#my brother deserves good things in life like all of us
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Added another chapter, here we goooo ~~
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Tim stepped out of the Batcave to grab himself a coffee. He was gone for 10 minutes.
So tell him why as soon as he closes the entrance, he's accosted with the sound of Jason and Damian bickering over the bat computer. The computer he’d been using for the past 5 hours to try and solve an ongoing trafficking ring.
“I told you my fucking number and I’m no liar,” Jason grumbles.
“Shut it Todd, I’m concentrating.”
Why does this always happen to Tim? What god did he piss off enough to regularly put him in the room when his brothers are arguing? What did he do to deserve such slander??
“You wouldn't have to concentrate if you just believed me-” Jason snaps, as Tim starts to make his way down the staircase, quietly stepping between shadows to avoid being seen.
“I refuse to believe that you’ve killed that many people since you were revived.”
“I’mma crime lord, brat. I’ve killed a lot of fucking people. Not to mention the Pit Rage.”
When Tim gets his first peak of the Bat Computer, he doesn't know why he bothered to be sneaky. At a first glance, Jason looks casually relaxed, his feet up on the desk, but his shoulders are tight and his attention is focused on whatever the hell Damian is doing.
Did Tim mention that he didn’t like where this is going? He would like it on record that he doesn't like this one bit.
“Pit Rage or not, that’s a preposterous number.”
“And that’s a good enough reason to hack into the Watchtower for all the information they have on the League of Assassins?”
Oh shit. Oh fuck .
“Father has encrypted folders stored in their databases holding detailed information pertaining to the League of Assassins." Damian sniffs, "If the information we seek is anywhere, it’ll be there.”
Nope, Tim is definitely not a fan of this development. He’d been meaning to see if he could get to that particular file and erase all mentions of Ra’s obsession with him. Tim just hadn’t gotten around to it.
“And you’re what? Going to hack past Oracle?”
“No,” Damian scoffs, “I know the password.”
Tim scrambles for his phone. It’s not his favorite device to hack from but dammit, needs must.
"How the hell did you manage that?"
"As if I'd tell you."
“Sneaky little shit.” Jason sounds begrudgingly impressed.
For a few moments, the cave is filled with the sound of aggressive typing, before Damian makes a small, pleased noise.
“I’m in.”
From this angle he can’t see what Damian typed, but Tim has been breaking into shit he shouldn’t for longer than he should have been able to. He’s just gotta get in before they can download something they shouldn’t.
“Great, where’s the LOA files? Do they even have the LOA files?”
“Of course they do, the watchtower is updated on every major server-”
Tim frantically pulls up backdoors and firewall scanners, hoping he can slip his way inside despite not being connected to a direct network.
“What’s that?”
“We have a task, Todd. Try to stay focused.”
“No, go back. I’ve never seen that before.”
Damian scoffs, but returns to a file labeled, 'The Detective - Project Failed’
See, this is why Tim can’t have nice things. Every time he lets his guard down for even a second, a meddling brother fucks it up for him. Truly a tragic life he leads.
“It’s nothing important. Clearly it wasn’t successful-”
“Open it.”
“This is not a leisurely perusement of information, Todd. We have a task to fulfill.”
“The file was created two years ago. That’s too recent to have been Bruce.”
Damian pauses, cursor hovering over the file. Tim hopes with everything he has that the kid will ignore Jason’s request.
But of course, because the universe hates him, Damian clicks it.
The Detective
Age: 17
Height: 5’6”
Weight: 131 lbs
"I fucking told you it wasn't Batman. That's Robin levels of scrawny."
"I applaud your clearly superior intellect, Todd." Damian drawls.
"Who the hell taught you sarcasm?"
“I didn’t need to be taught, unlike some.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don't see how this is relevant.”
ABILITIES:
Trained by Batman, Nightwing, Batgirl, Lady Shiva
Martial arts disciplines including but not limited to:
Kung Fu, Aikido, Jeet Kune Do, Escrima, Krav Maga, Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Wing Chun, Hapkido, Karate, Savate, Kendo, Ninjitsu, Tai Chi, Leopard Kung Fu and Biangan.
Prefered Weapon
Bow staff
Highly skilled combatant
Master Detective, Tactician, and Strategist
Gifted Intellect
Excels in computer science and inventions
Firm grasp of assorted scientific techniques including biology, engineering genetics, forensic, criminology, acrobatics, stealth, disguise, and escapology.
"So I know I made a joke about this being a Robin, but…" Jason trails off.
"These descriptions are too specific." Damien agrees.
AFFILIATIONS:
Batman and his associates
Leader of Young Justice
Leader of Teen Titans
Justice League associates
League of Assassins associates
"Which fucking Robin worked with Ra's of all people?"
"I am the heir of-"
"Tell me when exactly you lead Young Justice."
“Tch.” Damain scoffs.
PERSONAL CONNECTIONS:
Janet Drake (Mother): Dead
Jack Drake (Father): Dead
Eddie Drake (Uncle): Fake Identity
"Oh fuck ." Jason breathes.
ALIAS:
Timothy (Tim) Jackson Drake-Wayne
Robin - Boy Wonder
Red Robin
The Detective
Alvin Draper
"What kind of alias is Alvin ? What the fuck?"
History:
Defeated King Snake (assisted)
Defeated Clusmaster (alone)
Escaped Bane and Killer Croc (alone)
Defeated Firefly (alone)
'Zero Hour'
Defeated KGBeast (alone)
Kidnapped by Zeus - (escaped alone)
First contact with LOA - apocalypse virus
Defeated Cluemasrer (alone)
Lead Young Justice
'No Man's Land'
Defeated Mr. Freeze and Ratcatcher (alone)
Defeated Darkseid (assisted)
'Titans Tomorrow'
Defended Bludhaven from OMAC's (assisted)
Defeated Secret Society of Super Villains (assisted)
Reassembled Teen Titans
Defeated Obeah Man (alone)
LOA affiliation - Objective: [REDACTED]
“No fucking way.” Jason breathes, and judging by Damain’s silence, he shares Jason’s sentiment.
Tim’s frantic typing is yielding no results. Fuck .
“I didn’t think the kid had it in him.”
“I was not aware that Drake was so… versatile in his skills.”
“That’s a fancy fucking way of saying he’s got a rap sheet longer than Santa’s naughty list.”
“He didn’t strike me as the type to work with Grandfather.”
“Yeah, no shit. When did that even happen?”
“By the dates, it would have been during Father’s disappearance into the time stream.”
“ Oh my fucking god .”
Classification: Potential Heir
Mission Success Rate: 98%
Active Member: N/A
Time of Service: 1y 2m 15d
Kill Count: 8,528
“That number can’t possibly be right.”
“Holy fuck, that’s a higher kill count than me .”
“I refuse to believe this. We need more evidence.” Damian states, scrolling down to the detailed notes.
“He blew up a League base?”
“Not just one. He blew up 7.”
“I don’t understand how he would have had the information-”
Tim’s phone vibrates as finally gains access to the Watchtower. It’s too late to have kept his brothers from seeing what they did, but that doesn’t mean he can’t bury his file.
“It says he that he was favored by Ra’s and… that bastard wanted him to be the next Demon’s Head? What the hell did Timmy do ?”
“I don’t understand.”
The data starts disappearing, and Tim clears his throat. His brothers turn around, staring wide-eyed at Tim’s blank face.
His heart is in his throat and his hands are shaking, but he forces a smirk.
“No one will ever believe you.”
Tim turns and sprints for the door.
Without the copies stored away in the watchtower database, his brothers will be hard-pressed to come up with proof about his crimes and really, he’s heard far too many comments about him being one of the more morally sound people in the family, so it’s not likely that his brothers will be taken seriously, but he's not sticking around long enough to get caught.
Tim’s escape lasts about five minutes.
It’s an epic five minutes, there’s a lot of sick flips and narrow misses involved, but by the end of it, the entire family is on the chase.
Which, Tim thinks wryly, is just fucking perfect as he wheezes under the weight of 200 pounds of sheer muscle.
“You have some fucking explaining to do, Timbo.” The jerk that’s currently crushing all of the air out of Tim’s lungs says, but all Tim can do is wheeze.
The weight lifts and oh . Fuck . Yeah, no wonder Tim was on the verge of breaking a rib, Jason was the one who tackled him.
Rude. Tim weighs like. A third of him. The man could at least pretend to use some constraint.
“Tell me why,” Jason starts in a dangerously low tone, “You have the highest kill count in this family.”
Tim tilts his head, the picture of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“ Bull. Shit . Damian and I saw the fucking file. Deleting it doesn't change the facts.”
Tim's expression doesn't falter. He’s been rubbing elbows with high society since before he could walk. He’s well practiced in a poker face. “What file?”
Jason lunges for him.
A short scuffle later finds both Tim and Jason separated, Bruce with an arm across Jason’s chest and Dick bodily hauling Tim off the ground.
"What's going on?"
Ah shit, that's Bruce's Batman voice.
"Tim has a kill count higher than me." Jason immediately spits, the snitch.
"He worked with Grandfather."
"He blew up 7 league bases."
Every gaze in the room lands on Tim, and he sighs, admitting defeat and slumping in the hold Dick has him in. Damn the man and his octopus arms.
It was a good run. But the gig is up.
"I was in a… bad headspace." He shrugs ruefully, "Black Canary once told me that shared misery is halved misery.”
“Your ‘bad headspace’ lead to blowing up 7 League bases ?”
Tim shrugs. “In my defense, Ra’s is an asshole who has my spleen in a jar. I think he deserves it.”
The arms tighten around Tim, “He has what -”
”Your spleen ?”
“That does sound indicative of Grandfather’s behavior.”
“What the actual fuck, replacement.”
"You have some serious explaining to do." Bruce says, tone authoritative with no room for argument.
Tim sighs. He just wanted coffee.
An opinion. Jason was the only batkid who did not come with a pre-installed Kill option, that was downloaded, after death, while he was with the League. Dick, Tim and Damian, tho, they came with it, and Bruce had to learn to manually turn it off.
99% success rate with Dick and Damian.
76% success rate with Tim who has not killed anybody, but has contemplated it way too many times for Bruce to be comfortable with.
Edit: for all the people who keep saying "But Tim blew up the League bases with so many people," listen, if Bruce doesn't know, it didn't happen. Don't go snitching on my boy like that.
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cece693 · 8 hours ago
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The Better Brother (Damon Salvatore x M! Reader)
A small pet peeve of mine regarding Damon Salvatore fics is how people sometimes gloss over the wave of self loathing this man possesses. Since childhood he's had to bear constant comparisons with Stefan—how he wasn't enough, not as kind, etc.—so in my mind, if he does find someone he would absolutely push them away. That gave rise to this fic!
Summary: Damon finally found the one, however, thoughts of self-hatred and the constant comparison to his 'better' brother had him doubting if he even was deserving of such future.
tags: sad, in my feelings, break up, Damon thinking he's underserving, self hatred
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Damon leaned against the bar of the Mystic Grill, the amber liquid in his glass catching the dim light. He swirled the bourbon absently, his mind not on the drink but on the man standing at the dartboard, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he teased Stefan for his missed throw.
M/N had come into Damon’s life like a hurricane—wild, passionate, and with a kindness that made him feel human for the first time in decades. He wasn’t supposed to fall this hard. But now that he had, every insecurity Damon carried weighed heavier on him.
He drained the glass and set it down with a little too much force, drawing a glance from M/N. Damon met his eyes and forced a smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his own. M/N tilted his head, his expression softening with concern, and made his way back over. “What’s got you brooding over here?” he teased, bumping Damon’s shoulder as he slid onto the stool beside him.
Damon shrugged, reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. “Just thinking about how life is unfairly cruel to us handsome, brooding types.”
M/N didn’t laugh. He didn’t fall for Damon’s deflections anymore.
“You’ve been distant all week,” he noted, his voice quieter now. “What’s really going on?”
Damon’s grip on the glass tightened. He hated how easily M/N saw through him, hated how good he was for him. And most of all, he hated himself for ruining what they had before it could even bloom. But Damon knew how this story ended. It was always the same. Stefan was the hero, the savior, the one who got the happy ending. Damon was the shadow lurking behind, destined to lose.
“You should go back to your darts game,” Damon said, his voice cold now, deliberately so. “I’m fine.”
M/N stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “I know you don’t believe this, but you don’t have to push me away every time you get scared, Damon.”
Scared.
The word stung because it was true.
Later that night, Damon found himself alone in the Salvatore boarding house. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the room, but its warmth didn’t reach him. He sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, a photograph clutched in his hand.
In the photo, they were both smiling—genuine, unguarded. Damon hardly recognized himself in that moment, caught off guard by M/N’s infectious energy. The picture had been taken at the Mystic Falls Winter Festival, a day Damon had reluctantly agreed to attend. M/N had dragged him to the Ferris wheel, teasing him about being afraid of heights.
Damon hadn’t been afraid—not of the heights, at least. But the way M/N had looked at him at the top, with so much trust and warmth, had sent a different kind of fear coursing through him. For a brief moment, suspended in the sky with M/N’s laughter ringing in his ears, it felt like the world wasn’t so bleak.
He clenched his jaw and stared at the photograph for a long time, his fingers trembling slightly. “You don’t deserve this,” he muttered to himself. “You don’t deserve him.”
With a sharp breath, he shoved the picture into the drawer of the side table and slammed it shut. This was the right thing to do. Even if it hurt. Even if it tore him apart.
The next day, Stefan found Damon in the parlor. The sunlight streaming through the windows only emphasized how wrecked the oldest Salvatore looked. He was slouched in the armchair, a near-empty bottle of bourbon in front of him, his eyes distant and unfocused, as if he had been staring into nothingness for hours.
“What did you do?” Stefan’s voice cut through the oppressive silence of the room, sharp and demanding.
Damon let out a low chuckle, the sound bitter and hollow. “Relax, Saint Stefan,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I did you a favor.”
Stefan’s brows furrowed as he stepped closer, his tone tightening with frustration. “What the hell does that mean?”
Damon finally lifted his gaze, his trademark smirk flickering onto his face. “He’s all yours now,” he said, the words carrying a mix of resignation and self-loathing.
He didn’t need to ask to know what Damon meant. “You broke up with him,” Stefan said, his tone flat, more a statement than a question.
Damon shrugged, his nonchalance forced and brittle. “Better for everyone that way,” he muttered, grabbing the bottle and taking another swig.
Stefan wasn’t having it. He crossed the room in two strides and snatched the bottle from Damon’s hand, setting it firmly on the table out of reach. “Better for everyone or better for you?” he snapped, his voice cutting through Damon’s feigned indifference.
Damon’s smirk flickered. He slouched further into the chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “Don’t get all noble on me, brother. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A clean slate? No more complications? No more me standing in the way?”
Stefan stared at him, incredulous. “You really think I wanted this? That I wanted you to destroy the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”
“Spare me the lecture, Stefan,” Damon said, his tone sharp, though it lacked its usual bite. “He’ll be fine. Hell, he’ll probably thank me someday.”
Stefan shook his head, his frustration mounting. “You don’t get it, do you? M/N doesn’t want me. He never has. He chose you, Damon. And instead of fighting for him, you pushed him away because you’re too much of a coward to believe you deserve him.”
Damon’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists on the armrests of the chair. “Coward? Is that what you think I am?”
“Yes,” Stefan shot back without hesitation. “You’re so scared of being happy, of someone actually loving you for who you are, that you’d rather sabotage it before they can leave you. You think that’s noble? It’s not. It’s pathetic.”
Damon stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he loomed over Stefan. “Don’t you dare lecture me about love, Stefan. You’ve been handed every happy ending on a silver platter while I’ve had to fight for scraps.”
“And this time, you didn’t even fight,” Stefan countered, his voice soft but firm. “You just gave up. And you hurt him in the process.”
Damon’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had come. He turned away, staring into the dying embers of the fireplace. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “He deserves better. Better than me.”
“Maybe that’s not your choice to make, Damon. Maybe he already decided that you’re what he wants. And maybe…just maybe, you should let yourself believe it.”
Damon didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The words sat heavy in his chest, pressing against the fragile walls he’d built around his heart. He clenched his jaw, his eyes burning as he stared into the fire, willing the tears to stay where they were. Stefan sighed, his frustration softening into something closer to pity. “You’re going to regret this,” he said quietly. “And when you do, I just hope it’s not too late.”
He turned and left the room, leaving Damon alone once again.
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire. Damon sank back into his chair, staring at the empty spot on the table where the bourbon bottle had been.
Deep down, he knew Stefan was right.
But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.
