#they are like the final pieces of a puzzle i think. i love them a lot tbh

[ghostnotoast]

I'm having withdrawal symptoms from waiting for the new episode to come out, and this has been buzzing around my head since this part came out (also I wanna talk about my wife Lily)

Relistening to this part twice made me cry I'm not even gonna lie but weirdly enough it made me think of the end of season 1 where John gets a taste of being the king for a split second but then chooses to go back to Arthur. After he returns, he says:

"But it was in that time in the hospital, that month alone. Trapped in this body without you, when something changed"

"I found meaning. I found that the challenges of life within the boundaries of death were not only acceptable, but could be meaningful. That without a purpose I could forge my own. Is that humanity?"

Don't get me wrong, I don't think it was Lily who was fully responsible for giving John humanity - if anything, that's the mistake Arthur makes in season 3 when comparing John to Yellow (which John calls him out for). It was Arthur who laid out the pieces, and Lily was basically the one to make it click.

Buttt I think reducing John's reason for humanity to only one thing is almost a disservice- because developing a sense of self is so much more complex than that.

It was Arthur's love, it was the stories and thoughts he would share with John, it was being in awe of seeing trees and nature again after so long of living in the dark, it was hearing music, it was listening to the radio, it was the joy he felt after they complished something and he was finally able to feel something other than fear, it was seeing the wraith help them, it was holding a cute baby and picturing her future as a pianist, it was seeing her mother and recognising that she had just lost something priceless, it was having to hold onto hope that anyone is capable of redemption, it was defending and having empathy for the widow despite what Arthur had said.

The last moment is paralleled in season 3 with their conversation about Yellow. Listening to all these makes me realise just how much Yellow missed out on.

Arthur no doubt played a massive role in helping John find humanity and meaning, but honesty? I don't know if purely being with Arthur is what made John who he is. John himself has a conscious and had to make decisions on his own and, on multiple occasions, fights Arthur about ideology with basically little to no outside influence (e.g, their infamous first divorce).

Despite all that though, I still do think Arthur was one of the biggest reasons, I mean just look at Yellow 😭 I'll write an entire essay about him one day

But this entire yap session was basically me trying to imagine what exactly was so special about that month at the hospital because let's be real if I were John I would go crazy BUT sometimes i just imagine John being there, in a hospital without Arthur, being able to do nothing but think

He thinks about the bright clear blue sky he saw, a bird that landed on the windowsill when they were at the library, he thinks about how alive this world is compared to where he came from, he thinks about the radio that's playing, he thinks about the piano, and then he thinks about Arthur

And I imagine he looks at Lily, at her tending to them, at her chatting to them, at her turning on the radio for them so they're not bored and even though people would call all these extra bits of care pointless - she does it anyway, and she does it for them, and John is there to witness this, and that's the moment where it clicks.

I imagine it sort of being like being moved back to see a finished puzzle and finally understanding what you've been making this entire time after spending so long up close looking at individual pieces

And I think that's what the witch didn't understand about John's story. Lily's care was the climax of John becoming John, and even though John acknowledges that for her it was probably another Tuesday - it still doesn't dampen the fondness and love he has for her, he just loves for the sake of it

[sysig]

Dr. “Has to get a good grade in therapy” Doran (Patreon)

[jrueships]

can you please walk us through the relationship between wemby and jabari the people need to know

i think the most notable thing about vic and Jabari's relationship is that they don't have one, when it would be so beneficial if they did. they're like two soldiers fighting for the opposite sides of a war, too loyal to the cause to stop and think about what could have been if they just lowered their respective weapons aimed by cold hands larger than their own. foils by fate, friends by freedom.

' remember, you will Always be Different. '

' remember, you will Always be Replaceable. '

'Replaceable'

Jabari's dad made it in the NBA, then didn't. He was a big that could shoot, but wasn't a post-up man. Back then, post-up was the desired style. Ironically, now, it's all about shooting. But his dad didn't live in the now, and his career in the US was short-lived, to keep it cordial. Jabari's older brother played basketball throughout his whole life, but stopped after college. Jabari's cousin, Kwame Brown, was drafted 1st overall in the lottery, and became a notorious bust for the Washington wizards.

