel better, but he at least needed a chance to say his piece, even though he may not deserve it. "Work has been... it's been making me like this... but, I know I can't use that as an excuse..."
"I've been a prick..." You didn't respond to him, but your sobs did die down to little sniffles. "And I don't deserve someone like you..."
"You just made the perfect replica of one of my favorite treats, and you probably did so much for this. Archons, babe, you're amazing. And so so caring." Ajax felt tears starting to form, his vision getting cloudy as his eyes water. If you forced him to leave, he would, but he wanted to pour everything in his heart for you out, and finally finally let out the emotion he had to keep in due to his job.
"I love you so much, Y/N... for being such an amazing person that lit up my life." He walked closer to you, prompting to sit on the bed beside you. Still, you give no response. "And the fact that you love me... that... you loved me...."
"I'm so honored that you even let me be your taste tester." The ginger chuckled a bit, reveling in the sweet memory.
"And I can't fucking believe that I just hurt you like that. I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." Finally, the tears in his eyes fell, and his voice broke when he spoke.
He wasn't use to fear, but at that moment, he truly felt the fear of you rejecting him.
After a few seconds, you turned to him, and he felt even more guilty to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.
"C-Couch..." You whispered while pointing at him, making the ginger tilt his head in confusion. "S-Sleep on the couch." You stuttered out, and Childe immediately nodded, accepting your statement.
"A-And no more hugs and kisses, no p-pastries either." You firmly stated (as firm as your sniffly state could say at least). "For a month."
"Okay.... Yes, understood!" Childe wiped the tears on his face, answering you with determination. If that's what it took for you to forgive him, he's gonna do it with ease.
"And no coming home with b-blood on you. Please..." He got off the bed to get on his knees in front of you.
"I promise..." With many of his promises, he had an instinct to kiss your forehead as a reassurance, but you avoided his hand before he could hold your head to go in to press a kiss.
"Wait a month." You let out a strained giggle, and he smiled at how sweet it was despite his lips tingling in the anticipation of a kiss.
The whole no hugs and kisses is gonna be hard, and the no pastries means that he's not gonna get a taste of your love for an entire month!
But he will persevere, just for you.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Alhaitham
You have a knack for crafting little momentos and preserving memories by creatively incorporating moments into the trinkets that you make.
It's your favorite hobby! And you're rather proud that you can make such cute little things that don't look tacky.
Kaveh was actually pleased the very first time Alhaitham came home with a decor you made, an embroidery of an irritated dendro slime reading a thick book that he can hang on a wall. You presented it to him with all smiles, saying that that was how you saw him the first time you saw him in the House of Deana.
"Finally! You actually got something to hang up that doesn't embody your atrocious taste!" Kaveh was enthusiastic, yet still managed to diss the gray haired scholar while giving out a compliment.
The first thing you ever made for him was that embroidery. And Archon's did your heart flutter and leaped with joy when he actually accepted it. What you were expecting was a comment from him like "I think it's silly to represent me with a slime. I would say that my IQ level is much higher than those elemental lifeforms."
You were both just acquaintances when you gave him that gift, but that sparked something between you. You were smart, creative, and didn't speak to him all stiff and nervous like many of your peers. You make the atmosphere easy to be in, and Alhaitham happens to like it when things are easy for him.
You liked his company just as much, finding his calmness and straightforwardness so tranquil and refreshing, not to mention his funny smarty pants attitude. You liked him so much that you would sit by him in the Akademiya or in the library and do your handy work.
it basically progressed from that. "I enjoy being with you, and you kissed me that one time and I liked it. And I can see that you enjoy being with me too. So we're together now." He stated, and you were in shock, he's always been straightforward, but that was truly unexpected.
"Y-You haven't even... taken me out on a date yet!" That was the first thing that you thought to say, still processing everything.
Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, "You don't call this and our every other meeting a date? We are together and we're doing what we want to do." Damn it, he made a good point.
"B-But..." You stuttered, making him sigh.
"Do you not want to be with me?"
"No! I-I mean... yes... Yes! I do, but you just dropped it all out of nowhere." You argued, seriously having a love-hate relationship with his unapologetic honesty.
He ignored your comment, only choosing to hear that you want to be with him. "Good, you're my partner now."
And then... with you being you, every milestone, every special event in your relationship, you'd make something for him.
First anniversary? A custom picture frame with 12 pictures of both of you in it to remind him of the 12 months you've been together.
His birthday? A crochet little plant in a pot, the plant seemingly just sprouting.
Just a random day? Well, you got something for him anyway. :D
You love him to bits and you wanted to show them in your very own love language, crafting little gifts!
Each one, Alhaitham accepted in an uncharacteristically bashful yet still pleased manner, muttering a "Thank you..." or a "You never fail to impress me." and then you are presented with a great honor of a smile from the scribe.
Making him feel happy and warm inside (though he would never admit that he was, but he really was) by making things for him made you so happy!
You managed to fill his desk with your creations, not just decor, but some useful trinkets too! Like a functional hourglass, a lamp that he can write on, and an organizer for books because you swear that he literally just lets the books litter his office since he reads lots of them on and off, and you needed to do something about it.
The main thing is... he loves your love for creativity.
At least... that's what you thought...
But ever since he became the Acting Grand Sage...
Alhaitham has always been an honest person, never one to beat around the bush or spare anyone's feeling by keeping his opinions to himself.
And he sure has gotten colder, much more poky, probing at the weaknesses and insecurities of many scholars in an attempt to only let researches and works he finds worthy to continue. The rest shall no longer be conducted.
Apparently, that included your work.
"I don't see a use for such an object. I prefer things in my desk to be practical."
"The way you designed it is rather... silly. Far too childish to be of sensible use."
"Decors are not necessary, there's better use of your time."
You took all of his critiques, from then and now, to heart, making sure to reflect on his words to improve. But when he was still the Scribe, he at least commented on how to improve.
Now, it's like... he wants you to stop.
You're currently in the office of the Acting Grand Sage, you brought your crocheting kit with you to pass the time, hoping to just have a quiet afternoon with him while you both do your work, much like what you did in the past.
"Alhaitham, what'cha up to?" You asked innocently, still working on your crochet as you were seated on the floor. He was working on something on his desk, his brows pulled together as he frowned at the report in front of him.
That was what you usually do, ask some questions about each other's business, encourage each other if it's really stressing you out, or jab at how you could never do his work, and he would not have even a quarter of your patience to finish a craft.
This time, however, he does not grace you with a response, preserving the quietness of the room. You got the message, so you opted to keep quiet and keep on crocheting a blanket with a print that you were planning to give him, maybe a fluffy blanket will keep out his cold mood.
A few minutes later though, you don't know exactly what made him snap, you don't know why he suddenly called your name, and you don't know why he looked at you with such a frustrated look.
"Y/N, just drop it." Alhaitham suddenly blurted out to you. Making you jump and pause what you're doing.
"W-What?" You stuttered, confused and worried at the same time.
"I saw that you've been struggling on that thing for hours, can't you just move on to something more useful?" The gray haired man sighed. "You're so creative, and you're wasting your time with that." He said it like so condescendingly, that such a calm sounding comment penetrated your heart more than an actual insult could.
"I mean, look at all this." He motions to his desk. "A bunch of junk that serves no purpose. I really don't see why you need to do all this." Tears started collecting in your eyes, and you heard his words as if you're the junk that serves no purpose.
"B-But... those are all presents for... y-you." Your voice was shaking, and you could only manage to whisper. "I wanted to make them for you."
"Then perhaps it is me that don't want to receive them anymore."
And that's what got to you. What you do to show your love, what you try to do for him, he doesn't even like. So does he even love you at all?
Tears streamed down your face, and what initially started as sniffles turned into sobs that echoed around the large room. You stood up, stuffing your things into your bag before aggressively wiping your tears away, though more seem to fall anyway.
Without another word, you ran to the elevator before rushing out of the Akademiya, running back home with a broken heart. It was a miracle you didn't trip with how cloudy your vision got from the tears.
...
"What are you doing here?" Alhaitham raised a brow, seeing Kaveh in his office, sweeping everything on his desk into a large bag.
The blond architect ignored him, clearing out the desk before heading for the wall with a few of your works filled the space.
"Did Y/N make this?" Kaveh questioned, finally looking at his roommate. Alhaitham merely nodded, though even more confused when the architect took the pieces and shoved them in the bag too.
"What are you doing?"
Kaveh scoffed, shaking his head at the Acting Grand Sage's pathetic ignorance. "You don't deserve these things!" He then proceeded to glare at him. "Saying such mean things at Y/N, they did nothing wrong and you started acting like some obnoxious fucker that just wanna bring people down."
"I mean, I know you like doing that. But to Y/N?" Kaveh questioned in disbelief. "Yeah, you don't deserve any of this."
And so Alhaitham was reminded of his words from yesterday, as well as you're crying face as you ran out of his office. He (rather stupidly) thought that you'd get over the comments, after all, you didn't mind his critiques from before.
"I wanted to make them for you." He remembers what you said, all the things Kaveh had in the large bag were for him. You wanted to make those for him.
You made them because... you love him...
And he fucked up.
Kaveh was done with his sweep, leaving him in a eerily empty room, free of everything that made it a bearable to work in. He hated the office of the Grand Sage, but your presence, the presence of your creations... made it that much better.
He had to fix this.
...
You heard knocking at your door, but after looking at the peephole and seeing a gray haired scholar for the fifth time that day, you didn't bother opening the door.
"Darling?" You ignored the endearment muffled by the wall separating the both of you.
On the other side, Alhaitham sighed before resting his head on your door. He's been trying to talk to you properly for five hours, but he didn't just want to say what he wanted to at your door, risking you not hearing what he has to say for himself.
"Listen, Y/N, I'll just be here... working." He didn't leave just yet. "You can join me, if you want. Just like before."
He sat back down on the bench that was right in front of your house. He brought the work he has to get done with him, and trying to swallow down the guilt yet again, he proceeded to work into the well hours of the night before leaving with yet another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you.
For many days, it was like that, he stayed outside your home. Whenever you needed to go out, you ignored him, even if he followed you, even if he tried to talk to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.
"I think this type of yarn would be good for structure." Alhaitham held a roll of yarn in his hand, looking you and anticipating a response.
Though you said nothing, you confirmed that you at least listen when you plucked up another roll of the same yarn and paid for it. He smiled a little, though you didn't wish to humor him further.
Everyday, Alhaitham would be working in front of your house, maybe knocking once in a while to check in on you. It was rather heartbreaking to see, from your window, you saw him sit there, looking like he isn't even getting work done, just staring at the reports and trying to make something of it.
And finally, it was night yet again, a particularly cold one this time around. The cold breeze as the sun sets in for the night sent goosebumps down the Acting Grand Sage's spine, but it was far too early to leave, so he didn't budge.
You don't get it, you don't want to feel sorry for him, he couldn't just say something so harsh yet act so stubborn to force you to forgive him!
But tonight... he does look rather cold, and from what you learned the days before, nothing will make him move from that bench until you let him talk to you properly.
There was a soft warmth that ingulfed Alhaitham as he was busy with his work, from his peripherals he could see the makings of a blanket, effectively shielding him from the cold.
Looking back, he saw you dressed in your pajamas, not bothering to make eye contact with him. "You looked cold." were the only words that you said to him.
Unbeknownst to him, while he was working in front of your house, you joined in on his day, finishing the blanket you were planning to give him before his outburst.
It felt like such a waste to scrap it, especially since you were half done with it already...
He stood up from the bench, looking uncharacteristically enthused at you. "Thanks..." He was looking fondly at you, but you still refused to meet his gaze.
You also noticed from watching him a bit that he wasn't really eating much throughout the day, so before you could stop yourself...
"Would you like to come in for dinner?"
...
You were quiet for most of the meal, but his ears perked at the occasional sniffles you let out, implying that you were trying not to cry. Alhaitham felt shitty for thinking he even had the right to feel bad when he was the one that caused all this.
After dinner, it was still silent, but Alhaitham proceeded to evaluate the blanket you gave him in your living room. It was crochet with, yet again, an irritated dendro slime on top of a building that resembles the Akademiya, you must have observed him and his sour mood from being the Acting Grand Sage.
"Do I get to keep this?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.
You bit your lip, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. "Umm... It's... not of much use." You replied, earning a sigh from him.
With your comment, Alhaitham made his way right in front of you, making it perfectly clear for him see that tears have started to fall from your eyes. "I-I think... it would be best if you g-go now."
You were looking down, still trying to cover your face despite knowing that he knew you were crying.
"Would it be okay if I talk to you properly first?" Something in you wanted him to leave because you thought that he deserved it, but you still wanted answers. Why did he say all those mean things to you? Why did he hate what you make so much? Why was he persistently outside your house all the time to persuade you to finally talk to him?
You didn't answer, but didn't motion at all for him to leave, so he took his chance before it was too late. "There's nothing I love more in the world than you. And to lash out on you for doing something you love was absolutely idiotic of me."
He took your hands in his, "I hated being the Grand Sage, I hated having to deal with the shit I don't care about. That hate just continued to build up, and I... you were the one that unfairly received it all."
"You didn't deserve any of that. And I know I can't use being stressed as an excuse for hurting you, that was my own stupid act. But I am truly sorry."
"I-I would have stopped making things for you if you hated them so much." You finally looked up at him with wet doe eyes, effectively clenching his heart even more.
"No, no, darling... I love what you make, every single one. Because I know that making them makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy." He lets go of one of your hands to wipe your tears away. "I'm so sorry about everything I said, darling. The moment Kaveh took everything from my office, I realized how empty it was... without you..."
"He did that?" You asked in disbelief, your question laced with a strained chuckle. He nodded, a pout forming on his face.
"Yeah, and I realized how terrible it was..."
You laughed, though your cheeks were still stained by dried tears. "Do you like the blanket I made you?" You asked him, and he gave you a rare genuine smile.
"I love it, you're a star for making it for me." He closed the gap between the both of you, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.
"I love everything you gift me. I love you..." He whispered as he hugged you warmly.
"Even the plushie on your desk that doesn't do anything and always falls over?"
"Even that..." Your heart fluttered, your body cuddling with his to receive more of his warmth.
"Okay..." You responded, smiling against him. "You can tell Kaveh to stop keeping my gifts hostage..."
...
"There's somethings missing..." Alhaitham gave Kaveh a pointed look, making his blond roommate scoff.
"Well, everything I took I brought back here! If you lost a few things then that's you're fault!" Kaveh has always been a big fan of your crafts, and Alhaitham has a gut feeling that he liked a few things that he took.
The gray haired scholar merely raised a brow, making Kaveh sigh dramatically.
"Fine! But I'm keeping the plushie!" He left before Alhaitham could argue with him, leaving him only to sigh.
Your giggle occupied the room for a bit. "I'll tell him I can make one for him."
"Alright, but I'll appreciate if his isn't as cute as mine. Thanks." He said, and though you know he's joking, he still had that stoic face that makes you laugh when he says those unserious things.
"I'll keep that in mind."
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
This is like almost 20k words, so I really hope that you guys liked it :D
It's been a while, (as always with my writing, but it's summer, so apart from work, I've been pretty free to write, which makes me really happy) enjoy!
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rosyblooom · 3 months
Note
I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️
when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau
PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶
creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3
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yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others
charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️
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username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍
username all time favourite wag ! 🥰
yourusername ❤️❤️
(liked by author)
username ly girl🫶
username oh she won😩
username **they. they're both literally perfect omg username nah u right my bad🫡
scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳
username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him
username real
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others
yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂
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yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️
yourusername love u so much🥹
username queen🫶
username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌
username that's bc 27 IS young lol
charles_leclerc belle👸
yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧
username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername
yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌
iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗
yourusername my girl 🤍
Three weeks later...
tmz_tv
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liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others
tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.
In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.
During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.
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username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes
username a literal ray of sunshine🥹
username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶
username this doesn't feel real...
username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛
username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(
username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔
username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕
username sending prayers to the family 🙏
scuderiaferrari
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liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others
scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.
This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.
Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️
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8 months later...
Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.
If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.
As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.
A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.
Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.
Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.
He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.
The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.
Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.
“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.
“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”
Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”
Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”
“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.
“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”
Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.
“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.
“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”
“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”
“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.
"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."
Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."
Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."
Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”
Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.
“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”
Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.
Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.
“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.
Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”
“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”
Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”
Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”
The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.
Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.
A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.
“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.
Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.
“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.
Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”
Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.
“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”
“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”
He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”
“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.
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f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username and 14,296 others
f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.
Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.
We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.
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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves
username right?? so respectful🫶
username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready
username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲
username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭
username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕
username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls
username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!
username 😭😭😭
4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44
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luveline · 3 months
Note
How about ploy marauders going to a party and Sirius promised to do readers make up, but is late so the other two are making an attempt. Sure they might know how to do Sirius's messy style, but do they know big dramatic styles? Can James do a perfect wing?
<3 fem, 1k
“Can you stay still?” Remus asks, turning your face a half inch where it’s held in his hand. 
“Can James stop kissing me?” you ask. 
James pulls his face from the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin. “Sorry, are you busy?” 
“You’re supposed to be helping.”
“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying yourself.” 
You smile. Remus rubs the softest curve under your eye with his thumb, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, concentrating instead on your face and the wetness of your makeup where it’s beginning to sink in. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he sighs. 
“You know better than I do,” James says. 
You don’t know a thing about it, that’s why you’d arranged for Sirius to do your makeup tonight before Marl’s birthday bash, but where is your awful boyfriend? Late, decidedly unavailable for makeup-ing. 
“You’ve done his mascara a thousand times,” James argues with Remus. 
“Yes, but Sirius has never asked me to do his blush.” Remus’ hand moves to the side of your face. “You are lovely, though. I think using only a little of everything is working in our favour.” 
“Sirius only lets him do mascara because he already has nice eyelashes,” you worry. It won’t matter if Remus messes up or doesn’t get close enough to the root. 
“Yes, and because he likes it when Remus holds his face like that,” James points out, eyeing Remus’ hand where it stays at your cheek. Remus has long fingers, ever-so slightly thick with two golden rings that kiss your chin as he lets his hand fall, and he’s always gentle. 
“James, I’m tapping out.” 
James pretends to roll up sleeves he isn’t wearing, your bulkiest boyfriend in a short-sleeved t-shirt that showcases the lean muscle of his forearms, the not so lean ridges of his biceps. They tense as he sits up, his knee jabbing yours, the bed creaking dangerously beneath your angled weight. “What’s there left to do? She’s gorgeous.” 
“What did you want?” Remus asks you. 
“Uh, I wanted, you know…” You sound ridiculously shy. You wish you could just do all of this faff by yourself rather than force their attention, but neither boy seems annoyed. “He does that smudgey eyeliner, it makes my eyes look bigger. And lipgloss, but I can do that myself.” 
“Are you kidding? That’s the best part,” James says. He gives you a smile confident enough to reassure you and handsome enough to make you shy from his touch all over again. “Pass me the black pencil, Remus. I’ve got this.” 
James does not got this, his expression melding from happy, adoring, to perturbed, and then annoyed. “Aw, I’ve fucked it.” 
Remus shakes his head vehemently. “You haven’t! We just need a wet wipe.” 
They search the room for Sirius’ wet wipes and come up empty-handed. A towel is wetted and taken carefully to your eyes instead, cold and rough on your eyelids. 
“Be gentler,” Remus whispers. 
James is practically atop you know, your chin tilted up to his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers in turn, then to you solely, “‘m I hurting you?” 
“No.” You’re whispering too. It feels appropriate; they’re both very close to you, and this movement might fix or ruin your makeup with the party’s start time drawing ever closer. 
“I think I’ve fixed it,” James says, taking the pencil up again, the nib soft as it rolls over the corner of your eye. “Sirius can perfect it in the car, right?” 
“I thought you were good at everything?” you ask. 
James turns your face up impossibly higher, craning his head down for a peck. “Yes,” he whispers severely, “I’m good at everything. But Sirius is usually better. Quick, let’s find your lipgloss before we’re late.” 
Remus tries to tell James that it isn’t true, a serious conversation at a bad time, and James won’t listen to a word of it. They quibble over who’s doing your lipgloss, bathe you in compliments when they’re done —aw, dove, you look so cute, and cute? she looks perfect— then suddenly an abrupt beep is sounding outside. The three of you scramble into your jackets and down the stairs, meeting Sirius where he leans against the car. He throws the keys to Remus, ushering you into the backseat with him for some last minute clean up. 
“Hey, they’ve done a good job,” he praises, another hand on your face to turn it up kindly to the light. “Did you bring your lipgloss?”  
You nod quickly and dig for it in your jacket. 
“What!” James says from the front, turning in the passenger seat to complain. “That’s the one thing we did perfectly.” 
The car starts. Remus laughs to himself behind the steering wheel. 
“Did I say otherwise?” Sirius asks, letting his fingers curve toward the back of your neck. Pale in the light, eyes lit with something funny you’ve yet to hear, he dips in close to you and talks quietly, “I’m sorry, I promised I’d do your makeup for the party. But you’ve all done well without me, you look perfect, especially your lips.” 
“Then what did you want it for?” you ask, confused, your seat belt pulling as Sirius encourages you forward. 
“To reapply.” He taps your neck with a fingertip. “Spare a kiss? I promise I’ll fix any mess.” 
Commotion from the front seat.
“James–” Remus warns. 
“What? I want to watch.” 
“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly. 
“How am I a freak? She’s my girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend, and you’re doing that voice like you’re gonna lay her down in the back seat.” 
“James.” 
requests r open!! pls think about reblogging if you enjoyed, I hope u did either way!!!
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frostedpuffs · 3 months
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i like to think Marinette is really skilled at cake decorating. it's a different artistic medium but one she picks up quickly and finds very relaxing. she LOVES piping intricate designs and making realistic gumpaste flowers. it's calming to her. whenever she's stressed, Tom will ask her for her help with decorating a cake, and it instantly chills her out. she gets into the Zone.
the first time she makes Adrien a cake, he is mesmerized by the amount of detail. perfectly piped rosettes and lettering, wishing him a happy half-birthday or something of those sorts. he almost doesn't want to eat it because of how pretty it is, but they enjoy a slice together. he loves how artistic she is, and the cake tastes good too! after dating her for a few months and spending time at the bakery, he begins to become familiar with her piping style, and loves watching her make perfect droplines or buttercream roses. he thinks it's especially cute how her tongue pokes out of her mouth when she focuses. she's always showing him something new she's learned. he's aware she's amazing (his own words), yet she still always manages to surprise him.
later, when ladybug shows up to patrol with a cake to celebrate their defeat of a particularly difficult akuma, chat noir recognizes Marinette’s handwriting in the piped message on the top of the cake, and his chest warms with affection knowing ladybug purchased this cake from his girlfriend's parents' bakery.
"It's a beautiful cake," he would say, thinking of Marinette poking her tongue out as she piped the buttercream border. his love for her surely spills out in the softness of his voice, but he can't help himself. he adores Marinette!
Ladybug would be all bright smiles, beaming with pride. "Thank you," she'd respond. "I decorated it myself!"
1K notes · View notes
margotw10bis · 7 months
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Friendly Marriage. JJK [m]
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bestfriend!JK x reader
Genre: smut; romance; bestfriend!Jungkook, babydaddy/exhusband!Jungkook (non-idol Jungkook)
Words: 19k
Synopsis: No one can really understand your relationship with your best friend. You are not in love but you did get married and you did have a son. It was just a friendly marriage, wasn't it?