And that was the curse of being Damon Salvatore.
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hueseok · 2 months ago
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it was always you.
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for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.
so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.
or at least, that’s what you think.
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 13.2k
rating: 18+
content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts
warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)
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MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken
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opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗
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“Any questions?”
A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”
You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.
You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”
More than half of the class raises their hands.
“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”
A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.
“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”
“I love you, Ms. ____!”
“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.
“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”
The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.
There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.
Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.
“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.
“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”
He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Is that how you greet an old friend?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”
You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.
“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”
“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”
“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”
“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”
“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”
“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”
“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”
“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”
He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”
“You didn’t?”
He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.
“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.
Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.
It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.
It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.
At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.
“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”
“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”
“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”
Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.
“He meant well, ____.”
You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.
“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.
He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”
You wince.
“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”
“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”
“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”
“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”
“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”
“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”
“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”
“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.
“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”
“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.
“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.
He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”
“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”
“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”
“An apology?”
“For being the last person to know about your condition.”
“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”
“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”
Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.
“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”
“I can make space for you.”
Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?
You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”
“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”
“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”
“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.
“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”
“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”
Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.
“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.
“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”
“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Fine.” You deadpan.
This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”
“Okay.”
****
When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.
He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.
And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 
He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.
Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.
“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.
Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”
“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.
“You’ll do it then?”
He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”
“Even as crazy as marrying her?”
“Sure.”
Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”
“I don’t like her.” 
“You’re in love with her.”
“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”
Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”
He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”
“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”
“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”
“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”
“That can work.”
“What?” Jungkook laughed.
Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”
He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”
“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”
“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.
Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”
Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.
“Noted.”
****
It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.
You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 
“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.
You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.
“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.
Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”
He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.
“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”
The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”
“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”
“Precisely.”
“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”
“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”
 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”
“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”
“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”
“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”
You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”
“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.
He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”
“Hell no.”
“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.
“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”
He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”
“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”
The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.
You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.
When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.
After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.
“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.
He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.
“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 
“That’s no need, Kook.”
“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”
So, you allow him.
It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.
“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”
“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”
Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”
“Agreed.”
You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”
Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.
“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.
“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”
“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”
“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”
“It’s not as bad as you think.”
“That’s not convincing at all.”
“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”
You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.
You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”
There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”
“I can’t promise that either.”
“You have to.”
“Why do I have to?”
“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”
You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”
“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand what?”
“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”
“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”
“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”
“You should be.” You grumble.
Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.
“What?” You hiss.
He swallows hard.
“I want you to marry me, ____.”
You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.
****
Jungkook was your first kiss.
It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 
He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.
“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”
You blushed.
Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.
5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.
“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”
You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”
“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”
Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”
“So, it’s not true?”
“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.
It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”
You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”
“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.
He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.
“Okay,” you told him.
“Huh?”
“You can kiss me.”
“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”
You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”
“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”
“It is?” Hope sparked within you.
“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”
You cackled. “Deal.”
56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 
****
You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.
“What’s up?”
“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.
A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”
The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.
“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now?”
“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”
“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”
“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”
“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”
“Why not?”
“It just won’t!”
“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”
You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”
“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”
“It’s a sham marriage!”
“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”
“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”
Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”
“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”
“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”
“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”
Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”
“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”
“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”
“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”
“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”
There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.
“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.
“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”
“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”
“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.
You hang up and glance at the door.
You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.
He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.
As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 
Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.
Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack
You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.
You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw
Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first
You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you
Jungkook: oof that’s harsh
You: sorry not sorry?
He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.
However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.
Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind
You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.
You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey
Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣
****
It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.
He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.
Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.
“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.
“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.
You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”
“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”
“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”
“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”
“Ah.” You nod in understanding.
You two continue walking forward.
This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.
“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.
You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”
“Busy day?”
“Yep.”
“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”
He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”
“Why not?”
“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”
“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”
“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”
“The assurance you’re taken care of.”
“That’s cheesy.”
You share a laugh and he grins.
“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”
He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.
Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.
“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”
You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.
“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.
“Glucometer.”
He halts. “What does that look like?”
“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.
He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.
“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.
You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.
“Let me do it,” he says.
You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.
Another sigh. “Better.”
“Does this happen a lot?”
You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”
“____—”
“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”
Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”
“Thank you.”
He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”
Before you can protest, he closes the door.
****
Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.
In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.
“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.
“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”
“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”
“It’s not.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.
Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?
“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.
“Four months, I think.”
“Four months? And you already brought him home?”
You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”
“You must really like him then.”
“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”
“Does he treat you well?”
You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”
“What’s with it?”
“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”
Fuck, thank God, he thought.
“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.
“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”
“But I’m not your brother.”
“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”
“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”
“Oh, so you don’t?”
He pressed his lips into a tight line.
“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”
“Instead you implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You kinda did.”
He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”
“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.
He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.
“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”
“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.
“He might not like it. You’ll see.”
That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.
You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.
****
“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.
Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.
“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.
“Jungkook—”
“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.
You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”
“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 
“That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”
“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”
“I’m not willing to take the risk.”
“I’m not willing to see you die.”
You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”
“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”
“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”
“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”
“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”
“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”
“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”
“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”
“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”
His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”
“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”
Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”
“That won’t make me feel better.”
“Then what will?”
You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.
Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.
Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.
You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”
He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”
“For one, I grew up.”
“Ouch.”
You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”
That piques his interest. “Anything.”
“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”
“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”
You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.
“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.
It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.
You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”
His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!
He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.
“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”
That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.
“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.
“What?”
“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”
Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.
“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.
Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.
“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”
“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”
And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.
It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.
However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.
“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.
You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.
“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.
It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.
“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.
You grin. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”
You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.
“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”
You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.
He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”
“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.
He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”
You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.
It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.
Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.
“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.
You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“I’m going to take you up on that.”
“Please do.”
After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.
“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.
You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”
A boyish grin erupts on his features.
Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.
“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.
You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”
He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”
“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”
“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”
****
“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.
The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.
“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”
“I don’t care.”
You laugh. 
He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.
Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.
“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”
You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.
“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.
“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”
“Of course.” You kiss him too.
His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.
“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.
The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.
Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.
Jungkook unwillingly places you down.
“I think I need to go,” you say.
He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“Call you tomorrow?”
“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 
He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”
“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.
“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.
“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”
“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”
“You,” he answers without missing a beat.
You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”
“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”
You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”
Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.
You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.
“What?” you ask.
“Please never do that in front of me again.”
His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”
“Want what?”
“Me and Jungkook to be together.”
“When on earth did I say that?”
“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”
A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”
“We’re not—”
“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”
“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”
“Wait, so the two of you have?”
Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”
He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”
You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.
You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”
You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.
A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”
You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”
When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”
You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.
You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.
“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.
You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.
Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.
You: look how cute we look 🥹
You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.
If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.
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gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡
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loves0phelia · 14 days ago
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Hi! I don’t know if you’ve watched part 2 of outer banks yet, and if you didn’t this request is a spoiler!!
Can you do JJ Maybank’s sister seeing him die and Rafe is just watching her break down and he’s comforting her while she cries in his arms? I’m sobbing over JJ right now 😭
Thank you!
Gone
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Summery: outer banks season 4 episode 10/the anon
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: SPOILERS, death, grammar mistakes.
A/N: i also sobbed, i cant believe it and thank you for requesting love youuu.
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The sandstorm hit suddenly. The air was thick, nearly solid with dust. You stumbled forward as the wind blew strongly, You screamed, begging JJ to come down before something terrible would happen but even if you pulled the scarf tighter across your nose and mouth every breath felt like swallowing shards of glass making it hard to speak. 
Everything was clouded and your goggles were smeared with sand dust. It was impossible to see your brother who was up high on that statue trying to find the blue crown you, the pogues and Rafe have been risking your lives for.
“Come down JJ!” You screamed as loud as you could, hoping he could hear you over the screaming wind. 
A surge of panic rose in you, he wasn't listening, only going higher and higher to reach the top.
“Hurry please!” You screamed again as the sandstorm was getting worse and worse. Squinting your eyes you could see JJ finally descending the statue after a while, carefully holding on to the rock.
“JJ, holy shit are you okay?” You rushed forward to him as he stumbled around frantically.
“I'm good! I'm better actually, I'm great. Look!” he yelled over the storm and held up the blue crown, it felt like a dream having it in front of you.
“No way, you found it” You both looked down at the dusty historical crown in silence for a second, sinking in it the victory that was so rare when it came to you and your twin.
“We got it!” He cheered, pumping his fist, jumping into place from all the adrenaline. The victory cheers didn't last long though, the next thing you knew shots were fired at you from the group who wanted to steal what was rightfully yours.
“Run, run, run” JJ shouted behind you as you ran through the sand blindly and desperate to find shelter.
The sandstorm roared with life around you, Yours and JJ's footsteps vanished almost as quickly as you made them, erased by the wind.
You coughed, your lungs stinging as you struggled to run down the stairs you had found leading inside the monument. 
But suddenly, a shadow appeared out of the storm. A strong hand gripped your forearms and in a sudden movement, your back was pressed on your “father's” chest, an arm around your neck holding on tightly, cutting your airflow and a sharp blade pressed into the side of your face.
“JJ!” you called out, trying to get out of his grasp.
“Let her go!” JJ shouted, his voice trembling with anger. He lunged towards you trying to rip you away from him but he only pressed the blade harder making you cry out. But Groff only shook his head.
You cried, struggling, and your heart pounding as Groff’s grip tightened. You fought against him, but his hold was unbreakable.
“You’re just like your mother,” Groff hissed, his gaze cold and unmoved. “Always standing in my way. Well, this time, you’re not going to stop me. Give me what I want”
“Let her go” He begged.
“If you had listened, we wouldn't be here JJ, you could have had everything. WE could have had the life we deserved as a family. All three of us. But now you get nothing. Nothing at all” Chandler pants like a maniac.
“I already have everything,” JJ says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have everything I ever wanted. You want the crown? Sure, take it. I don't want it. Just let my sister go.”
“Give it to me, hold it out” He reached toward JJ for the precious object, his grip on you not loosening.
In a swift moment, an exchange was made. Groff grasped the crown, and JJ pulled you out of his arms.
“I got you” JJ breathed out with relief, like a weight was removed from his shoulders. He hugged you protectively. Holding your head against his shoulder like a shield. But then again, the victory was cut short.
“JJ, y/n” you were interrupted by the voice of your father, his call made both of you separate and turn to face him, JJ’s body still shielding you from further harm.
“It's a shame…you and I” You furrowed your brows and a gasp came out of your mouth when the sound of flesh being pierced rang out. 
“You should have given me the rope” Time was moving at a slow pace as the scene unfolded. Groff twisted the knife in JJ's stomach before pulling it out rapidly and running out into the desert.
"JJ!" You screamed, your voice raw with terror. You saw JJ stumble back, his hands flying to his side. Dark red blood was spreading through his shirt and across his fingers, and the sight of it hit you like a punch to the gut.
The world narrowed to the scene in front of you as you watched JJ fall, his face contorted in pain. 
“No, no, no” you cried, desperation thick in your voice.
You rushed to JJ’s side, catching him just as he stumbled. He looked up at you, his face pale and stained with tears.
“It's okay JJ, it's okay” You pressed into his wound, shaking terribly, sobbing when he let out a pained groan.
“No, please” you murmured, pressing your hand over the wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. “You’re going to be okay. Just stay with me, okay? Stay with me.”
“Hey, hey,” He whispered, his voice breaking. “Take care of the others for me, okay?”
“No! No” Your breaths shakes, your chest tight with sadness.
“I love you, y/n. You're the best sister anyone could ever have.” His gaze was beginning to drift, his eyes unfocused, and the strength in his grip was fading. Panic clawed at you.
“I love you, please don't go” you begged, but it was pointless he was already gone.
“No! No, no. Please! JJ, please” you shaked his shoulder weakly.
“John B!” You screamed, your chest burning from the lack of oxygen your lungs were getting.
“Pope! Rafe!” Your hands gripped your brother refusing to let go.
“Please JJ!” Your heart shattered completely, a part of you gone forever. Your brother, your twin, your best friend, the other half of your soul, gone. 
“Please” You pressed your forehead against him, your tears falling over the blood-soaked shirt.
The pogues came running towards you, sinking to their knees, calling out to him, crying, sobbing, mourning.
Everything in you gave out as you held onto him, you couldn't even fight when hands grabbed onto your shoulder to bring you away from your brother's corpse.
Your body fell limp into Rafe's lap. His hands held your body up as if he was your lifeline. 
“It's gonna be okay” He whispered against your forehead but you barely registered any of it, only sobbing, and screaming in pain against him. 
The Pogues stood in a tight circle, all eyes fixed on JJ as if somehow their stares alone could bring him back. But no one spoke, and in the heavy silence, the truth crashed over them, settling deep in their bones. JJ was gone.
Kiara’s shoulders shook, a small, trembling motion that quickly overtook her entire body. She fell to her knees, hands pressed to her mouth as she fought to hold back the sobs. 
Pope was beside her, his eyes frantically looking over the scene, he didn't want to believe any of it, as if it was a cruel joke.
John B stood, rigid.  His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, and his jaw was set, teeth gritted as he tried to hold it all in, to keep the pain from breaking him apart. 
Rafe's arms wrapped around you gently, his hand resting on the back of your head as he let you fall into his chest. You buried your face in his shoulder, the grief and sorrow pouring out in waves as he held you.
He didn’t speak of the rivalry, the old wounds and the bitterness between your families; none of that mattered now. At this moment, all he saw was your pain, and he was there, his own heart breaking a little as he watched you crumble.
When the sobs finally subsided, leaving you weak and exhausted, Rafe pulled back slightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with something you’d never seen in him before—softness, understanding. 
“It's okay,” he murmured, his voice a promise, his hand gentle as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “I’ve got you.”
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You sat on the sand as a fire crackled in front of you, you had just buried him, the silence was thick nobody wanted to believe the truth. 
Your head pounded, even when you were softly laying on Rafe's legs using them as pillows. His calloused fingers gently rubbed your hair and you tried to concentrate on the movement in an attempt to forget about the previous moment but you failed.
“Groff said he was going to Lisbon” Rafe whispered above you, making your eyes open and looking up at him. His eyes met yours and he continued.
“If he was my friend or my brother… I would go after the guy that just killed him” The mention made your heart burn but he had a point.
“He's not wrong” Kie whispered, agreeing with your inner thoughts. You snuggled against Rafe's legs one last time before sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder. 
“JJ would already be on his way to kill him if it was one of us,” you said and everyone's eyes snapped towards you, those were the first words you had spoken since it happened. 
“He'd get even,” John B added.
“Let's get revenge,” you said, your voice more confident than it was before, you felt a hand grasp onto yours and slowly you turned your head to face Rafe. He nodded and tightened his grip in a comforting way, never letting go.
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Send request please xx
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mad-hunts · 2 months ago
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as far as jack could tell, jervis was really out of it; and it made him wonder it was due to something that had happened while he was out with his father, or when they'd gotten here. perhaps both. jack gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting to jervis's hands, which were flexing like he was struggling with something. an eyebrow rose as jack contemplated asking whether he needed some pain medication.
since he didn't receive an answer to his question yet, jack figured he might as well introduce himself. ❝ uhh, well, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't feeling up to it. my sister told me that you fainted in front of her out there — so, i understand if you're still feeling sick. my name is jack, ❞ he scratched at the back of his neck as he continued to observe jervis. whenever the man tried to get up, jack approached him and was about to caution jervis that maybe he shouldn't by lightly touching his shoulder.
but he remembered matilda telling him something about the other really not liking to be touched, so he merely was going to verbally tell him. up until jervis laid back down himself, anyhow. jack couldn't hold himself back from frowning at his poor present state before venturing out of the room with a 'i'll be right back.' and indeed he had been, with two different vials, alongside a few syringes to inject into that IV bag: should jervis want to be medicated. jack figured it'd be easier to just do that rather than forcing him to swallow anything.
he placed those also on the table before tilting his head at the quote jervis had said until it clicked a few seconds later, ❝ that's a quote from through the looking glass, isn't it? and one that the red queen said in the story if i remember correctly. she was basically teaching alice that staying in the same place is falling behind, right? ❞ jack squinted his eyes at that before a thought came to mind. a soft snort left him, but one that was done of an innocent sort of amusement rather than malice. ❝ that is a kind of roundabout way of talking about survival of the fittest. but hey, lewis carroll was all about the whimsy of things, i guess. and its no big deal. ❞
jack pretended not to see the tears that the other shed for jervis's own sake. the blood on his lips was something he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried, though. jack grabbed a washcloth from his pack and held it out towards's jervis's hand. once it was out of his hand was when jack set down that teacup, the slightly too long stripped pants he wore swaying across the ground. ❝ mm, you and dad were both asleep for nearly four hours. sure — i don't think that's silly at all. i keep something on me all the time from when my brother, julien, was still around. ❞ the bracelet he showed the other on his right wrist then seemed to be made up entirely of tiny conch shells.
julien was a big fan of the sea, which jack thought made his death all the more crushing. after seeing the state that the stuffed animal was in, he figured that that bunny must've been really loved; though it didn't really matter by whom it was. the end result was the same, as love changes you. jack knew this well as he'd never wanted anything more than to be embraced by the warmth of it.
he quickly shook that thought off, only to grab the two vials he got from the fridge once more. ❝ eh... the four hours actually went by rather fast. ❞ jack cleared his throat then, ❝ you know, i couldn't help but notice that you aren't looking so hot still, and so i grabbed some meds for you. but i won't force you to take them. i have a pain reliever as well as something that relieves vertigo. are either, or both of these, something you want? ❞
Eigengrau.