Basketball is a business. Basketball is fleeting.

It doesn't matter that a big with sharpshooter skills is valued as something so 'prized' in today's nba, not back then, not when it would have mattered for Jabari's dad. Making it is one ballpark in its own, but Staying in it? Can perhaps be an even more painful ordeal when the hoops to accomplish it aren't circus hoops, but a plain hill some just don't have the strength, mentality, or the materials to help climb without distraction or pitfall.

Jabari's dad made sure Jabari had this threat forever ingrained in his mind. When he yells at Jabari for misplaced eye contact, for typing the wrong words in a public social media reply, for reacting in a way a camera might misinterpret, it's out of love. Jabari's dad was known for being a hassle to coach back then, maybe because he knew his potential and no one else did because it was too new to the mold. So he makes sure Jabari doesn't follow his same habits. Jabari is polite to authority, simply replies with a 'Yes Sir' or a 'No Ma'am', he holds eye contact, he wakes up hours before he needs to just to jump rope, just to uphold the standards that his family could not. He is Everything his father is and isn't, plus more. When his team wins, he's still talking about his missed freethrows even 8 hours later. Because someone else could have won the game And hit those free throws too . someone from a family that gained success and stayed in that success. Someone who wasn't Just Another Son of a basketball player trying to do what his father couldn't, someone who was Different .

Everyone knew wemby was different. When his literature class was asked to write an essay about your future dreams in life, he wrote a fictional romance about a couple where the woman got in a car accident and was comatosed as a result, but got better in the end. He didn't write about being a great basketball player one day, because his parents don't pressure him to hunker himself into the norm, even though his mother once was and now coaches. If Wemby one day realized this wasn't for him, they would encourage him to leave and follow whatever greater passions propelling him. He's so agile for his size because his dad was an Olympic talent in track and field. He is someone who has hobbies and talents that are considered common alone, but strange combined, because he loves what he has and what he does. He reads every night for one hour before bed not to appear as some pseudointellectual, but because he Genuinely loves it, and when he loves something, he excels at it. He does try to be different, but not out of ego. He just loves to be. He either accomplishes at 200% or zero. It may be 200% in an unexpected direction, but it's His direction and that's what matters. If he somehow does wind up a bust, a possibility he considers without fear but acceptance as potential fate, then he won't go down as yet another failed first pick. He'll fall as he flew, Victor Wembanyama.

' Different '

' Replaceable'

Jabari winces each time he's subbed out, even for a second, even on an injured ankle, he's silently Stubborn, his posture shrunken and his gaze at the ground yet his eyes, big, wobbling, staring up always at the speaker, he's silently scared.

Jabari doesn't Want to be different. He just wants to be what his family couldn't be when it came to fame: irreplaceable . His parents split when he was younger, he tries his hardest to appease them both as to not cause any more issues. The relationship relies on his shoulders more than ever, and he can't fumble it again. He has to be what his dad couldn't so his dad can stay, commenting on commonality or surprises. He wants to support his still working mother, especially after the split. He doesn't Want to be unique, he just wants Security.

Because this can crumble any moment now, it doesn't matter how high your pick was or how bright the future Could Have been or how the game would later shift to your style if you had just somehow Stayed. Why bet on low chances if you know you can't handle the risk. He shakes any college coaches' hands that showed up to his practices, personally thanks them for coming even though he's one of the best in the country so their presence should be a given to him, it's not. When he picks a college, he picks one that guaranteed their faith in him from day One, and didn't require any further prodding to finally say '.. Maybe we'll offer you a position' like Kentucky did, as big and famous as it is, it wasn't Secured . They saw him as a risk at one point, and that's everything he's been trying to avoid when it came to attention, negatively standing out.

Jabari wants to be known as the strong shoulder to the world. He WANTS to be known as That One Guy who can just carry everything, nameless but Good. He just wants to be Good. Please tell him he's good. Please tell him what he's doing is Good. That basing his entire personality around yet another soldier who ultimately fell in battle but fought nonetheless being nameless is Good. Please feel free to give him all your burdens to bear like he's just some mule, an animal, a Tool .. because that means he's Useful, at least. That means he's Good. And if he isn't good, then he's nothing. Because you can always just buy another one anyways. A better one.