Warnings: unprotected sex; breeding kink; oral sex (m. & f. receiving); In The Soop 2 JK (it's a warning)
Drabble 1
You can't believe Junghee is already three. It feels like he was born yesterday and yet, the big red 'Three' decorating his birthday cake tells otherwise. You want to keep him a baby all his life because he is so freaking cute! Sometimes you wish he'd look more like you but you're actually glad he looks just like his dad: that means he'll be really, really handsome. To be true, Jungkook is the most attractive man you know with his raven hair and his doe eyes. And let's not talk about his body... so damn hot with perfect muscles and a full tattooed sleeve. However, he is your best friend, not your husband. Or not anymore to be precise.
Things with Jungkook have always been weird for other people. You have been best friends since you were eight and your parents and friends were convinced that you two could end up together. Maybe the fact that you got married sent them mixed signals... But it was just for fun, there was no love involved. No romantic love. Sure, you love Jungkook and he loves you but not like that. No one can really understand how you feel for each other because it's way more than a four letter word.
You've always felt safe with your best friend. You know that if everyone around abandons you, Jungkook won't. Ever. And you're sure that you can't love someone more than him, except your cute little son of course.
So, at twenty-two, getting married together seemed fun. You were joking around about some friends asking you for the millionth times if you were dating and then, Jungkook said 'Let's get married'. You laughed and said yes. And you got married. It was just you and him and it was perfect. You remember Jungkook saying his vows 'You are supposed to marry the person you love the most, and it's you Y/N'. You could understand what he meant because you felt just the same.
And living together was nice too. Especially because you were already roommates. Nothing really changed between you, despite the rings on your fingers. But your family and friends were completely lost: you were married but not dating. You weren't even kissing! The only time your lips touched was at your wedding and you couldn't stop laughing.
After one year of a happy friendly marriage, Jungkook asked you if you wanted to have kids. You told him that you sure wanted to but you were not sure to meet someone as loving and caring as him to be the father of your baby. And there came the other craziest idea of your best friend: having a baby together. Which meant confusing your family and friends even more.
The baby making process was so weird. It was the first time you saw each other naked, even though you got peaks of Jungkook's perfect chest and abs a lot of times. Just like your first kiss, you didn't stop laughing, resulting in Jungkook scolding you: 'Could you stop laughing? I'm trying to concentrate here!'. And you laughed even more. He did make you cum though, so it was not so bad.
And then, your beautiful baby boy arrived. You couldn't dream of a more perfect family. Jungkook is the best person you know and your kid was made out of love, even if it's an unconventional one. Jungkook and you felt in love with Junghee the very first second you saw his puffy face and tiny fingers. The fact that he looks just like Jungkook makes you happy because he is such a great father. Honestly, he is the perfect man, except he is not your man.
You decided to get divorced one year ago without a real reason. It was just about time to end the joke and to confuse your loved ones one more time. Things haven't changed so much though. Jungkook still spends most of his time with Junghee and you. Well, maybe things have changed a little since Harin, Jungkook's girlfriend. Your best friend has to split his free time now but Harin is really nice. Junghee seems to like her too so it's all what matter to you.
"Daddy!" Junghee screams when Jungkook appears in the park where your family and a few friends have gathered
Jungkook immediately takes his son into his arms and hugs him.
"Wow, you looks so big! How old are you? Twelve already?" Jungkook jokes, making Junghee proud because your son is always trying to look older — unfortunately for you
"No! Three" Junghee replies, holding two fingers up
"Where's mama?"
"With grandma, I think she is baking the cake"
Junghee hides his face in Jungkook's neck. He missed his dad. He is not used to be without him for more than three days.
"Baking the cake in the park?" Jungkook chuckles before grabbing Harin's hand, still holding his son with one arm
Jungkook's smile brightens when he sees you. The simple jeans and white top you're wearing look perfect on you. You are indeed with your mother and you do have a cake next to you, but it's already baked. His son was right about most things.
Your mother's eyes leaving you to stare at something behind you make you curious. When you turn around and witness your son in his father's arms, your heart melts. It's such a perfect picture. There is so much love between the three of you that you could cry.
"Kook!" You greet him before waving at Harin
"Hi, baby mama!" He gives you a bunny smile but it fades a little bit when he notices the picnic blanket with so many food on it already set up "You should have called me to help you"
"She shouldn't have to ask, Jungkook" Your mother replies
You give her some strong look to ask her to stop. Your parents do love Jungkook, especially because he gave you the most perfect son. But it's true that something's changed since you mentioned your best friend having a girlfriend. Maybe they don't believe you when you tell them that you weren't in love and that you're happy for him. Or maybe they're a little annoyed that Jungkook has less time for Junghee.
"It's okay, Kook, it was not very hard to do. I'm glad you two came" You reassure him
"I want to play" Your son speaks up when he notices some of his friends coming closer
Jungkook drops him down and Junghee is running so fast that some dirt flies up. You watch your son hugging his friends and you wave at one of the dads. He is actually your colleague too and your sons go to the same kindergarten. It's not rare that Yoongi and you have lunch together and talk about your children. He is a nice guy, even though he doesn't talk much — you do much of the talking. He surprises you when he walks to you. You know that he is not a social butterfly.
"Hi, Y/N, how are you?" He asks you softly
"I'm fine" You answer with a sweet smile "Do you want to stay for the cake?"
"I'd love that" He replies, a little bit embarrassed, with a slight blush on his white cheeks
"Hi" Jungkook steps in the conversation "I'm Jungkook, Junghee's father"
Your best friend reaches out for Yoongi's hand and you can't help noticing how much alike and different they are. They have the same black hair and the same natural attractive aura. But they're so different for everything else. Jungkook is taller and brawnier while Yoongi is thiner and more delicate. His skin is pure white, even more when his veiny hand is close to Jungkook's inked skin.
"Yoongi. I work with Y/N"
Jungkook seems surprised but he doesn't have time to say anything because he can feel something squeezing his other hand. He now remembers that Harin is standing next to him.
"This is Harin, my girlfriend" Jungkook explains and Yoongi nods
Your colleague and you exchange a well intended look. You've talked about Harin before. You didn't say anything bad about her, of course, but you did mention that she was pretty and a little younger than you. In Yoongi's head, he just can't understand how Jungkook could prefer Harin to you. You're kind, smart and funny. You're a great mother. Yes, he just can't understand... But he is glad though.
"Daddy! Come push me" Seung asks Yoongi
"Mama, me too" Your son steps in
You chuckle and start walking to the swings. Yoongi and you make sure to bring your sons high in order to hear more of their happy cheers.
"Jungkook seems to be a nice guy. Good handshake, too" Yoongi says
"Sorry" You wince, clearly understanding that your best friend might have crashed your colleague's hand "He is just protective. But he is great. I hope you'll get to know each other"
You look into Yoongi's intense and dark eyes and you both know what your words mean. Yoongi is a great guy and spending time with him made you develop a little crush on him. You know he is not married and that the relationship with his ex-wife is a little complicated — not everyone has the chance to have Jungkook as an ex — so you don't want to make things harder for him. But you do hope that things evolve between you. You haven't been with a man since before you got married and it's been a long time since you felt those butterflies in your stomach.
"Me too" He replies simply, no other words are necessary to say what you want to say
A few hours later, everyone is around your son to sing the Happy Birthday song. He claps his tiny hands with enthusiasm and laughs. It makes you so happy to see Junghee happy. You love your son so, so much that your eyes water. He is growing up so fast and you're scared to miss some moments of it.
"Don't cry, mama" Jungkook teases you, pulling you to his side, and then whispers into your ear "We can have another baby if you want"
You gasp and smack his buff chest.
"Let's take a photo" He says "Yoongi, right? Can you?"
Your best friend hands his phone to your colleague and you grab Junghee into your arms. You three pose next to the cake. You absolutely love taking photos of your family, it brings so many memories when you look at them later. Jungkook brings you closer and looks straight. Not into the camera but into Yoongi's eyes. He paints a genuine smile on his face but his eyes are sparkling with challenge.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
"You look so pretty, mama"
"Aw, thanks baby" Your heart melts at the compliment
You apply at last layer of gloss on your lips and turn around to hug your son. You feel a little stressed: it's the first date you have in almost five years. And you're not used to wear such elegant clothes. But you really wanted to feel like a woman tonight and not only a mom. So you chose a tight but not too short black dress. The square cleavage and the thin straps makes it simple enough to feel comfortable.
You take a last look in the mirror to fix a strand of hair that managed to escape your low ponytail. You look like an adult and it feels weird. However, you do like how you look.
"I'm home!" A well-known voice comes from the entrance door
Junghee jumps off your bed and rushes to hug his dad. You follow him and you notice that Jungkook's jaw almost falls on the ground. You chuckle and make a turn.
"What do you think?" You ask Jungkook with redden cheeks
"You're beautiful"
Jungkook's deep voice makes you shiver. You try to look into his doe eyes to detect any sign of teasing but there is not. There is only sincerity in them.
"So, you're going out with Yoongi?" Jungkook asks, a little tensed
"Yeah. We'll see. I haven't been on a date for ages" You joke and bite on your lower lip
"It's gonna be fine, Y/N" Your best friend reassures you "You're gonna have fun and you can call me if you need anything"
One of the reasons you love Jungkook so much is because of how supportive he is. You know he is as stressed as you are and that he is super protective toward you but he also roots for you. You give him a tender smile while your son is almost climbing on you because he wants to be held.
"So, what's up for you guys?" You ask, kissing Junghee's chubby cheek and leaving a stain of gloss
"There is a water show at Banpo Bridge so we'll have fun too, right buddy?" Jungkook cheers with his big bunny grin and scrunched noise
Your son mimics him without even meaning to and suddenly you feel bad to miss a nice moment with your family. The truth is that you're never happier than when you see your son smiling and having fun with his mom and dad.
"Hey, don't make that face" Jungkook tells you, rubbing your bare shoulder with his big and rough hand due to his boxing "We can go back another day with you"
You nod, appreciating how well your best friend knows you. With heavy heart, you hug Junghee and kiss Jungkook on the cheek, and finally leave your apartment to meet Yoongi.
Yoongi has chosen a fancy restaurant with a very sophisticated atmosphere. The place is really nice and the food is delicious. Yet, all you can think about is sitting on the grass on the Han River banks and watching a water show from a bridge. Yoongi's hand patting yours brings you back to reality.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry, I was thinking about Junghee. I'm not used to be away from him" You reply, head down in embarrassment
Yoongi is very thoughtful and he is great company. You feel bad to make it look like he is not.
"Don't apologize. I know how you feel. I miss Seung every time he is staying at his mom's" He reassures you "If you want to go, I won't be mad"
You smile at him. God, he is such a great guy. He is the kind of guy you want, the kind who would never blame you for putting your son first because he would do the same for Seung. The thought drives you a little crazy and you begin to fantasize about a future with him, Junghee and Seung. A house full of laughs from your boys. It's a beautiful dream and it deserves a shot. Yoongi deserves a shot.
"I'm sure he is fine for the night" You say with a shy smile, squeezing Yoongi's hand a little and appreciating his cute gummy smile
"I miss mama" Junghee tells his father with watery eyes
Jungkook brings him on his lap to soothe him. Actually, your best friend misses you too but you deserve to be taken on a date. You deserve the flowers, the fancy wine and all the attentions a man should have on a date with you. And Jungkook is happy for you. Ever since Junghee's birth, all you have done was taking care of him. You're a great mother but sometimes Jungkook is afraid that you give up on other parts of your identity.
"I know, buddy" He gives his son a peck on his head "But look at show! Isn't it great? Don't you like the music and the water jets?"
Junghee looks up and even if he is young, he appreciates the beautiful night view of Seoul reflecting in Han River. The atmosphere is cheerful with the music, the blue and purple spots illuminating Banpo Bridge. And Junghee loves water too so he does find the water jets cool. But it doesn't prevent him from crying. Jungkook is trying to comfort him but your son just repeats that he wants you. Desperate, Jungkook pulls off his phone and dials your number.
You answer at the first tone, worried.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, Junghee just wants to talk to you"
Jungkook feels bad for ruining your date — well, only a little bad. He gives his phone to his son and a shaky voice reaches your ear.
"I miss you mama"
Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. Will you ever be able to spend a night without your son and not feel guilty? Especially now that you hear his cry.
"Oh, honey, I miss you too. I promise I'll be there soon. And I'll read you a story, okay?" You can't see it but Junghee nods, wiping his big rounded tears from his cheeks "Try to enjoy the show with daddy, okay?" Once again, your son nods
You hung up and look at Yoongi with sorry eyes.
"It's okay, Y/N. I told I wouldn't be mad" Yoongi gives you a sweet smile and it makes you even more sorry
"Well, if you are really not mad, maybe we could do that again another time?" You attempt, shyness painting your cheeks red
"That would be great"
Your last bold move of the night is a peck on Yoongi's cheek, right before you jump in your car and drive to Banpo Bridge. You spot Jungkook and Junghee almost immediately. Well, it's not very hard, you just have to follow the little whisperings of women who are commenting how hot your best friend looks, especially with a toddler in his arms. And you can only agree. His black oversized clothes, his eyebrow piercing and his tattoos make him look like a bad boy but the tenderness he is giving to Junghee is a dangerous weapon for hearts, including your weak one.
You try to approach as discreetly as possible and jump in front of them while shouting 'Surprise!'. Junghee chuckles and hugs you, so happy to finally see you. Jungkook's big dark eyes seem to be illuminated with all the stars of the galaxy and his bunny smile is wide and genuine.
"What are you doing here?" Jungkook asks, happily surprised, making some room for you next to him on the blanket
"I missed my boys" You simply answer
You shiver a little because of the light breeze and your best friend notices it. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against his chest. You hum at his warmth. You are feeling so happy right now: Junghee is happy, Jungkook is happy and you are together. You can't dream about something more perfect than that.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
Jungkook has just opened his eyes that he knows it's going to be a long day. Not because he has a lot of things to do for his boxing school but because Harin has dropped a bomb and the conversation can only end badly.
"Would you want to get married?" She asked
And now, Jungkook doesn't know how to answer. He means, they've only been dating for a few months. Isn't it way too soon for this kind of commitment? Does he even want this kind of commitment, at all?
"I don't think I'm ready" Jungkook chooses to settle with
"But you already got married" Harin argues, crossing her arms on her chest, which makes Jungkook wince
"Yeah but it was like a joke"
He doesn't add that the joke doesn't mean it wasn't serious or it didn't involve love. He can't say that, no one but you can understand what he means. It's just like he said in his vows: you marry the person you love the most in the whole word and this person is you. He knows he can't love someone more than you because you're not his lover, you're his best friend. The person who knows him better than anyone, the person who knows all his flaws and still wants him. And god, he loves you even more since you give birth to Junghee. You gave Jungkook the most beautiful thing in the whole world and nothing could overcomes that.
"You had a kid, Jungkook" Harin spurs, reproach in her voice
And once again, it was serious. Junghee is truly a baby you wanted both and you conceived with love, maybe the purest love that exists. But he still can't say that to Harin. All his girlfriend sees is the fact that you've slept together and pretend you're not attracted to each other. Your best friend sighs, running his hand into his raven locks. God, it's going to be a long day...
"Listen, I got married with Y/N because we were young and foolish. I don't think I'm husband material"
Harin scoffs. She knows damn well how good of a husband he was to you. All your friends talk about it when Jungkook and her are hanging out with them. Except that you were married only on paper and that what made Jungkook a good husband was that he was actually your best friend and not your husband.
"Listen, babe" Jungkook tries to ease the tension "It's just too soon and Junghee is still going through the whole process of me being in a relationship. And now, his mom is also setting into a relationship so I guess he is a little bit lo—" He is cut off by Harin sudden bright eyes
"Wait! Y/N is dating?" She oddly sounds happy about it
"Uhm... Yes? I think, I don't know. But it's not the point, the point is—"
"It's okay!" Harin kisses him on the cheek "You're right, we have time to think about marriage and kids"
With that, she jumps off the bed, leaving Jungkook completely lost. When did they pass from marriage to having children? This is not good for Jungkook. He doesn't even want to talk about that. Not with Harin, anyway. She is fun and cute but Jungkook doesn't love her that much. He growls and puts a pillow upon his face wondering when his life went wrong.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
Junghee is drawing on your coffee table while you're taking care of your laundry. It's a very hot day and you're so glad that Jungkook has insisted in setting an air conditioner at your place. Speaking of the devil, the door opens and lets appearing a very handsome black-haired man. A smile grows naturally on your face. Your best friends walks to Junghee to rub his hair and then comes to you.
"Wow, is it Hot Moms Day?" He teases you, pecking your cheek
Jungkook actually only half-jokes because he's always had a soft spot for you wearing large loungewear pants and styling your hair in a bun secured with a hair grip. Maybe Jungkook has some kind of housewife or baby mama kink but he's not sure because it only makes him horny when it's you. Watching you taking care of Junghee makes him hard someway. Maybe it's because the only time he fucked you was when you conceived your son. Not to mention that you were gorgeous when you were pregnant and seeing your big belly full of his baby provided a great feeling of pride in Jungkook's chest.
"Don't you have boxing classes today, baby daddy?" You tease back
"Nope so..." Your best friend makes a dramatic pause to enhance your natural curiosity and it works, according to your questioning eye "I was thinking we could go to Busan. We could go to the beach and crash at my parent's. Junghee hasn't seen them in a long time"
"Yah!" Your son cheers, already running to you
You have no doubt that the word 'beach' attracted him. You're kind of worry because Busan is far away but the smile on your son face is enough to convince you. Jungkook takes Junghee in his arms and you know damn well what they are trying to do. They are looking at you with their big doe eyes to charm you and it works every single time.
"So, what do you say, baby mama?"
"Okay, let's go" You sigh, just for the appearance because deep down you feel pretty excited too
After packing some clothes for the weekend, you three took Jungkook's car and drove to Busan. Jungkook and Junghee sang so loud that you had to put your hands on your ears but you were actually happy.
Despite your best friend's exhaustion, he is cheerful while dining with his parents and you. It's been a long time since you saw them and they are like your second parents. Moreover, Junghee is really excited. Especially since his grandparents spoil him with so many toys you're not sure they'll fit in the car. It just feels good to be around your family and spending simple moments that mean everything.
Junghee is already asleep in Jungkook's old room between you and his dad. Your best friend is looking at you in the dark while you're patting your son's black hair. It's as smooth as his dad's.
"Are you happy?" He asks quietly
"Yes, I am. Kook, I'm always happy when I'm with you and Junghee"
Jungkook rubs your cheek with his thumb. The softness of his gesture makes you hum and you grab his hand to kiss it.
"I won't ever love someone more than you. You and Junghee will always mean everything to me" He confesses
"You're not really a good boyfriend" You joke, referring to Harin who obviously doesn't have a lot of room in Jungkook's life
"I'm not" Jungkook agrees with a sigh "I'm too busy being a dad and your best friend. And before you argue, I don't want to change that"
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
The next day, you go to Haeundae Beach with Jungkook and Junghee. As you has anticipated, you're not the only one who wanted to enjoy the ocean on this hot weather. The beach is full of families, groups of friends or couples and your little family blends perfectly in the landscape. Your son has his bunny smile on his chubby face, which makes him so damn cute. Jungkook settles your beach towels and parasol while you're applying sunscreen on Junghee. It doesn't take long for him to beg Jungkook for a swim. You watch in awe your two men walking hand in hand towards the water. Your son looks so small next to Jungkook's muscular body. However, you grow a little bitter when you notice some women looking at them too. You know damn well how hot your best friend is, especially at the beach where his brawny chest is at full display along with his sexy tattooed arm. But it makes you uneasy when women try to flirt with him in front of you.
It's a weird feeling. You're jealous but an odd type of jealous. Jungkook is your best friend, but also the father of your son. When you think about him having another child with someone else, it really bothers you. However, you're not fool enough to deny the possibility of it. And you have no doubt that Jungkook will always be there for Junghee but you can't help wondering 'what about me?'. Things won't be the same if he gets married or has a child. You love your little family and, as selfish as it might be, you don't want it to change, even if you won't ever admit it out loud...
You sigh and decide to occupy your brain by applying sunscreen on your own body this time. When you look up, you see two black-haired boys close to the shore, building sandcastles. A tender smile appears naturally and grows wider when your son lifts up his head and waves at you. You wave back and pull out your phone to snap a photo. Jungkook notices it and waves at you too.
"Isn't mama so pretty?" He asks his son and Junghee vigorously nods
"I love mama"
"I love mama too" Jungkook chuckles before bringing his attention back to his sand creation
Your smile disappears in no time when a — you hate to say it — hot woman approaches Jungkook and Junghee. An unpleasant, yet familiar feeling fills up your chest: possessiveness. If you didn't have to take care of your belongings, you would already be running towards them. You watch the woman shamelessly flirting with your best friend in front of your son! You scoff and roll your eyes.
Jungkook, on the other hand, tries to be polite but he doesn't really acknowledge the stranger's beauty. For him, no one can compare to you. So he says a few words but his tone makes it clear that he is not interested. However, the young woman doesn't seem to get the message so Jungkook, not so subtly, mentions you as his wife. God, he wishes he'd kept his ring... To hide the fact, he carefully keeps his left hand buried in the wet sand. Thankfully, the woman decides to leave and Jungkook releases a relieved sigh. Junghee is cheerfully clapping at his castle and Jungkook smiles at him with tender eyes. His son is growing up so fast. Maybe he should have another baby, just like he teased you on Junghee's birthday.
"I want to drink apple juice" Junghee states with a confident voice, just like if he has make a life-changing decision
He doesn't wait for any respond and runs to you. You giggle at your son clumsily heading in your direction. He jumps on you, almost kicking the air out of your lungs: he is getting a little too big to jump on you without hurting you but you can't care because the gesture is just full of love. Even more when he pecks your cheek. Jungkook loves witnessing these scenes. He joins you and grabs a brick of juice for your son before settling down on his own towel.
"I'll go for a swim" You notify them
As you're mindlessly walking to the ocean, Jungkook's fists clench a little when he sees some men eyeing at your perfect ass. Fuck, he knows how hot you are but he doesn't like the way strangers are looking at you. How ironic that he is in the same place you were a few minutes ago. He strategically lays on his stomach to hide his boner. You look good in your navy bikini. Your bare thighs look inviting and your swinging butt is to die for. He quite praises himself for your full breasts because you took an extra bra cup after your son's birth. Your whole body looks delicious with sexy curves. The thought of you being his baby mama clearly makes him horny. He loves being the one who got you pregnant — geez, him and his fucking weird kinks when it comes to you... Jungkook wishes he could mark your bare skin to keep men away but he knows he can't.
"Daddy, what does 'slutty' mean?" Junghee asks with his big innocent eyes
Your best friend almost chokes on his spit. What the hell?!
"Where did you hear that?" He tries to shirk
"The man next to us said that mama was slutty" Your son explains, unaware of the anger building in his dad
"Which one?" He asks with gritted teeth
Junghee points with his little finger a man, probably about the same age as Jungkook, hanging out with his friends, a beer in his hand. Jungkook pokes his tongue on his cheek before standing up and asking his son to stay here.