A faint hum buzzed in his ears; his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of wool.
The thin sheet beneath him brushed his fingertips as Jervis flexed his hands, cracking his eyes open a sliver. The room tilted, everything blurring at the edges. Ah… so he had fainted. Just as he’d suspected. No glasses, then.
"Hey. Ahh, you're awake… That's awesome. How are you feeling?"
The new voice was barely a whisper, young and uncertain—belonging to a boy, maybe sixteen or eighteen by the timber. Was this another of Barton's assistants, a friend of Matilda’s, or perhaps her brother? Jervis couldn’t quite remember; hadn't Barton mentioned something about having more than one child?
He winced, his body feeling heavy, leaden; aching everywhere. Slowly, he exhaled and tried to push himself upright—tried being the keyword. The effort brought only a wave of vertigo, dizzying and blue-hot, making his vision swim.
… ohh, god…
He swallowed thickly, curling into himself. Something wasn’t right. His glasses and gloves weren’t the only thing missing. He was in his socks, jeans, and a now damp charcoal t-shirt, his body slick with cold sweat. His graying auburn curls clung to his neck in tangled ropes. His boots were beside the cot, his messenger bag on a desk across the room. His overcoat and maroon button-down were draped over a chair.
A flicker of discomfort in his right arm. Burning. Tugging.
Jervis glanced down at the source: a plastic tube. A peripheral IV catheter.
"Ah, you know... 'It takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place,'" he muttered, his voice clipped and hollow; Bermudian accent casual, almost detached. He turned his eyes to the boy; offered him a faint, strained smile. "Keeps things interesting, I suppose... but I appreciate your concern, lad."
He lifted his fingers to his cheek, feeling the moisture trickle down—salt on his lips. Tears, sharp and stinging. Jervis flinched and quickly scrubbed them away with the heels of his hands.
Cold metal pressed into his spine, tight around his neck—the chain with his and Sylvie’s wedding rings twisted against his skin. He must’ve been thrashing in his sleep. There was blood on his lips.
"Forgive me…" His vision swam as he watched the boy set a teacup on the small table beside the cot, just within view. "But I'm afraid I've rather lost my sense of time. How long has it been since I…?" He paused, his voice barely steady. "... if... if you don’t mind, could you please reach into my coat pocket? You'll find a small cuddly toy. A rabbit..." He rubbed his mouth, lowered his eyes. "It sounds foolish, I know... but it... it was my daughter's, you see..."
The boy nodded, moving quickly to retrieve the toy from Jervis’ coat pocket, and placed it on the table beside the teacup. The bunny was missing one of its button eyes, its white fur faded and matted. A pink satin ribbon around its neck was frayed and tattered.
“Thank you,” Jervis said hoarsely. “I must have been out of it for quite a while.”
#divingdownthehole#tw: mentions of child death.#tw: medication.#tw: illness.#ooh okay okay 👀 that song was also a really good listen while reading your reply! like GAH you are just so good at selecting songs-#that capture the vibes of your replies perfectly tbhhh. BUT hiii!! and aww well i was just telling you the truth about how i felt but#its no problem at all emi!!! and OMG really? honestly i didn't get that impression at all as i thought your reply perfectly described-#just how complex the effects of trauma on a person can be as characters are a reflection of real life people so it only makes sense-#that jervis's mind is just... so chocked full of images related to the things he's been through despite him not wanting to be reliving#these events or seeing them anymore you know? and i honestly can't blame him for seemingly not wanting to do either of those things as#recovery + healing isn't really ever a straight path as you pointed out there. thus i didn't think any of it was overdramaticized or#anything of that nature! so don't worry you're totally good with that!! but yeah jervis as a character has really been dealt a bad hand#in my opinion and that's really unfortunate because no one deserves having to lose their parents or lose their daughter ):#and jervis is at a spot in his timeline where he has still lost alice relatively recently right? so that's just. UGH i feel so bad for him#tbh as having to experiencing one of your kids dying sounds really terrible.#but AWW well thank you so much for saying so!! it makes me so happy to hear that you're always excited for them. but yeahhh-#trust me when i say their madness may be even worse when they're just amongst themselves unfortunately enough ahahhh... 🫠#but i'm so honored? that you were intrigued?? by my description of him??? like AHHH i'm giving you the biggest hug RN and i just-#want to say TYSM once more!!! but yes i'm not going to lie because jack + julien were basically like brothers before barton-#even came along jack was very attached to him and julien didn't like killing people either so he was sort of a good influence on him#which might be part of the reason why he is the way he is now TBH but sadly dysfunctional family dynamics often leave people#suffering in their own way from it as you said. but AHH thank you!! you're so sweet PLSSS like i'm glad that you find him interesting-#BC he is a good person at heart unlike barton but they contrast in a different way than say jervis and him would since he tries-#to live his life down the straight and narrow buttt that doesn't always happen for him. and yesss barton is back to bother everyone / hj#LOLLL but gosh you're right!! i think i remember you mentioning it back then :00 but yeah i did some casual research on on it when you-#mentioned the quote in your reply and i thought that the red queen hypothesis had something to do with darwin's survival of the fittest-#idea + it turns out that i was right so i am somewhat proud of myself for that NGL lmao but TBH that is just another example of you-#using such good character writing with jervis because subtext and nuance is like one of those things that i find hard to write sometimes#but what a character doesn't say is also just as important AS what they say so its interesting that you'd bring that up. but huh i never-#actually thought of it that way before but that does definitely seem to check out if i'm being honest. BC grief never truly goes-
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neonln4 · 25 days ago
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i found a good boy, and he's on my side | lando norris smau
lando norris x reader | a little bit of best friend!oscar
summary: when y/n's ex writes a messy song about her, fans push for lando to break up with her (he doesn't even consider it)
fc: sabrina carpenter
kind of a part 2 to what a coincidence, but you don't have to read part 1 for this to make sense
warnings: non-existent angst, lando very much in love with y/n, very brief mention of cheating (not lando), maybe some typos
note: y/e = your ex
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yourex
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liked by user1 and 593,827 others
yourex Biting My Tongue out tonight
Finally sharing my truth
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user1 WE LOVE YOU Y/E
user2 ready for the tea 🍿
ynfan2 PLEASE LEAVE Y/N ALONE I BEG WE'RE OVER YOU
ynfan1 "sharing my truth" OHHHH BROTHER
user3 the y/n fans getting nervous
ynfan2 not nervous, sick of his lies
user2 perhaps y/n isn't as perfect as you think
user4 anyone else just here for the music
user5 @ yourusername YOU ARE SO OVER
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbff, and 1,138,827 others
yourusername leng
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ynfan2 UNBOTHERED QUEEN
user2 is she just pretending her ex didn't drop a shady song about her
user6 lando still in the likes ... this is so sad
yourbff your reminder to not wear the red top this weekend
yourusername you've seen my outfits already TRUST there's no red in sight
landonorris that's my girl
ynfan1 MOTHER IS GOING TO SILVERSTONE
user4 how has lando not dumped you yet
user5 you really don't deserve lando
user3 HAS LANDO HEARD THE SONG YET? DUMP HER!!!
ynfan3 what's with all the loser hate comments
landonorris my girlfriend is sooooo leng now come give me a kiss
yourusername calm down
yourusername on my way tho
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landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 983,492
landonorris a little summer fun
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user1 JEALOUS
yourusername who's the baddie
landonorris that's my girlfriend mate back off
ynfan2 WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS
user3 waiting for the dumping...
user4 crazy that they're still together
user8 i think some of y'all are a bit dramatic, the song wasn't even that bad and it's just his perspective
ynfan3 A LANDO FAN WITH A BRAIN
yourbff last pic i want her baddddd
landonorris so you don't want [redacted]'s number anymore?
yourbff WAIT I TAKE IT BACK
ynfan2 QUEEN Y/BFF FINALLY APPROVING OF ONE OF Y/N'S MEN
oscarpiastri you stole my best friend
yourusername we literally have plans next week
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,293,283 others
yourusername is this thing on? 🎤
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ynfan1 MOTHER IN THE STUDIO!!!!!
ynfan2 the last pic has me crying 😭😭 i just know she's about to be a menace
user2 if she's actually making a response song that's kinda pathetic
user3 right? her fans all say y/e is using her for fame but she's also doing it
yourbff let me hear it first
oscarpiastri i better get the link first
landonorris ignore both of them, i get first dibs
user1 THE DRAMA if she's making a response song lando better get out of there quick before he's her next victim
user4 WE DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE
ynfan3 all these haters camping on y/n's post omg she's so famous
ynfan4 WE LOVE YOU Y/N IGNORE THE LOSERS
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,428,372 others
yourusername my turn🩷
surprise! planned to keep these in the vault, but i guess things change. 'vicious' and 'eternal sunshine' live performances out now on youtube! studio version out friday 💋
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landonorris proud of you love 🤍
yourusername 🧡🧡🧡
ynfan2 OH MY GOD NO WAYYYYYYY
ynfan3 "my turn🩷" THAT'S MOTHERRRRRRRRR
ynfan1 love lando supporting her through it all that's a good man
ynfan4 SHE SPILLED Y/E IS SO DONE
yourbff i love you so much!!!
yourusername love you!!
user3 these songs are really good ... sorry for hating before
user1 some of y'all switching up in the comments, she could be lying!!
ynfan5 perhaps i misinterpreted the lyrics, but did y/e CHEAT ON HER???
ynfan3 pretty sure 👀
yourusername
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liked by yourbff, landonorris, and 1,391,283 others
yourusername it doesn't get, doesn't get better than this 🧡
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yourbff LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH
ynfan4 THESE HAVE TO BE LYRICS
ynfan3 more lover girl music coming soon LET'S GOOOOOOO
ynfan2 y/n writing her two shady songs about y/e then going back to writing cheesy love songs for lando we love to see it
landonorris how i obsessively adore you 🤍
ynfan2 y'all they're quoting future lyrics right in front of our faces i just know it
user3 it's not looking like a break up any time soon
oscarpiastri answer my texts
yourusername sorry been busy 🤭
oscarpiastri disgusting
yourusername NOT LIKE THAT.
ynfan5 Y/NLANDO WILL ALWAYS PROSPER
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 1,028,832 others
landonorris we are never breaking up btw
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ynfan2 LMAOOOOOO
yourbff i'll have to break all of your bones if you ever hurt her
landonorris the scary thing is that i actually believe that you would
oscarpiastri hurt her and your life is over
landonorris DAMN DID Y'ALL READ THE CAPTION OR NO
user3 they're kinda growing on me y'all ...
ynfan4 everyone say we love you mom and dad
user4 worst news of my life
user2 i'm gonna be forced to like her this is terrible
yourusername thank god
landonorris if you leave me i think that i just might lose it completely
yourusername don't ever quote my songs at me again
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kathaynesart · 8 months ago
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The eye of the hurricane. I like to think Cassandra sometimes called the brothers by the nicknames their dad used, given they were probably pretty close before his passing.
BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST
Man oh man, this one was way messier and off model than my last few updates but whatever, we got to keep this ball rolling! Life's been crazy so I've had to take some unwanted breaks in between updates. Thanks everyone for your patience as always!
One thing I wanted in this flashback was to really get a sense of how the brothers worked as an experienced team with Leo at the helm as a proper leader. It's something we never got to see much of in Rise and I felt it was important to include since half the team is already gone by the time of Replica. Team Dynamics Ted Talk under the cut!
We know from Casey Jr that Leo stressed the importance of listening to your team. A big part of that also means knowing how to communicate with them in general.
With Michelangelo, he keeps it short and succinct, trusting his brother to know what he's doing when in his element. This trust goes a long way with Mikey, having spent years of his youth as the baby striving for the respect he felt he deserved. Leo knows it's best to not bog Mikey down with details, allowing him to improvise as needed. This unspoken freedom has only grown over time as Mikey has dipped deeper into spiritual arts that, frankly, go completely over Leo's head.
The greatest sacrifice Leo has ever made was read Donnie's Big Book of Bad Guy Codes. While he doesn't remember ALL the numbers, he has memorized the ones that matter and it has helped tremendously in avoiding miscommunication with his genius brother. More importantly it silenced any of Donnie's usual belly-aching. As Leo's "twin"/"equal" the two still butt heads from time to time. Donnie respects his brother's authority (mostly) but will still push the boundaries of what he's allowed on a semi-regular basis. Give Donnie an inch and he will take the mile and then find a loop hole that allows him to go twenty miles more. This is partially due to him often being the one left behind at HQ, making the turtle just a TAD stir crazy. Leo does his best to keep him in line regardless.
Big brother Raph will forever and always be big brother to Leo. As such he holds a place of authority in Leo's heart and is someone he still regularly seeks counsel from in both the ways of leadership and more. Raph is always happy to support his younger brother and does a surprisingly good job (albeit after years of practice) of walking the line so as not to step on his brother's toes in the process. At least not since the secret of "the Key" blew up in their faces several years ago. They don't talk about that anymore. Leo is the leader now and he's done a great job in recent years as far as Raph is concerned. He trusts him to make the right call. The two have a close bond and regularly use mind meld to quickly communicate rather than speak ...this will be important to remember for the future.
Hope that overall feeling came through for this group!
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5sospenguinqueen · 3 months ago
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A Million Kisses - Arthur Leclerc x Reader
Summary: You and Arthur have spent your entire life terrorising Charles. But when he turns the tables on you, bringing up a topic you’ve largely ignored since your teenaged years, the dynamic changes.
Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Bullying Charles
2024 timeline. Pinterest pics. Childhood friends to lovers trope
F1 Masterlist
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scuderiaferrari just posted
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liked by its_yn_ln, arthur_leclerc and others 
scuderiaferrari just friday things 
1,997 comments
pierregasly you all know what’s coming
user1 oh dear, not a charles post
its_yn_ln another day, another thirst trap. bet he posted this himself
arthur_leclerc not what i wanted to see when i opened up my phone 
→ its_yn_ln agreed, i think i’ve gone blind 
user2 every charles post summons yn and and arthur
arthur_leclerc where’s the carlos content? only reason i followed
→ charles_leclerc i’d like both of you to piss off
→ its_yn_ln that’s not a nice way to talk to your fans 
alexandrasaintmleux 💕
→ its_yn_ln did charles force you to write that so that it seemed like somebody liked him?
→ arthur_leclerc don’t be silly, yn. he took her phone and wrote it himself 
user3 not the terror twins at it again
user4 poor charles has been suffering from this ever since he joined f1
→ user5 and prior, it just wasn't as well documented lol 
user6 i bet charles begs admin to cancel his posts because he lives in fear of the comments
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charles_leclerc just posted
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charles_leclerc beach days 
1,616 comments 
pierregasly looking good, brother (but i’m praying for you for when they see this) 
its_yn_ln and i thought narcissus loved himself 
→ charles_leclerc i miss the days before arthur befriended you 
→ arthur_leclerc so before we were both born?
→ charles_leclerc exactly 
scuderiaferrari making the most of summer break
→ user7 he’s actually begging for you to take him back so that he doesn’t have to spend another minute with yn and arthur 
its_yn_ln put your chitties away 
→ user8 when people ask me what my fav part of f1 is, i show them yn’s comments 
arthur_leclerc not shown is charles eating waves every two seconds 
→ charles_leclerc still did better than you. you wouldn’t stop staring at yn long enough to concentrate on the waves 
→ user9 what did he sayyyy
→ user10 my ynarthur heart is screaming
→ user11 um, guys, who else thinks there’s truth to this
→ user12 no because they have NEVER let charles have the last comment yet neither clap back at this??