'Different'

Although his parents try not to treat Wemby by simplifying his differences into a strictly labeled, simple FUTURE BASKETBALL PRODIGY box at birth, that doesn't mean that can always stop others from doing it. Wemby signed his first autograph at ten years old.

It didn't matter if he was a kid who was so much more than just his basketball future, basketball fans wanted one thing from him and one thing only: Success. People didn't care about his literary skills or his drawing hobbies. The eyes on his alien needed to be smaller 'so your shoe can sell better, trust us, it's still Your drawing.. your weird little .. not money-making hobby, do believe me, Vic, We know what We're doing. You just stick to whatever you do.'

His differences, in the end, are minimalized just to that. He's just Different. That's what everyone says who wouldn't really care to say anything at all if he never hooped as well as they wanted in the first place. The youtube videos of 40 year old men criticizing his 15 year old games didn't Really care if he was just a kid, they just cared in the 'imagine when he reaches peak physicality? imagine the points (money) he'd make for the nba.' His beautiful differences, artistic, soft, unique but oh-so wonderfully common and passionate.. are all dissolved into 'Different', the Base definition.

he's an alien. Someone you can just dump all your poverty franchise worries onto because don't worry, he's Different. Trust me, he'll save your team. 'He's Different. ..am i talking about how he'd effortlessly answer questions in class while also trying to hide the fact that he's playing on his phone by tucking his bony legs awkwardly in his chair and crouching his spine over that it looked almost scary? HELL NO? what does THAT have to do with BASKETBALL?? no, he's just freakishly long, but like. Gifted. Though. ... I don't know, man, he's just DIFFERENT, okay? you can trust me, i'm a sports podcaster, okay? everything i say is gold.'

A celebrity approaches him because he was different than most famous basketball athletes. He was Different. And yet, when he didn't recognize or notice her presence due to Different cultures ( due to Being Genuinely, Detailedly Different ), he was scorned and ushered out of public eye so another possible pr bomb couldn't injure his reputation as a Difference That They Really Would Rather Not Want.

that's what his reading falls into, his old friends, his family, his art, his personality. If it's beyond ball, if it's beyond Business. The world only cares if it's marketable. Sure, some reporters will ask a question outside of sport, but only because it'll be a Different.. funny little nugget of knowledge for fans to laugh at then soon disregard for what Really made him famous. But, Wemby is what he always wanted to be. He's Different. So What if it's not exactly the kind of Different he actually wants, he actually functions on? No one has the time to perform 200% anymore. Slap the label you wanted and call it quits, stop being so High-Maintenanced. That's not marketable.

You're just different. And to some people, that's all you'll ever be. No need to explore it any further. Who knows, your Consumers might find something they won't like. And we can't risk that happening to our greatest circus freak.

i mean. Generational basketball talent .

If there's a press conference going on that somehow includes the two, then Wemby just wants to be sure everyone can hear what he really wants to say, in his own words, not echoing anyone else's, and Jabari just wants to Be in the Room.

His brother stopped playing basketball because his family said he didn't try hard enough. Jabari Can't have that. His whole life revolves Around basketball, around sport. He doesn't WANT to be DIFFERENT if that isn't the soundest option, he just wants to be GREAT. Because GREAT is SUCCESS. Jabari Smith is not success. It's just a retry at it . His father shares the same name.

Wemby's life did not always revolve around basketball, to people, at one point. At one point, Wemby's life was just his life. Now, it seems like only his family think that, and they're from a whole other country. When he comments on videos critiquing his playstyle, he doesn't do so out of anger or questioning, he does so because he genuinely Wants to improve. He Does want to be great. But, he wants to be great in Everything that he finds interesting. He always did. When he likes an author, he reads All their books, not just their most notorious novel. He wants to be transported into other people's worlds so he can learn, so he can change, so he can be Different. Even if he somehow were to lose all of this fame, this Greatness, this job, this opportunity, he will never really lose. Because he's someone who's always taken opportunities to the fullest, so even if they pan out a little differently, that's Fine, really, because he's different. Not in the minimizing, dictionary definition then leave the meaning at that different, but in the butterfly effect. What he once was ten days ago is not exactly the same of what he is now, and it hurts, sometimes, when people fail to see that, or simply don't want to because textbook different is easier to digest than worldly different.