"Having fun?" Jungkook asks with a harsh tone that matches his dark eyes
The group of men lifts up their heads, quite surprised.
"Yeah, it's a nice day" The little fucker who called you 'slutty' answers with a proud smirk
"Checking out hot chicks?" Jungkook hoaxes
"Yeah, why?" The same one replies, growing frustrated
"You see the one with the navy swimsuit over there?" Jungkook points towards you with a head motion but doesn't wait for any respond "That's my wife. If you call her slutty again or anything at all, I can guarantee that you'll not have fun anymore. You don't talk about her, you don't even look at her, is that clear?" He adds with a threatening tone, trying not to think about the fact that he has lied twice today by calling you his wife — in his defense, you actually were not so long ago
If the other men nod, the one who seems to be dumb has a big ego. He is not going to let someone speak to him like that. He stands up and gives a harsh eye to Jungkook.
"What can I say? Your wife is slutty" He snaps back with a smirk, full of provocation
Well, the provocation doesn't set well with Jungkook since his fist meets the man's face in no time. However, the stranger fights back and the mess going around catches people's attention. On your way back, you see some people looking and gasping at something. You step closer and gasp when you see your best friend, panting, with bruised knuckles and death stare. He looks down at a man with a bloody face laying on the floor and growling of pain.
You quickly check on your son before joining your baby daddy.
"You need to stop, you could lose your boxing licence" You whisper in his ear
Jungkook is looking at you and it takes him a few seconds to get rid off his harsh dark eyes as the anger slowly decreases. He nods and steps back, not without wrapping an arm around your waist in a protective and possessive manner. Jungkook is angry and maybe he is afraid of loosing you in someway so he needs to feel you close to him. You grab an ice block from your cooler and pull it on Jungkook's hand.
"What happened?" You ask
You see Jungkook avoiding your eyes and you frown.
"The man called you slutty, but I don't know what it means" Your son answers
Your mouth snaps open out of shock. Did Jungkook punch a guy for your honor? You don't know if you want to yell at him or to hug him.
"Kook! You shouldn't have said anything!" You scold him
"I can't do that!" Jungkook defends himself "I can't stay here when someone is disrespecting you. Wouldn't you do the same if you were in my shoes?"
You look into his doe eyes and you find nothing to reply because it's true: you would react if someone said horrible things about your best friend.
"No more fighting, please. I don't want you to get hurt" You end up saying
"He didn't punch me" Your best friend replies with a stupid cocky grin and you slap his shoulder
"Daddy is like superman!" Junghee shouts, which makes you sigh
Now, you'll have to explain to your three-year son that he cannot beat people like his dad.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
In front of his parents' house, Jungkook kneels in front of his son who is looking at him with a question mark in his big doe eyes.
"Look, buddy, how about you keep secret about what happened at the beach? I don't want grandpa and grandma Jeon to worry" He says, embarrassed
You can only smile at this big and strong man being afraid to get scolded by his parents. But you understand. Jungkook's parents are not big fan of their son's job and being a mother yourself, you perfectly get how worry it makes them. You often wonder if Junghee will want to fight for a living and the thought of him getting hurt squeezes your heart in a painful way.
"Okay!" Your son replies, not really understanding why his dad doesn't want to say he is a hero "Pinky promise!"
"Pinky promise" Your best friend repeats with a sweet voice, wrapping his finger around Junghee's tiny one
As you are applying a thin layer of mascara to get ready for diner in the backyard of Jungkook's parents, your best friend enters his childhood bedroom. You're surprised to see him wearing a black shirt, looking well dressed up for a casual diner at home.
"Going somewhere?" You ask with a lifted eyebrow
"Indeed, with you" He answers with a playful grin "It's been a long time since we've spent time together, I mean just you and me. So, I asked my parents to watch out for Junghee and I booked at table for us" Jungkook proudly announces
You are amazed by the place your best friend has chosen. It's fancy yet cozy but above all, you really appreciate spending time with him. You've missed those moments with your best friend. You sip on your wine while chatting with Jungkook. As usual, the talk goes smoothly and it seems like you never run out of topics. However, Jungkook's next line makes you freeze.
"I would like another baby"
You gulp with difficulty. You didn't know that Harin and him were already at this stage. A weight is crushing on your chest and it's hard to pretend like you're not broken at the idea. Yes, you're happy for your best friend and you know he'll be a great dad for this second child but like you explained, things won't be the same between the two of you. You'll need time to get at the idea.
"Oh" Is all you manage to respond
You don't even know what to say to him.
"I know it's quite sudden but Junghee is already three and this afternoon he asked me about a sibling... I don't think it's completely unimaginable" Jungkook explains
He is looking into your eyes to get an hint of your thoughts but you can't understand them yourself.
"So, what do you think?" He asks, stress making his heart beating fast in his chest
"I-I think it's great" You lie with a chocked throat that spurs you to finish your glass "It'll definitely take your relationship with Harin on another level"
Jungkook frowns immediately.
"No, I meant having another baby together, Y/N" He clarifies, gesturing between you and him
"Oh!" You say, once again, surprise more than noticeable on your features
"I already told you, I can't imagine having a family with someone other than you"
Your cheeks take a light pinkish color and you bite your lower lip. You also have thought about having another baby recently. And you can't imagine someone other than Jungkook for the father but what about your friendship? Being a mom is the most beautiful gift in the world for you and to be honest, you miss being pregnant. You miss feeling your baby moving in your belly. You miss feeling Jungkook inside y— Wait, what? No, you don't! You shake your head to get rid off this ridiculous thought.
"I think I need time to think about it" You whisper, eyes down in shame of your filthy ideas
"Sure, take your time. Don't pressure yourself, it's okay if you don't want to, I won't be less happy with Junghee and you" Jungkook reassures you, grabbing your hand
You are still a little bit lost when Jungkook parks his car in his parents' garage. You wonder how your life would be if you decide to have a new little member in your family. You'd surely be beyond happy but how would be things with Jungkook? You had the feeling that your relationship was a little confusing when you were married and when you decided to have Junghee in someway. Now, you're divorced, parents but still best friends. Things got back to normal. Having another child might rattle everything...
If you stopped lying to yourself for one second, you'll admit that it's not having another baby that scares you. It's being intimate with Jungkook again. He is so perfect, so caring. It's quite hard to not fall for him. So far, you manage to avoid it by clearly delimited your relationship as friends. Things almost got out of control when you conceived Junghee and you can't deny that your heart was doing some weird tricks in your chest for a few months — which you easily convinced yourself that it was the hormones talking. But now, there is no hormones and your heart does it again...
"Hey, are you okay?" Jungkook softly asks you, cupping your face with one of his big and warm palm "You've been quiet all along"
"Yeah, I'm okay. I guess I was just deep in thoughts" You confess in a whisper
"Like I said, don't pressure yourself. It was just an idea" Your best friend reassures you
God, he looks so handsome right now in the dimmed light, the room only lightens by the pale moon coming from the window. He looks unreal. His eyes are as shiny as ever, his cute bubble nose makes you smile and his lips... You should stop looking at them. It's bad. It's really bad. Jungkook is your best friend, he has a girlfriend and you have Yoongi — even though your relationship is quite undetermined — and most of all, he is Junghee's father! Only bad things would follow if you let your desires control you.
Wait a minute.
What desires? You don't have desire for Jungkook! You don't! Impossible. That's completely ridiculous and crazy and impossible. Not to mention impossible. Have you already say impossible? Because it is impossible for god's sake.
So why are you scooting closer to him and kiss him? Your brain is not responding to any of your pleas and your lips press deeper against Jungkook's ones. It gets even crazier when he kisses you back! What in the world is happening? You can't really think about it because it feels too good.
The kiss is passionate, your hands making a mess in Jungkook's black hair and his tongue is entering your mouth. Your moans are swallowed by him and your panties get soaked. It's the first time you two share such an amazing kiss. The most amazing kiss ever.
You clumsily reach his seat to sit on his lap. The lack of room makes the position quite awkward and you have no choice but to press your boobs against his firm chest. Your hands caress his biceps through the fabric of his shirt and your pussy clenches around nothing when you feel his muscles flexing underneath your touch. Jungkook's hands don't stay steady either: one goes up to grab your hair and pushes you deeper against his lips while the other one squeezes your ass through your dress.
When he leaves your swollen lips to drift away to your throat, your hips start to grin on his crotch and you can feel his boner despite the layers of clothing. Your moans intensify and you have to secure your arm around Jungkook's head not to fall into the abyss of pleasure. The friction applied on your covered clit is great but you need more. A sneaky hand finds its way between your bodies and starts unzipping his jeans. You whimper when you feel your best friend hard in his underwear. You caress him as well as you can despite the uneasy position and Jungkook lifts up your dress to get access at your bare ass skin. He growls when he roughly grabs your juicy flesh, sending a wave of arousal to your already wet cunt.
You finally free him from his briefs and manage to push aside your soaked panties. You grab his thick length at the base and impaled yourself on his cock. Your wetness and his pre cum make it easy to enter, even with your tightness. You hide your face on his neck to mutter your loud moans caused by the stretching. Fuck, he is big. Especially since you haven't had sex for years! But you're too high on arousal to care about the slight pain and start riding him like a freak. Maybe the man from the beach was right, you are slutty with Jungkook right now. You don't even recognize yourself. It's even the first time you fuck somewhere other than a bed!
Jungkook helps you by placing his hands under your ass. The whole car is filled with moans from both sides. You kiss Jungkook's throat messily, leaving wet stains of saliva on his thin skin. He runs one of his hands up and settles it in the back of your neck to make you take him deeper and harder. He is so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. Animalistic growls escape his lips and he urges you to kiss him again. Your groans mix with your tongues and salivas in a real messy and sloppy kiss.
You can feel your orgasm building up in you despite the aching feeling growing in your legs. You're out of breathe but you don't seem to be able to stop. You're completely controlled by your arousal and you wish you could fuck him all night. The way you're riding Jungkook's big cock tells enough about your desires. Your walls clench, making his dick throb inside you and you know that you are both close. A few more jumps are enough to feel his cum shots painting your walls, sending you on the edge too. His seeds mix with your juices, creating a pool of arousal between your legs.
You're both panting and you rest your sticky forehead against Jungkook's one. He is keeping you tight in his arms, gently caressing your back. You are slowly coming down from your high and your eyes snap open. What have you done?! You fucked Jungkook, your best friend! You have risked years of friendship for a quickie in his fucking car! While your son and his parents are sleeping in this very same house. Panic fills your body and you gasp at the realization.
You jump out of the car, only pulling down your dress to cover the mess between your legs and run in shame. You lock yourself in the bathroom, unable to think straight. All you can do is crying for hours, despite Jungkook gently knocking on the door and asking you to open the door — which you never do.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
You ended up discreetly sneaking into Jungkook's bedroom late in the night, praying for him to be asleep or at least pretend to be. You didn't sleep at all and by the absence of light snoring, you know that Jungkook didn't either. You don't really know what to say to him despite you're sorry: for having sex with him and for running away right after it. If the shoe was on the other foot, you know how hurt you would be. But you're ashamed and embarrassed to face him just yet...
If Junghee is way too young to get the tensed air between his mom and dad, Jungkook's parents can clearly feel it. And it does nothing to ease you. You try to focus on your son during breakfast, doing everything you can to avoid Jungkook's eyes that you easily imagine on you. At some point, your best friend grows sick of it, sighs loudly and grabs his plate to escape the room. When his mom joins him in the kitchen, she can't hold her worry and questions her son.
"I told Y/N I wanted another child" Jungkook confesses with a low voice and a defeated look
His mom is not as surprised as he thought she would be.
"How did she react?" She asks with a comforting hand on her son's large shoulder
"She said that she needed to think about it. I mean, I understand but just look at Junghee. We have been so happy since he was born, I don't think another child would fuck things up between us" Jungkook growls in frustration, running his tattooed hand in his hair
His mother doesn't scolds him on his bad language and rather asks:
"Is that why things are tensed this morning?"
"Maybe. Actually... Something happened" Jungkook winces, embarrassed to talk about his sexual life with his mom "I didn't see the problem before Y/N ran away. And now she doesn't even look at me! I don't know what to do"
"Do you regret it?"
Your best friend takes a few seconds to think. Does he? Maybe he wishes that your second time together were in a more romantic atmosphere but he doesn't regret one bit. He missed your touch, he missed your body. He missed feeling physically connected to you. Sex with you is so different, way more powerful and emotional because he cares about you. He fucking loves you. And honestly, it breaks his heart that you shut him down after sharing a bed — or his car seat to be precise.
"No. I mean, I wanted to but I don't want to hurt her, you know?" Jungkook replies with blushed cheeks
"Y/N has always had a special place in your life, Jungkook. You've known each other for a long time. Maybe the idea of things changing between you scares her. But never doubt her love for you. She deeply cares about you and you'll always be the father of her child. I know you'll figure things out" His mom reassures him with a tender smile but a hint of worry in her eyes
A little knock on the kitchen door drives Mrs. Jeon's and Jungkook's eyes on you. Your red cheeks clearly notify how embarrassed you are. Even quite mad — against you or him or anything else because he can't quite decide —, your best friend finds you cute.
"Can I talk to you?" You shyly ask him and he nods before leading you to his bedroom for privacy
Your eye is everywhere except on him as you gather your courage to speak.
"I'm so sorry, Kook" You apologize
"For what?" His voice is a little bit cold but you can't resent him
"For everything?" You try and sigh "I think I was a little overwhelmed about what happened but I want you to know that you didn't do anything wrong, it was entirely my fault"
Your eyes water and your chin is shaking in a dangerous way. Despite his frustration, Jungkook pulls you into a hug.
"I get it. Please, don't cry. Let's put that aside for now, okay? We can talk about it when you're ready" Jungkook comforts you, pecking the top of your head
Fuck, why does your best friend have to be this great? He should be mad. You would in his shoes. But he is comforting you instead! And it makes you feel even worst. You keep repeating that you're sorry while you're crying in his arms.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
It has been one week since your trip to Busan and things have been back to normal. In appearance only but your mind is a real mess. You blush every time your best friend gets close to you and your heart beats heretically whenever he touches you. You feel like you're going insane. You need you convince yourself that you don't love Jungkook and that it's just a side effect of your roll in the hay.
That's why you've called your mom to babysit Junghee and went on a date with Yoongi. After all, he is a fine man and he is available. You feel terrible when you think about Harin and you still don't know how you'll be able to look at her in the eyes... The thought makes you stress. You try not to think about it and concentrate on the movie you're watching with Yoongi.
Why don't you feel any butterfly anymore when he grabs your hand? It's not good for you or your heart. Yoongi is really great so why don't you love him? You kind of like him and you find him attractive but he doesn't fill your mind like Jungkook does. And it's not fair for Yoongi. He deserves to be someone's first choice, not some consolation.
At the end of the movie, you tell the truth to Yoongi and you hope not to hurt him too much. He tells you that he understands and that he is a little bit sad because you're a great woman — which makes you feel worst. You feel nothing like a great person lately, quite the opposite actually.
In another part of Seoul, Harin has brought the marriage topic on the table. Again. Maybe she feels threatened after the weekend you've spent together. And Jungkook doesn't know how to escape it because he really doesn't want to marry Harin. Or any other woman but you.
"I think it could be great to be a real family, you and me and our babies" Harin states, a dreamy smile on her face
"Sorry to remind you but I have a family" Jungkook replies with irritation in his voice
"Yeah, yeah, I know that Junghee will always be part of your life but he'll get along with our children. Oh, and for the wedding, I was thinking about..."
Harin explains her theme and everything she wants to have for her big day but Jungkook stops listening. His mind drives him back to you. He remembers your wedding and how simple and perfect it was. Full of authenticity. It was a perfect day. His second best day after Junghee's birth. Which leads him to remember it. How scared he was for you but also how impressed he was. How you grabbed and firmly squeezed his hand until hurting him — not that he cared anyway — when you were pushing. How he encouraged you and told how amazing you were. He remembers your tired yet wide smile when you held your son for the first time. He remembers how he felt when he held Junghee for the first time. His body was so small he was afraid to break it. And he remembers the promise he made to himself that day: to always protect you and your son and to love you even after his last breathe. Nothing could be stronger than the bound you share. Maybe it's cruel but Harin would never compete against you. There is no choice to make because you are the only one for him.
But judging how panicked you reacted one week ago, Jungkook doesn't think he is even an option for you. So he lets his girlfriend blather on her fantasies of wedding and children.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
Jungkook is picking up Junghee at the kindergarten because you have a meeting for your job. While he is happy to spend time with his son, your best friend's body tenses a little when he spots Yoongi in the crowd. Should he greet him? It's so awkward because Jungkook fucked you while you are in some kind of relationship with the man. Did you tell him? Did you see him after that? Did you sleep with him? Gosh, he hopes not... He would rather get punched for having sex with you than having his heart broken for you having sex with someone else. He can't help but feel hypocrite when he had sex with Harin this week even though he didn't really want to. What reassures him a little is that he always wears condoms.
Wait a minute.
He hasn't with you. Do you take the pill? He is pretty sure you don't. Oh god, the whole situation is getting out of control. Yes, he wants a baby with you but he doesn't want to trap you into the situation. Anxiety is eating him alive and he doesn't even see Yoongi approaching until he is right in front of him.
"Hi" The man greets him
"Hi, how are you?" Jungkook tries to hide his panic and his guilt behind a smile
"Fine" Yoongi lies, his heart is still a little broken but he doesn't resent you — you can't control your feelings and he knows it damn well "Seung's birthday is next weekend and I'm checking on the parents to see who'll come at the party. Can I count Junghee in?"
"Sure, he'll be more than happy" Jungkook releases a sigh, glad that he won't be punched after all
A little boy with black hair and a bunny smile runs to him, waiting for his dad to hold him in his arms. Jungkook's heart melts at his son and he can't help but wonder if Junghee will soon have a little sister or brother. He tries not to think too much about it and walks to his car.
The drive to his boxing school doesn't take long and he mentally thanks you for that: you have insisted for him to choose a building in a district close to all kinds of educative establishments, mainly because it'd be great for his business, but also because it'd be handier when he would be a dad.
Junghee is always excited to see his dad boxing. He loves imitating him, throwing his little fists in the air. Your best friend has started giving him lessons and he loves the fact that he can deepen his relationship with his child this way. He also hopes that his son will be able to defend himself if he gets in trouble or defend you because you're way too stubborn to listen to Jungkook and take boxing lessons... On the other hand, he pretty likes being the one to save you.
Jungkook is kneeled down in front of Junghee and keeps his palms up so your son can punch them. Jungkook can't help a chuckle at the cute pout adoring the toddler's focused face. His son smiles proudly whenever Jungkook praises him. Your best friend has no doubt that you would look at them with awe eyes if you were there.
However, the little lesson has to end when some students enter for their class. It's not the first time Junghee sees them but he grows shy and hides behind his father's leg. Surely, the little group of teenagers impresses him. Your best friend smiles tenderly at Junghee and rubs his tattooed hand into the sleek hair of his child to soothe him. He tells him to sit on the bench and grabs an apple juice for him before heading to his students and giving instructions.
You rush out of the building to take your son home. You gasp when you see some teenage boys punching each others on the ring. You don't like Junghee to see violence. You know that Jungkook couldn't do otherwise but it doesn't please you. Definitely, you had a long day... You're sure Junghee will have nightmares tonight.
"Hey, can I talk to you?" Jungkook asks when he spots you
You nod, quite surprised by his embarrassment and follow him to his office. You frown when he closes the door. What's so serious?
"I need to ask you something'"Jungkook looks down a moment before returning his eyes into yours "Are you on the pill?"
Your eyes widen. You really didn't expect this question. And it's another reminder of how stupid it was to fuck your best friend.
"I am" You answer
Now, it's Jungkook's turn to be surprised. He thought you weren't. You always told him that you didn't want to intoxicated your body with unnecessary doses of hormones if you're not in a relationship. Does that mean that Yoongi and you have turned a corner? His heart is squeezing painfully in his chest.
"Oh, okay then, I was worried about nothing" Your best friend says, his hand messing his hair up
"About that..." You start, embarrassed too "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about what happened" Jungkook opens his mouth to argue but you stop him "I shouldn't have reacted like that, especially when I'm the one who initiated things. I feel terrible towards you and towards Harin. I really hope that I didn't make things tensed between you" The idea of it makes you wince and you hide your face in your hands "God, I'm such a horrible person"
"Hey, don't say that" Jungkook grabs your hands to look at your face with affection in his doe eyes "I could have stopped you and I didn't because I wanted it too. Please, don't blame yourself. To be honest, I liked it"
Jungkook's words make you blush and you look away to prevent yourself from jumping on him once again. Your best friend pulls you to his side to hug you before letting you go. Jungkook kisses Junghee's chubby cheek to tell him goodbye and you grab you son in your arms to bring him home.
In his bed, after you've read him a book, your son surprises you. Or more like breaks your heart.
"What?" You say because maybe you haven't heard well and gosh, you wish you haven't
"Daddy and Harin are getting married" He repeats
All blood leaves your face and you feel like your heart has stopped.
"Why do you say that?" You ask with a white voice
"Harin told me"
You might be completely broken at the news but you need to know how your son feels like because it's the most important thing for you.
"What do you feel about it?"
"I'm okay. I like Harin, she makes good pancakes" Junghee replies innocently
You nod and kiss his forehead before escaping his room to cry in your bed. You made Jungkook cheat on his future wife! You're so horrible! Worst, your heart is broken while you should be happy for your best friend. Why didn't Jungkook tell you? Is it because you had sex? You knew that you've fucked things up! Now your best friend isn't confiding to you anymore, even for something as important as a fucking wedding! You feel bad. Terrible. You're the one who provoked what you absolutely wanted to avoid: things has changed between Jungkook and you.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
Junghee is playing with the new toys his grandparents gave him in Busan. You look at him with a distracted look because your attention is set on the news channel. It's not the first time Seoul has to go through a typhoon, however, you're a little worried because the TV keeps repeating that this one is especially violent. You try to keep calm for Junghee but the dark sky and the pouring rain don't help. It's the first time you have to face such a weather condition without Jungkook. You mentally note the advises the anchors give: preparing some candles or flashlights in case of blackout, making sure to stay away from the windows and closing the blinds if possible. You sigh and join your son, innocent as usual, only caring about the little imaginary world he has created in his mind. It helps to soothe you, even though you wonder if your best friend is okay.
"Where are you going?" Harin asks with an irritated tone when she witnesses Jungkook grabbing his car key
Jungkook stops his movements and looks at his girlfriend like it was evident. They have just listened to the same news as you and Jungkook immediately reached the entry of his apartment — where Harin seems to spend more and more time each day.
"I'm worried about Junghee and Y/N" He explains
"They're fine!" Harin scoffs "And look outside, it's pouring! You can't go out"
Jungkook is growing frustrated. He is worried, he doesn't want to leave you two alone. His heart is beating so fast in his chest because of the stress. His whole body is begging him to go and make sure you're safe. Why can't Harin understand that? You're his family! Anger is starting to build inside him and he can't help but yelling at Harin because she has been acting like a crazy woman lately and Jungkook is sick of it.