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its_yn_ln just posted
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its_yn_ln as charles once said, beach days ☀️ although my post is better because it has me and arthur in it 
965 comments
arthur_leclerc anything is better with us and not charles 
→ its_yn_ln more fun too 
→ arthur_leclerc that’s just me, chérie
→ user14 i’m not screaming, you are 
alexandrasaintmelux belle fille
→ its_yn_ln pas comparé à toi. still not sure what you’re doing with charles
→ alexandrasaintmleux doesn’t she look gorgeous @/arthur_leclerc?
→ arthur_leclerc you and charles deserve each other
charles_leclerc and no thank you to the brother who lent you his yacht for your date? 
→ alexandrasaintmleux bébé, it is not a date? remember they made it quite clear
→ charles_leclerc all i’m saying is i do not look at or touch my friends like that 
→ joris_trouche be weird if you did
→ charles_leclerc see @/its_yn_ln weird 
→ its_yn_ln blocked 
francisca.cgomes stunning
→ its_yn_ln marry me?
→ pierregasly @/arthur_leclerc come get your girl 
→ its_yn_ln don’t you fucking start 
oscarpiastri was he holding your hand so you didn’t fall into the water?
→ arthur_leclerc it’s what any good friend would do 
user15 yn and arthur seem to be getting awfully defensive lately 👀
→ user16 no. they’ve always talked about how annoying it is to be accused of being more than friends so how about you don’t contribute to that 
→ user17 yeah but things between them seem to be different lately and now the drivers are publicly commenting on it? 
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arthur_leclerc just posted
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arthur_leclerc from 2 months to 22 years. it’s been a delight to share every special moment with you. happy birthday, mon problème 🥳🤍
1,027 comments 
its_yn_ln i can’t believe you dug out that baby photo 😭 i look forward to another year with you by my side x
its_yn_ln although waking up to find out you had broken into my apartment and filled it with balloons was a bit of a shock
→ charles_leclerc you might need to get used to seeing that ugly mug first thing in the morning
→ user1 what does this mean?! 
lilymhe okay but the tiara and the shades? iconic
→ its_yn_ln i’m an icon
→ charles_leclerc that’s not how you translate diva 
alexandrasaintmleux happy birthday, yn. can’t wait to see you at dinner later
→ its_yn_ln can my birthday present be you leaving charles at home?
pierregasly happy birthday, yn. drinks on me later
→ its_yn_ln okay, you’re forgiven for teaming up with charles
→ pierregasly i’m not team charles. i’m team ynarthur
→ charles_leclerc we had shirts made
→ arthur_leclerc not today, guys. 
→ user2 oo he used a full stop. he’s pissed
user3 guys, do we think the baby is just a phrase like ‘chaos baby’ or a pet name?
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user4 arthur truly is the epitome of ‘if he wanted to, he would’
→ user5 never saw him put in this much effort for any of his previous relationships but yn gets the full princess treatment 
user6 anyone else see that arthur liked @/PastryMan’s tweet about yn
→ user7 okay but let’s not read too much into it. he could just appreciate the compliment fans are giving to his best friend instead of the usual hate people associated with drivers get 
→ user8 also, he was likely highly intoxicated last night lol. pr training vanishes at that point
→ user9 or, hear me out, like his brother and close friends are suggesting, he’s in love with yn 
user10 okay but proof or it didn’t happen @/NoRizz. you wouldn’t be the first one to spread gossip about drivers 
→ user11 okay, i take back my previous comment. i have since seen proof
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charles_leclerc just posted
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charles_leclerc let’s take a moment to appreciate my photography skills. (oh, and the fact that i am a genius and should not be doubted or ridiculed again) tagged: its_yn_ln, arthur_leclerc 
2,024 comments 
its_yn_ln insert ‘i am stupid’ charles radio here. even YOU think you’re stupid and like you said, we shouldn’t argue with you 
→ charles_leclerc i hate you 
→ its_yn_ln okay but i distinctly remember you asking to be my maid of honour yesterday so…? fake news 
arthur_leclerc can’t really boast about your photography skills when these are all grainy/blurry 
→ charles_leclerc i hate you 
→ arthur_leclerc you literally cried when you caught us sleeping
→ its_yn_ln so loud that it woke us up 
→ user12 he really is their #1 stan
francisca.cgomes the cutest couple 
→ pierregasly what about us?
→ its_yn_ln you don’t deserve her
→ pierregasly what did i do? 
→ pierregasly you should be thanking us! if not for our torment, you and arthur never would’ve been forced to confront your feelings
lilymhe tell that man to get his hands off my wife
→ its_yn_ln look away! it was a moment of weakness 
→ arthur_leclerc she’s loved me for 22 years. she’s only known you for 5, back off
its_yn_ln bébé, why is your brother so obsessed with us?
→ arthur_leclerc he has nothing better to do
→ charles_leclerc merde, i thought sucking each other’s faces would keep you too preoccupied to attack me
→ arthur_leclerc never
→ its_yn_ln well, maybe if you stopped taking pics of us when we did, we’d be more inclined to 
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Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my masterlist :)
2K notes · View notes
jiminrings · 3 months ago
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if-then
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pairing: jungkook x reader
wordcount: 7k
glimpse: you're an alien in prince jungkook's planet — both literally and figuratively.
alternatively, jungkook gives his nickname for you to someone else in a fit of anger, and you've never been more upset.
[ fluff, angst, painfully oblivious n dense alien koo, mutual pining (yes MUTUAL!!!!), the glaring concept of not being good n whole enough to deserve love (yikes but i Swear it gets better), mentions of injuries ]
notes: after being asked for literal years to write an alien au, it's finally here!!!! mwah thank u for patiently waiting :D
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!
Jungkook’s fond of appraising things.
He’s fond of assigning values to things that may or may not hold some bit of importance to his life, whether its value proves itself in the present or the future. Jungkook likes setting his literal ducks in a row, and the little inanimate yellow tokens that his brother brought back from Earth serve as a discreet (not really, though) reminder that he may have some hoarder tendencies.
Jungkook’s not really a hoarder-hoarder; it just happens that he likes keeping things, sometimes for no apparent reason at all.
He likes swiping the flashlights that the night guards use to stash in his own personal “emergency” (not that there’s ever been one, nor will there ever be) cabinet, just because he wants to be prepared for a natural catastrophe that won’t probably ever happen in his area. He’s already seen a couple of films that humans have made, and if ever comes a time that Planet Twell has a dinosaurian monster battle it out with a gigantic prehistoric ape, Jungkook’s proud to say that he has a couple flashlights for him and his brothers to use.
In addition, Jungkook likes picking flowers just before they go out of season. His eldest brother’s already cussed him out for it, but he’ll still do what he does best (?), if best means “preserving” the flowers by drowning them in water every ten minutes so they wouldn’t wilt and he’d still get to see them during off-peak days.
Prince Jungkook likes appraising things in his own definition and pace. They’re never categorized in his head for what they actually do, but for what kind of unexplainable fulfillment fills his chest whenever he thinks about the item.
The youngest prince of Twell didn’t like it when there was a commotion at the lily field and the citizens ran out to see what it was about, instead of eating their slices of cake with the fondant that he made out of scratch. Jungkook didn’t like the fondant either because there must be something insanely wrong with itself (or it’s just that he made it just as bad), but he didn’t like being alone either when finding out about the taste.
He didn’t like seeing the tiger lilies he planted himself squished underneath an unknown figure, who may or may not have fallen from the sky, judging by the way you’re wincing alone with no aircraft, no parachute, nor any other person with you.
Jungkook didn’t like seeing you, an alien, who’s just as confused with the entire ordeal. You can’t remember anything about how or why you’ve gotten here — all you know is your name and who you are, and unexpectedly so, the first prince who’s gotten to where you are isn’t so thrilled about the fact.
He’s fond of appraising things, and although he’s not extremely excited about you just as he had been when Yoongi brought home trinkets from him during his trip to Earth (including the very seeds for the tiger lilies you’ve destroyed), he’ll make do.
Jungkook will try and make you mean something, if not everything, to him.
.
.
.
Prince Jungkook has come to learn that you’re part human.
You’re neither fully his kind nor his type (or atleast that’s what he thinks so) and he doesn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know what to feel about only the slight panic that filled you knowing that it’s still unexplained of how or why you’re in Twell; even more, he doesn’t know what to feel that you’re neither scared nor intimidated by him.
You don’t know what to feel either when Jungkook, who’s only mildly shocked about your existence in general, delivers his first question to you and it’s not of the sort that you expected. He looks soft and round, unlike the hearsay about his kind that only amounts to half of you. He doesn’t look aloof and unaccepting at all — if anything, he looks at you like you’re the one who’s cruel instead of him.
Jungkook almost completely does not care about who you are or where you’re from, but what he cares about is if you have any trinkets with you that he could possibly have. Out of anything he could possibly solicit from you, he only asks for so little, no matter how odd.
“T-trinkets?” you squeak, brows raising in surprise. “I’m sorry, Prince Jungkook — y-you’re asking if I have trinkets so you could have them?”
“Yeah,” he nods, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out as he confirms your confusion. “It’s my birthday, and I want to have a trinket.”
“Oh,” you blink once, twice,  a small smile playing on your lips to replace the fact that you’ve been confused for the entire half hour since you came back to consciousness. “Happy birthday, prince.”
“I see.” 
“It’s thank you,” you mutter automatically, coughing lightly when he only knits his brows at you. He’s cute this way — innocent, even. “I-I mean you’re supposed to say thank you when someone greets you, or when someone does something nice for you in general.”
“Okay. My brother forgot to teach me that,” Jungkook hums in recognition, eyes briefly glowing with a bluish hue before he regains his composure. “Thank you.”
You wonder if staring is also frowned upon in this planet.
You wonder if it would get you a mean glare or a sarcastic snicker if you were to stare at Prince Jungkook a little longer without any thoughts floating in your brain, except for the fact that you are completely unaware that you’re already zoning out on him. 
You wonder if it would be wrong for your eyes to take in every single detail of him from his short hair that softly falls onto his forehead, to his supposed birthday attire that only consists of a white button-up, to his gleaming royal jewelry that rightfully so, only looks like it would belong to him and him only.
“Trinket?” he reminds you, head tilting and eyes widening as he cranes his neck to look at you beyond the table that separates the both of you.
“Oh! U-uhm,” you scour your pockets immediately just to present something, and bluntly put, you haven’t even checked your well-being, much less the possessions you have on yourself. You feel more than relieved to know that it isn’t empty, because oddly enough, you’d feel a little upset— a little down if you were to disappoint a prince you just met not more than an hour ago. “I have this handkerchief, I guess.”
“Perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, leaning to grab the baby blue square from you that’s embroidered with your initials that are unfamiliar to him. He clutches it into his hand tightly with a smile on his face, the happiness later dwindling when he realizes he has no clue of what he’s holding. “What is it supposed to do?”
You blank at that, meekly scratching your temple. “Nothing, I think. It’s just there for most people, but I’ve never had to use it.”
“You’ve never had to use it, but you still take it with you?” he attempts to clarify, a slight frown embedded into his lips as he looks down on your averagely prized possession.
“I don’t mean never as in never ever, and I’ve used it a couple of times like everyone else does, but it’s just-…” you trail off, shrugging helplessly because you can’t describe the concept of nothing to him easily. “It’s just there.”
You’re more than fatigued and a lot more confused (albeit less worried) about the semantics of your presence here in Twell, specifically in Prince Jungkook’s office, but the latter doesn’t seem to take mind as he takes you with an open mind.
“Okay. Thank you. I’ll have it,” he announces, shifting his eyes between you and your (his now) handkerchief that he’s slowly and hesitantly unraveling, only to put back into its original square form after every move.
“You will?” you almost snort, a tiny bit amused that a prince is clenching your handkerchief like its the most interesting thing in the galaxy.
“Yes,” he hums distractedly, looking up at you as he lightly scratches the embroidered teddy bear at the corner of the fold. “I will have you too.”
“You will?! You’re not going to dispose me or anything?” you straighten immediately, eyes more frantic and disbelieving to hear that you’re being taken care of (or something of the sort) than just awhile ago when you were unsure of your fate. “Why?”
“Don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs just as easily as you do. “I just want to.”
( ♡ ) 
Prince Jungkook isn’t so bad, and neither is Twell.
The planet isn’t so bad in the sense that although you don’t feel the most welcome you have ever been in your entire life, there’s a recognition that seeps into your bones that some of them, if not most, would set out a plate for you if ever Jungkook came into their homes. He’s the social butterfly of his family; the baby lamb that’s set out into the field to check up on everyone else and act as a mannequin of sorts that’s a little less superficial, and a little more warm.
Jungkook isn’t so bad either in the sense that although it’s the bare minimum to do so, he doesn’t throw his kindness back to your face even in the most critical situations, with now being the sole exception.
With the exception of now, Prince Jungkook has not ever acted rashly towards you. He wasn’t annoyed with you when you kept asking him questions of what it would mean to act as his security detail, and he wasn’t irked either when your questions about your heritage (and his by extension) toed personal lines that no one else would dare cross.
With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never acted rude towards you. He wasn’t as guarded with your existence like his older brothers were; as a matter of fact, he even came to your defense when some of them theorized that you were only here in their planet to act as a precursor for their downfall.
With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never been this cruel; with the ultimatum of his pride over your heart, he’s never made you feel this different and alienated from him — with, of course, the exception of now.
Heartbreak is a human emotion.
The weakness of the concept is disturbingly human and vulnerable. There’s no escape from it, even if the said percentage of human in your blood is barely half and could light a candle to your more evolved, far more powerful Twellian genes. It’s a sickening emotion to feel, much more have it get you carried away from what you have to do at hand.
The grip that said heartbreakhas on you is unimaginable, far more different than what your people, not humans, tell you how it’d feel like. There had already been an uproar when it was announced that you were appointed as Prince Jungkook’s guard, the news of an impure Twellian bearing the coveted position receiving every reaction possible — from fear, to distaste, and even to genuine amazement.
All of the kingdom’s advisers had theorized that despite you of being impure heritage, youwere superior in terms of physical capabilities. With everything else you’ve been theorized to lack at, you bite at the possibility that the ache in your chest is attributed to your stunted emotions.
You feel painfully human. You feel what heartbreak is, and compared to what others have made it out to be, it’s an emotion that you can’t put into words.
“You can’t, Jungkook,” you firmly say once more with your ears ringing, not because the volume of the club makes you want to get down on your knees, but because you’ve perhaps heard something far worse; far more grating, and far more overwhelming than what your heart could even bear. "All of your brothers specifically insisted for me to bring you back before midnight."
They say that your hearing’s supposed to be better. They say that you could see far more colors than what your alien counterpart could ever do. They say that for everything else you lacked, you made up for with the way you’re more physically advanced and therefore adept to protecting the planet’s youngest prince.
No one’s ever said that you’ll be safe from Jungkook himself.
"Jungkook, let's go home. Please," you plead through your teeth, the word you’ve last spoken being the latest term you’ve taught him. Jungkook, along with everyone else, is not familiar with begging; they’re not familiar with desperation so wrung out, there’s actually a word made just for it.
Jungkook only scowls at you, eyes turning a bright red as opposed to his usual pink allotted for you. "Butt out," he murmurs, tightly crossing his arms as his nostrils flare involuntarily. ”You promised me I could be out tonight."
You’re starting to get over the heartbreak little by little, the tantrum thrown by the young prince making you indifferent. 
Maybe you just misheard a few minutes ago — maybe, it was only a fluke and you didn’t hear it correctly the first time. Maybe it’s only your faulty impureness that made you susceptible to just hearing your nickname out of nowhere. Maybe, it’s not heartbreak that you were feeling, but rather only a subdued version of it by seeing Jungkook disappointed at you doing your job.
It’s your fault, you guess. Perhaps it’s the fault of the bustle of the club and the hundreds of dialects you could hear all at once finally got to you, overwhelming you to the point that you heard Jungkook calling for your name, despite not looking at you all.
You’re about to plead even more for the both of you to go back already; to save him from a lecture from all of his brothers and for you to be spared an even harsher scolding because they think you’ve gone too soft for him — but then you hear it. Again. 
Jungkook clenches his jaw tightly, eyes glowing a bright magenta before he opens his mouth.
"Come on, princess," he calls you by his term of endearment for you, yet his hand is outstretched for the female Twellian on his side.
He’s not calling you — he’s not even paying attention to you. Jungkook isn’t giving you a shred of his focus but he wants you to hear him call someone else the endearment he had playfully made up for you, to which you grew accustomed to without fail. He wants you to see how he gives it to someone else easily, the syllables falling from his tongue easily getting into the girl’s head.