IN SHORT.. theyre foils. i can't Exactly walk u thru their relationship bcs .. there Isn't one.. & that's what's so Interesting about them. That's what makes their relationship, to me. Because if they WERE to be friends, if they somehow in some alternate world WERE to get paired up on the same team... they would be friends. I really think they would be. Not only because their signs are so compatible, or their differences are so stark, but because their similarities would triumph everything beautifully. Maybe. We don't know because they Weren't paired together, we can only speculate. But i think it would be big and beautiful, whatever they would have, it would be Something.

unfortunately, we don't live in an alternate world where they're teammates though ! Double unfortunately, Jabari and Wemby's biggest similarity is their loyalty to the game (a double-edged sword in both their lives from Jabari's silent unhealthy desire to be limited and Wemby's silent desperation not to be) Wemby, in Jabari's eyes, is Indeed a powerful...

Problem.

He's not really a person to him . In all fairness, no one really is when they're involved in the basketball world, not to Jabari, not from the way he's been taught. Everyone's supposed to be Replaceable, a faceless tool in the pocket of good business.

.. except for This freakazoid. Apparently.

APPARENTLY, he's some supposed 'saint'. someone to be feared for being more. APPARENTLY, the reporters just LOVE yapping about him SO much, that Jabari HAS to take the time out of his training just to talk about some guy who doesn't even GO here, yet when they ask him about his opinion on future prospects. WELL, that's ALL wemby IS to Jabari, just another future prospect. Just another problem.

A problem he'll be sure to check off his list.

... okay, so Maybe he's a bit more than a problem.. maybe.. he's just a really persistent problem? yeah, that's it, nothing more. Jabari will work through this. He Always does. That's what he does well, Work.

Wemby wonders if that's all he ever does .

But he doesn't have long before Jabari's marching down the tunnel to beat himself up over all his mistakes other people would never make, and Wemby's being escorted to an interview that other people would never make solely to show how Much he just Stands Out as a soul... in basketball .

I hope they find each other in basketball, and out of it as well. I just feel like

Something would Happen

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

I'm finally working on my analysis post about “Wonderland” by Big Country again and I'm about to cry because writing this has given me an even deeper appreciation of it AND OH I'M REALLY GONNA CRY OVER A FUCKING ROCK SONG? YES. No, I cannot tell you something new there. LOL

[thefandomcassandra]

they're Orpheus and Eurydice, they're unhealthy and imbalanced, the very heavens keep them apart, they do not love equally, they have both become parents, they have a century between them, death cannot keep them in his grip, they lie and cheat and steal to pave their way

[wooahaes]

13K+ WORDS?! i’m taking my seat right now for cheol’s uts 🪑

haha hi nonny <3 cheol's part is def gonna be pretty long especially bc i'm still not done w it. still gotta finish the ending and i already know tht i wanna go back and add in some extra stuff to help with pacing :3 but i hope u enjoy it when it does drop in the future!! just gotta get through jun/shua/han first >:3

[monstersflashlight]

Just the tip (Day 3/8 of 10k followers event)

Minotaur x fem!reader || size kink, soft (but filthy) sex, dirty talk, breeding, oral sex

You are quietly walking through the supermarket one day when you have to climb a shelf because you can’t reach the fucking cereals you want. You are pushing your body up when you slip and brace yourself for impact. But the impact never comes. You feel strong big arms around you and when you look up you are staring into the eyes of the biggest minotaur you’ve ever seen.

From that point on, you see him every time you go to the supermarket, it’s like magic. You are going grocery shopping? He’s walking the aisle like he’s there just for you. Days pass and you can’t stop thinking about how wonderful he is, how pretty… and how fucking big. He insists on helping you get everything from the top shelf, you aren’t exactly little, but he’s so tall and broad and fucking magnificent… You agree. And just like that, you have a new grocery shopping friend.