"I can't leave my kid and my wife alone!"
"Your wife?!" Harin snaps "Really Jungkook?" Her voice is nothing sweet and it's full of grudge
"You know what I mean" Jungkook replies with a roll of eyes
"No, I don't actually. You are not married! And I am your girlfriend" Harin reminds him
It's true. Jungkook knows it. But he can't help feeling upset at that thought. He is still seeing himself as your husband, maybe because for him it's complicated to separate that from being Junghee's father. His instinct is always to protect you and your toddler. When he pictures his family, it's you, Junghee and him. Harin is never in the picture to be honest. What he wants is to be with you. Right now, he can't even remember why he agreed to sign those stupid divorce papers.
"I need to go" Jungkook settles to say, his voice a little softer than before
"If you pass that door, it's over" Harin says with confidence, her arms crossed on her chest
Your best friend has never liked ultimatums and this one is by far the worst. He scoffs before opening the door and leaving. He doesn't even give a last look to Harin.
The rain might be pouring, the wind might be going wild, nothing could prevent Jungkook from reaching you. Actually, the hostile weather convinces him that being with you was the right decision. He just can't imagine not being there for you while he knows that you are worried and alone with your son. He is not scared about the road but about leaving you alone. It's all he can think about while driving toward you and Junghee.
The door opening makes you jolt. The familiar face with soaked, dark hair appearing provokes a weird trick in your chest.
"Kook?" The surprise is evident on your face and in your voice but everything disappears when your best friend gives you the most tender smile ever "What are you doing here? Are you crazy? You could have had an accident!" You scold him even though you're so glad he is here
"I was worried about you" Jungkook simply replies
Your mouth mimics a silent 'Thank you' and Jungkook joins Junghee at the coffee table. Your son has given up his toys to get down on one of his favorite hobbies: drawing. He chuckles when he spots his dad and almost immediately tries to climb on him. It doesn't take long for him to use his pens on Jungkook's tattooed sleeves. From time to time, Junghee nods proudly at his art piece, filling with color some patterns of the tattoos or adding completely new drawings.
"I want to have drawings on my arm like daddy" Your son suddenly states
"Wow, not until eighteen, right mama?" Jungkook laughs, imagining his three-year old toddler with tattoos
"You mean not until at least forty" You correct him, half-joking half-panicking at your little boy covered in ink
Junghee pouts but focuses again on his pens. You and Jungkook are looking at him with love eyes. He is so cute! His doe eyes are wide open and his little mouth is slightly open. You love how immersed he gets when he is doing something. He doesn't care one bit about the weather raging outside, he is in his little bubble and he has trapped your best friend and you in it.
"Mama, come help me"
You chuckle and grab a pen yourself. You scoot closer to Jungkook, feeling the warmth of his body. While Junghee is sitting on Jungkook's lap, you're against your best friend's side. One hand rests on his shoulder to stay steady while you're drawing a little flower on his hand. Jungkook hums at your touch. It feels good. The simple moment with his son and you fills up his chest with joy, he feels like he is the happiest and luckiest man on Earth. He can't help himself and grabs your small hand in his, not caring about the pen between your fingers. You lift up your head in surprise, trying to understand why he has done that but you find yourself unable to say anything.
Jungkook's handsomeness and closeness just cut your breathe. He is so pretty and the way is looking at you, like you're the most precious thing in his life, is destabilizing. You're two seconds away from kissing his pulp lips that attract you. Thankfully, you get back to your senses, shake your head and remove your hand from his grip.
"I, uhm, I'll go take some milk for Junghee" You stutter, cheeks completely blushed
You escape as fast as you can and welcome the cold air coming from the fridge on your burning face. You need to focus. You need to stop thinking about your best friend this way. You hate how hot, handsome and caring he is right now. Last time you did something stupid, you almost ended up pregnant and destroy Jungkook's future wedding. You have to stop! You need to keep your distance with Jungkook. He is only here for Junghee.
Your baby had hidden in Jungkook's arms when the typhoon was at its climax. Thankfully, your building was far enough not to suffer from big damages and the city went back to normal only a few hours later. All the emotions of the day pushed your son in a sound sleep. You watch in awe your best friend putting Junghee in his bed. You close the door as softly as you can and you face an embarrassing silence between Jungkook and you.
"So, what's the date?" You ask after clearing your throat
You hope that bringing the wedding topic with a light tone will spur Jungkook to see that you are still his confidant. You don't want to let the incident in his car ruining your friendship. In fact, things have to be even smoother than before if you want your growing family to work.
However, Jungkook is frowning and looking at you with a confused face.
"The date for what?"
"Kook" You sigh, a little hurt that he doesn't trust you "You can tell me, it's okay. Actually, I would have rather liked hearing it from you and from our three-year old son. But I get it, things have been... strange lately. Nevertheless, I want you to know that I am sincerely happy for you and Harin" You manage to give him a small smile
"I'm sorry but I really don't know what you are talking about" Jungkook replies, working his brain out to get a clue
"Your wedding, Jungkook!" You clarify, frustration noticeable in your voice
"My what?!" Your best friend shouts, completely taken aback
"Did you think that I wouldn't know?" You ask, trying to make sense of his genuine incredulity
"Y/N, I am not getting married! Don't you think that I would tell you? Where did you get that idea?"
It's your turn to frown. What's going on?
"Junghee told me that you were getting married... Maybe he didn't get it right?"
"I've never told him anything like that, like never. I don't want to marry Harin for fuck's sake" Jungkook says
You purse your lips because what you are thinking about is way too crazy to be the truth. Did Harin lie to your son? Why? That's just horrible! It can't be...
"What?" Jungkook spurs you to speak up "What did you think about? And don't lie, I know that face"
"I don't want to create problems" You finally decide to say "Maybe... maybe you should talk to Harin and clarify the situation because I think it's just a big misunderstanding"
Jungkook is feeling his anger growing inside his bones. What did Harin do? After promising he'll be back soon, he drives back to his apartment. His fists are so tightly clenched around his wheel that his knuckles are white. He wants some explanations now. Did she dare messing up with his family? With his son? With you? Jungkook is fucking pissed. He storms in and hardly contains his wrath.
"What did you say to Junghee?"
His angry tone makes Harin jolt. Her eyes widen in fear because she has never seen him this angry.
"I-I don't know what you are talking about..." She lies
"Speak now!" Jungkook shouts, his eyes even darker than usual
"I, uhm, told him that we were talking about marriage?" She tries with a small voice and Jungkook almost looses it
"You were talking about marriage!" He rectifies "Do you have any idea of what you've done?! Are you fucking insane? He is my son! You can't tell him something like that! Don't come near me or my family ever again. Now, get the fuck out!"
Witnessing Jungkook's fury, Harin doesn't argue and leaves as fast as she can. Jungkook needs a couple of minutes to calm down. He needs to let go of his anger and there is no better way than boxing for him. For the third time of the day, he steps in his car to head to his boxing school. He doesn't even know how many hours he hits the punching bag. He can't believe that Harin almost destroyed his relationship with his son and with you! He can't imagine what was in your pretty head when you thought he was getting married while he told you hundred of times that you were the only one for him. He makes a pact with himself: he will put a ring on your and his fingers so no one will ever make you feel like you're not the love of his life.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
It's already three am and you still haven't heard about Jungkook. You're way too worried to sleep and you're walking back and forth in your living room. You've tried to call him but gained no response. He told you he would be back but he hasn't. And he left pretty pissed off. Furious, actually. You're scared something has happened to him. Did he get into a fight with Harin? Did they make up? Did he have an accident? There are so many different scenarios possible and you don't know which one is the truth. If you didn't have to watch Junghee, you would already be in your car, looking all around Seoul for him.
When you're about to officially lose your sanity, the door opens. You run to Jungkook and hug him out of relief. Thank god, he is okay. You step back just enough to look at him: he is sweaty and tired and his clenched jaws are a clear sign of how tensed he is.
"I was so worried" You whisper, not to wake up your son "Is everything okay? Did you talk to Harin?"
Your best friend scoffs at the name. He still feels angry but less since you've hugged him. Your touch has always had some kind of magical power when it comes to soothe him.
"She told Junghee that we were getting married. I can't believe she lied to our son. You don't know how mad I am right now. I ended things with her"
You nod, trying to integrate the news. Despite being completely taken aback by Harin's actions, you feel terrible to have doubted Jungkook. He is your best friend, your baby daddy, the man you trust the most in the entire world. You should have known that he would never hide something this huge.
"I'm sorry" You tell him because they really are the words that sum up pretty much everything you want to say
"Don't be. I'm not sad because of her. But I am sad because I feel like I almost lost you" He explains with sincerity and it breaks your heart
"Kook, you will never lose me" You put a delicate hand on his jaw "I love you so much, you have no idea. I'll always be there for you. You're an amazing man. An amazing dad and the best best friend ever and I don't think you know it"
Emotion fills the air between you two. Jungkook's heart melts at your words and you can see it in his eyes becoming tenderer. He deserves the whole world. And suddenly, an idea comes to your mind and your look changes. Jungkook must misinterpret it because there is no way you're looking at him with lust right now. It must be the fatigue from his boxing.
His heart stops and he gulps loudly when he watches you kneeling down. He wishes his dick wasn't hardening by seeing you down in front of him and lifting up your pretty face to look into his eyes. The sight is sinful and he can't let his fantasies controlling him because he would do unspeakable things to your mouth. However, he doesn't have time to question you that your hands are already working on his sweatpants to take it down. You caress him through the fabric of his briefs and it makes his cock almost completely hard in no time.
"Y/N" He whispers with a chocked and raspy voice "What are you doing?"
"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me. Don't you want it?"
The innocence and insecurity in your voice mixed with the way your eyes seem bigger when you look up at him prevent him from thinking straight. He can only nod, waiting for your next move. A wave of arousal goes straight between your legs when you grab the hem of his underwear and push it down, freeing his hard cock. Your mouth waters at the sight and you realize that it's the first time you get to really admire his dick. It's thick and big and you know how much pleasure it brings. But you are a little worried at the size of it and you wonder if you'll be able to take him entirely in your mouth.
The drop of pre cum escaping his tip is way too tempting so you poke your tongue out to lick it. Both Jungkook and you moan. He tastes sweet and you want more. You rest your hand at his base while you start kissing and taking fat laps of his head. Jungkook can't take his eyes off of you because it's too good to be real. Your lips are soft against his velvet skin and the wet strains you leave with your mouth and tongue are driving him insane. He has to control himself not to fuck your throat like a maniac.
When his tip is glistening with a mix of your saliva and his pre cum, you open your mouth wide, stick your tongue out and take him in. It feels good to have Jungkook's cock filling your mouth. You have never been fond of blowjobs and yet, sucking your best friend's dick arouses you more than you want to admit. The sweet moans and growls from Jungkook spur you to fasten your pace. You take him quicker and deeper each time, creating some sloppy and sinful sounds. Your tongue caresses his vein and the sweet spot connecting his tip to his length. Your hand frees his base and heads south to cup his balls while you push deeper, making you gag when his tip hits the back of your throat.
"Oh fuck" Jungkook moans in pure ecstasy "Your mouth is so fucking good"
His praise makes you proud and you want to give him even more pleasure. Your free hand that was resting on his hip grabs his to put it in your hair. You look at him through your wet lashes and Jungkook gets the message. You're so perfect, he thinks while he intertwine his fingers with your strands. You open your mouth a little wider and lets him settle the pace and the deepness of his thrusts. You can't help a few tears when he deep-throats you but you actually love chocking on his cock. The wetness of your pussy is a clear sign of it.
"Fuck, baby" He hisses when he pushes deep and rests a little to feel your throat contracting around his dick
He pulls out to let you breathe and enjoys the line of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his member. You're so fucking hot like that. He wishes he could take a picture of you right now to keep the memory because he knows it's a once in a lifetime thing.
"Cum in my mouth" You tell him with a oh-so-sweet voice and he can't believe it's true
He rubs his soaked tip against the pillow of your lips, making a glistening mess that turns him on so bad and pushes his cock right back in. Your hand is deliciously cupping his heavy balls and Jungkook growls while throwing his head back with delight. Feeling your wet and warm mouth around him is really, really good. He fucks your mouth like there is no tomorrow, bringing more tears to your eyes. Your other hand caresses his firm abs and the flexing muscles underneath your fingertips provoke a sweet moan from you. It vibrates on Jungkook's cock and he can feel how close he is. His thrusts are not soft but you know he tries to hold himself back.
You pray for the sinful sounds not to wake up Junghee and you push your head further, your nose almost touching his pubic.
"Oh shit, I'm gonna cum'"Jungkook informs you
You hum to notify him that it's okay and you feel his grab tightening in your hair. You think that Jungkook is going to go a little wilder but he surprises you when his other hand gently settles on your cheeks to caress you with his thumb.
"Look at me" He asks but his voice is so weak that it's more like a plea
You do as he says and meet your best friend's frowning and fucked up face with a slight open mouth. He is damn hot. Your eyes are shiny because of your tears but you are so gorgeous. He can't believe how lucky he is. You're so fucking sexy and the fact that he is the one to see this side of you makes his dick throb. You're usually his very sweet baby mama — which also makes him horny to be true — but right now, you are like a goddess coming straight from his wildest sexual dreams. You are looking at each other with your usual affection eye but there is a sparkle of lust too that sends him on the edge. He is fully focused on you: your tongue, your hands on him, the sleek of your hair tangled in his fist, your soft skin underneath his thumb and your fucking beautiful eyes that he would like to look at forever. Jungkook cums on your tongue with soft growls.
Your cheeks are burning red when Jungkook steps in the bathroom to clean himself. You can't believe you've just done that. However, it's not panic that takes over you like the last time but a sweet feeling and a huge wave of arousal. It just felt right. Maybe the fact that you are both single eases you too. You sigh in content as you drop onto your couch, blushing when you replay the filthy scene that just took place in your living room.
"Shit" Jungkook curses when he drops the towel down after washing his hands
He bends over to reach it but his eyes get attracted by something in your bathroom bin. His body freezes for a second and his hand is shaky when he grabs the little box. Carefully, he opens it and pulls out the pregnancy test. It's negative.
Jungkook doesn't know if he is relieved or sad about it. But you're on the pill so did you take the test just to be sure? Did you think you were pregnant? Is it after you had sex or is it because you've slept with Yoongi too? There are so many questions in his mind right now and the only way to answer them is to ask you directly.
Your best friend finds you on the couch, a gentle smile on your face. The room is quite dark, only enlightens by the moon so you don't see that Jungkook has the test in his hand. He sits next to you and he clears his throat.
"I found this in your bin" He says as softly as he can
He doesn't want you to feel accused. He just wants to know and he knows you: you must have your reasons not to tell him.
Your eyes widen and your heart starts beating fast.
"It's negative" You say with a chocked voice
"I know. Did you think you were pregnant?" Jungkook asks and you bite your lower lip — there is no point in lying since everything is fine
"Maybe?" You reply "I wanted to be sure because, you know, we had sex" You explain with blushed cheeks
"But you're on the pill" Your best friend tries to understand
"I... I'm not. I lied because I didn't want you to panic and you were with Harin. I already felt so guilty. And then, the test came back negative so I didn't see the point of telling you. I would have had if it were positive" You explain
"Is that weird that I wish it was positive?"
You look up at Jungkook and shake your head: you have wished too in someway. You know damn well that he is confessing that because you've come clear too. He always tells you a secret when you share one of yours. He has been doing that since you were eight and you love it. There are so many things you love about him actually.
"Come here, baby daddy" You whisper, opening your arms for him to scoot closer
You rest your head on his shoulder while he wraps you into his embrace. You both enjoy the peaceful silence and you close your eyes when Jungkook gently rubs your side.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
Jungkook is watching you getting ready for Yoongi's son birthday party. He doesn't know if he should enjoy how good you look in the dress he has bought you — an ankle-long tight black dress with long sleeves from the lounge wear collection of Skims that really pleases him because you're like the perfect hot mom — or if he should grow grumpy because you might put efforts for another man. The way the dress hugs your curves is insane: your boobs and your ass are perfectly accentuated and you are fucking sexy. Jungkook can't hold himself and hugs you from behind. Despite looking like one of your usual friend hugs, he presses his crotch a little further against your ass and you can't deny that a wave of arousal washes over you.
"You look good, baby mama" Jungkook says with a voice a little raspy
"You do too, Kook" You reply with blushed cheeks as you're eyeing his white shirt perfectly holding his buff chest and his strong thighs covered by his black jeans
You can feel your best friend's inked hand slowly rubbing your stomach before going up and stopping right under your boobs. Your breathe is cut off and all you can think about is feeling Jungkook everywhere on your body. Your eyes cling on each other through the mirror. You notice how Jungkook's eyes are even darker than usual and the way they look hungry. He tilts his head and lightly kisses the thin and sensitive skin straight below your earlobe, which makes you shiver. It's so erotic how slowly and delicately yet sensually Jungkook moves. You press your thighs against each other because your panties are more than wet now, which causes a smirk on Jungkook's face. His hand is about to finally grab your tit when a little boy jumps on your bed.
You immediately put some distance between your bodies.
"Come on, we're gonna be late!" Junghee whines
You know he has been waiting all day for his friend's birthday. You pick him up in your arms and Jungkook takes care of the present and your bag. Your best friend smiles at the scene: you're a beautiful family. A tender smile paints his face when he sees his son tightening his little arms around your neck to hug you. The amount of love he is feeling right now is indescribable.
Your son is immediately running to Seung when you arrive at the party. You're feeling a little embarrassed to face Yoongi after what happened. You have managed to avoid him at work but there is no way to escape now. Your colleague spots out and gives you a nod to which you reply with a smile. Jungkook is watching the interaction between you and he frowns. Why are you not talking to him? Why is the atmosphere tensed? He can't say that he is not happy about it because to be honest, he was a little stressed to be the fifth wheel with Yoongi and you. It would have broke his heart to witness some sweet gestures between the two of you, especially since your best friend and you have been intimate.
"What happened?" Jungkook discreetly asks in your ear, unable to keep his curiosity away any longer
"Yoongi is really great" You start with a sigh and the compliment makes Jungkook jealous "But I just think that there is not enough place for another man in my life right now"
"Well, you know I'm the only man for you" Your best friend teases you, wrapping an arm around your waist to press you into his side with possessiveness
"Actually, Junghee is the only man for me, he fills up all my dreams" You reply and stick out your tongue in a playful way
"Then we have to make a little baby girl to be even" Jungkook says lowly, squeezing your flesh a little which makes you blush
You are helping to set the food on the table while Jungkook is giving a spontaneous boxing lesson to the children after Junghee has bragged about his dad being a superhero, resulting in all the kids wanting to be one too. Your eyes are sparking with affection when you watch the scene. Jungkook is really good with kids and he is a great father to Junghee. The idea of having a baby hasn't seemed too crazy lately. Having a little girl or a little boy with him fills your chest with happiness. Maybe you should do it. The only thing that holds you back is your relationship with Jungkook. You're not sure you want to have a baby with your best friend anymore... You wish you could have a baby with your husband. You miss the ring on your finger, you miss Jungkook as your hubby.
You're not stupid enough to not have noticed that your relationship has slightly evolved recently but marriage is a big step. However, it's the twenty-first century so if you want to be married, you don't have to wait for the proposal: you can ask him yourself, for real this time. Perhaps, after all, your friends and family were right all along: you were bound to fall in love with your best friend.
You don't know when you fell in love with Jungkook. Was it after having Junghee? When you got married? Or have you actually being in love with him since you were eight? Maybe you didn't know that your love for him was actually a romantic love because it's all you've ever known. It doesn't really matter though because now you know. You love him. As your best friend, as your baby daddy and as the best man you've ever met. You just love him, as a person, all of him.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
Your son wanted to stay for Seung's sleepover so you went back home with Jungkook only. Your heart is beating like crazy. You try to imagine how your best friend will react when you ask him to marry and the stress is filling your whole body. You can't look at him in the eyes.
"I can't believe Junghee is old enough to go to sleepovers" Jungkook jokes "He'll soon have his first girlfriend"
"Don't you think it's a little bit young for a girlfriend?" You say with a sigh because your baby can't grow up so fast
"I had my first one at three" He proudly informs you but you're too tensed to laugh
You keep avoiding his glance and you fiddle with your fingers as the anxiety directs your blood to your feet to run away.
"Is everything okay?" Jungkook asks, worried
"Yes. Can you... wait here please?" You reply, escaping the living room as fast as you can
You breath deeply before looking into your nightstand. The sliver ring is immediately noticeable with the way it shines under the light. A light smile appears on your face when you remember putting the ring on your best friend's finger a few years ago. After your divorce, you agreed on keeping Jungkook's ring and him yours. It was a way to always have a small part of each other as spouses. You are so glad to have it right now, even though you can feel the stress filling up your body. Are you really going to ask him to marry you? Yes, you are. The thought could make you giggle if the possibility of rejection didn't make you nauseous.
When you enter the living room, you find Jungkook sitting patiently on the couch. He immediately stands up because he can sense your uneasiness. He frowns and opens his mouth to speak but you stop him by showing the ring. Confusion is clear on your best friend's face.
"I know that it might sound crazy" You start, gathering all your courage for your confession and grabbing his left hand at the same time, the contact of your skins smooths you a bit "But you and I have shared so many things. I've never been happier than when we were married. It took me years to finally notice that..." You gulp, the next words being the most important yet scary words "I love you, Kook. I truly, deeply love you. So, will you marry me? Again?"
You end up your proposal with a hitch pitch tone that fakes chill while you're going crazy because you have just opened your heart and you feel vulnerable. You look at him and the few seconds of silence are killing you.
"No"
"No?" Your heart stops, breaks, burns or maybe everything at the same time
You feel stupid. It was so stupid to think that Jungkook would marry you or love you the way you do. You agreed on being friends years ago, why did you think something has changed? Because of the few loving eyes you shared? Because you had sex? Because he said you were the only one for him? You can't believe you've interpreted it all wrong. You want to cry but you fight the tears to maintain your dignity. And even if Jungkook doesn't want to marry you, it doesn't mean he doesn't love you because you know he does. Maybe just not the same as you do.
Jungkook starts to panic when he notices the hurt on your face. He steps closer and cups your face with his big palms.
"No, no, no, it's not what I wanted to say!" He adds quickly "I want to marry you!" The confession makes your heart jumps in your chest "God, you don't know how much I want it but you can't ask me to marry you" Now, you're the one confused and your heartbeats are going wild but you don't even know why "You can't ask me because I want to ask you. So your proposal is going to mess up all my plan to set up a very romantic diner with flowers and all that shit"
You can't help a giggle.
"I don't care about that, Kook. Our wedding was perfect as simple as it was and I don't need anything more than you and Junghee. So please, marry me?" You ask again, tears — of joy? — in your eyes
"Yes!" He exclaims, right before kissing you
The kiss is good. So damn good. You release all the stress you've accumulated and Jungkook's lips have never felt so sweet. It's addictive and you're not sure you can live without them anymore. You pull away just enough to put the ring on his finger and it fits perfectly. Not only because it was his ring before but because it belongs here. His hand seems empty without it and his life is not complete without you as his wife. The strong emotion of the moment brings tears to your eyes: it's so much love that it can't contain in your body.