Jungkook wants you to know how angry he is over you doing your job, he hits you where it hurts. He has no idea what heartbreak is supposed to feel like, but he doubts that you’d even feel that emotion over what he’s done — and if you actually do over something seemingly simple (for him atleast), he could only think that everyone else is exaggerating what it felt like.
Your heart, whatever is human of it, skips. It tightens and it loosens alarmingly so, almost as if you have no control for the liquid hurt that compromises you.
“I’ll show you a good time tonight, princess,” Jungkook whispers to her ear loudly for good measure, eyes darting up at you, only for him to see that you’ve been watching the whole time. 
You almost can’t tear your eyes away until Jungkook crashes his lips into hers, your nickname easily falling out of his lips as if the endearment is free for everyone; as if it’s never been yours in the first place and you only borrowed it out of desperation.
Your whole flight home is quiet.
Jungkook makes it back home before midnight, but you don’t.
( ♡ ) 
Jungkook’s been looking for you the whole day.
He’s been looking for you since he woke up, and that was fifteen ungodly hours ago when he had risen in a cold sweat. Jungkook felt sick to his stomach, and despite his insistence that something must be severely wrong with him for him to feel that way, the palace doctor (along with every other physician, healer, and reader he knew of) confirmed that nothing was out of place.
Jungkook’s supposedly okay, yet it feels like every part of him is being wrung dry. There’s an ache to his chest that renders him stupid because he feels like he’s forgotten every word, every lesson, and every vaguest bit of semblance that would detail about what he felt.
All of a sudden, Jungkook feels like he’s forgotten what the palace looks like. It’s as if he’s forgotten how tiles are supposed to feel cold on bare feet and how bleak his days are when he doesn’t have you by his side, even if the palace is also occupied by his brothers and the grounds are teeming with staff.
The young prince suddenly feels that he’s forgotten the very layout of his home because his mouth is agape at each room he walks in, simply because you’re not there. He’s practically turned the palace upside down just to grab a whiff of you somehow, and yet you’re nowhere to be found. 
Nothing from his or his brothers’ belongings are missing. There’s not a single piece of furniture that’s tilted askew. Nothing has been taken from Jungkook except his peace of mind and the capacity to just stay still because your sudden disappearance unsettles him like no other.
.
.
.
You’re back home, except you’re no longer dressed in the same outfit you left him in. 
Your uniform’s been ditched for something more casual — something more worn and lived in to the point that it looks like a shirt that’s never been yours in the first place. The sight of you, dressed in clothes that’s not yours, puts a bitter taste to Jungkook’s mouth.
He’s never been that selfish before. He’s generous and lenient as far as a prince could go, and yet he’s never felt this territorial over something seemingly as trivial as a shared garment.
The concern feels too vulnerable to the point that only a silly human, something Jungkook’s not, would consider it as a burden.
“Where were you?” he asks with the gentleness he didn’t think he’d possess after being worried shitless about you, the panic he had harbored for the longest time immediately dissipating at you.
Jungkook wants to be mad at you so, so, so badly. He wants to be angry at the way it was irresponsible for you to be alone because after all, your strength wouldn’t compensate for the gleaming fact that you’re not from here in the first place.
“I was on my leave,” you answer simply, keeping your hands behind your back as if this was any other outing with Prince Jungkook and not just Jungkook, the same man who’d call you princess for fun and hold your hand just for the sake of it.
“I didn’t say you could be on leave,” he lowers his voice, jaw tightening at the sight of you being indifferent towards him.
“I asked your brothers.”
Jungkook feels that sickness again. He feels that tinge of metal that lingers in the roof of his mouth and he wants to spit it out in front of you just to see if he’d find something else that’s not the sensations he’s been experiencing since you came around; if he’d find something else that’s not your doing yet affects him just as much.
“What if I needed protecting, hm? What if something happened to me while you were gone?” Jungkook half-taunts, shrinking on himself despite doing his hardest to appear big by crossing his arms.
“I knew you were in good hands, prince,” you tense, the tide that comes with your tone washing over Jungkook until he drowns in the realization that you were there while she was in his quarters. “I made to sure to hear that you were in very good company before I left.”
( ♡ ) 
Jungkook’s on a self-imposed break from his duties.
The prince’s duties almost exclusively involved chatting and being charismatic in general, along with the occasional goodwill event wherein he had to be all over the place just to take care of things, and not once did he ever take this long of a radio silent break — or atleast that’s what one of his brothers said.
He’s been cooped up in his room since you came back two weeks ago. Despite your absence (if you could even call it that) that barely lasted for an entire day, along with your confrontation just spanning within minutes, it’s been theorized by one of Jungkook’s brothers, again, that it’s because of your doing.
The youngest prince is theorized to be sulking over you and you simply cannot believe it.
You refuse to believe that Jungkook is bedridden with sadness because to begin with, his kind isn’t even supposed to feel such type of intense emotion. He shouldn’t be swayed by you — he shouldn’t be preoccupied with such pathetic, human emotion that you thought only you could feel because of him.
You rebuff the idea that he’s paralyzed with guilt, not only because you feel that it’s physically impossible for him to be, but because it’s him. Someone of Jungkook’s power and influence wouldn’t be so ridden with guilt that he refuses to show his face to you because he’s ashamed of hurting you.
You reject with your whole heart each and every idea that his brothers pitch you. You stay stationary with Jungkook and yet you will yourself to amount to something, even if it isn’t for him, just so the sickening feeling of being replaced won’t ever creep up to you.
You’re in love with him and it’s terrifying.
What’s even more terrifying is that you’re not the only one who knows so.
“I suggest not falling in love with Jungkook.”
You look up so sharply, your neck aches at the speed. Yoongi stands above you with a perfunctory smile, and with just the tiny bit of effort for him to come near you almost makes you forget that he’s Jungkook’s brother who had been particularly vocal about being wary of you.
“I’m sorry?” you murmur in disbelief, eyes wide and unblinking as you take into account his perfect tone.
“It’s obvious, you know?” he smiles tightly, pulling a chair to sit himself down across from you. Yoongi looks relaxed as he takes you in, almost as if he hasn’t spent half a year avoiding you. “I’ve seen the way you look at my brother. I’ve seen it over and over again when I was sent for a mission on your planet.”
You want to ask him why he’s telling you this. You want to ask badly why he’s saying this now when you’ve been certain for the longest time that your adoration for Jungkook wasn’t apparent in a land of creatures that don’t know what love, in your own terms, is supposed to look like.
You want to ask Yoongi why it shouldn’t be Jungkook, but you can’t bring yourself to — not because you know the answer deep down in your subconscious, but because you’re afraid that he would only make sense—
That he’d only solidify why Jungkook should never be in your orbit.
“Oh,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you like my planet then?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“I’m sorry, my prince,” you immediately apologize, looking down on your lap as you wait for the impeding lecture; maybe even the impending punishment (you’re not sure what it is, but you know it would hurt someway and somehow) that comes with loving the prince, even by the sidelines.
“Jungkook is a wildcard at best,” he trails off, exhaling heavily as he listens for the heartbeat in the room behind you that houses his brother. “He’s brash and stubborn. He’s driven by emotions we are not even supposed to have.”
If Yoongi stands up now and jiggles the knob to Jungkook’s room with just the slightest bit of force, he can guarantee that the latter would be falling face-down to the floor, just because of the way he has his ears pressed to the door.
Jungkook is moping and sulking and to this day, he does remain miserable — the aforementioned factors don’t stop him from being desperate and nosy.
“What I’m saying is that he’s weak, Y/N,” Yoongi sighs. “The strong isn’t for the weak. That’s always been the case.”
“I know I’m weak, prince, but I-…”
“What?” the prince laughs out loud, the smile on his face wide and cheery. He’s so amused with you that his eyes glow into pink, throwing his head back as he regains his composure. “Jungkook’s the weak one. Not you, obviously,” he snorts. “He’s basically a loser with a crown on his head. He’s the one who doesn’t deserve you and not the other way around.”
You’re not the one who’s being insulted, and yet it feels like it. Your throat tingles and your ribs burn at the sudden urge for you to protect Jungkook, even if he’s in no real threat; even if it feels like all the baser parts of you are coming together just to make sense of the way you grow simultaneously weak and strong for him.
Jungkook, the actual subject who’s being insulted and is proving his brother right by being weak because he’s wallowing in his room out of self-deprecation, sadly hums to himself in agreement.
“I’m not-…”
“Don’t refute it — that’s an order.”
“Prince Yoongi,” you relent, trying to find the right words. “May I ask why you’re telling me this?”
“Because Jungkook’s weak,” Yoongi answers simply. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to be weak with him and for him.”
( ♡ ) 
You’re eating dinner by yourself in the staff room when Jungkook walks in.
It’s the first you’ve seen of him in three weeks. He’s evidently moving on from what seems to have been a rough period for him, right when you’re at your lowest that you’ve ever been.
Prince Jungkook decides that after three weeks, he should take you by surprise and meet you in the staff room wherein you’re alone, pushing your dinner around your plate instead of doing any other menial task you’ve assigned yourself just so it would feel like you’re in use.
You’re just there. You just happen to be there and no one, even you, could do anything about it. You just happen to be there with no exact purpose and it’s gnawing at you from the inside out.
It feels all over again that your family is the runt of the entire extended bloodline. It feels that you’re not remarkable enough for your relatives to surround you and that you don’t amount to anything enough, in whatever aspect it is, to get a shred of attention that isn’t pity,
It feels like the sinking sensation in your chest wherein you have to see that all your mom could contribute to the table is her trusted homemade recipe during holidays, lost amongst a sea full of pre-ordered meals that only your relatives could afford. Like it’s how your dad’s side of the family is borderline batshit crazy and he’s the only one that turned out to be good, and you can’t do anything but watch strangers your have for blood relatives belittle you. Familiarly so, it’s like you’re a kid again with your siblings sitting on the carpet and cleaning up wrapping paper from gifts, not because the gifts are for you, but because you just happen to be there.
You feel like the alien that you are wherein you don’t belong; wherein your family has to sit on the spare chairs dug up from the basement, situated on a portable table outside of the actual, solid dining table where everyone’s sat. 
Jungkook sits with you at that dusty, old portable table. He sits himself on the flimsy chair that’s only used for stepping and for laundry.
Jungkook sits with you, not because he just happens to be there, but because he’s there for you.
“I’m… sorry for calling someone else princess.”
“It’s no problem,” you murmur, putting your fork down as you keep your hands glued to your knees underneath the table.
“But there is a problem,” Jungkook counters, lowering his head to get you to look at him yet you don’t budge. “I’m not okay with calling anyone else princess other than you.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“Then suit yourself,” you quip, even with your voice shaky and your vision blurry.
“I’m-…” Jungkook starts again, racking his brain for the limited vocabulary he has that surely isn’t enough to make up for his grave msitake. “I’m very sorry for making you feel bad. It must have hurt.”
“It’s no problem.”
“There’s a problem,” he insists. “I’m saying sorry because I hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“But I did,” he frowns, beyond confused to why you keep denying the fact that he’s hurt you in ways he can’t even imagine.
“You really didn’t.”
“Why do you not want me to say sorry?” Jungkook questions, voice raising yet he still looks confused— innocent, even. “Did I… hurt you that much?”
It’s the last straw for you. The pure innocence in Jungkook’s words is and should be the last straw for you because it only makes you realize that he’d never understand you. It resonates in your head, more than ever, that you’ll never be able to understand him fully either because you’ll never be the same.
The only option the universe provides you is for you to love Jungkook halfway.
“You’ll have to excuse me, Prince Jungkook. I shall go back to-…”
“Can I not say sorry to you?” Jungkook bursts, darting his hand out blindly to get a hold on you before you leave.
“You can’t say sorry to me because all of this would feel real,” you ramble, shaking your head vehemently. “You should not say sorry to me because that would mean that I’m hurt because I love you.”
Jungkook looks at you innocently with his eyes wide and lips parted, blissfully unaware of the name to the sensation that keeps tugging at his chest to the point that it feels like it would burst open, yet above all else, he still dives in head-first.
“Can you not love me, princess?” he tilts his head. “Is it not allowed?”
( ♡ ) 
Yoongi’s words lie heavily on both you and Jungkook.
The prince’s sentiment stays on your chest like a paperweight that only grows heavier the more that you try to push it off. You know Yoongi means well, no matter how his words come across otherwise, but the longer that you think about his own suggestion regarding his brother, the more you feel unsure.
Jungkook’s made complete sense of his brother’s words on the other hand, and instead of being filled with a type of rage that only bubbles up when being looked down on, oddly enough, he comes to the truth quite easily.
He knows the truth that he’s weak despite painting himself the opposite, and he feels it the most now that you’re the one who’s distancing yourself from him. Jungkook feels like swallowing the sun and chasing it down with water when you respond to princess, even if it’s jokingly uttered by his brothers and not said sincerely by him alone.
He knows the truth that he’s the weak one in the family, if not the weakest, whenever he stands next to them. Jungkook may be the poster prince for the citizens but he knows the most out of everyone that he’s not as vital to the kingdom as the others are. He may get an assigned seat at the actual, solid dining table, but he knows that he’s not at the head of it.
He knows he’s weak, with and for you, and that’s never bothered him until it actually did.
Jungkook’s eyesight isn’t as good as yours.
Unlike you, he’s restrained by the entirety of his Twellian blood from immediately focusing his gaze on anything. There’s a lag that registers whenever he fixes his sight on anything, just like everyone else but you, and that hadn’t been a bother to Jungkook the whole time.
He had falsely assumed that since you’re the only one who’s different here, the only exception in the planet by being impure and partially human, you’d be the one who’ll have a hard time adjusting your daily life to his — not the other way around.
Jungkook, who had not once ever felt insecurity before, suddenly feels inferior. He feels like dirt and yet he’s angry, not because of the fact that he comes second to your abilities, but because he can’t do shit when it comes to you.
The prince’s eyesight isn’t good enough to notice the tiny little expressions that litter your face whenever something remotely intriguing happens to you. His hearing isn’t on par with yours because he can’t register the laugh in your voice as quickly as you could recognize his. He’s not on the same level as you and it’s only now that it bothers him—
The realization creeps into Jungkook, slowly yet unsettlingly, when he sees the cut on your cheek; the liquor of inferiority, chased down by Jungkook’s own rage, only hits him the moment he sees that a nasty bruise is blossoming by the corner of your eye.
Jungkook grips your jaw lightly out of nowhere, making you look up at him unexpectedly when you had been only preoccupied with fixing him his drink. The prince, no matter the unmistakeable rage that’s brewing in red, is the softest he’s ever been when it comes to addressing you.
“Who hurt you?” 
He has all his attention on you and it’s almost sickening with the way he doesn’t want to break off. Jungkook’s hand is still on your jaw and his eyes are still fixed on yours and yet his mind, whatever remains rational of it and not just vengeful, is going a million miles per hour.
“Get your hands off me,” you spit, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the vitriol that spills out of him so clearly, the air around both of you shifts.
“I asked you a question,”Jungkook repeats, putting is hand on your wrist firmly instead. He makes the grave mistake of looking down, though, because as soon as he realizes that there’s blood caked underneath your nails and that your knuckles are stained with your own blood, Jungkook can no longer hold himself back. “Who. Hurt. You.”
Jungkook’s reflexes are slow, but the moment your bottom lip trembles in vulnerability and pure bitterness, he feels as if time has caught on to the point that it’s only your anguish that sharpens his senses.
His feelings, even.
“If I tell you, would it make a difference? If I’m considered weak, Jungkook, then that means you’re even weaker,” you scoff, eyes trained on the ground with your head low so you could muffle the tremble in your voice; not that it would make your prince any less attuned to you.
Jungkook’s eyes remain narrowed at you, breathing heavily as you only state the facts not to insult him, but to remind the both of you of your place — or whatever is left clear of it because Jungkook can’t even think straight the longer that he looks at you hurting.
“What, prince? What are you gonna do about it?” you spit as the last resort, standing up abruptly to storm off and make an escape for it just once so you’ll be free of the burden of being yourself in Jungkook’s existence, yet he doesn’t let you.
The grip that the prince has on your arm is unstable yet unyielding at the same time, as if it’s taking everything in Jungkook to remain standing despite wanting to hunch over by the unexplainable tremor that roots from his chest.
(It is taking everything in him.)
“Burn,” he utters. “I’ll burn everything.”