Your friendship develops from there, you gave him your phone, he texts you when he’s going shopping, you met there. Sometimes you go out for coffee after, sometimes he insists on following you home and helping you put the groceries away… You never thought it was wrong because if felt completely fine, it felt natural and amazing to trust him, to feel cared for. And you think you might be in love.

When he finally asks you out, you say “yes” so fast he starts laughing as you blush like a teenager. He embraces you human body against his big minotaur one and lifts you up, burying his big head in your neck as you grab his horns. The sinful groan he lets out makes you whimper in need, and just like that, you two are horny as fuck and it’s like something broke inside you. A new kind of need awakening.

You go on a date that feels like the longest foreplay you’ve ever felt. The date is fucking fantastic, you two fitting better than puzzle pieces, and you can’t stop thinking how much you want to suck his cock. If he’s somewhat proportionate, he must be huge, and that thought plagues your brain every time you look at him. But you don’t say nothing that day.

You continue dating and going groceries together, and after a month of constant turn-on state, you are casually hanging out in your kitchen putting the groceries away as he sits and looks at you while you two talk.

“What?” He asks when he catches you staring at him for the hundredth time, a big smile in his pretty face. He’s so cute you want to hit him, sometimes. You can’t deal with such adorable being.

You look at him, feeling your cheeks getting hot already. “I- Nothing,” you say, embarrassed to admit you were thinking about his dick, once again. You are in a constant state of sexual frustration since you started dating. You thought it would be more sex and less cuteness, and you aren’t mad about it being cute, but dang, you want his cock so deeply inside of you, you could feel him for days after.

He smirks, grabbing a grape out of the bag and chewing it slowly. “Come on, don’t be shy, tell me.” His absurdly hot face and body look so tantalizing and you feel so ready to climb him like a tree every time you get close to him...

“I- I lowkey… Never mind, it’s too embarrassing.” You look down as you take some more groceries and store them in the cupboard. You hear him getting up and getting closer to you, his heat behind you making you melt against his chest. His strong arms coming around you as you sigh, happily. He turns you around and pecks at your lips, his big eyes making pleading as he says nothing. “Okay, okay, stop using those big eyes on me. I… I was thinking about your dick,” you confess, hiding your face in his chest.

He pulls his fingers under your chin and pushes your face up. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and heat in his eyes that you have to grab at his shirt harder not to fall, your knees weak under you. “Say that again?” He asks, his tone pleadingly.

“We… We’ve been seeing each other for a long time and I… I want to move things further,” you let out slowly, looking at him for any reaction. But his face is completely blank and you start doubting everything about your relationship. The voices in your head are loud as you let out a choked: “It’s okay if it’s too fast, I get it. I know. Shutting up now.” It’s been too little, he doesn’t feel the same, he’s just with you because you are exotic… Your inner monologue is filled with self-doubt.

“No. No, it’s not that,” he says, an edge of self-doubt mirroring yours. You blush hard as you look at him up and down, your brain going a mile per minute and falling into the worst possible scenarios.

“What then?” You ask, neediness bleeding into your voice. “You… You don’t find me attractive?” You finally ask, your self-esteem issues making you want to cry as he looks down at you with the most shocked expression ever.

“What?! Are you insane?!” His growl is so deep and feral that your knees turn into jelly under you.

You grab the edge of the counter not to fall. But you can’t respond with anything before he’s manhandling your body over your kitchen table and pushing all the groceries to the ground. You are about to protest when he leans over your body and starts kissing you senseless. His arms part your legs and he steps between them, his monstrous bulge fitting perfectly against your clothed pussy.

“You want this?” He says as he grinds against you. “Are you sure?” He sounds hesitant, but his dick is so hard against you that you want to scream.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant, trying to grind against him. He growls and rips your clothes off in two fast tugs, leaving you naked over the table, like a sacrifice for the minotaur. And you are more than ready to be devoured.

He pulls his fly open in one tug, probably breaking it in the process, but his movements are frantic. He pushes against you once again, his dick huge against your dripping cunt. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he grunts, his dick leaking precum. Leaking so much of it that you feel it dripping over your wet pussy, making a bigger mess. “I don’t think I would fit, you are so tiny.” He proves his point pressing a finger inside you, making you arch your back and moan loudly. He grunts as he fucks you slowly. His finger feels already so big...