"I love you" He whispers, his shiny doe eyes even brighter than usual
You are going to marry your best friend. Again. But this time, for real — but can you really say that the last time was not real? All these years, you were blind or maybe too afraid to notice that you actually were in love with him. It's in fact impossible not to when Jungkook is perfect. He is your family and not only because he is your baby daddy. He feels like home. His strong arms are your shelter and gosh, you love him so much.
"There is another thing I want to do with you" He announces, his voice deep and thick with emotion "I want to make love with you" Those words send delightful shivers down your spine "And I want another baby. Maybe not now if you're not ready, but someday"
"I'm ready" You softly reply "I've been thinking about it for a few months now and I don't want anyone else but you"
Jungkook's heart jumps in his chest and his euphoria takes control of his body. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. You gasp and laugh while you instinctively circles his hips with your legs. You put your lips on his again, craving for his touch everywhere on you. Butterflies fill your stomach when he walks to your bedroom. He delicately lands you on your bed and lifts up your dress to access your covered pussy. His eyes shines with lust and you bit your lower lip. He circles your clit with his thumb through the thin fabric, making your head roll back and your panties wetter. You wish he could just take if off already to feel him skin to skin.
He places himself between your open legs and slowly drag down your underwear. He is amazed by your glistening cunt, so appetizing. He kisses your inner thighs, which causes you to jolt a little so your future husband has to hold your legs open for him — thinking about Jungkook as that creates a fog of delicious delirium around your brain, or maybe it's just the way he touches you?
"Can I taste you?" He asks with eagerness and you blush hard
You nod and bit your lip with anticipation, and Jungkook doesn't waste time. He takes a fat lap of your arousal and hums at your sweet taste. He then gives a quick and tender kiss on your clit before diving into it shamelessly. His expert tongue rolls around your sensitive bud and you can't help tugging on his black hair. You moan, a harmonious melody to his ears. His mouth gets rougher, taking sinful gulps from your dripping pussy.
Jungkook notices your walls clenching around nothing and rectifies it by entering you with his tongue. It feels so fucking good, especially when his nose bumps against your clit.
"Oh god!" You moan, your cunt throbbing around his wet muscle
Your back arches because you want to feel him more. It's paradoxical because you don't know if you can take any more pleasure. He settles his inked hand flat on your lower tummy, appreciating the softness of your skin and willing to protect the place where his second child will develop — he hopes — soon, and takes it as an opportunity to rub your clit with his thumb. Your pussy is so wet with your arousal and his saliva that your fiancé's mouth is making sloppy yet so arousing sounds. Jungkook's hums echo into you, driving you completely crazy.
"I want you" You groan as you tug on his hair to bring his handsome yet ruined face to yours
You kiss him passionately and you taste yourself on his tongue. It feels so sinful yet so arousing. To be honest, you could have cummed just with his tongue but you want to do it around his big fat cock. And now that you know that you're going to spend the rest of your life with Jungkook, you know you can use his mouth on your cunt another time. Every time you want.
Your hands impatiently grab the hem of his shirt, urging Jungkook to reveal his perfect body to you. And he does. Your breathe gets cut. He is gorgeous. His bare torso is even more beautiful in the sunset light coming from your window, or maybe it's love that taints your vision. Your hand caresses his skin and you feel his muscles flexing under your touch. You run your hand on his biceps and abs and finally reach his own hand. You squeeze it tenderly and look at Jungkook in the eyes. The time seems to stop for a second. There is no words needed because you both know what you want to say: you love each other.
Jungkook brings your hand to his lips and kisses it before helping you to take off your dress and your bra. It's weird to be all naked in front of him because, even through it's only the second time, you feel comfortable. And you know it's because it's him. You feel his doe eyes traveling on your body, making you blush.
"You're beautiful" He tells you
"You're beautiful, too" You whispers back
Jungkook feels like he loves you even more. Every time he hears your sweet voice, every time he sees your face, every time he looks at Junghee, he loves you more. He wonders how it's even possible since his love for you is already endless.
He grabs a pillow and places it under your head to make you comfortable since he intends to make love to you all night long. His breathe aches when your hands unbutton his jeans. His own hands join yours to peel himself naked. Your thumb spreads a drop of pre cum on his tip, making Jungkook moans softly yet huskily.
He brings your legs to your chest to admire your pussy once again. He can't wait to enter you, especially when he sees your hole clenching. Fuck, it's so hot, it's like your cunt is craving for his cock. With two fingers, he penetrates you, just enough to gather enough of your juices to lube his hard length.
When his dick is shining with your essence, he grabs the base of it and brings it closer to your pussy. He looks at you another time, silently asking you if it's okay and you vigorously nod, owning a smirk from Jungkook. Your mouth falls open and your eyes shut close when the tip passes over your entrance. He goes slow, making you feel every single inch of his cock. It's so big that it stretches you in the best way possible. When he is entirely in you, you let go the air you were keeping in your lungs.
"Fuck, it's big" You moan, filling Jungkook's chest with pride
You might have had sex not so long along, the position and the no-rush of the situation makes you feel him more. Last time, you didn't really take time to appreciate how well he opens your cunt and how fucking good it feels.
"You're the one who makes me this hard" He teases but bends over to kiss you and soothes a little of your discomfort — which is not, it's pure pleasure
You want to move your legs but the inked man has other plans. He keeps them close to your chest by holding the back of your knees and starts humping into you. His pelvis snaps against your pussy and ass, making your head foggy with delight. You have to put a hand on your mouth to cover your loud moans but Jungkook doesn't like it. He frees your legs, which automatically wrap around his waist, and intertwines yours fingers with his, placing both hands next to your head.
"Let me hear you" He cockily says and you immediately groan louder — you can't really do otherwise when he is pounding harsher
"Oh god, Kook!"
You squeeze his hands harder to hold onto something, the pleasure way too big not to loose your sanity. Immediately, Jungkook's eyes are attracted by your bare finger and he frowns. He doesn't like it. With a swift move, he slides his own ring on your left forefinger. Despite the ring being too big for you, his chest is filled with happiness and pride. Your small hand adorned with his ring next to his tattooed skin is so beautiful and romantic and means everything to him that he wishes he could take a picture — he would if he wasn't ball deep inside you right now. It feels right yet extraordinary. Loving you was never a choice he made but if he had to, he would. A hundred times, in a hundred different lives.
"Look at me" He asks you gently, slowing his dick strokes a little
His pace is more passionate and romantic now, rolling his hips deep against you. Your eyes are drawn into his black irises full of love. You free your right hand and cup his face. Jungkook presses his cheek against your palm and slightly turns his head to settle a soft kiss on it. The gesture is sweet and attacks your heart.
"My beautiful man" You whisper, your eyes getting watery by the emotion even though it's hard to believe that Jungkook is now yours because you can't be this lucky
You can feel his tip brushing against your g-spot from time to time. Your fiancé gets a clue of it since your walls tighten around him. It's so fucking good and your bouncing boobs are like a challenge for him: he wants to fuck you harder to make them jolt more. So he does, the low and deep pace long forgotten to set a quick yet still deep rhythm. He grabs one tit and pinches your nipple quite hard.
"Kook!" You whine
"Sorry, I couldn't resist, I love your boobs" He apologies but still keeps his hand around your breasts
He digs his knees firmly into the mattress and straightens up to pound into you harder. He places one of your legs on his shoulder and wraps his strong arms around it to keep you in place. The change of angle sends his cock directly to your sweet spot.
"Oh, god, right here! I'm gonna come!" You notify Jungkook and he nods
"Go on, baby, make me see your pretty fucked face" He replies with grinned teeth due to the effort
The sound of your clapping skins is hot and all your senses are filled by Jungkook. Your room even smells like sex. And what a great sex... You've never felt this good while fucking because it's more than just the physical aspect, it's also the emotional side.
Your left hand reaches for one of his and your fiancé tenderly smiles at the silver band around your finger shining with the light. You feel real close to the edge. Your cunt becomes tight and Jungkook hisses with pleasure. He leads your hand to your pussy so he can use his thumb on your clit. It's what you needed to feel the wave of arousal washing over you. You loudly moan his name while you're cumming, creaming Jungkook's fat cock. He helps you reach your high with his poundings and the delicious circles he draws on your sensitive bud.
You're out of breathe when you come back to Earth and the tattooed man has slowed down his pace but he hasn't come yet. That's something you need to fix. You push on his pec to make him rest on his back. You're quick to sit on his lap, knees on both sides of his perfect and sexy body, especially with a thin layer of sweat and a heavily breathing chest. You hold his dick up to impale yourself on it.
Jungkook settles his hands on your hips and guides you to find the good rhythm. You take support on his strong chest and smile at the ring. You can't wait to have your own.
You ride him like a maniac despite your exhaustion. Your hair sticks to your forehead and to the back of your neck but you don't care. You take him deep, so deep that your clit brushes to his pelvis every time.
"Fuck, baby, you feel so good" He growls, his eyes set on your bouncing tits
He gives you a quick slap on his ass, provoking a squeak of surprise from you, soon replaced by arousal. There is a pool of mess between your legs and Jungkook can feel your juices dripping down his balls.
"I want to fill you so bad" He continues "I can't wait to see pregnant again"
His words make your heart jump and your pussy clench. Why does pregnancy turn you on so much?
"My gorgeous baby mama" He whispers, more to himself than to you but you hear him nonetheless
"If having a baby make you this hard, then we should have more than two kids" You tease him
"You make me hard and it's having a baby with you that makes me happy" He rectifies, your cheeks taking a darker shade of red
The butterflies coming from his confession spur you to faster your pace. Your ass slaps against his thighs, filling the room with sinful sounds. Jungkook squeezes your asscheeks and controls your moves by pulling you harsher on his cock.
"Fuck, you ride me so well, baby"
Your moan are louder as you feel another orgasm approaching. Your moves get unsteady and Jungkook takes over by lifting his hips and thrusting into your throbbing cunt. Your head rolls back, making your groans raspier and your hands fitting into fists on his chest.
"Kook.." You try to say between dick strokes "I'm close"
"Me too, baby" He growls
Your body shakes, your toes curl and you fall on his torso as you cum again. White dots paints your vision and you feel like in another world. Jungkook's arms wraps around your frame to hold you in place as he chases his own high. You settle some kisses in his sweaty neck and your hands run through his black hair.
"Cum inside me" You plea, driving your fiancé crazy
"Oh, fuck..." He moans as he releases his hot shots of seeds
You are both panting and none of you wants to move. So you stay like that, sweaty and exhausted but cuddling. You hum when he caresses your back and kisses your temple.
"I love you" You whisper, your head beyond the clouds because of your orgasms and your happiness
"I love you, too" He replies gently before jokingly adding "If that doesn't make you pregnant, I'll be happy to try again"
A tired laugh escapes your lips. You are happy. So, so happy right now in your best friend/baby daddy/fiancé's arms. All the things he is for you reflect how much he means in your life. Now, you can't wait to be married with him again and you add another baby to your family. Jungkook told you he wanted a girl and you find the idea very pleasing, even though a cute little boy like Junghee would be perfectly fine too.
✧˖°⋆˚ ✿˖°
2 years later
You are stressed. More than stressed actually but you can't show it to Junghee while he is so excited. You kneel in front of your five-year old — already — son. You make sure to fix his equipment again, not wanting him to get hurt.
"Are you sure it's not dangerous?" You ask your husband for the hundredth time, making him roll his eyes
"Babe, it's a children competition. They are not even allowed to hit each other except than on the chest protection" Jungkook tries to reassure you
You nod but you don't feel better. Why did you agree with your son taking boxing classes? Yeah, of course you remember: Junghee has begged you for it, wanting to be 'as cool as his dad'. With heavy heart, you let him join his friends and you head to the coach corner where your husband gives the last instructions to his students.
It's quite funny to see your big and strong husband talking with such seriousness to a bunch of children. Especially when he has a baby-carrier on his chest with your baby girl in it. Your 15 month-old daughter seems calm, sucking on her pacifier while looking with big eyes at her dad. Her cuteness makes you slowly lose your sanity every day. You step closer, not even caring about the questioning look Jungkook is sending you and you kiss your daughter on her chubby cheeks, which makes her giggle.
"Hum, babe, I'm trying to give important explanations here" He catches your attention and only then you realize that all the children are looking at you
"Oh, sorry" You apologies with blushed cheeks — but how could you resist your adorable baby?
You stay close to Jungkook the whole competition, cheering for his students. Your heart stops and you grab his hand when your son steps on the ring. He looks confident and the fierce in his eyes is similar to his dad's one before a fight. It's painful to watch Junghee getting hit, even if it's just on his chest and if he has a whole equipment to protect his small body.
When the bell rings and Junghee wins because he has given more hits than his opponent, you jump of joy — and relief.
"Mommy!" Junghee exclaims, running to you with a big bunny smile
You take him in your arms and kiss his cheeks, even though you're kissing his protection helmet more than his skin.
"You did so good, baby!" You praise him
"Gaaaaaw!" Your daughter shouts against Jungkook's chest
She certainly wants to congratulate her big brother.
"I won for you, Jiwon" Junghee proudly announces and your heart melts instantly
"I see, now you can protect your sister and mama, right?" Jungkook asks and his son nods
"Can we have pizzas for diner, please?"
You can't resist his big doe eyes. You can't believe Junghee is already five. You can even less believe that Jiwon was born almost a year and a half ago. It's just that happiness makes time pass quicker. You look at Jungkook and your smile grows wilder. You love the man, and you love even more the family he gave you. 
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 4 months
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love(rs) and war | f. odair
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summary: request here — when you signed up to become a solider in the rebellion, you never expected to be plagued with dirty thoughts of your boyfriend, finnick. who would have thought someone could make tactical gear look so good? you aren’t too sure your self-control is strong enough to make it through the night, but things take a turn when you take a shift on watch.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: established relationship, smut, thigh riding, manhandling, possessiveness, jealousy, unprotected p in v, risk of being caught, dirty thoughts/talk, mentions of war, angst, singular use of y/n please forgive me, gale, slow-burn-ish, emotional sex, teasing, fluff
notes: everyone say happy birthday to @odairsaurora
word count: 12.8k dear god
Becoming a soldier in the rebellion against the Capitol came with a lot of certitude and not exactly the good kind. The likelihood of encountering death was extreme. Making it out alive was possible; making it out unscathed wasn’t. Even if you survived, you would be left with a life-long mental scar as a reminder of everything you have endured.
You knew all this when you signed up.
Even with all that knowledge, there were still countless uncertainties. Like not knowing where you would be laying your head to rest at night. Not knowing if you would even survive to be given the chance to rest at night. Being in a constant state of fight or flight. Always looking over your shoulder to make sure a squad member hadn’t been lost to a Peacekeeper or a pod or a mutt. Making sure you hadn’t lost the love of your life. Finnick.
But those uncertainties were predictable in combat—an oxymoron you had managed to wrap your war-torn mind around.
Something you never could have predicted was the lust. The overwhelming, all-consuming desire for Finnick that had engulfed you like a tonne of bricks the moment the first explosive pod went off and your sense of safety plummeted six feet below the ground.
Fire erupted in the air between the two buildings Katniss had shot her arrow through. Everyone was crouched together, watching in awe as they witnessed the sadistic lengths Snow was willing to go in an attempt to keep the rebels from reaching him. Your heart was beating so fast and every loud boom caused by the destruction had you recoiling in on yourself.
Finnick too was watching beside you, wearing a boyish grin as his shoulders shook lightly with suppressed laughter. He always was more favourable to dark humour, finding hilarity in situations others would find disturbing. You found it strangely attractive.
As you stared at him, the initial shock of the explosion started to wear off until it was no longer registering in your mind. All you could focus on was the dangerous curve of his lips, wishing they were somewhere on your body. Anywhere.
When he realised you were staring at him, his smile dropped and was replaced with a look of concern. He leaned towards you, voice a whisper though loud enough to be heard over the blaze in the distance, “You okay?”
You weren’t sure how to tell him your body was pulsating with fear, adrenaline, and desire all at once, so you nodded and hummed a pitchy, “Mhm.”
You suspected it had something to do with the dangerous situation you were in. The possibility that any moment with him could be your last. With this information, your body seemed to switch into survival mode, only ‘survival mode’ seemed to mean it yearned to spend every possible second you had left with him. Which, yes, included wanting him to fuck your brains out every time he merely looked in your direction.
And the uniform, Jesus Christ, the uniform... Whoever designed it was a miracle worker. Quite literally.
In your eyes, nothing could have made Finnick look more attractive than he already was. That man radiated unparalleled beauty even on his worst days. But the second you saw him dressed head-to-toe in black tactical gear you knew you were sorely mistaken. He looked so commanding. So gorgeous.
So dominant.
Never, absolutely never had you been more attracted to anyone than you were to Finnick right at the moment. You felt like you had reverted to a younger version of yourself, the one before you were in a relationship—shy, flustered, and stuck in a state of constant lewd daydreams.
He was adorned in straps and pockets for weapons and equipment, chest protected by sleek black armour. The only skin he had uncovered was from his neck up and his hands, making that tiny sliver of exposure so much more alluring than it should have been. His right thigh was strapped with a gun holster that cinched around his muscular thighs. You couldn’t pinpoint why this made you so desperate to sit in his lap or straddle his thigh and just—
“It’ll be getting dark soon,” said Lieutenant Jackson, pulling you from your thoughts. “We need to find somewhere to settle in ‘til the morning. Streets’ll be even more dangerous at night.”
Nods of agreement echoed around the group. Messalla, you believed his name was, had mentioned there being a place nearby that could be used to camp out for the night. From avoiding hidden pods and scaling over rubble, it was clear what should have been a fifteen-minute journey would turn into an hour-long expedition.
Not that you were complaining.
Sure, that sounded selfish, but nobody was perfect, right? You were certain anyone else would feel the same if they got to spend an entire hour admiring their partner—who just happened to be Finnick Odair—looking incredible whilst doing something as ordinary as walking. His black cargo pants kept tightening around his thighs with each smooth step he took. He kept alternating between holding his trident beside him and over his shoulder, muscles flexing through the thick material of his jacket each time he switched positions.
Sometimes you accidentally found yourself falling behind in pace, a subconscious desire to just watch him walk. It would take him a few seconds before he realised you weren’t beside him anymore and then he would look back to find you staring in a flustered daze.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just regaining my energy,” you had replied.
He must’ve known it was a lie. He had to. Though if he did, he didn’t say anything about it, just simply raised an eyebrow and held out his hand for you to take, which you did.
His fingers interlaced with yours. “I can carry you if you want?”
“Thanks, but I think I might die of mortification.”
He laughed something deep and beautiful in response, voice vibrant as he spoke, “At least it’d be in my arms.”
It was such a disconcerting sentence, but the sound of his voice was so alluring that you were conflicted between feeling distressed and turned on.
Eventually, you ended up finding the location Messalla was talking about, discovering that it was a ransacked cocktail bar nearing the outskirts of the city. Everyone was quiet as they settled in, the atmosphere heavy with both purpose and apprehension. Not Finnick though. He was his usual lively self, managing to pull a few responses from various squad members with his charming banter, even gaining a few small smiles here and there.
It took everything in you not to jump into his arms and crush your lips against his whenever he wrapped a large hand around your waist as he stood beside you during briefings about strategy and navigating the city. He kept asking if something was wrong, kept giving you these funny looks in response to your strange behaviour, but you refused to tell him. It was wrong. Positively immoral.
You eventually sat together on a long leather stool, shoulders pressed up against one another, his hand wrapped innocently around your thigh in a need for constant connection. He kept trying to make conversation with you, but you could barely muster up a single sentence in response. Not with his hand touching you so. Not with him looking like that.
His hair was dishevelled in the most perfect way that not even a prep team could attempt to reconstruct it. In any other circumstance, your hands would have already found their way into his golden locks, tugging and scratching lightly to coax a pleasured sigh from his lips. In any other circumstance, your lips would have already attached themselves to the exposed skin of his neck, tracing the length of his artery with your tongue so he would be tilting his head to the side in a silent plea for more.
In any other circumstance, you would be sitting in his lap, hearing the rough material of his attire rustle against yours as you felt him thrust in and out of you.
You crossed your legs.
“What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”
You blinked back into existence. Finnick was staring at you, his hand now interlocked with your own and stroking the side of your palm with his thumb. A ray of golden setting sunlight painted a strip of light across the lower half of his face, across his mouth. Your gaze flickered between his eyes and lips, lingering longer and longer on the latter. They stretched into a sweet, reassuring smile. He must have thought you were anxious.
“It’s okay to be scared, you know,” he continued. “Everyone here is scared. I’m scared. I know it may not look like it because I’m just so effortlessly calm and collected—” His expression morphed into faux-arrogance for a moment, lips smirking and eyes sparkling with smugness, and your stomach did a somersault “—but I am. So it’s okay to admit that you are too. I just need you to talk to me.”
You felt so guilty like you had just committed the worst crime in the world. He was on an entirely different wavelength to you, all concerned about your wellbeing meanwhile your thoughts were running rampant with lust. It bordered on nymphomania. You felt like the worst person alive. Why were you thinking about sex in a time like this? Why did Finnick have to be wearing tactical gear? Why, why, why, why, why?
The sudden need to confess was overwhelming and the way he was looking at you so intently wasn’t helping. Then his hand was back on your thigh and kneading it gently in encouragement.
Your thighs squeezed together. God help you if he felt it.
The confession was threatening to burst from the tip of your tongue: You just look so fucking sexy right now and I’m afraid that if I don’t feel you inside me soon I might actually die but I’m also terrified to tell you because I know I shouldn’t be feeling this way when we are literally in the middle of a war and the fact that you are so oblivious is turning me on so much more so please take me into a supply closet and fuck some sense into me before I lose my fucking mind—
Woah.
Could it be the effects of a pod? Did the Gamemakers release some sort of invisible gas that acted as an aphrodisiac which was lethal without relief? If that were true, wouldn’t everyone else be in the same boat as you were? Wouldn’t everyone else look as flustered and rigid as you did right now? Wouldn’t Finnick?
No. It was just you. Somehow that made it even worse.
Finnick’s brows arched inwards as he awaited your response. Your mind flashed back to another time when his brows were arching and lips were spilling filthy obscenities due to your own manipulation. Jesus fucking Christ, your stomach felt so tight it ached. You were throbbing at the thought of it.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
The words were rising into your throat no matter how hard you tried to swallow them. Your mouth opened to speak, disregarding all the consequences that came with admitting such a thing in such an inappropriate situation. And then the sound of an engine in the distance suddenly cut you off.
Everyone moved onto their feet, on alert due to the incoming vehicle.
“Stand down everyone. It’s friendly,” said Jackson.
You weren’t too sure ‘friendly’ had been the right term as you watched Peeta step out of the rover Coin had sent him in.
His arrival brought with him a heightened sense of tension. There was no telling what state of mind he was in or when he was going to snap and become the violent hijacked version of himself. Finnick had decided to take on the responsibility of assigning himself Peeta’s guard to make sure he didn’t cause harm to anyone in the squad or himself. Also because that’s just who Finnick was. Selfless and kind.