“You’re-…”
“Weaker than you? I know that,” Jungkook interrupts, his lips set in a straight line as he lets himself be swept by the current that is you. “All the more reason to do everything for you then.”
The young prince doesn’t even break his gaze from you once, even if his pupils are trembling and his teeth are chattering out of the sheer trepidation that comes with being scared for someone else who carries your heart with them.
He doesn’t break his gaze from you, even for the briefest second, as he fishes out his (your) handkerchief from his pocket that’s there, not because it just happens to be, but because it’s allotted for you.
To love and to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides, and Jungkook no longer wants the star to swallow him whole because he doesn’t want you to be burned.
Jungkook wants to love you all the way.
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i-starcreamed · 2 months ago
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Can I request how Megs would feel if he fought his beloved, reader needs to beat some sense to him and help him from being blinded with hatred. (Tf one plz) Also I want a good ending cuz I'm still sad about the movie. And if it isn't obvious cybertronian reader.
MEGATRON X READER
Obviously Tf One spoilers! God this was so fun to write, I just hope I got their personalities right. I haven't written anything this long in a while !! Also I never knew I'd be so much of a Megatron enjoyer until this movie...yeah, it took me this long.
[ cybertronian! reader Angst and eventually fluff, could be pretty rushed tbh but I just want him to healll. Very NOT canon to the movie
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You knew it wasn’t your D-16 the moment his optics changed. Or maybe it was the way he distanced himself from you and your friends in a matter of hours--maybe minutes. It was a subconscious, subtle shift, but one you wished you could have talked him out of.
You suppose you saw the changed D-16 once you made it to the hideout of the High Guard fliers. Your once-kind, responsible lover was gripping Starscream by the neck, his hold tightening with every word from the flier beneath him.
You glanced at Orion, Elita, and Bee, all frozen in horror. You panicked and you stepped forward, placing your servo on his shoulder. Before you could continue, he whirled around, optics burning with a cold, harsh light—practically glaring at you.
“Y/N…“
“D, what the hell are you doing?!” You demanded, your voice steady despite his glare. “This isn’t like you, this isn’t the way, come on.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, his optics locked onto Starscream again. He was seething, the flier grinning through the pain wasn't helping your case either.
“Come on, do it! Do it, don’t be a c-coward!” Starscream sputtered through glitching vocal processors, even as D-16’s servo squeezed harder, threatening to crush the life from him.
D-16 narrowed his optics, “I’m not a coward!” He roared as Starscream’s cackling turned into garbled screeches
You attempted to push him away, roughly shoving him by the shoulder. “D, stop it!” He shoved you back. The sudden force sent you stumbling, and when you steadied yourself, you found yourself staring down the barrel of his arm cannon. His orange optics were locked on you, but for a fleeting moment, they softened. It was like he didn't recognize you, but then he hesitated.
“Stay out of my way, from now on.” He said lowly, as if his words pained him. “Please.”
His hesitation vanished as the cannon swung back toward Starscream. You stood there, stunned, until Orion and Elita rushed over to pull you up. Then you just stood and did nothing.
You watched in horror as D-16 continued to declare himself as someone they should follow to victory. Oh, you knew how much he wanted Sentinel dead now. Hell, you did too. But you weren’t sure if this was the right way. You weren’t a bad bot. Neither was D-16, he never was. You had to do something...before things got bad.
You recalled the moment just before he…snapped.
___
“Y/N, don’t you see? He’s been lying this whole time.” “Yes, D. I see, I know. But—“ “I want him dead. I just-I need..I need to see him suffer. Look what he did. To you. To me. To us. We could have been..so much more.” He placed his servo over your spark, right above where your transformation cog was. He used to dream of you two racing together, having fun. Hell, flying even. Back then he didn’t know what he would transform into. “We can still be more, D. We have a bigger purpose now, we were given the ability to transform by a prime himself. We just need to..show everyone the truth. And we will. Then we can—“ “It’s not enough.” He blurted out, pulling you closer as if it was the last time he’d hold you. “You deserve so much better. I promise you, Y/N. I promise you he will pay.”
___
Things only got worse from there. You reached your breaking point when you saw D-16—no, Megatron—vanish Orion himself. You couldn’t believe it. They were like brothers. And now, your beloved had become something else entirely. And yet, you still felt helpless.
You rushed over, avoiding and pushing the other bots as you made your way to where D-16 stood. They all cheered him on as he was trying to lift Sentinel into the air. He was going to kill him. He really was.
“D, stop it! Look what you’ve done!” You shouted, stomping your way forward, frustration boiling inside. You slammed your shaking fist into his shoulder. Primus, you were pissed at him right now.
“Please, please! Tell me what the hell you’re doing. This wasn’t a part of the plan.” You pleaded with him, hoping you’d somehow get him to react. Instead, he inched closer, the same stance you’d expect of someone challenging you. “No, you’re wrong. This was the plan. It was what had to be done. How can I get you to see that.” He visibly calmed for a moment, reaching out a servo to brush against the side of your faceplate. Despite everything, it’s still him. And he loved you.
You hesitated, then stepped back. Oh, how it pained you. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand your goal.” You said, barely above a whisper. Time seemed to freeze, and he slowly lowered his arm. In an instant, you watched his gaze darken.
“Then you’re just in my way.”
__
Your hopes were revived as Orion, now as Optimus Prime, came back, the matrix of leadership implanted into his chest. Optimus had saved the life of Sentinel (perhaps a little undeserved), knowing there was another way to deal with this. But now he has to save..practically all of Iacon. Maybe just maybe, between the two of you, you can stop Megatron.
The fight between the two friends wasn’t solving anything, you only feared they’d end up killing each other. You got rid of your fear, inserting yourself in the fight just as they managed to gain some distance from eachother. He grunted as you shoved him harder this time, his footing a bit unsteady from his existing injuries.
“What are yo—“
“I told you, stop. This,” you punctuated every word with a shove. “Is. Madness!” You panted, glaring up at your lover. “Come back to me, D. This isn’t the real you. I know it isn’t.” You pleaded, he responded with an irritated grunt.
“I, am Megatron. Not D-16, I am not that bot anymore. Y/N, stand down-“
“No! You stand down! You’re acting foolishly right now! I won't just stand here and watch you destroy yourself and--” You yelled, going straight for him to push him again, but he stopped you with a raise of his cannon. You froze in your tracks.
"Back down, Y/N." He said with a growl. You narrowed your optics, leaning your frame right up against the barrel, hearing a light clink.. The glow illuminated your armor. For a second, you saw his optics widen. He paused, licking his teeth. "I don't want to fight you. But I-"
"But you will if you have to, right? That's what you were going to say? Do it then," Your voice cracked, "I have nothing left to lose."
He huffed, so be it. He lunged towards you, and you raised your arms, blocking the strike. You opened up to move his blaster out of the way, leaving your side open to his incoming fist. It collided with your side, sparks flying from the contact. You grunted, stumbling back. When he came at you again, you caught his arm, pulling him close until you were face to face.
"We're both being foolish right now, are you happy yet? You panted, he grits his teeth.
"Quit saying that!" He growled, shoving you away. He shot his cannon, the blast flying past your side. You slid to avoid it, earning another blast from him. He fired his cannon, but the shot missed. He was aiming wide on purpose. You blinked, you knew his aim wasn't that bad...primus, he really was missing on purpose. If you weren't fighting right now, you'd swoon.
"Are you missing on purpose?" You asked incredulously.
"No! I.. yes..no! Listen to me, Y/N. We can end this now, if you let me do this one thing."
"You've already done enough. D..."
"Don't call me that."
He lunged again, but this time, you sidestepped, charging into him and sending him crashing to the ground, the side of his face hit the ground. You managed to pin him momentarily, struggling to keep him from standing.
"This isn't what you want. Trust me.." You paused. "Megs. Please."
He tensed beneath you, then slightly loosened as you called him 'Megs.'
"This is revenge, it won't help you feel any better. Not long-term. You'll only continue hating and hating, I can't bear to lose you like this. It's...it's tearing us apart." You shuddered, loosening your grip.
Eventually, you felt his breathing slow to a decent pace, slowly, you climbed off him, kneeling beside him. He sighed. "I..I don't know how to stop." He quietly said. You leaned forward, placing a servo against his jaw. "I can help you. I will help you. Megs, you have me with you. You have..Optimus with you. We're all with you."
You both knelt silently for a moment, gathering each other's thoughts. Finally, he had the courage to look up at you. You might never see those big yellow optics of his again, but at least now they weren't so cold. They held some type of sincerity. "I'm..so sorry." He breathed out.
You almost sighed in relief. "You're still angry, and that's okay, alright? Now it's my turn to promise you, we'll deal with this differently. It won't feel fair at first, but it's the right thing to do. Stand up." You gently said, extending your servo out to him. He slowly took your servo, his grip as gentle, almost afraid of breaking you. Primus, how he regrets hurting you. You can see it written all over his face. He was blinded by rage, he was indeed acting foolish. His optics briefly flicked to Sentinel, still on the ground and honestly, grateful to still be in one single piece. He turned away before the anger could return.
"I didn't want to hurt you," He whispered.
You softly scoffed, gently nudging him. This time, without any defensive intent. "You controlled yourself better than I did. I wanted to beat your aft, D-- Megs." You joked, earning a small, bittersweet smile.
You took your servos in his, softly smiling at him. You turned to Optimus, who was just as relieved as you were. "Optimus, do you think Megs and I can help rebuild Iacon? The way it's supposed to be?"
Optimus smiled gently, looking proud. "Of course you can. We all can." He looked at Megatron, his gaze firm but kind. "I am glad to have you back, friend."
Megatron nodded, still tense but..accepting. One day, they'll be as brothers again. You just know it. "As am I." He said, turning to you. His gaze softened. "Y/N...I love you."
"I love you as well, Megs."
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thecherrygod · 2 years ago
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Toxic masculinity is so fucking stupid you see a guy who's clearly in pain and wounded, and you are like "oh to open that door you need to push hard. I can do it for you" because you want to prove you're strong and reliable in front of someone who is, at the time, weaker than you, prove you're the stronger man
But then the wounded guy also has his pride. You tell him all there is to do is push hard? Even with an orthopedic neck on, he won't admit in front of another man he is in need of help. If all he needs to do is show he's still strong besides anything, he will, even if it's in vain, even if he ends up wondering if now his clavicle is broken or maybe misplaced, even if at the end he needs to call a locksmith, he will do the masculine thing first, as much as he can. He just won't allow himself a moment of vulnerability, even if admitting being weak would be the reasonable thing to do, the only viable option seems to be to show you are the strongest, even at your worst
Like. Please. Use your brains and consider the locksmith who you still needed to call anyways bc your lock is broken as your first choice before potentially harming yourself it's not that fucking hard
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luludeluluramblings · 27 days ago
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Neglected!Marine!Reader x Yandere!BatFamily
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: I’ve been holding on to this one. Army Dreamer sent me an ask and this is what came out of it. I know you probably wanted Army, but I just thought Marine cause of an old COD OC I had and this fricken spiraled. I was gonna make it a three part series, but that would take too long and you deserve it now!
A/N: Frick forgot the warnings. My bad!
Warnings: GN!Reader, Yandere themes, bodily injury (to reader), mentions of death
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
You've been living with the Wayne since our mother and step-father died. You've constantly been ignored and belittled by the family. The most common bully being Damian, your younger half-brother. After constant harassments and being called weak by pretty much everyone for years, you sign up for the Marines after a recruiter comes to your high school and gives you and your classmates the selling points.
But, fuck it, you don't care. Gets you away from everyone. And, it's one of the most difficult military branches so an even bigger fuck you to anyone who thinks your weak after this.
It takes two years for you to get somewhere comfortable. You're not flying up the military ladder, but you’re a damn good officer in the METOC moving to South Caroline. And, a 12 hour drive and 2 hour flight from Gotham. Neither which you have ever taken.
You don't bother contact home. You don't bother going home for holidays and Christmas. You send Alfred a card occasionally with some of your other single and lonely military friends in it. Y'all make them really funny too.
It's through these collected and hilarious cards that you get rediscovered. Not by the family, but by the media. Apparently, not only did your silly photos go viral, but your friends damn military tik tok did to.
("Why'd you join the marines?" "It was too dangerous to be a stripper in Gotham." "Why'd you join the marines?” “I have daddy issues and wanted to get yelled at by someone who cared.")
The family which had still been ignoring you or completely forgot you up to that point was absolutely fucking baffled.
Bruce was imediatly calling Kate.
(“Why didn’t you tell me they joined the military?” “I was Air Force. Not in the Marines. How would I have known?”)
Media is now constantly harassing the family because like, “Hey! Your kid disappeared and joined the military, and you said nothing and now they're roasting you online for the entire world to see.
Bruce is making calls. Tim and Barbara are now trying to hack military stuff. Only for your barracks friends to troll the absolute shit outta them and on government computers to boot.
Eventually Stephanie finds out you’ve been sending cards to Wayne manor of you having fun and doing stupid shit with friends. (Things that you should be doing with them, because holy fuck are you funny as shit.) All addressed to Alfred. Bruce asks if you ever sent anything to him, which was a flat no.
Jason is just baffled. This was nothing he expected. You used to be so soft and squishy, now there's videos of you lifting and doing fun shit with friends and you're shooting guns like a badass. So proud of you.
Cassandra is reading everyone's body language, but yours just looks carefree when she sees your videos and photos, she wants to feel like that. She wants you to help her feel like that.
Dick is distraught. You could have join the circus! But the military? Yes, you're a badass now, but still! He's delulu in thinking that you would have wanted to follow in his footsteps. Acting like he wasn't always busy or spending time with Damian.
Duke is just wowed. You joined the military. You DNGF. You are badass without having to wear any hero costume. Cool shit. Top tier.
Stephanie is just amazed. You had all this personality and she had no idea. You were just living your best life without the wight of the family or our father, and holy shit did she want that for herself. Teach her your ways.
Barbara is amazed, too. This was the most normal form of rebellion anyone could do in this family. Yet, no one expected it and you did it. She would have expected you to become a villian or gone rouge, but instead you joined the military. Color her surprised.
Tim is pissed. Everyone wants you back, yet there is no way to get you back. You knowingly or unknowingly made it nearly impossible for them to get you back without the military and government getting involved. He's pissed about the challenge, and now he's obsessing over all your old manerisns and the photos and videos. (He has the cleariest picture of how you really feel, but he doesn't care that it might be broken or negative. He's obsessed all the same.)
Bruce finds out your active duty and freaks the fuck out. Something could happen and you could be deployed and killed. His worst fear is you being killed. It was bad enough when you were in Gotham and fragile. But, now your military and you think you’re strong. But, you’re not and now you could die at any moment.
Damian is shellshocked. You technically proved him wrong. And, he sees the media's reaction to you. Some people are actually praising you for your service. You left and made yourself strong and made a new family. You didn't bother fighting for this one because you didn't think they were worth it. You didn't think he was worth it. It hurts, but not in away that makes him angry. In a way that makes hs insecurities flare. He wants you to come home now, so he can prove to you that he is worthy. That he is sorry.
Getting you home is near impossible. You have a specific roll that you've trained for, and are on active duty. Your a military dog on a leash the bat family cant control.
It's Kate the gives them the horrible idea. If they got you discharged from the military then you would have to come home. The only problem is an honorable discharge would still give you the means to avoid them, while a dishonorable discharge would make you absolutely hate them and they don't want that. (Plus the media would constantly harass you and them.)
So they decide to get you a medical discharge.
But, they can't hack into things and make anything up, though. And, all your physicals and mental check ups were sound. You have a more administrative position, but accidents happen all the time. Bruce has to make a few phone calls, but your active duty gets you sent out into the field. On a military operation that called for your expertise. (His anxiety is spiked through the roof and he has League Members on standby if something goes wrong.)
Kate also made a few phone calls. You ended up being deployed to assist the National Guard near your area. Only while doing your duties, you and your squad trigger a trap and you lose your hearing in your left ear and your left leg is wrecked. A few of your team mates are killed. (Bruce is pissed at Tim, Dick and Jason for that specifically.) Some lost limbs or now have memory problems. Eveyone in the squad is down and out.
You try to support the surviors as you all recover, but as soon as you’re better and given medical discharge the family snags you. Dragging you back to gotham before anyone can say anything. You try to fight, but the loss of hearing messes with you and the still fresh injury makes you weak once more. Plus, there's more of them than you.
When back at the manor, the family uses PTSD as an excuse for the lack of public appearances, and make many donations to VA hospitals and campaigns for retired and injured members of the military. (They even pay for what the military won't cover for your friends and anyone else they injured in the incident. Bruce has some guilt over you getting hurt that he tries to get rid of by doing this.)