“Just the tip,” you try to argue, wanting nothing more than to be fucked. You know you can take him. At least some of him, but he’s so caring and so worried about you… Always worried. You moan and try to move your hips, but his grip is non-forgiving. You can’t move even a millimeter as he rubs his tip against your wet folds around his finger still buried inside. “Please, please,” you always thought you were above begging, but today you learned a new thing about yourself.

“Just the tip?” He asks, the big head of his cock teasing your entrance. “You are so tight,” he grunts. You feel like he’s going to break you apart as he presses lightly, making you cry out. He pulls back, scared that he hurt you, but you shush him, kissing his snout and grabbing his horns. You know he loves when you play with his horns, he told you how sensitive they were.

“Just the tip,” you repeat. You are already feeling needy and desperate, wanting nothing more but for him to fuck you into oblivion, even if that means you’d be impaled by a giant dick.

“You are soaking,” he groans as he gets in position, making you hot all over. The sounds he makes are so erotic you can’t stop moaning in response.

He starts pushing inside millimeter by millimeter and you feel like your body is being torn. He’s so big, so massive inside of you. You don’t know if you can take him. You don’t know if the tip was already too much for your poor human pussy.

“You feel amazing, such a good little human for me.” He keeps going, shushing your whimpers and telling you how good you feel, how pretty you look stretched around him. “Your pussy is so good, you feel so tight around me. Your pussy feels amazing, best pussy I’ve ever tried, I’m not gonna give you up for anything in the world. You are MINE.” With a roar he pushes a bit deeper, making you cry out.

After that it’s like a switch turns off inside him. Before you realize, he’s slipped a bit more inside. And a bit more. And he’s halfway there when he starts to fuck you in earnest, losing complete control of himself because of how good you feel. You start chanting his name as he keeps hitting deep inside of you. Too much, too deep, but so, so good you can’t stop the tears from falling freely.

He fucks you like a piston, so lost in the pleasure of your body that you can’t even think straight as he goes and goes and goes. You don’t know where his body starts and yours ends. You don’t know what day it is or what’s your own name. You just know his dick pushing far and deep inside of you, harder and harder with each thrust. It’s maddening.

“I’m gonna breed you,” he starts. You groan in response, the idea of being filled to the brim making you hotter than expected. And he keeps going, “I’m gonna come so far inside of you, you are gonna feel me inside for days.” You groan again, rocking your hips against him. “Rub your pretty clit for me, fall apart around my dick, let me feel your pussy milking me.” You scream at his words, overwhelmed.

You obey, rubbing your clit as he fucks you furiously on the table, the wood underneath you creaking under the force of his thrusts. It takes you less than two seconds to come around his shaft, only halfway in, but bigger than anything you’ve ever tried.

“Just like that, yes. Yes. Good little human.” He starts babbling nonsense as he fucks you though your orgasm.

When you are coming down from the extracorporeal experience that is an orgasm with him, you feel the first shoot of his come inside of you. He comes, and comes, and comes a bit more. You feel some come leaking around his dick, you feel so full you don’t know what to do but squirm under him. The movement just makes everything move and you groan, clenching around him as he grunts.

He pulls out after what feels like an eternity hugging each other, your pussy feels raw and abused. You whimper when he touches you, so tender and fucked out, but he doesn’t really care, a dazed look in his eyes as he looks at your leaking pussy. You push your body up on your elbows, looking down at him as he kneels on the floor, between your legs. He launches at your pussy, eating you out until he deems you are clean enough. You come three times before he’s done.

And then he takes you to bed and does it all over again.

[et6rnalsun]

accidentally walking in on bff!matt while he’s changing..

oh, you were so pissed off. so incredibly pissed off.

you couldn't believe how chris had the fucking audacity to throw away your lashes, despite you repeatedly telling him to be careful, and to keep them on their table until you came back to get them. your favorite pair, too.

it wasn't uncommon for you to stay at their house to sleep, and that you left pieces of your things around like an incomplete puzzle, which will probably remain so. but never, never in the fuckin history of your friendship, one of the three had lost or just thrown away something of yours. and when it happened to your beloved eyelashes, you knew for sure that you would have loved to commit a murder.

the wheels in your head were spinning non-stop in the evil creation of a plan against chris, all while you were walking briskly towards matt's room.