And where Finnick went, so did you, meaning his already highly protective nature over you increased monumentally. He never let you out of his sight, always kept you within arms-length, and always kept a hand somewhere on your body. You really, really did try to contain yourself. You tried to suppress the heat flushing your entire body. Tried not to sigh every time his fingers pressed into your waist the slightest bit or whenever he curled his hand around your inner thigh and gave it a territorial squeeze as you sat beside each other on the leather couch. But it was so hard when he was acting so dominating over you.
Even Peeta who was aloof and struggling with his sanity half the time seemed to notice Finnick’s sudden possessiveness.
“Afraid I’m gonna try and take her off you, Finnick?” Peeta had said.
It was meant to be a joke, but the tone of his voice was so flat and devoid of life, it made you feel a little uneasy.
Finnick’s hold on you tightened ever-so-slightly and his jaw clenched. It must have been so strange for him. You hadn’t known Peeta before moving to District Thirteen, but Finnick did. You had heard stories of the boy who enjoyed baking and painting, who was known for his love for Katniss and his kindness that never wavered even when thrown into an arena and forced to murder other tributes.
That was the boy Finnick knew; the person in front of him now was a stranger.
Peeta must have sensed the tension he had caused as he averted his gaze. “Kidding.” And then a few seconds later, he murmured, “Sorry.”
You felt terrible watching as the little life he had in his eyes seemed to deflate even more than they had as he internally berated himself. How awful it must be to not have control over yourself, to be a broken shell of the person you once were. You couldn’t imagine the same happening to Finnick—the light he exuded dimming to a cold, dark, pale glow. The mere thought of it had your heart threatening to break in two.
Finnick’s grip on you relaxed and his eyes grew softer. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, empathy pervading his voice. He was quiet for a short moment before he started smiling softly to himself. “But Peeta—” Peeta’s attention was back on him “—just for future reference: sharing is caring is not a concept I apply to Y/N.”
For the first time since his rescue, you saw Peeta smile back at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
**********
Darkness had finally veiled the city, drenching the bar in ominous shadows and beams of silver moonlight. Silence filled the room apart from the occasional startled gasp or yelp as multiple squad members awoke from horrific nightmares. The very back of the bar was scattered with various sleeping figures, most lying on the floor in an attempt to remain unseen from any potential passers-by outside.
It was your shift on watch, hours twenty-two hundred to zero-one hundred. You were sitting on the same leather stool as earlier but now it was positioned so that you had a clear view of the streets outside.
Finnick had tried to convince Boggs to let him take your shift for you, being his usual chivalrous self and all. But much to his dismay, not even his charm and million-dollar smile could persuade that man. Then he offered to join you, but you refused. Spending time alonewith him atnight would have been disastrous; even during the day, you had a hard time keeping your feelings under wraps.
The final stretch was coming up with twenty minutes to go. The boredom was a killer, leaving you to alternate between scanning the streets and glancing over to where Finnick slept. Well, knowing him, he was probably wide awake worrying about you being left alone for three hours, picturing different anxiety-inducing scenarios behind his closed eyes.
One of his legs was arched whilst the other was extended flat on the floor. He had an arm behind his head acting as a pillow and his other hand was lying on his stomach, fingers subtly tapping in a wave-like pattern.
Definitely awake.
That little detail certainly fuelled your imagination, knowing he was right there lying awake with you on his mind whilst everyone else was probably asleep. What really had your mind buzzing was the fact that the hem of his jacket had ridden up, just barely exposing the tanned skin of his torso and the contour of his v-line which led down to his—wait, was he smiling?
Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but you swore his lips were curving into a small smirk. But that would mean he knew you were staring at him…
You turned back around to the streets, blushing deeply.
“No,” you murmured to yourself. “You’re just tired.”
Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. But as you stared out into the night air, the only image that plagued your mind was one of Finnick fucking Odair smirking.
Goosebumps washed over your body, sensitive against the rough material of your attire. First, he was smirking, then he was taking you into his arms, then he was kissing you, caressing you, sliding a hand beneath your shirt, into your pants. You almost reached the part you enjoyed the most, but a troubling noise pulled you from your thoughts. A pair of footsteps.
Heavy and purposeful, they came from behind you.
Oh god, you thought, feeling the anticipation build exponentially inside you. He saw me looking. He knows. He knows what I’ve been thinking all day. He knows. What am I going to do? What am I going to say? What—
“Hey,” a deep voice said quietly.
You looked up to find Katniss’s blue-eyed counterpart standing beside the couch.
“Gale?”
Oh, thank god.
“Yeah.” He sat down beside you with a soft grunt. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Even he knew you were expecting Finnick. You shook your head at him as if the idea was absurd, but in reality, you were a little disappointed. Although your shoulders were only just now dropping back into a relaxed state, you found a deep part of yourself actually wanting Finnick to come and find you out. The anticipation, harrowing as it was, was also exhilarating.
All you could think about was him interrogating you, pulling answers from your lips with just a stern look. Towering over you in his black tactical gear, muscular arms crossed and shoulders broad. Teasing you in an unforgiving tone for thinking such dirty things about him even though you knew he was having the exact same thoughts.
Gale shifted beside you and you suddenly realised you had spoken in well over a minute.
You cleared your throat. “Can’t sleep?”
He stared straight ahead, breathing out a half-hearted chuckle as though your question was a fleeting amusement. “Course not.”
Gale was alright. He was a little too headstrong and insensitive at times, but he wasn’t terrible. Pretty much anyone who wasn’t Snow or stood with Capitol was alright in your books. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, didn’t like him one bit.
“You know if Finnick sees you, you’re in for it, right?” you warned, giving him a short glance.
“He doesn’t like me very much, does he?”
Your eyebrows raised, inhaling a deep breath as you recalled their brief history. The first time they met, Gale had believed Finnick was in love with Katniss—something the two of you found humour in almost religiously—and therefore, spent most his days shooting glares and making snide comments towards him.
It came as quite a shock to Gale when he discovered it wasn’t Katniss who Finnick was in love with, but you. How he hadn’t realised sooner was beyond the both of you as you and Finnick were pretty much attached to the hip. He got there in the end, at least.
First impressions were everything though. After that, Finnick never really grew to enjoy Gale’s presence too much. During field training for the rebellion, Fate decided to spur on their little feud even further by having you be paired up with Gale for training exercises. Neither of you was very happy about it in the beginning, wanting to be with each other’s loved ones instead. Shockingly, your shared time together sparked up a small friendship.
Finnick wasn’t the most approving.
“He thinks you like me,” you said.
He looked at you, brows furrowed. “I do like you.”
See? Even Gale couldn’t comprehend what you really meant because of how ridiculous it was. You shot him a knowing look.
His expression morphed into one of understanding. “Oh, as in like you like you. Really? Does he not know that I li—”
“Like Katniss? Yes, I’ve told him many times.”
“Well, I guess some people just won’t be told.”
You scoffed, recalling how he had the same way of thinking not too long ago. Oh, how the tables have turned. “That’s rich coming from you.”
Gale laughed quietly, nodding as his gaze moved back to the darkness. “Yeah, guess you’re right.”
“Am I interrupting something?”
Your head whirled to the side, heart jolting in your chest.
There Finnick was, standing beside the stool as he smiled politely at you and Gale, his eyes burning with anything but civility. Your heart dropped at the sight of him. Down into your stomach and then even further below in between your thighs.
His lips twitched as he looked between the two of you. His piercing eyes settled on yours for a moment; the way you gulped was almost comical.
“No,” Gale said cautiously. “Just passing time.”
Finnick nodded indifferently and averted his gaze as though he hadn’t a worry in the world. You knew better though. You knew there was a fire scorching just below his skin, boiling in his bloodstream—the common symptoms of jealousy. They were symptoms you knew all too well. People often had trouble keeping their eyes off him back in Thirteen. Sometimes their hands too. That’s when your jealousy turned to loathing. A feeling you and Finnick both shared whenever it happened.
“Then you won’t mind if I join you?” he asked, although it came out more like a command.
Was it wrong to find Finnick being jealous so attractive?
“Actually, I, uh,” Gale stammered, pushing himself up onto his feet, “I should probably be getting some sleep.”
You couldn’t blame his slight panic. Finnick could be incredibly intimidating when he wanted to be.
Gale shot you a tight parting smile and you mouthed an apology in return.
“Wise choice,” Finnick said as Gale walked past him and began making his way to the back of the bar. You were surprised neither of them knocked shoulders as he did. Though Finnick did add a sarcastic “Sweet dreams!” as you both watched Gale disappear into the shadows.
You turned back to Finnick to see him already looking at you, pride gleaming in his eyes. What a man.
“You’re such an ass.”
He smiled at you humorously. “Only to him.”
You shook your head. “He doesn’t even—”
“Like you? Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said, and a flash of a smile graced your lips at the way he cut you off the same way you did Gale. Always so in tune with each other. Honestly, it was a wonder you ever managed to have a conversation with one another. He sat down beside you, his legs brushing against yours. “Call me possessive. Maybe a little obsessed too.”
“A little?”
“Okay, very.”
“Don’t worry,” you said, smiling openly now, “the feeling’s mutual.”
He returned your smile with one of his own and for a second, for a tiny splinter of a second, you had a flicker of hope that you might be able to handle being alone with him after all.
“Well, I’d certainly hope so,” he murmured warmly.
Then his hand was sliding onto your thigh, fingers curling and kneading innocently.
It was like a fiery aura suddenly reignited around him, both magnetising and disastrously alluring. Your eyes widened slightly from his touch. That overwhelming attraction from before returned with a tenfold increase in intensity. It was so powerful that you had to look away.
A deafening silence settled between you. Despite this, your thoughts were thunderous; so loud that it was impossible to tune them out. He had to know what he was doing to you, how he was making you feel—it was practically scrawled in bold red writing across your forehead.
Your arms were folded over your lap, afraid that if you moved them you would lose control. You glanced at Finnick to see him staring out at the shadowed buildings with a thoughtful gaze. His jaw was set in place, angled perfectly like it had been chiselled with a file. That spot where his jawline and neck connected was just begging for the touch of your lips. Or was it the other way around?
Your eyes fell further to see his other hand resting on his own thigh, clad in now-tightly-fitted black cargo pants.
Big, veiny hands. Big, muscular thighs. Big, throbbing…
Oh, no, this was all too much. You were supposed to be fighting a war, not your own damn carnal urges.
“You’ve barely spoken to me today,” Finnick suddenly spoke in a gentle tone. The guilt increased. “If you’re feeling like this is too much to handle then there’s no shame in going back home.” Shame. Guilt. Too much. “We can return to base and get a hovercraft back to Thirteen. Both of us. I’ll be right by your side. Always.”
God, you loved him so much.
“I love you so much,” you accidentally exhaled.
His expression morphed into one of puzzlement, reflecting what you felt on the inside when the words slipped past your lips. “I love you too?” he chuckled.
You quickly tried to recompose yourself. “But—uh, it’s—it’s not that.”
“No?” He tilted his head. “What is it then?”
On the outside you were composed, disregarding the hot pink flooding your cheeks, although it was probably too dark to be seen. But on the inside, panicked mantras ricocheted from every corner of your mind over and over. A war between two sides, two voices that said, “Tell him” and “Don’t tell him” was raging. You were starting to grow tired of the constant indecision, the ever-present need to confess, and the unrelenting tightness in your stomach you felt whenever you so much as thought about him.
So finally, you decided to create a side of your own. You were going to show him.
Your eyes dropped to the hand curled around your thigh and you inhaled a silent deep breath. Tentatively, you unfolded your arms and moved to rest your hand on top of Finnick’s. He remained still, only watching your movements with curiosity. Your gaze trailed up his arm, over his broad shoulders, the tempting length of his neck, the sharpness of his jaw, and then finally landed on his hypnotically green eyes.
He was looking at you and you were looking at him. There was no point in trying to conceal the fervent darkness manifesting in your gaze nor how it kept dropping to his soft pink lips. He noticed. You knew he did because he too was starting to succumb to the darkness and, fuck, did it look incredible on him.
You hadn’t meant to do it—squeezing your thighs around his hand. It was just, the ache was growing too much for you to handle without relief, and he looked so damn good.
Finnick’s eyes squinted ever-so-slightly at your revealing gesture and they seemed to impossibly grow a shade darker.
“What have you been thinking about?” he asked slowly.
And it was at this point you were certain that he was finally coming to some understanding. It was easy to tell from his twisted smile and scrunched brows, the way he spoke as though he was baiting you into giving an answer he already knew.
Your lips parted as you stared up at him, finding your breaths to become shaky and slightly heavier as the tension thickened. Finnick’s fingertips pressed firmly into your inner thighs and you let out a quiet gasp.
He knows, he knows, he knows.
“Hm?” he pressed further.
Somehow the space between you and Finnick had closed drastically without you even noticing. His face was five or so inches away from yours, peering down at you with a smirk he was trying to repress. He smelled of sea salt and smoky debris though still had a hint of that one rich scent of cologne you always found so intoxicating.
“I’ve been…”
He was closer now. You could feel his breath fanning across your skin.
“You’ve been…?” he enticed, knowing he was making it so much harder for you to conjure the words.
Your hand was clutching his because if he so much as shifted a millimetre, you would lose it. You couldn’t move. Your eyes were on Finnick’s lips, watching as they grew closer and closer. How could he expect you to tell him anything when you were immobilised from his touch? How could he tease you so when you were very obviously having a hard time keeping yourself composed?
Instinctively, your head was beginning to tilt forward to give him easier access, even though you knew he wouldn’t give you anything unless you gave him an answer first. But you couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t. The words were there on the tip of your tongue, but they wouldn’t leave your mouth. And you were absolutely certain of this when the warm touch of his soft lips grazed your own.
It was too much. Too much and too wrong.
“I’m thinking…” you began with a whisper, feeling your lips ghost over his, “it’s your turn to keep watch, Solider.”
His eyes snapped up to yours as you pulled away.
Without a word, you rose to your feet, feeling Finnick’s hand slide off your thigh; for a split second, you regretted your decision. You turned away, inhaling shaky breaths as you attempted to round the corner of the leather stool. Anxiety buzzed through your entire body and rightfully so, because just as you made it around the bend, you heard a pair of rushed footsteps trailing after you.
Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you backwards.
A startled gasp made it halfway past your lips before a large hand was clamped over your mouth. The other, which had forced you backwards, was splayed across your lower abdomen—very much lower, mind you—and had your back trapped against the firm torso of your capture.
Your heart was already thrumming like a hummingbird inside your chest, but it just about gave out when you felt the hard length pressed against your backside.
Finnick’s words were hot in your ear. “That’s not fair, sweetheart,” he spoke, his tone disapproving and full of false offence. “You’ve been giving me the eyes all day, yet you can’t even admit it when I ask nicely?”
Horror ran cold through your blood and your eyes widened.
He must have sensed the rigidness in your body as the next sound that came from his mouth was a low chuckle. “What, you thought I hadn’t noticed?”
You were in shock. Borderline catatonic in his arms. Every time you crossed your legs whenever the pressure between them became too much. Every time you fell behind the group to watch him walk. Every time you stared at him imagining that he was pounding into you or had his mouth between your thighs. He knew. The whole fucking time, he knew.
The hand covering your mouth lowered to your neck and held it gently, thumb stroking a delicate trail over your skin as Finnick awaited your response. You were hastily scanning the room in front of you, praying that all its occupants were either dead asleep or blinded by the darkness.
“I didn’t mean to,” you squeaked out. “I tried to—to control it.”
Your head was turned abruptly and suddenly shadowed green eyes were peering down into your own.
“You didn’t mean to,” he mocked. “That’s what you tell yourself, sweetheart, but every time you looked in my direction, you were dragging me towards you.”
His hand, which was on your stomach, lowered a quarter inch and your own hand went flying to prevent it. Not because you didn’t want him to go any further, but because you were scared of having an… audible reaction that might reveal both you and Finnick to the group.
“And deep down that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” he continued.
Your lips were parted though not a single word could pass them. Your inner brows were cinched upwards, the speechlessness evident in your expression. Finnick quickly realised this was the case and his eyes twinkled with mischief under the moonlight.
He lowered his head into the space between your jaw and shoulders, pressing an agonisingly slow kiss to your neck. Your head automatically tilted to the side, a soft sigh escaping your mouth as your eyes closed.
He then returned to hover beside your ear. “Wasn’t it?” he asked again, the sound smooth like warm honey.
And you couldn’t help but submit to his trickery. “Yes,” you whispered, leaning into his chest as a silent plea for more.
“Tell me.”
Your eyes fluttered open. “What?”
His hand dipped much further below your lower abdomen and landed on the place which would surely have you both sent back to Thirteen if caught, but only for a fleeting moment. Before you had a chance to react, he had spun you around to face him.
From the way he was looking down upon you—so penetrative and depraved—you knew exactly how the night would end. For better or for worse. He was holding you tightly against his body, the only parts of yourself not touching him were your lips, although that would undoubtedly soon change.
“Tell me,” he said, lowering himself until his lips found your jaw, “what you’ve been thinking about—” Then he placed another kiss on the side of your neck “—all day.” And then he pressed another to your collarbone.
Your fingers had found themselves delving into his hair as he continued leaving hot kisses across your skin. The struggle to keep a whine or soft moan from slipping past your parted lips was excruciating. Finnick could definitely feel your struggle from the way you were lightly tugging at his hair.
“Tell me,” he repeated against your skin and you accidentally let a heavy, pleasured breath escape.
There was no point in denying him now.
“You just look so good, Finn,” you confessed.
You were certain you could feel him smiling into each kiss he placed. He only hummed to encourage you further, so you did.
“I’ve—I’ve never seen you in all black before or in tactical gear. And the way you’ve been acting towards me, so serious and protective and…” The word dominant was on your tongue, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak it aloud. “Seeing you like that really…” He finally lifted his head from your neck, lips now a deep peachy shade, gaze awaiting your words. You lowered your eyes bashfully for a moment before returning them to his. “…turned me on.”
He was grinning now. His head had tilted an inch to the side as though he hadn’t quite expected you to actually admit your thoughts. Where the sudden surge of confidence came from was unknown, but you welcomed it nonetheless. Finnick’s mouth opened to speak but it was then in that very moment that you decided why the hell not just get it all out at once?
So, you stood on your toes, placed a hand on the back of his neck, and brought him down to your lips to cut him off. You kissed him deeply, sensually, in a way that would muddle his thoughts and give you time to continue your confession. When you were done and saw that slightly dazed look in his eyes, you knew it had worked.
“I’m not finished,” you whispered.
All he could do was scoff quietly in disbelief. Hell, even you were in disbelief of yourself.
“At first, I thought somehow you had done it on purpose. You do love to tease me, don’t you?” you asked, although it was rhetorical. “But then I realised it wasn’t your doing. It was the designers back in Thirteen who I had to thank for putting you in something like this.” You slid a hand up his torso, over his chest, and then down the length of his bicep, and he watched you every step of the way.
“Maybe I should thank them myself if this is the effect it has,” Finnick said.
You kissed him again and he seemed to understand the meaning behind it: shut up. He nodded, smirking humorously, and you continued. “Do you know how hard it was for me to sit beside you and do absolutely nothing?” you asked, but he knew better than to answer. You pressed a hand to his chest and slowly began walking him backwards. “You did, didn’t you?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed back his words. He always liked being in control. But it was your turn now. He stared down at you, thoughts of sin visible in his eyes as you spoke.
“You knew the whole time,” you said. “But, you know, the idea I had of you being so clueless turned me on even more.” You continued walking him backwards until his legs hit the edge of the leather stool and he was forced to sit down and have you look down upon him. He looked good like that, you thought. “Especially whenever you put your hand on my thigh.”
With that being said, you lowered yourself onto Finnick’s thigh, straddling him with one leg on either side. Your hands were holding onto his broad, broad shouldersandhis arms automatically wound around your waist. He had this strange look on his face as he gazed up at you, a mix of admiration and love and… submission? Yes, submission.
You pushed his hair back from his forehead, fingers affectionately combing through the soft bronze strands. He only watched you in silence. Finnick Odair had never been rendered speechless in his life. Having it be first done so by you only made him love you so much more. He would daresay he was proud.
“Every time you put your hand on me, I imagined this,” you said, putting more of your weight on his thigh until you could feel the blissful pressure between your own. A hot shaky sigh left your mouth. “I… I imagined you holding me like this, looking at me the way you are right now.” A little smile stretched across his lips. “I didn’t think it would actually happen. Not like this. This is wrong.”
Finnick dragged your body closer to him and you suppressed the urge to moan. His brows were furrowed together with a look of firmness. “There’s nothing wrong with you loving me,” he finally spoke. “Nothing wrong with me loving you, either.”
“But in a time like this? A place like this?”
He didn’t miss a beat as he smirked and shrugged. “We just have to be quiet about it.”
You stared at him for a moment. He made it sound so simple, like doing something like this could be done with ease. There was a large group of people—soldiers, no less—thirty feet away from you. Yes, they were sleeping and, yes, the darkness was too blinding in the back of the bar to see a foot ahead of you, but still, if anyone somehow saw, that would be the end of your dignity.
Finnick seemed to notice the distant look in your eye. His hands moved down to your hips and he tensed the thigh you were straddling, holding you down on his leg as he bounced it once. The sound that came out of your mouth, a noise of shock and pleasure, almost made him laugh. What it did do was make him even harder than he already was.
“You’ve tortured me all day, Finnick,” you whined, pressing your forehead to his.
He brought a hand to your cheek, stroking the line of your cheekbone with tenderness. “And what is it that you think you have done to me every single day since we first met, sweetheart? I just had to make sure there wasn’t a power imbalance in this relationship, that’s all.”
“You’re cruel.”
“So cruel,” he agreed with the slightest teasing pout. “I’m just horrible, aren’t I?”
To emphasise his point, he brought both his hands back to your hips, held you down, and slowly began rocking you back and forth over his thigh. Your stomach dropped and pulsed and, christ, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had turned inside out altogether. A moan, too loud for your comfort, left your mouth. You couldn’t help it. This was exactly what you had been daydreaming about all day.
“You are,” you whispered with a shaky breath. “Horrible, cruel, and—and incredibly frustrating…”
He tsked his tongue. “I know,” he cooed, continuing to force your hips to grind on his thigh. “Should I make it up to you?”
“I might go crazy if you don’t.”
He wore a lopsided grin. “Well, we wouldn’t want that.”
And as suddenly and beautifully as stars could collide, your lips were on his. It was like a bout of adrenaline had surged through your body. Your hands were in Finnick’s hair, desperately pulling him closer all while tugging at the strands so he would leave those deep, pleasured sounds on your lips.
His hands were everywhere. They had left your hips because it was clear that you were now doing to work of getting yourself off for him and now he was grasping at any place on your body he could reach. He had encircled your waist and pulled you tightly against him. He had held you by the back of the neck, by the jaw, by the neck. He had managed to undo your ponytail, letting your hair fall around your face like a barrier from the outside world.
He had slid his hands under your jacket and left a trail of warmth up your spine, fingers pressing into the ridges of your shoulder blades as his tongue factored in to deepen the kiss. You would never get used to it—how he managed to make every kiss and act of devotion feel like the first. You would never get used to Finnick’s love.
You held onto his shoulders, grinding yourself down over and over, feeling the firmness of his thigh and the roughness of your pants rub against your clit. Your lips parted from his for a mere second as you moaned. It felt so good yet still, you knew it could be even better. It was all too much—the sensations, the risk, the way Finnick looked—and still not enough. You wanted to be closer to him.