Instantly, Stephanie and Dick coddle you. And, an insane amount.
Jason tries to treat you how he did before since he's so awkward and you punch him in the face in return. Not taking that from him anymore. And, he fucking respects you more for it.
Tim ironically enough, begins to emotionally manipulate you with finesse. He's studied you obsessively, yet somehow you’re still surprising him every now and then.
Barbara gives you space, she can tell this has all been a lot and of everyone she probably understands your injury best.
Bruce bounces between trying to coddle you and give you space. Unintentionally treating you like a child.
Cass is just silently there all the time, almost always watching. She can tell you're overwhelmed and pissed, but you’re still so peaceful to her. Not asking her to talk or forcing her away.
Duke is the most chill. Sucks they had to nerf you, but still your fun to hang out with despite the injury. You developed some military humor and it is hilarious.
Damian, avoids you until he finally breaksdown. And it's not pretty. He finally confesses how guilty he feels. That he is sorry. That he actually didn't want to have to hurt you, that he is a terrible brother and a horrible hero. he never shouldve called you weak. (And, you forgive him, because he was a child. And, because out of everyone he's the only one to apologize and confessed to what they did.)
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: I’m typing up like three stories at once, and my ask box is filled. Absolutely slammed. Last time I went on an answer spree I burnt myself out. Hopefully this will hold y’all off while I finish up Smalltown! Part 8, Pregnant! Part 2, and a partial Part 2 to the SugarDaddy Tony thingy. (I don’t know where that came from, but I’m happy y’all liked it. The original man for the SugarDaddy/Older!Husband was Philip Graves. lol)
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venusbyline · 2 months ago
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Taste ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 03, oct.
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— pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fiancée!reader
— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)
— kink: lactation
— summary: Hotch never felt horny seeing a woman breastfeeding. Until he watched his fiancée doing it.
— word count: 2.9k
— tags/warnings: kinktober 3rd day, female!reader, fiance!Hotch, lactation kink, breastfeeding, breast worship, fingering, light overstimulation, mention of Haley's death, Jack has a little sister, canon divergence. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.
— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @magnoliatrees-world @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a
— crossposting: AO3
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Hotch swore to himself that he wouldn't get involved with anyone else after Haley's death. He promised for Jack's sake and his ex-wife's memory, he would try his best to stay away from any woman who could mean more to him than just a few nights of sex or random drinks at a bar. He swore he wouldn't love anyone again, much less allow himself to remarry.
That's until you came into his life.
The damn day he saw you at the hospital after one of his teammates was grazed by a bullet. You were working your shift as a nurse and seemed almost shocked by the number of BAU agents in just one room. But your eyes didn't take long to focus on him. Eye contact only lasted a few seconds until Reid interrupted the magical moment by asking you about the coffee machine not working properly.
Hotch looked straight into your eyes long enough to realize he was fucked up and all his promises were going to go down the drain.
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It didn't take long until the simple memory to invade Hotch's mind frequently and he was convinced to find out more about you, profiling you. Prentiss and Reid said he was starting to obsess, JJ thought it was cute, and Garcia and Morgan made fun of him like he was womanizer. Deep down, everyone was also excited but wary by the idea of Hotch being interested in another woman after Haley's murder. This could be good for him and also traumatize him even more.
When Hotch started visiting a pub that you and your co-workers went to often after work, he tried to maintain an indifferent attitude every time he saw you, trying to convince himself that you two would just flirt and maybe fuck. Nothing more than that, something random and insignificant.
However, during a day when he was reflecting on his life, sitting at one of the empty tables and drinking whiskey, Hotch was surprised to see you sit down with him, without even being invited. A sweet smile on your face as you began to strike up a conversation, even though he was clearly perplexed by the fact that you had already noticed his interest in you — no matter how obvious it was to anyone who saw him always watching you.
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Two years later, Hotch still had difficulty admitting how much he loved you, feeling like it could be a weakness to him and a danger to Jack, you and his new child. The baby named after the protagonist of The Silence of the Lambs.
"Jack told me that Clarice was crying a lot today..." He said as soon as he came your room after putting Jack to bed, admiring you sitting on the double bed with some pillows behind your back, cradling the little thing in your hands while you breastfed her at the same time.
"Oh, it was just colic." You gave him a soft smile. "But she's better for now. Jack's such a good big brother to Clarice, he helps me a lot to take care of her."
Hotch smiled slightly, knowing how much his oldest son was enjoying having a little sister. Jack was such a sweet boy that sometimes he found himself wondering if he really deserved to be his father.
Jack was an incredible son with an incredible mother. And now Hotch also had an amazing little daughter and an amazing fiancée. With each passing day, insecurities and fears hit his mind hard to the point that he even became lost in thoughts during his own work at the BAU. "What's wrong, Hotch?"
Your question caught him off guard and he clenched his jaw. You could still read him as well as the first time you spoke to him in the pub. "Nothing's wrong."
You rolled your eyes, cradling Clarice a little more slowly now that she seemed to be starting to sleep. "Oh, please. I know you very well at that. It's pretty clear from your frown that you're worried about something." You teased him and it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Just tell me. Keeping everything to yourself will make you explode someday."
Hotch huffed, always hating the idea of opening himself up to anyone, even if you were his fiancée. On the one hand, he wanted to keep you in the dark about the vulnerability he was trying to hide, protecting himself from any judgment or see a look of pity on your face. But on the other hand, he just wanted to not pretend to be strong and invincible for at least a few minutes.
"I'm just thinking about some things, that's all..." He swallowed, the trembling voice exposing him more than his words.
You frowned, caressing Clarice's thinning hair before looking at Hotch. "Well... I'd like you to tell me at least one of them."
Hotch snorted again, but the attempt at indifference failed miserably when he looked at Clarice, still feeding on your breast. "She's looking more like you every day." He smiled, articulating his right index finger so he could caress her chubby cheek with his middle knuckles.
You smiled at Hotch, before raising an eyebrow when you noticed his gaze straying to your breast for a considerably long time. "That's very disrespectful, you know? I can't even breastfeed my own baby without you being a pervert?"
His eyes widened, immediately stopping and looking at you embarrassed to explain, sighing with a little frustration when he noticed that you were just playing with him. "Damn, angel..." He rubbed his face to hide his frightened expression, but also to distract himself from that unusual thoughts. "For a second I thought you were angry."
You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Why would I be angry seeing my fiance horny?"
Your teasing made his face turn red and his cock started to feel tight in his work pants. "I'm not...I'm not horny. This is ridiculous. You're just breastfeeding."
His effort to look uninterested by the sight made you laugh again, as you looked at him with your eyebrow still raised. After a few seconds, you checked if the baby was already sleeping enough so you could burp her and go put her in the crib. Then you fixed your nursing bra and turned to Hotch with a playful smirk. "I'll be back in ten minutes."
Your words weren't a random joke, much less a common warning. You were flirting with him, teasing him, warning him that the matter wasn't over and you would come back to learn more about that curiosity that was burning his brain. He watched you leave with Clarice in your arms and go to her room.
Hotch sat down on the bed, the tie starting to tighten around his neck just as his cock was already hurting from being trapped in those damn underwear. He untied the bow with a little more agony than usual, taking a deep breath as he threw the fabric anywhere on the floor. He wasn't worried about organization for now, focused on trying to understand why he was suddenly so turned on.
Okay... He had seen your breast, something he clearly loved to admire at any time possible. But he never got horny seeing you breastfeeding his daughter. Just as he never got horny when Haley was breastfeeding Jack too. In truth, Hotch had never thought of breastfeeding as something rousing and erotic to watch.
Until those few minutes before.
"There... She's sleeping like a little angel." Hotch almost jumped at the sound of your sweet voice returning to the room, locking the door behind you.
Hotch cleared his throat, pretending not to know exactly why you locked the door. It was a rule not to lock the door at night for the children's safety in case something horrible happened. You only did this when both of you wanted a moment alone. "Well, it took you less than ten minutes."
You shrugged nonchalantly. "She went back to sleep quickly."
He nodded silently, placing his hand in his own lap so you wouldn't see his boner growing more and more, even though he knew you had already noticed it since you returned to the room.
"Lactation kink is more common than it seems." You said and Hotch almost choked due your blunt way.
"What? Where did you get that from? I don't... I don't have a lactation kink. That doesn't even make sense." He exclaimed, his frowning face turning red for a second time as he tried to press down on his boner to hide yet another twinge he felt.
You held back your chuckle, but not for long. The moment you sat on the bed next to him and watched how the grumpy man was struggling to hide his desire, you let out a brief giggle, but it was enough to hurt his ego. "That's not funny."
Despite everything, you nodded, not wanting to upset him further. The realization that perhaps this was the first time he could be feeling that specific kind of desire hit you hard, and you felt a mixture of pride with yourself, but also a huge excitement that you hadn't felt since the pregnancy.
"I know, baby..." You reassured him, smiling slightly at him now. "But you don't need to hide from me either. We agree not to keep secrets from each other."
Your sentence had more than one meaning and Hotch knew it. He shouldn't lie to you, either about his own fears or about what he was wanting at that moment.
Hotch took a deep breath, deciding to start slowly. "Maybe... Maybe I'm horny."
"Seeing me breastfeeding?" You asked to be sure, but without any hint of judgment.
He nodded, clenching his jaw as he looked away, before holding his breath when he felt your hand caressing his thigh through his dress pants. "Hey... Look at me, Aaron."
Almost a minute passed before he worked up enough courage to look into your eyes. He felt pathetic inside. How could he deal with criminals every day, but not be able to receive a touch on his thigh from you without feeling like a stupid teenage virgin?
"Do you wanna... Taste it?" Your suggestion made his dark eyes widen as if you were saying the most unexpected thing he'd ever heard. "I'm serious, Aaron."
"Taste your milk?" He frowned. However, you knew he wasn't offended, but rather embarrassed with himself for even considering that. Everything was driving him crazy... the memory of you breastfeeding, his vivid imagination, your hand remaining caressing his thigh. Aaron felt like he was going to explode. "Hmm... Maybe."
You smiled when he gave in a little, knowing that his lust was speaking louder than any self-loathing he was feeling. Without waiting for him to think better and maybe change his mind, you adjusted your body on the bed, leaning your back against the headboard, while your legs were stretched out and comfortable. You smirked, pointing to the other pillow, indicating to him to get comfortable too.
Your command made his cock throb. As he obeyed, lying down in place, he felt a sigh of pleasure escape when he realized how much closer your bust was to his face in that position.
"It's a good view..." He muttered, fighting his pride.
You bit your bottom lip. "Oh, really?" You took your hands to your bra, removing it completely and watching Hotch's breathing hitch. "And now?"
"Angel... You're such a tease." He watched your breast for a few minutes, feeling his mouth water with the uncontrollable need to taste you like that. He moved his large hand to one of your mounds, biting his lip as he gently squeezed the soft flesh, barely holding back the groan that escaped by a strangled way when some milk splashed on his shirt "Fuck..."
You couldn't help but whine too. The feeling of his slender fingers groping your breast had been great, but it was the hunger in his eyes when your breast milk splashed out that made you start to feel desperate. "A-Aaron... I want you. I want your mouth."
"Oh, do you want my mouth, angel?" He scoffed, going back to caressing your breast, but now with one hand on each one. "And where do you want my mouth? Here?" Hotch questioned teasingly and leaned in, brushing his lips against the skin of your neck, feeling you shudder when he licked it and grazed his teeth afterwards.
He waited for your answer, but you just shook your head. It was good, of course. However, it was far from what you really wanted.
"Oh, no?" He feigned surprise, looking into your eyes now desperate for more. Hotch then smirked and stood up enough for you to be face to face. He moistened his lips, noticing the way your gaze fell there immediately. "Here, maybe?" Hotch teased, capturing your mouth in a slow but intense kiss. He tasted your lips as if they were heaven, delighting with the pleasure of dipping his tongue into your mouth and feeling your tongue too.
Then you moved your face away, panting for air. "No. More..." You whispered, lips red and swollen from the kiss.
He laughed lightly. "More? You're so greedy, baby..." Hotch scoffed, thinking about stopping the teasing, but an idea popped into his head, lowering his face until he was close to your breasts again. One of his hands kept caressing one of them, his long fingers playing with your nipple wet with milk.
However, his right hand let go of your left breast, making you whimper with confusion. "Why did you stop? You're so fucking... Oh!" You moaned, your eyes widening when his fingers got into your panties. "H-Hotch..."
Your moans made Hotch smirked, as he rubbed your clit slowly, enjoying how wet your pussy already was. "Is this where you want my mouth, baby?" He said, rubbing a little slower to get some verbal reaction from you.
"Not yet... Not yet." You managed to whisper as he slowed down, afraid he would completely stop rubbing your needy bud.
Hotch scoffed. "Wow, my future wife's a spoiled and needy little whore...." He went back to interspersing the movements of the hand that pleasured your pussy with the hand that caressed your heavy breast. "How about here then?" He blew lightly on your left nipple that was without his attention. "What do you think, angel?"
You almost whimpered at that teasing. It was obvious what you wanted and it was obvious Hotch was desperate for it too. Meanwhile, Hotch liked to hear you ask him. Beg him.
"Y-yes, please..." You pouted sadly as he chuckle, finally bringing his mouth, licking the sensitive nipple and making you moan his name, his soft tongue tasting the light drops of milk that flowed through contact. "S-suck... Please, Aaron, I need you to suck my milk."
Hotch lifted his face to look at you, doing as you asked. His mouth closed carefully around your nipple, making a gentle sucking motion, his eyes widening as much as you did when a favorable amount of milk came on his tongue, making him swallow with surprise before keeping sucking.
You felt the movements of his hands faltering, his mind going into a frenzy as he heard you moaning desperately each time he sucked you like a hungry baby. Your entire body had been needy since giving birth, but your breasts... They had become a powerful and fragile little thing at the same time. They were always sensitive due to continuous breastfeeding. Hotch had never given you pleasure there since Clarice was born, too busy taking care of you two and Jack, in addition to always having his mind stuck on work. Besides, neither of you have had much time since then.
However, you knew it wasn't just because your breasts were sensitive or the fact that both of you had been deprived of sex for a while. It was the incredible feeling of having Hotch suckle on your milk, seeing him desperate for every drop.
When he closed his eyes to focus on sucking and enjoy the slightly sweet taste of breast milk even more, you began to tremble your orgasm getting closer. His fingers kept rubbing your clit while the other fingers played with your free nipple, but it was the sight of him with his eyes closed and sucking your milk that made you cum, moaning his name breathlessly and wetting his fingers with your release.
Hotch smirked as he noticed the real reason for your orgasm. He opened his eyes, nibbling on the tip of your breast and stopping fingering you so as not to prolong your overstimulation too much after you whimpered in slight discomfort when it all started to get too much. "That was more amazing than I imagined it would be." He murmured, tongue still busy licking you.
“Too amazing, actually…” You teased, moving his lips away from your nipple. "You better save some drops for Clarice."
He chuckled at your joke, feeling you run your hand over his chin, wiping away the drops of milk that had run down, gently licking your own fingers.
"Thanks for not judging me, angel."
The sweet words made you smile, and you stroked his hair tenderly. "I would never do that." Your gaze dropped to his boner, even bigger than before. "And I'll help you with that if you promise to tell me about what was plaguing your mind earlier."
Hotch rolled his eyes sarcastically, looking at you with a frown and a small smile on his face. "Okay... That's a sacrifice I'm willing to make then. But just this once."
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Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist
HOTD Edition - Masterlist
Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist
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quimichi · 9 months ago
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₊❏❜ ⋮ MEETING THEIR FAMILIES -HEARTSLABYUL VER.
warnings: bad treatment towards reader (Riddles part), bad writing :3
summary: You meet their families
characters: Heartslabyul x F!Reader
word count:
a/n: I originally planned to do all in one part but I decided not to since it's so so much and I'm currently having a writers block but I wanna make you guys happy so-its in parts :(
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Riddle
Riddle's mother is a strict woman, and she does not hide her dislike for you. She frowns the moment she sees you and crosses her arms. The situation is tense as she watches you, her gaze sharp and unblinking. She seems to be considering your motives with her son, but it is clear that she has a low opinion of you for some reason.
Riddle is nothing compared to her; he has no power, he's weak standing beside you. Yet, he stands proud, he loves you and no matter what his mother will say, his mind won't change. "Mother," he begins. She shoots a hard look at him. With that stare, she seems to say 'do. not. talk."