Your leg which was in between his was rubbing against his cock each time you moved. Even through all those layers of clothing you could feel it, hard and aching. All those sounds you knew he was keeping locked up inside, the deep guttural groans, the shaky moans, you wanted to hear them. Fuck, you so desperately wanted to hear them.
“Finn…” you sighed contently as you broke away from his lips.
Hips still grinding, you peered at him through your lashes. His eyes were closed, eyebrows scrunched together as though he were suppressing the pleasure he was feeling. Anywhere but here, you thought, why couldn’t we be anywhere but here?
“Finnick…” you whispered again.
He slowly opened his eyes, and you leaned your forehead against his. A heavy exhale left his body, one he must have been holding in. “God, you’re perfect,” he sighed and reached a hand up to cup your jaw. “I love you so much. Do you know how much I love you?”
Bombs were going off in your chest, each one exploding with every thump of your heart. It was fitting considering your circumstances. Finnick was so beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, and you loved him with every inch of your entire being and you wanted to say the words because this very well could be your last night alive together, but you weren’t too sure if you could speak without making any other type of noise.
So, you brought your lips back to his once more, kissing him oh so deeply and reverently. I love you, I love you, I love you. And then his touch was gone entirely.
You had slid off his thigh, now on your feet as you looked down at him. He looked almost pained to have you out of his arms and you were certain you looked the same, though it wouldn’t be for long. After a quick scan of the dark surroundings, you deduced that there was no way anyone could see you from the back of the bar. You returned your gaze back to Finnick.
Eyes unrelenting from his, you began slowly dragging down the zipper on your jacket. As it fell to the floor, you moved on to pulling your undershirt over your head. Finnick’s attention never wavered. He followed each and every movement you made, his chest inflating more heavily with each deep breath he took.
After unbuttoning your pants and letting them slide to the floor, you stepped out of the pile of clothing, completely bare except for your underwear and bra. It wasn’t exactly warm nor cold but being so exposed in the dead of night in a place you were supposed to be keeping watch while under the watchful wandering gaze of your love was bound to shroud your body in chills.
You hugged your arms around yourself.
Finnick simply looked at you as though you were the most, if not, the only beautiful thing that had ever graced the earth.
“Come here,” he said softly, holding out his hand.
The confidence you had previously felt simmered down into meek submission the second you had stripped bare in front of him. So, as you walked towards him, you couldn’t help but feel the timidness reveal itself in each of your steps. Your hand glided into his and he gently pulled you forward, guiding you to straddle his entire lap instead of just his thigh.
You could feel him pressing into you, his cock separated by mere millimetres of fabric from where you needed him most. It felt even more intimate to have his clothing against your exposed skin; you could feel the warmth of his body trapped within the threads of his pants and jacket and it seemed to ease your nerves.
He reached between your bodies and started to unzip his own jacket, but wasn’t the main reason you were in this position because of his clothing? Why would you want him to take them off?
Before he could unzip, you placed your hand over his. “No,” you said. “Leave it on.”
His eyes flickered silently between yours. “No one’s ever told me to keep my clothes on before,” he said, and you could tell by his confused smile that he was unsure whether to feel amused by the irony of your actions or saddened by his past with the Capitol.
It was easy for you to decipher your own feelings—your heart ached for him.
You leaned forward and took his face into your hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead, then both his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and finally to his lips. All you could do was hope he felt the immeasurable love you placed into each one.
“You are just as attractive with your clothes on as you are when they’re not,” you whispered.
And it was true. If he at any point decided he no longer wanted you to see him naked, you would respect it, you would understand it, and honestly, it just wouldn’t phase you. Because you knew that he would react the same if the roles were reversed. Because your love for each other surpassed the bounds of your physical bodies and you were certain at the dawn of time, he and you were two atoms revolving around one another with the same amount of gravity and reverence you shared now.
Finnick’s hands were now gliding up and down your back; it was like he was setting a fire beneath your skin. His eyes were staring into yours, so full of emotion that you weren’t sure whether or not you should continue.
“Tell me you don’t want this, Finn,” you said, “and we’ll stop.”
He shook his head and offered you a small smile. “I want this,” he said, earnestly. “I want you, sweetheart. Right here. Right now.” And then he was holding your face in his hands as well, bringing you closer. “Always.”
Just before his lips found yours, you whispered in response, in agreement, “Always.”
He was kissing you again, smothering you with love. You had never thought suffocation could feel so heavenly. Over and over, his lips captured yours, each movement deepening the kiss, making it grow in power until you were both gasping for air each time you had a brief respite.
You had only realised you were rolling your hips again when both you and Finnick were moaning into each other’s mouths and your clit started to grow sensitive from the friction of his bulged pants. It really didn’t take long at all for your stomach to begin tightening with pleasure.
You held onto his shoulders, using them to grind yourself faster on his lap as your need for release grew wilder by the second. But no matter how hard or fast you moved, it still wasn’t enough.
“I can’t wait anymore,” you murmured against his lips.
Your hands dropped down to the lower half of his body, pulling up the bottom of his jacket to reveal his belt. You fumbled with the clasp, hastily trying to unbuckle it. Finnick noticed your struggle and lifted his hips into your pelvis—dear fucking god—making it easier for you to tug the belt from the loops of his pants.
“Eager, huh?” he said with a smirk.
“You say that—” The belt hit the ground with a clink, and you winced “—as if you aren’t as well.”
“But I’m not the one with my hand down your pants, am I?”
You wanted to respond with some witty remark about not even wearing any pants, but you had already unzipped his flier and had your fingers curled around his cock. He cursed under his breath.
A winning smile stretched across your lips. “You were saying?”
You watched as his cock sprung past his flier, the length riddled with veins coming from the base and lining up to his warm pink tip which was already coated in a light shine. You would’ve made some teasing comment but given the soaked patch you had left over his groin, you decided otherwise.
As you stroked him up and down, Finnick wiped his hand over his mouth, muffling a groan into his palm. God, he was even worse than you. You loved it.
There was something so alluring about him being covered head-to-toe in black while having the most intimate part of himself exposed. Even more so when you were nearly naked in comparison. The scarce uncovered parts of his body had you feeling compelled to reach out and touch him. Your hand twisted around his cock with each pump and as it did, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to the hot skin of his neck.
“Fuck,” he breathed out.
You sucked, he sighed and tilted his head to the side, and then you sucked again. The knowledge that the next day what you two had done would be obvious from the colours of red and purple hadn’t occurred to you yet. You just wanted to taste him. Taste the salt and sweetness of his skin, the unique flavour that made Finnick Finnick. And you wanted to feel him. Badly.
Leaning back, you found that his eyes were already on yours. It was clear at that moment you shared the same thoughts—and they were both dark and lustful. The emotional atmosphere from before had long since disappeared.
“I need you, Finnick,” you said.
He said nothing. He did nothing, all except for wearing the faintest expression of amusement as he stared at you. Why must he always make things so difficult for you? And why did he always look so good doing it? You increased your grip around him, giving his length another pump in the hopes he would react. All he did was swallow some noise of gratification.
Your stomach was pulsing with a burning desire, leading all the way down to your cunt which contracted around nothing.
“Please,” you begged, your other hand gripping onto his jacket. “It hurts.”
His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he slowly scanned your body. If he continued looking at you that way, you thought you might actually ruin his pants with how wet you were. You were worried if he did nothing, if he simply stared at you like he was, you would come just from the heat of his gaze. And you didn’t want that. You wanted to come with him inside you.
He inhaled deeply and looked away as if your plea was something he genuinely had to ponder. The nerve he had. Then he looked back at you with the sexiest—or so you deemed at the moment—smile you had ever witnessed.
“Well…” he began, “you know how much I hate seeing you in pain.” Relief flooded through your entire body. He nodded his head as a gesture for you to sit up. “Come on, sweetheart.”
Without a second thought, you rose to your knees with the help of Finnick’s hands which were beneath your thighs. You were desperately fiddling with your underwear, unsure of how to go about taking it off. You tried to push it to the side, but the material wouldn’t stay; getting off of Finnick’s lap to take them off seemed unthinkable now, so having felt hopeless, you whimpered.
“Here,” Finnick said, and then he effortlessly ripped the fabric apart and pulled it from your body, exposing your heat to the tepid night air.
Shock came and left within milliseconds, your mind being too preoccupied with other matters to contemplate his sudden actions. Besides, going commando for the next few days didn’t seem too bad a price to pay for what was about to happen.
You guided his cock to your entrance, feeling the tip just barely push through your slick folds. The both of you watched as you sunk down on him, engulfing his entire length inside you and just as such, you both let your heads fall back and let out a quiet synchronised moan in response.
“Every time,” Finnick whispered ambiguously.
Though he didn’t need to elaborate for you to understand what he meant. Every time somehow managed to feel even better than the last. Every time you would forget how much you actually needed each other. Every time he was inside you, it felt like you were home.
“I know,” you breathed in response.
His hands were on your hips, acting as a guide as you rose, feeling his cock glide through your tight walls before you swallowed him whole once again. Your arms were wrapped loosely around his neck, chest brushing over his with each movement you made. It then came to your attention that the only piece of clothing you had left on was your bra.
The small amount of fabric hardly served you any purpose any more, considering the rest of your body was already on show for the whole world to see. Finnick seemed to have the same idea; he reached one hand up your back and used it to skilfully unhook your bra and slide it off your shoulders. Was it already mentioned that he did all of this one-handed?
Reality quickly set in when your bra fell to the ground—you were riding Finnick, completely naked, in the middle of a rebellion, while at heavy risk of being caught. Anyone else might have thought those string of words to be shameful, disturbing even, but for some odd reason, you no longer seemed to care. About any of it. All that mattered was that Finnick was inside you and he loved you as much as you loved him. Nothing else bore any significance.
You leaned back, so overwhelmed with pleasure that you had to close your eyes, hands still digging into his shoulders as your hips rolled and rose and sank, over and over. Finnick took this as an opportunity to bury his face between your breasts, leaving harsh kisses and moans that vibrated into your skin and hardened the peaks of your nipples.
Your fingers had tangled within the waves of his hair, unconsciously pushing him further into you because the things he could do with his mouth, things as simple as kissing, felt breathtaking. Literally. At this point, you were practically gulping air into your lungs because it felt like he was stealing your breath with each touch his lips made to your chest.
“Oh, god,” you whined, looking up to the sky above as if the heavens could somehow replenish you. Although, you weren’t sure they would be holding you in the highest regard in a moment like this.
Finnick was buried deep inside you as you stayed seated on his cock, unable to find the strength to push yourself upwards anymore. Now you were just rocking yourself indulgently back and forth on his lap, feeling his tip curve repeatedly into your walls and his pants rub harshly against your ass. The muscles in your stomach began tensing and you knew what was soon coming.
Your moans had started out breathless and soft, but as your movements continued, they began rising in pitch, in interval, and in volume. Finnick had no choice but to—heartbreakingly—leave your breasts and return to your mouth to stop the sounds from slipping out, however much they made his aching cock throb.
When it seemed like you had gotten yourself under control, he broke away from your lips to say, “Gotta stay quiet, baby, or else we’ll—” And then he quickly kissed you again to dampen another moan that he noticed was about to escape “—get caught.”
You gave him a sheepish look, biting your bottom lip to keep quiet. “I know, I’m sorry,” you rushed out in a single breath. “I can’t help it. Y’just so deep inside me. Feels so—”
He jerked his hips up, cock thrusting harshly and purposely up into you. Of course, you gasped loudly. That son of a bitch.
“Yeah?” he said, tilting his head to the side.
You sighed, shaking your head at him. “Asshole.”
He laughed and you could feel it rumbling in your own chest. His eyes were both sea-green and pitch black with darkness as he stared at you through the messy strands of hair strewn across his forehead. Believing he had no idea what he was doing to you all day was idiotic. Of course, he had known. Everything he ever did was in an attempt to rile you up and it always worked.
He knew he was attractive. He knew you found him painfully attractive. Fuck, why was he just so goddamn attractive?
“Hang on,” he said, tearing you from your thoughts.
“What?”
Your stomach lurched and suddenly your body was in the air. Technically, Finnick was still holding you in his arms, but still, you were in the air. Both his hands were curled beneath your thighs as he had stood up from the leather seat, hoisting you over six feet off the ground.
“Finnick!” you exclaimed with a half-whisper.
You were clinging onto his neck in fear of plummeting to the concrete ground. But, come on, this was Finnick. In what universe would he ever cause you any harm?
“Well, I’m not going to let you do all the work,” he said before kissing you sweetly, causing both your grasp on him to loosen and your body to practically melt into his. He pulled away once more, grinning like the devil he was. “If that’s alright with you?”
Your body bounced in his arms as he secured his hold on you and you couldn’t help but giggle.
“More than alright,” you said.
He pressed a light kiss to your nose and whispered, “Good,” and suddenly your back was up against something hard and cold and the brief light-hearted atmosphere had vanished.
Finnick’s body was pressed against yours, trapping you between himself and the concrete pillar which was behind you. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hardplace. His much wider and taller frame made you feel incredibly small in comparison, almost vulnerable in his strong arms, and you loved it. He had you completely concealed from anyone’s view, should they have regrettably walked by, which meant you would at least have a moment’s notice before your virtue was shredded to bits.
Now, back to being stuck between hard places. You hadn’t even noticed he had slipped out of you until he was holding himself in his hand, keeping you propped up against the wall with nothing but his other arm and his body strength, and was thrusting back inside you.
Blood was nearly being drawn from how hard you were biting your bottom lip because Finnick didn’t give you a chance to prepare yourself. His hands were digging into your ass and he was suddenly fucking you so hard, you were worried the concrete behind you would crumble under pressure. You were worried your willpower wasn’t strong enough to hold back the filthy moans threatening to tumble out.
How could you be quiet when all you wanted to do was show him how euphoric he was making you feel?
“How’s that, huh?” he asked roughly. “You like that, sweetheart?”
He was hitting just the right spot inside of you, angled perfectly and thrusting deeply. The skin of your back was scratching against the rough concrete surface with each of his thrusts and maybe it made you a little fucked up to admit it, but the pain of your skin being rubbed red raw while being fucked senseless was exhilarating.
Your head fell back against the wall, so hard the world was suddenly spinning on an axis. It was perfect. Finnick was perfect. Everything was perfect. Your eyes fluttered shut and everything of any other significance disappeared.
That is the only reason you allowed yourself to moan as loud as you did.
“Fuck!”
A large hand had been slapped over the entire lower half of your face and your own also jerked up to cover it in instant regret. Your eyes snapped wide open to see Finnick staring at you with the same visible alarm. You looked over his shoulder to scan for any sign of disturbance but after a few seconds, it became clear no one had heard you.
You looked back to Finnick, who, mind you, was still thrusting in and out of you though with a little less vigour. He was very clearly trying not to laugh. “I guess I’ll take that as a yes.”
You smiled against his hand which he took as a sign to lower it back to beneath your ass. First, you were grinning, then you were trying not to laugh and obviously failed, and then you were both trying to stifle your laughs together as if he wasn’t quite literally fucking you against a wall. The only thing that could break your spell of laughter was the need to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress another unwarranted moan.
Finnick pressed his body further against you, smiling wickedly as his cock pushed deeper inside you. You whimpered, fingernails creating red crescent moons on the back of his neck. He didn’t mind.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured.
You leaned forward to press a trembling kiss to his lips. “Love you too, Finn.”
“Mm,” he hummed, gratified.
Your legs, which were curled around his hips, tightened around him. If there was any way to bring him closer, you would have done it. If there was any way a person could crawl under someone else’s skin and live in their body, you would have been the first to do it. You would have been one with Finnick, wholly and devotedly. That was how much you needed him, how much you cherished him.
Whenever he was inside you, you truly were home.
You were clinging onto him in every way possible. His soft lips were back on yours, gluttonous with love and ardent lust. Your frantic hands were sliding over every part of his body they could reach. Your walls were contracting around his cock; even then, you were pulling him in further. It was all very messy, but it all felt very right.
The protective armour over his chest was rubbing against your bare breasts as your body bounced in his arms. The added stimulation was rendering you restless. That tight, blissful burn was starting to work its way up from your cunt and into your lower stomach, and you couldn’t stop moving. Your legs tightened and loosened around Finnick’s hips. Your chest expanded and inflated shallowly. Your fingers were practically clawing at Finnick’s clothes.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said breathlessly, and then your eyes were staring into his. A strand of hair fell across your face and he brought up a hand to tuck it back behind your ear. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “You can let go.”
Your knuckles were turning white from how hard they were grasping onto his clothed biceps. Like a beating heart, your lower body started pulsating—your stomach, between your legs, your thighs, all the way down to your toes. You were so close to spilling over the edge that everything suddenly became too overwhelming.
Tears sprung into your eyes, both of pleasure and sadness. Pleasure for the way he was making you feel as he thrust into you. Pleasure for the certainty that he loved you as you did him. But sadness for the uncertainty that this could be the last time you expressed your love for each other so intensely. Only the uncertainty wasn’t actually uncertainty.
Somewhere deep, deep inside you, there was a nagging feeling that this really was your last night together. Of course, you couldn’t rely on a nagging feeling as a tell for the future, but it was so strong. It felt so real.
You pulled him forward and crushed your lips to his, immediately falling into a smooth syrup-like rhythm with one another. It tasted sweet for a moment, a dessert consisting of whines from you and restrained groans from Finnick. But then a tear slipped from your eye and the sweetness turned salty.
Finnick pulled back to see the light shine coating your cheek.
He understood. He felt the same way.
“I love you so much,” he said, tenderly wiping away the tears on your skin.
Then he was kissing your shoulder, kissing across your collarbone, kissing up the fragile skin of your neck, the bone of your jaw, and finally back to your lips. Every kiss ravaged your entire being. His cock was curving right up into that sensitive cushiony spot inside you, sliding in and out of you and bringing a heightened sense of bliss each time. You could barely breathe.
It was too much. He was close too, you knew it. Beads of sweat were starting to collect in the strands of hair that had fallen across his forehead; his body leaned further into you, gradually losing strength as his own pleasure grew. He was staring at you the way he always did when he was inside you. Sinfully. Lovingly. And, God, he was breathing so heavily, his grunts and suppressed moans kept slipping through. It was heaven.
Another tear slipped from your eye; from which emotion, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter because you felt incredible. Your whole body was buzzing, the tears kept slipping out, and your reddened parted lips kept letting shallow breaths and choked gasps escape.
“Fuck, I love you,” Finnick said again in a raw, shaky voice, and you wished you could’ve responded but he had already pressed his lips to your forehead and suddenly you were coming.
Your eyes were screwed shut, mouth agape though releasing no noise. You could feel your walls squeeze around his length, covering his cock entirely in sweet white fluid as he hastily continued slamming up into you. His head had fallen to your shoulder, mouth connected with your neck to muffle the guttural sounds he made into your skin as he too filled you up with his own warmth.
You had gone limp in his arms and somehow, he still managed to keep you upright. Existence sort of vanished for a moment or two. Everything and everyone were gone except for you and Finnick. You were pressed so hard up against one another that you were sure any second you would melt into one being.
Eventually, you started to come back down, and your mind started to fill with thoughts once more. Finnick had stilled inside you, catching his breath as he rested against your shoulder. He was trembling, skin warm and damp with sweat against yours. You put your hands on his shoulders, signalling for him to put you down so he could at least regain some amount of strength.
But you hadn’t realised your own problem. As soon as he helped you slip down onto your feet, your weakened legs buckled and gave out beneath you. Before the hard concrete ground could welcome you into its unforgiving arms, Finnick dropped swiftly and caught you in his first. He fell to his knees, cradling your naked form over his lap, arms shaking ever-so-slightly.
A horrible blush overcame you. Your hair was a mess, your face was coated in a light sheen, and you were still naked.
“Sorry,” you whispered, sheepishly.
He shook his head, smiling down at you as though you had nothing to apologise for. His brows did that little scrunch you found so adorable. “You okay?”
You nodded. Had anyone been able to witness the way Finnick Odair looked when he was gazing down at the person he loved, you were certain they would also agree that they were more than just okay. He looked like an angel. It wouldn’t be surprising if a pair of wings suddenly sprung out from his back.
Overcome with love, you reached up to his face, fingers gliding across his jaw. His dimples somehow deepened even more than they already were. You had never seen someone so happy in your life, especially within the confines of a war.
“I wish I could find a more profound way to show my love for you,” you whispered.
His lips twitched and it was as though you could feel his own heart leaping with affection in his chest. His eyes flickered between your own and you knew he was going to say something either witty or something that would have made your knees buckle had they not already done so.
“You don’t need to,” he said. “Your existence is profound enough.”
A few seconds went by before you understood his words—he could feel the immense love you had for him just from your mere existence. You didn’t need to do anything for him to see it, to feel it, or hear it. All you had to do was be by his side, to share the air he breathed. All you had to do was look at him and he could feel the power of it.
You rose into a sitting position, feeling Finnick’s arms curl protectively around your torso. Tears threatened to fill your eyes, but you willed them away. Instead, you planted a gentle kiss on his lips. When you pulled away, a light breeze blew against you, blowing your hair over your shoulders and forcing you to lean further into Finnick’s warm embrace.
“How about we get your clothes back on, hm?” he spoke softly.
You smiled cheekily in response. “I don’t think you’ve ever asked me to put my clothes on before.”
His lips stretched into a lopsided grin, eyes looking down at you with a playful glint as he recalled the very similar conversation you had earlier.
“Well, there’s always a first time for everything, isn’t there?” he teased, fingers lightly tracing the skin of your waist.
Finnick had assisted you with gathering your scattered clothes, even helping you with putting them back on despite your insistence that you were quite capable of doing it yourself. Secretly, you enjoyed it—the silent affection, the lingering touches as he pulled each piece of clothing over your skin. Even doing the simplest things together felt incredibly intimate.
As your arms slipped through your jacket sleeves, Finnick moved in front of you, zipping it up the front and moving on to clipping the overlay buttons. He had this look of pure concentration; anyone would think he was solving the world's hardest puzzle, not buttoning up a jacket. It was adorable.
“Finnick?”
His concentration didn’t waver. “Mm?”
There was a knot growing in your stomach, and it wasn’t the pleasant kind. You had felt it moments before when you were still up against the pillar, and as time ticked away and a new day was closely approaching, it only grew more potent. Every time you looked into Finnick’s eyes, it felt more imminent. Like an impending doom.
The only plausible explanation behind the feeling was one you couldn’t speak aloud. You couldn’t even ponder it for a second, fearing the weight of it would crush the fragile makings of your heart and soul.
You scanned his face, taking in every single feature you had grown to worship. “If I go back home at dawn—” Now his attention had flickered to you “—will you come with me?”
His hands stilled, momentarily confused by your words. This mission was his chance to finally gain back some sense of power that had been taken from him by Snow. Within the next few days, he would be watching Katniss shoot an arrow through the president’s heart and see the life leave his eyes. A few days prior, that would have been more important than anything.
But as he looked into your eyes and saw the life twinkle in the gloss of your irises, the love they held, the future they revealed—a future with you and him together—he quickly realised nothing was more important. And the intense pleading your gaze revealed absolutely shattered him. Nothing could ever be more important than you.