Riddle goes silent. He knows that if he does talk, it might ruin her approval...if that will ever happen. But you decided to speak up, nervously, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you! Riddle has told me so many lovely things of you!" you bow down, showcasing your respect. His mother's expression does not change. She seems to consider you for a while before speaking:
"Do you think yourself worthy of my son? Do you think you are a good match for him?"
It's clear that she is sizing you up, and her gaze is piercing.
"Yes." Riddle grabs your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. Showing you his support, no matter what he won't back out either, cause he knows whats coming. Your words only draw a frown from his mother. Her expression turns sour.
"I do not think you can give my son the life he deserves. You are too low class for a nobleman. It is clear why you would date him, but what do you have to offer us? It would disgrace his name and our family to wed a commoner. A magicless commoner!" She continues to size you up. She is relentless. Her frown only hardens with every passing moment.
"My son is a nobleman. He deserves a woman of nobility. Riddle dear, I know the perfect girl for you she-" "No!" His voice rings through the halls with booming thunder.
"How dare you," he shouts, his eyes like daggers. He looks as though every muscle is about to tense up so hard it'll burst. "She is good enough. She is worthy of my love. There is no one in this world who I will ever love and admire more! If you don't agree with this relationship then-!...Then I might just leave.
Riddle is standing protectively in front of you now. His heart is thrumming so hard he can feel each pulse. His last words were spoken unsure, timidly, but it's the truth.
"...Then do."
Trey
Trey's parents are thrilled to meet you. The moment they saw you at their doorstep, they took you into their family. They are gracious hosts, offering you food and drinks as soon as you step into the house. Everything is warm and welcoming. Not to mention the cake they baked for you!
The afternoon tea goes smoothly, with conversation flowing as easily as a river. "Again, thank you so much for the tea and cake! It was absolutely delicious!" "It was nothing," Trey's mother says as she refills your mug. She smiles warmly, keeping herself composed with effort. She has heard a lot about you, after all, and the impression she has received so far has been wonderful. Its hard for her to contain her pure excitement, she might explode. All her husband can do is calm her down with a hand on her shoulder, smiling both at you and his wife.
Trey doesn't dare say anything, his lips pressed shut in a smile as he watches from his place. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, content to watch you and his parents interact.
"BROTHER!" You hear two voices yell from the hallway...seems his siblings arrived from school. Trey's young siblings finally make their grand entrance, their voices filling the room with an unexpected cacophony of excitement and joy. The scene is a chaotic one, but in a good way.
His younger brother runs up to you immediately, "Oh-Oh-! You're the pretty girl-!" Before you can question anything his sister also tunes in, "Ohhh-! She really does look as sweet as gum drops-!" "You two, shush immediately-! I'm so sorry-!" Trey's mother apologizes for the behavior of her youngest children, but you shake it off. How could you ever be upset about the honesty of those sweethearts. You definitely will have a word with Trey once you get back...
Cater
Cater never kept it a secret, how much he despises his sisters and mother sometimes. More than once he told you stories. But he has also told you that slowly, the relationship gets better...slowly.
Cater's mother is especially overbearing. She tries her best, but she seems almost incapable of not adding only their favorite sweets to the tablem. She is a bundle of nerves, and she often dotes on Cater. It's as if she finds comfort in treating him like a child, because he is so quiet and calm. Yeah, quite and calm, if only they knew who he truly was.
"Thank you so much for having me." a genuine smile sets on your lips as she pours tea into your cup. "We are so glad to have you," Cater's mother says with genuine warmth.
His sisters continue to prod you in both questions and comments, being too forceful and tactless at times. They think they're being endearing and curious, but don't quite realize that they're over stepping. Cater sits beside you, his eyes darting back and forth as the questions keep flowing. Hes annoyed, of course they will ask inappropriate questions and take the attention.
"Where was the first kiss?" "Ohhh my god did he use his tounge?" "Cater, your hair today looks frizzy." "You look cute but...that top with those jeans...i don't know. Cater you should really watch what your girlfriend wears!" "Yeah! Spend some money on her, damn." "Bad boyfriend."
The constant barrage of questions and comments from his sisters would make even the most stoic people wither. You are not one of those people - you are more patient than you ever realized. You smile through the barrage of words, answering most that you can, ignoring the rest. It hurts, some hurt. You get Cater now to 100%. Your calm demeanor and soft eyes would calm anyone's heart, but his sisters are a bit too persistent, their endless questioning seeming to have no end.
This goes on for some time, until Cater is visibly agitated. "Stop," he says under his breath. He is usually calm and collected, so it draws everyone's attention, even his mother's. "What?" One of his sisters finally asks, feigning innocence.
"Enough," he says simply, but his tone is enough to get them to back off.
He takes a few breaths before giving his mother and sisters a smile. The situation diffuses, but you can sense that he is annoyed. "I just wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend, we didnt came here for an interview. Her outfit is perfect, and I'm NOT a bad boyfriend! I know I'm not..."
Ace
Ace's older brother is charming, witty, and well-liked by everyone. He teases his little brother without any cruelty, making lighthearted jokes at his expense. He is very protective of Ace, he just wants his little brother to be happy. And obviously he wants him to behave in this relationship too.
"He has spoken of you a lot," the older brother comments, his tone teasing. His brother wiggles his eyebrows towards him,  "A bit too much, it seems," Ace says, keeping his voice low, but you hear the annoyance.
"I can't help but hear all about you whenever he's calling me... how much he cares for you, how he's so lucky to have you..." his brother's tone is good-natured. He's just having fun, and hes so glad his brother found true happiness. "Ohh, what else did you say?" Ace can hear the teasing in your voice, no way you're going into this too. "Shut up-!" "Oh, you know," the older brother laughs. "He says you are the sweetest, most beautiful being in the whole wide world. You're an angle with the patience you have for him. He would do anything for you without a second thought. He swears he has never loved another as he has you."
"What a mushy little guy my brother can be," his older brother says, sounding amused.
Ace is turning red. His voice comes out slightly strained, cracking. "I-! I NEVER-! Shut up I never said anything like that, that's way to sappy!" "Mhmmmm, sure bro, sure" His older brother smiles, genuinely.
"I've never seen him so happy," he says, "He's truly a good guy, he just has some rough edges. I'm glad someone like you took their time to get to know him...Take care of him for me."
Deuce
His mother beams. "Oh! This is the one you've been telling me about? You've done well. She is a beauty!"
Deuce's face is tomato red. He is the picture of nervousness, his eyes darting about the room with his mouth clamped shut for fear that he will say too much or too little. His mother's enthusiastic and effusive approach is overwhelming him. He wants to sink into the floor, damning himself for telling his mother and grandmother about you so much. "We are so delighted to have you here. Please," his mother continues, offering you her seat. "Sit, sit! No need to stand around!"
She smiles widely at you as she gestures to a plush chair across from them. A low table separates you, and the three of you are arranged across from one another. Deuce's grandmother walks slowly behind his mother, bearing a tray of tea and pastries in her hands. Without a word, she sits down and quietly offers one of the small cakes to you.
She doesn't take her eyes away from you, smiling wide. You can't help but smile back at her, but before you can thank her she leans closer to Deuce mother. "Perfect aren't they? I knew someone wil eventually see that our Deuce is a catch." She wasn't as discreet as she thought she was, but you can only agree with her, Deuce is a catch.
"Thank you so much-!" "It's nothing, dear," she says, her voice soft as velvet. His mother breaks the silence, leaning forward in her seat. "Now then, tell us all about yourselves. We have heard plenty from our son, but we want to hear from you."
Deuce is paralyzed. He has nothing ready to say. His mouth is dry and his heart is pounding in his chest. Although he is more than happy both his most loved family members love you, he is still nervous. It's embarrassing! "Wait-!" His grandmother immediately stands up from her seat. She disappears and reappears with a thick photo album. She settles back down and opens it.
"Now, let me show you my handsome boy when he was young. I think this is a much better idea!"
Deuce's head falls back, someone kill him. His heart stops at the pictures of himself....fuck...he's naked....
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wolken-himmel · 1 year ago
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In which Floyd's transformation potion wears off, causing him to be stuck in his eel-merman form in a large tank.
Now (Y/n) has to entertain him.
Request by anon.
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You had always admired the Mostro Lounge's interior design. Large tanks that lined the walls, some that connected to the vast ocean outside the building and allowed little fish and other creatures to pass through. You used to spend a lot of time watching all these adorable and innocent creatures swim past the glass facade. But now, all of them had been chased away by a vicious predator.
Floyd.
You exhaled and watched as he terrorised the last remaining guppies until they fled the tank. The large eel-merman was left alone in the tank, now bored out of his mind. There were no more little fish to torment. So he turned to you, who stood outside the tank and watched him swim around. He flashed his teeth at you, you poor little fish.
"Shrimpy!" he cried out once his head penetrated the surface of the tank. His arms were resting on the upper edge of the tank, the water from his skin dripping to the ground. He shot you a sly smile. "Come a little closer. I don't bite."
You wrapped your arms around yourself, making sure your blazer was still dry. Despite his pressing gaze, you didn't move a centimetre. "I don't wanna get wet. You splashed Azul when he gave you your lunch earlier."
Floyd let out a groan at your reply. "Shrimpy, don't be such a guppy!"
His words caused you to quirk an eyebrow. "I'm not a guppy. I have good reasons not to trust you," you said, a tad bit of playfulness lingering in your voice. You chortled softly, knowing better than to come closer to him.
"What?! I'm as innocent as those little spikeballs from the Heartslabyul garden, the ones you like to cuddle! I deserve appreciation too, don't I?" the merman whined, as if your words had offended him. He pulled his arms away from the ledge of the tank and sank to the bottom of the tank, so he could face you properly. His long tail curled around the floor as he glared at you, the glass wall being the only thing separating you two.
You shrugged softly. "Who says you won't pull me into that tank if I get closer."
"I would never. I swear on Jade."
His words drew loud laughter from your lips. You almost doubled over from how intense the wheezes were that shook your body. "You'd swear on your own brother?" you asked and held your stomach in pain. As your laughter faded out into chuckles, you gazed around the empty Mostro Lounge. "I hope he didn't hear that..."
Floyd chuckled along, but his laughter quickly turned into grumbles of annoyance again. "Come on, Shrimpy. I'm bored!" he complained again and swam circles in his tank. It was large enough to allow for vast movement, but it was empty of any entertainment. "I wanna walk again, poke your side and annoy you."
You chuckled and crossed your arms. "Yeah, you're a real menace. Maybe it's good you're stuck in that tank for a few hours," you teased him. Unable to help yourself, you stuck your tongue out at him.
Floyd clutched his chest dramatically and sank to the bottom of the tank, where he remained motionlessly. "Shrimpy, you're so mean to me..."
Laughter spilled from your lips, and you couldn't help but tap your finger nail against the glass wall. "Stop it, Floyd. You're so dramatic."
"You're breaking my heart..." the eel-merman whined before regaining life again. At the speed of light, he shot up from the ground of the tank and zoomed off into a dark corner.
You brought your face closer to the glass, your eyes scanning the vast tank. The back was littered with large stones and tall kelp plants. Even though his tail was long, he somehow managed to easily hide amongst the flora of the tank. A worried feeling made itself apparent in your stomach. "Floyd? Where are you? Come out again," you yelled out nervously.
Did your playful banter go too far? Did you actually manage to insult him.
Your head began to spin with thoughts of how hurt he must feel. Feeling awful, you desperately searched for any sign of life from him. But your eyes never managed to see past the plants and rocks in the tank. He was nowhere to be found.
With each passing minute of your fruitless search, guilt and dread weighed down your conscience. You began to feel bad about what you had said to him. Any attempt of calling out to him was met with awful silence. With Floyd gone, the empty Mostro Lounge became eerie and lifeless.
Your guilt got the better of you, and you climbed up the ladder that led to the upper ledge of the tank. Your eyes scanned the crystal clear water, but even from up there, you couldn't manage to find him amongst the kelp. With your hands tightly gripping onto the ledge, you leaned over the tank.
"Floyd... I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said," you murmured softly. "Please come out again. I'm worried about you..."
You're met with silence again. He still seemed too hurt to reply you. Or that's what you thought at least. With all the feelings of guilt that plagued you, you didn't notice the threatening shadow that approached you from below. Your torse continued to lean over the ledge, desperately trying to find your friend in the tank.
That was until a webbed hand shot out from the water and grabbed your arm. A scream escaped your lips as you were pulled into the tank with ease. Your body toppled over the ledge and plunged into the water. Strong limbs and an even stronger tail constricted most of your panicked movement.
Your clothes felt heavy and your eyes burnt as you were finally able to open them. You came face to face with a mischievously grinning Floyd. He held you tightly, but making sure your head remained above the water. An unsettling giggle escaped his lips. "I never was mad at you. I just needed you to feel guilty and come closer to the tank so I could pull you in."
You glared at him, but your anger was only half-hearted. "You sly eel..."
Your struggling is met with carefree laughter from his side. "That's what we're known as. Smart, sly and slippery!" he exclaimed smugly and swam around the tank with you. A bright smile was plastered onto his face, akin to that of a child that had just received a present.
"I should have known this was just another one of your ploys," you murmured in dismay.
Floyd pressed you against him until you could only wheeze out your complaints. "You're like a rubber duck! So easily squeezable and cute," he cooed playfully.
"Hey, let me go!" you cried out with red cheeks.
His laughter turned louder, until it filled the entirety of the Mostro Lounge. "Sorry, no can do, Shrimpy. You're my little rubber ducky until I get my transformation potion."
"Azul! Hurry up with the potion!" you yelled out at the top of your lungs.
Before you could say more, Floyd pulled you underwater to shut you up. After a few seconds of having his fun, he pulled you up again. A giggle escaped his lips at your disoriented state. He merely soothed your strangled whines by pulling you closer, his arms circling around your waist.
An eerie smile decorated his face as he patted your head. "Oh, he can take his time. I don't mind...."
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rubyvhs · 2 months ago
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—✧ you’re jensen ackles’ non-famous girlfriend
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liked by jensenackles and others
yourusername I think we got drunk
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urbsfusername think?
yourusername you live and you learn
unifriend what the actual fuck you met jensen ackles?
uniclassmate bro jensen fucking ackles just liked your post
yourusername has privated her account !
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liked by hilarieburton and others
yourusername thank you for a great night, hilarie (I tried getting jen to stay in the white but i could only do so much)
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jensenackles not my color
randomacc every color is your color
unifriend i can’t believe you know jensen ackles bro how did you even meet??
urbsfusername all white party? wowow
yourusername taking you instead next time, you probably won’t change into a flannel by the end of the night @/jensenackles
jensenackles it wasn’t a flannel🙄
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liked by jaredpadalecki and others
yourusername beach day with my fav people + @/urbsfusername
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jensenackles where did all of of these come from… had the best time honey❤️
yourusername we can thank her for that, she’s been taking pics of us the entire trip, but I’d say you did pretty well with the pic of me and her
urbsfusername best trip ever
yourusername tell me about it
randomacc what the fuck is happening!!! where are the gossip sites and why are they not giving us answers
unifriend you guys are so cute
yourusername thanks babe💋
otherbsf this is why you ditched this weekend🙄
yourusername would’ve asked you to come but you wouldn’t miss that party for a funeral
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liked by yourusername and others
jensenackles a sample of our beach day with @/jaredpadalecki and @/genpadalecki ❤️
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randomuser absolutely no fucking way jensen is seeing someone
jacklesfan we just lost our most prized possession what the hell
urbsfusername y’all are the sweetest!
—liked by jensenackles
jaredpadalecki best way to end season 12, glad to see you happy, brother
—liked by jensenackles
randomacc no cause wtf does ‘happy’ mean?? who is he dating bro
realjacklesfan jared’s married with kids, about time jensen got the happy ending he deserves.
usertwo we don’t know if they’re even that serious.
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liked by yourusername and others
jensenackles happy birthday to the most creative and fun person out there @/yourusername, i don’t know what my life would be like without you but i’m glad we get to spend what’s rest of it together, love you❤️
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randomacc bitch why did she actually turn out pretty ugh
yourusername no other way i’d rather spend my birthday, love you so much!
—liked by jensenackles
jaredpadalecki happy birthday @/yourusername, no one deserves a good day more than you
yourusername thanks jay, miss you guys a lot
jacklesfan we get to see her!!!! aaaaa! she’s so cute, you guys are so great together
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genuinely the most fun thing over ever done, let me know if u like it cause jared padalecki, you’re next! & if u wanna be tagged.
the usernames:
uni friend
uni classmate
jackles fan
real jackles fan
random account
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