Finnick tenderly cupped your face in his hands. “I’ll follow you anywhere, sweetheart. You know that.”
And it was like a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Like a dark ominous cloud looming overhead had finally dissipated and left you with an immeasurable amount of relief. You didn’t know what had caused the feeling or why it had been strong in Finnick’s presence, only that it felt right to be going home and have him come with you.
He leaned forward and kissed you gently, adoringly, and it took everything in you not to melt into his embrace. Your hands held onto his wrists, feeling his pulse thump with life beneath your fingertips. You loved him. You loved him so much that ‘love’ wasn’t even the right word for it anymore.
What he had said earlier came to mind­—how your existence was enough proof of your love for him. That seemed right.
“I exist for you, Finn,” you whispered.
The stars above were twinkling in his sea-green eyes, almost like little specs of bioluminescent plankton. You would happily drown in them if it were possible.
Finnick pressed his forehead against yours, arms snaking around your torso to hold you tightly against him. “I exist for you, too.”
The two of you returned home the next morning. And as the years went by, you continued to exist for one another back in District Four, free from judgement, from tyranny, from the Games.
You simply revelled in existence.
1K notes · View notes
toruro · 7 months
Text
— ✧ back to december
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a part of flower me with love ... an hhu unit x flowers collection !
genre: smut (18+ / mdni), fluff, angst (resolved!), best friends to strangers to lovers
description: it's been four months and twenty-two days since you've last talked to mingyu, however your mother still thinks you two are friends. you don't have the heart to tell her what really happened, and now you think it's time for you to move on. (un?)fortunately for you though, mingyu seems to have other plans.
inspired by back to december by taylor swift!
tags: miscommunication, unrequited love (not fr though), big dick mingyu, sex in a car >_<, riding, fingering, pet names (angel, pretty), creampie :3
w/c: 4.3k
a/n: happy birthday @gyuswhore!!! this fic is for em but if not em and ur reading it i hope u enjoy too. this is like 2/3 plot and 1/3 smut if anyone cares
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Normality is bliss.
That’s what you used to tell yourself. That’s what you used to believe.
Normality was bright mornings, crisp air, slow walking down the main street, inhaling the ambrosial scent of freshly roasted coffee beans, and slipping under the fairy lights that hang over the door. It was the warm sound of the overhead bell ringing, permeating laughter in the cafe from all customers, and daisies in a pot by the entrance.
Normality was Mingyu. His bright laugh as you approach the counter, sweet voice as he playfully asks you what drink you’d like, to which you roll your eyes and respond with, “You already know, don’t you?” It was the chuckle he would let out, the wink he flashed at you, murmuring the words, “It’s on the house” (because with Mingyu, it was always on the house), the thanks you give him before stepping back.
Normality was the latte he handed you, rough yet ginger fingers brushing over your palm as he warned you, “Careful, it’s hot,” and the giggle you let out when you stepped back and asked how his morning was going. It was Mingyu telling you nothing special happened yet. It was Mingyu suggesting that you two hang out at the field after he’s done with work. It was you grinning and agreeing in an instant, but only under the condition that he picks you up after your class.
Normality was bliss until four months and twenty-two days ago.
Now, normality hurts like a bitch.
Your mother glances at you from the corner of her vision as you rummage through the fridge. “What’re you looking for?”
“Some bread,” you murmur. “Was really craving a tomato sandwich … Damn, we’re seriously out of white bread?” you ask, giving up with a sigh as you close the door and face her.
She shrugs. “If it’s not in the fridge then I guess so. We’re low on produce too actually … I’d be surprised if you find tomatoes in there too,” she says. You purse your lip, shuffling through the different rows of cabinets to find something to throw together to take for lunch as your mother continues to speak. “You think you could stop by the grocery store after class today and pick up some stuff?”
“Yeah sure,” you reply casually.
“Ah, I wish Mingyu still stopped by with the groceries,” your mother says, and the sudden mention of his name has you halting your movements as you reach for a croissant, before you inhale deeply and go back to doing your own thing.
“Yeah,” you say quietly, clearing your throat after the word comes out horsley.
“You know why he stopped doing that?”
You try not to think about how you still haven’t told your mother that you and Mingyu don’t talk anymore.
“Uhh, I guess uni’s been getting to be a lot of work,” you tell her. “We’re both taking way harder classes so, uh, I guess he doesn’t have the time.”
“Hmm, yeah makes sense. You’re always swamped up in that room of yours ‘cause of work too … haven’t seen you two hang out in a while actually.”
You chew on your lip, staring down at your little bag for lunch and the croissant that sits inside. You wonder if you’ll even have the appetite to eat anything today after this conversation.
“We’re just busy. It’s harder to talk now.” It’s not entirely a lie. Grabbing the bag and picking up your backpack, you turn to face your mother who’s scrolling on her phone. “I’m gonna go now. My first class is starting soon.”
Now, normality is huffing as you get into your car, wishing you had a coffee next to you, but being too full of cowardice to head over to the cafe.
(“Go to a different cafe!” is what common sense would tell you, but common sense doesn’t listen to a love that has been betrayed. No other latte tastes the same, but you know that’s only because no other latte has been made by Mingyu.)
You pick up groceries on the way home.
Now, normality is staring at the daisies that are on display as you walk through the front doors of the store and reminiscing. It’s wondering what once was, and what could have been, if you decided to keep your silly feelings to yourself.
Normality is regretting. Regretting ever opening your mouth and telling Mingyu four months and twenty-two days ago that you loved him, and that you had loved him for not one, not two, not five, but ten damn years, because that was when you two met, and you always loved Kim Mingyu, but you should have known that not once did he love you back. Not how you would’ve wanted anyways.
Normality is wondering. Wondering if Mingyu would still be dropping off groceries if you hadn’t told him that you loved him, if he hadn’t told you he didn’t know what to tell you. Wondering if he thinks of you now. Wondering if he has any regrets. Wondering if he’s okay, but you lost the chance to know the answer to that question four months and twenty-two days ago. Wondering if—
Tomatoes. You need to buy the tomatoes, and the bread, some green beans, spinach, bell pepper, and more cheese, milk, maybe some butter, and—what was it that your mother told you to get? Oh, some strawberries.
You need to get all of these things, but there were no daisies on the list, so how did a bouquet full of them end up in your cart? You tell yourself you picked them up because they’re on sale, but you know the real reason is because you miss Mingyu.
Directing your attention back to the list you were sent on your phone, you hum lowly to yourself as you push your cart through the aisles. Checking items off your notes app, you exist with just yourself, your tomatoes, and fresh daisies as you try and finish these groceries before it gets too late into the evening.
Staring at your screen, you almost don’t notice that the dairy aisle isn’t empty until you bump into someone. “Sorry,” you mutter quickly, “I—” The words get caught in your throat when you see just exactly who you’ve hit.
Averting your gaze quickly, you wonder if Mingyu will respond, but you choose to scurry away quickly instead, because as cowardly as it sounds, you’re not sure if you’re ready to hear his voice again.
You’re not sure why your heart beats so fast when you escape into another aisle. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t read the look on his face for the brief second that your eyes met.
(Ten years of being best friends and you somehow don’t know what he’s thinking. Can four months and twenty-two days really change a person that much? Or did you never know Kim Mingyu in the first place?)
When you get home, your mother asks you where you got the daisies from. You tell her Mingyu gave them to you, because you want to convince her that you two are still best friends, and maybe—just maybe—you’re trying to convince yourself of it too.
You decide to buy a latte five days later. Mingyu never worked the evening shifts, so you’re confident you’ll get one of the other’s as the barista if you walk in past 6pm. Seokmin’s always nice. He doesn’t make the latte’s as sweet as you like—more specifically, as sweet as Mingyu made them—but he’s kind and always cheery.
When you walk in today, the pot by the door is empty. There are no more daisies, and you wonder if this is what has become of normality.
Your eyes glaze over the familiar setting, breathing in the sweet, rusty smell of coffee, and you smile watching all the cafe-goers laugh along with each other in their seats. All is going well, and you’re telling yourself that maybe this new normal isn’t too bad. That you’ve lived with it for four months and twenty-seven days, and so you can live with it longer and—
Your heart plummets when you see who's working the register today.
Maybe you really never knew Kim Mingyu, because you swore he hated the evening shifts, but here he is with a neatly tied apron, smiling while he talks to some girl across the counter. And his toothy grin is so bright and you aren’t sure if you’re seeing things correctly because everything sound has turned to a white rush in your ears and your vision blurs because you are once again awarded the painful reminder that you are in love with Kim Mingyu.
You thought your heart broke right in two back in December, but you hear it crack in this moment and realize that this was the final blow.
There are tears in your eyes, and you don’t know how long you stand there, until you hear your name. Seokmin is calling for you, and when you look up there’s no girl at the counter and it’s just Mingyu and Seokmin staring at you.
And you wonder briefly if you should be glad that Mingyu looks concerned but you don’t have time to dwell on the fact because Seokmin calls for you again—“Hey, are you okay? You—you’re crying”—and fuck, you’ve just humiliated yourself, so with fat tears hitting the dark wood ground you turn on your heel and rush out the door.
You keep thinking and wondering and regretting and you hate it all because regret has become normality, but regret is not a bliss.
You walk down the street, and you keep walking and walking and walking until you realize you forgot where you parked the car but none of that matters because all you’re thinking about is Mingyu’s smile, and how he doesn’t smile at you anymore. And so you walk faster and cry a bit harder until you’re so far down the street you don’t even know where you are anymore but it doesn’t matter because you don’t know who you’ve become.
And there’s footsteps thudding behind you—are you going to get kidnapped now? Fuck, you’ve already had the most horrendous sequence of events that could possibly happen to you in the span of five minutes, and now it’s going to get worse? If this goddamn kidnapper could just target you any other day, then maybe you wouldn’t whip around with tearful eyes, shouting into the dark: “Please don’t kidnap me! I’ll go with you any other day but—Mingyu!?”
His tall figure is hunched over, hands over his thighs as he heaves for breath, craning his neck to look up at you. “Kidnap you? Why in the world would I kidnap you?” he asks through harsh breaths. “Fuck, you walk so fast,” he groans, finally standing up as you furiously wipe your tears away in an attempt to actually make sense of this situation.
“I—” You want to reply, but then it hits you that this is the first time Mingyu has spoken to you in four months and twenty-seven days, and the thought is dizzying. “I don’t know,” you tell him, because you really don’t know. You don’t know a damn thing.
Mingyu looks at you with a look that you, once again, can’t seem to read. “Sorry, I—I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” you tell him, and anyone would be able to see through the lie but you’re hoping that Mingyu doesn’t pry any further. He doesn’t move, nor does he say anything. “You can, uh, go back now,” you add, rubbing the back of your neck as you stare at the ground. “I’m okay.”
“You—you were crying.”
Opening your mouth to protest, you realize you can’t refute him now. Not when it was so painfully obvious. You choose silence instead, hoping that your apprehension will be enough to drive him away, although it only seems to egg Mingyu on.
You don’t expect the words he blurts out after a few moments of thickness.
“You don’t know how much I wish I could go back to December and change things.”
“Please don’t lie to me Mingyu,” you tell him, and he can just hear from the way you say his name that you are desperately pleading with him. When you finally look up at him with glossy eyes, he wonders how in the world he let things get this far.
“I’m not lying, I—I wouldn’t lie about this.”
“What do you mean by this, Mingyu? What is this?” You cover your face and begin to sob, but not without gasping out words between heavy breaths. “Please don’t do this to me, not again.”
And when you uncover your face and look at him again, he’s got some bewildered look on his face, and you can’t tell what he’s going to say next.
“The girl,” Mingyu starts to say. “That’s my cousin. She was visiting me at work and—”
“It’s not about the girl, Mingyu!” And that’s a bit of a lie because some part of it is about the girl but it’s mainly about you and it’s mainly about Mingyu—mainly about the two of you.
He pinches the bridge of his nose and speaks. “Sorry, I—you’re right.”
Silence once more, before you calm your breaths and shake your head. “You should head back, Mingyu.”
“No I—wait, I just—I’m not lying. I regret everything I did in December.”
“Ming—”
“No, please listen to me. I regret not telling you how I actually felt, but I was so confused,” he tells you, repeating your name. “I was confused and fucking terrified because if things didn’t work out for some reason, then I would’ve lost my best friend but—but I was fucking stupid and lost you anyways. And you know, I wanted to reach out. I wanted to talk to you so bad but then like last week, when I saw you in the grocery store, and—daisies.”
“Daisies?” You furrow your brows.
“Daisies. You had a bouquet of them in your cart,” Mingyu tells you, taking a step forward. “And I know how much you love daisies. Your favorite flowers in the world. I saw them in your cart and thought to myself, fuck, I missed my chance, because I thought you had them for someone else and—”
“They weren’t,” you blurt out. “I-I even told my mom you got me them,” you add bashfully, “because she doesn’t know we stopped … yeah.”
There’s a silence that sits between you two, but you’re starting to realize that silence has become normality and you are no longer content with that.
“Mingyu, do you love me?”
He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “More than you love daisies.”
You laugh through your drying tears. You laugh so hard it makes you cry no longer because of pain but because of happiness, and you shake your head and throw your arms around him. “Kim Mingyu, that is a bold statement.”
“What can I say?” he grins. “I’m a bold man.”
“Where was that bold man for the past four months and twenty-seven days?” you snort.
Mingyu raises a brow. “You’ve been counting?” For a moment your expression falls but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry—I’ve been too.”
You two are quick to head back, Mingyu begging Seokmin to hold the first alone for the weekend before taking the wheel of your car and driving you both to your favorite field of daisies.
“Are we going to have sex for the first time in your car?” Mingyu asks with a chuckle, climbing into the backseat from one end while you pile in from the other.
Giggling, you meet his lips for a kiss as soon as the door shuts behind him, arms winding around his thick neck to bring him close. “The way you said that insinuates there we’ll be having more sex after this,” you tell him with a smile before diving back into another tongue twisting kiss.
“Hell yeah,” Mingyu groans against your tongue as you adjust to situate yourself over his lap, hips pressing dangerously close to his. “Gonna fuck you every day if I can. If you can handle that,” he adds.
You roll your eyes, pulling back to help yourself out of the cardigan and shirt you’re wearing. “What makes you think I can’t handle it?”
He only flashes you a toothy grin and quickly glances down at his groin area before winking at you. “You’ll see.”
“Kim Mingyu, you are a little shit,” you conclude despite the way your tummy churns at his insinuation, throwing off your shirt as Mingyu helps you out of a bra.
“I’m not little, that’s for sure … fuck, you’ve got the prettiest tits in the world,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you closer so he can plant his lips on the soft flesh. His mouth is warm, tongue tracing constellations over our skin before enclosing one of your nipples with his lips.
Slowly, his tongue traces circles around the stiffened nipple, teeth grazing over it ever so gently before biting down with slight force. “Ah!” you moan out, head thrown back as your hands travel up his neck and into his hair, fisting the thick, dark locks. “‘m sensitive, ‘gyu,” you tell him, shaky-breathed as he pulls his mouth off your tits with a slip popping sound.
“Sorry,” he says with a lazy smile. “Your tits are so nice,” Mingyu murmurs, bringing a hand up to squeeze over your other breast, tweaking the nipple in one hand as your hands begin to play with the hem of his tight fit shirt. “Fuck, can’t believe we didn’t fuck earlier. You know how much time we could’ve saved?” he says, pulling away just for a moment to peel the shirt off his body, revealing his firm, thick torso.
“I wonder whose fault that is?” You roll your eyes.
Mingyu frowns in response. “Don’t remind me … angel, take off your pants. Wanna finger you.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice, because in an instant your hands are at the waistband of your pants as heat rises to your cheeks upon hearing his words. Just the thought of Mingyu’s thick, longer fingers inside your aching cunt is enough for it to pulse around nothing as you throw your pants to the side and shove your panties to reveal your core.
“Atta girl,”  he murmurs under his breath as you readjust yourself over his lap so that he can have better access between your legs. Slowly, he brings one hand up to your exposed cunt, bringing his middle finger to circle around your gaping hole. “Shit, you’re so wet, angel … so wet for me.”
“Just for you ‘gyu, just for you” you gasp out when he sinks one finger in, rough pads rubbing against your warm, gummy walls.
Now Mingyu occasionally entertains the outrageous idea that he’s well composed, but he’d be a fool to deny that, even though he can turn you to mush in the palm of his hand, you also have him wrapped around your little finger.
You only have to beg him once or twice for a second finger before he’s giving in, wanting nothing more than to spoil you until you can’t even remember what you were asking for in the first place. And naturally, when you finally tell him that you’re ready for more—ready for his cock—he can’t help but grin and comply.
“You think you’re ready?” he asks, slipping his fingers out and shoving them into your mouth so you can taste yourself.
“You think I’m not?” you mumble around his fingers. You pout a little and Mingyu chuckles, leaning in to give you a wet and sloppy kiss before lifting his hips a little.
“You’ll see angel … help me take this all off,” he tells you, and you’re quick to grab at his waistband and yank his pants and boxers down at the same time.
“What are you talking ab—oh.” The words dry on your tongue when you see his cock spring out, from underneath his boxers, the thickness slapping against Mingyu’s abdomen.
It’s fat and long and veiny in all the right places, heavy balls resting at the base of it, the reddish-pink tip smeared all over with his shiny, translucent white precum.
“Yeah,” Mingyu says with yet another chuckle, watching your face as you gaze down at his cock in awe.
“I-is it gonna fit?” you ask incredulously, eyes glancing back and forth between the smirk on Mingyu’s lips and the long length of his cock. Mingyu just shrugs and smooths his hands over your hips, your stomach, and then your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss.
Your stomach flutters, cunt growing more and more needy and wet as the seconds tick by, and the way Mingyu’s tongue flicks against yours only heightens the feeling. When he pulls away, he settles his hands over your waist and directs you right over his cock, and something in you swells with pure arousal with the next words he says.
“Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit. You trust me?”
“Yeah,” you breath out, steadying your position as Mingyu uses one hand to guide his heavy length so that the tip points upwards and presses right against you.
“Fuck yeah,” he hisses, and you moan as you feel him sliding against your folds in a slippery, sticky mess. “old onto me, yeah angel? If you want to stop just—”
“Say the word,” you finish for him, placing your hands on Mingyu’s bare shoulders as an attempt to steady yourself, breath hitching as his length pushes into your entrance. “Oh shit, ‘gyu!" you cry out as you begin to sink down on him.
Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes—you can’t even fathom how, even after all his prep, Mingyu still feels like he’s nearly splitting you in half.
“Fuck, pretty—you’re so fucking tight,” Mingyu grunts, helping you nearly impale yourself on his cock. “Fucking fitting inside you so well,” he praises as he bottoms out inside of you, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder as you take deep breath.
Mingyu knows he’s big—knows it’s hard to fit him inside of you—and he’s feels so fucking lucky that he has you—so willing to take all that he’s giving—sucking him in and whining for more. He waits a few moments, only listening to the way your heavy breaths start to grow lighter, until you’re whimpering a soft, “‘gyu.”
He wastes no time in jerking his hips upward, shifting inside of you and battering the inside of your soft walls. You bite down on his shoulder as you push your hips down to meet his thrusts, choking back soft sobs as you feel his cock kiss your cervix with each movement.
“Holy shit,” Mingyu grunts as you begin to bounce on his lap, his length slipping out of you halfway before being plunged right back in with a sopping mess growing on his thighs.
You whine loudly at the overwhelming pleasure that takes over your body, lifting your head up so you could look at Mingyu with your mouth agape and hair stuck all over your burning face, a sheer layer of sweat starting to envelope both your bodies.
Soon, both of your movements begin to grow erratic and sloppy, hips jamming into each other so hard you’d be surprised if you even have the ability to walk tomorrow. You now know why Mingyu was concerned about fucking every day.
“You g’na cum soon pretty? Cum all over my cock? I can feel it angel, can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me.”
“Fuck, Mingyu,” you manage to gasp out, “Yeah, ’m gonna cum—feels so good, so full, so—fuck!”
Mingyu’s cock pulses inside of you and that’s when every detail seems to be heightened to a thousand—as your orgasm racks through you, you seem to feel every curve, every vein, dragging in and out of you to such detail that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you scream out his name.
Mingyu watches you fall apart, surrendering to bliss, and the way your hips are sporadically swiveling over his, your pussy’s wetness coating and creaming his cock has him going into a frenzy. Frantically, he begins to snap his hips faster up into you, your soft moans of overstimulation pushing him to his end faster than he can ever imagine. Watching the way he slides in and out of you is enough to have him cumming, shooting his hot, sticky load inside your warm cunt.
Riding out the last of his orgasm with soft rolls of his hips, Mingyu sighs contently at the feeling of you milking him dry, the both of you looking down at the wet, dirty mess you’ve made where the two of you connect, his cock still throbbing inside of you.
Both of you finally look up at the same time, grinning at each other, and you flop forward resting your head on his chest as he slowly combs his fingers through your hair, other hand running up and down your back.
“Why’d you start working the evening shifts?” you ask Mingyu after your breath has finally leveled. “I thought you hated those.”
“I did, but you stopped coming in the mornings, and I figured it was because of me. I hoped that maybe you would start coming in the evenings so I asked my boss to change my regular shifts just in case.”
“Oh wow, you really do love me.”
“I already told you I do! Even more than you love daisies, remember?”
3K notes · View notes
roosterforme · 5 months
Text
Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader
Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.
Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.
"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.
When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"
Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."
"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."
"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans. 
"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."
"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."
Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself. 
"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."
"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you. 
"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"
Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."
"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."
But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.
--------------------------
It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.
But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it. 
Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt. 
The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable. 
So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night. 
You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."
"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake. 
Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there. 
"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.
There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there. 
Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.
Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"
You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."
Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours. 
"Wouldn't know."
"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"
You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.
-----------------------------
"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."
"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."
When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.
"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there. 
"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."
"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything. 
"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?
"Tinder?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."
You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious. 
"I like that one," he told you softly. 
But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"
Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"
Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"
He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you. 
"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.
"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."
Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.
"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."
You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.
---------------------------
"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.
"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."
You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"
"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."
"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.
"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."
"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"
"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.
Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."
You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."
"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.
Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"
Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."
"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.
A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.
----------------------
"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."
Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."
"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"
With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him. 
Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely. 
That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside. 
Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.
Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole. 
"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake. 
"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh. 
"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it. 
"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."
"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"
"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."
"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you. 
Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.
------------------------
Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?
"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."
Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"
"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead. 
"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony." 
Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy." 
And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land. 
You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.
"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"
You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.
"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.
You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."
You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.
------------------------------
Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day. 
He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"
"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."
Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.
"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly. 
You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."
"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."
"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."
He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."
When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over. 
"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."
He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms. 
You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."
Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.
"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest. 
You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs. 
"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"
"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."
You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.
Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up. 
"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again. 
"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again. 
He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"
Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."
"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips. 
He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"
"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."
Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing. 
The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."
His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."
"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.
The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."
"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy. 
"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"
Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips. 
"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear. 
"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate. 
Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."
Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."
"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.
He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."
Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips. 
"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."
"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan. 
"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."
You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."
---------------------------
You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed. 
"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first. 
But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"
You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number." 
But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"
"I'll let you find out later.
---------------------------
Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!
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