“i think it’s time for you to beat chris’s ass every fuckin’ day” you said with a huff escaping your glossy lips, opening his door — swinging it fully — without even glancing inside before doing so. only when you looked up you realized the fact that the boy was half naked in front of you. damn.

you stopped working for a few seconds too long, looking stupid in matt's eyes who was simply trying to change. your mouth wide open, a light shade of red dusting your cheeks as if a wave of freezing cold had passed through your soft skin like a caress, but in reality it was just the embarrassment of having caught your best friend in such a state.

his dark hair looked even thicker when wet, dripping from a shower you could tell he'd just taken. he was holding a t-shirt in his hands that he hadn't had time to put on, in fact, his chest was completely exposed to your eyes that betrayed your desire to just disappear from earth — traveling all over his body as if you were waiting for nothing else. his tattooed arm seemed even more beautiful in that context, and you found yourself sighing as you searched for something to say.

the gray sweatpants that were pulled down low enough to show the elastic of his calvin klein underwear, a v-line that you would love to touch with your tongue— "i'm sorry" you cleared your throat, fighting the urge to slap yourself.

his reaction surprised you, as he simply chuckled and finally put that shirt on. "what were you saying ‘bout chris?" matt quickly changed the subject, tilting his head as he looked at you intently. you shrugged in response, the urge to kill his brother suddenly gone. christ, you were too embarrassed to even breathe at that moment.

matt seemed to notice, and leaned in slightly as a smirk tugged at the corners of his pink lips. "don't tell me you're suddenly shy" he taunted, tortured you just for the fun of it. "you've only seen me shirtless, you haven't ended up in my sheets just yet" he added, making your eyes widen as your hand automatically moved to slap his chest. covered.

"shut up. you better shut up or chris won't be the only one to die today"

"i just have to undress and you'll change your mind—” another slap. in the face.

[jjunieworld]

I WANNA BE YOURS ˒˒ 최연준͏ ▸ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝗰𝗲𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

after confessing your feelings and not getting the reaction you hoped for, you decided to cut contact and avoid yeonjun. the only thing is that he refuses to let you go that easily and is determined to show you that your two worlds can collide.

pairing ⸝⸝ choi yeonjun 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦!𝘣𝘦𝘰𝘮𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘥!𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ secret friends with benefits to ??? to lovers, angst, smut, secret relationship, opposites attract, punk!yeonjun, nerd!reader, reader wears glasses, punk x nerd trope, some bad boy x good girl trope, slice of life, college au

warnings ⸝⸝ heartbreak, unprotected sex, soft dom!yeonjun, kinda service!top yeonjun, heavy praise kink, marking, petnames (baby, sweetheart, good girl, babygirl), creampie, multiple orgasms, a lot more desperation and neediness lmao, pussy drunk!yeonjun, body worship, clit stimulation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, some aftercare

kipo’s note ⸝⸝ hehe here’s part two finally for everybody who wanted it for ceilings!! this is inspired by the songs i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys and corner by sace6!! made it extra angsty for you guys since i know you all like the pain (me too) :3 hehe i hope that you like it as much as part one and that the ending is satisfying! (ʃƪ〃ﾟ3ﾟ〃)♡ enjoy my loves!!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 9k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

you have been ignoring choi yeonjun, you can finally admit to it now. for a week you’ve been dodging him if you even caught a glimpse of his orange hair with blonde streaks.

you knew it was ridiculous, but how could you ever face him with what happened in your room the last time you saw him? the answer: you don’t face him at all.

of course he noticed, you were now actively avoiding him and not trying to hide it anymore. if you happened to be quickly scurrying past him to get to where you needed to be—which for the past week he always made sure to be near—you could feel his heavy gaze linger on you. yet, he hasn’t stopped by your room at all or even sent you a quick text.

there was now this… awkward tension between the two of you. tension that clearly neither of you knew how to address. and you could see it in his eyes, he wanted to say something to you so desperately, but he kept his mouth shut. and so did you. at this point, you were content in never opening your mouth again.

it’s gotten to the point where even his friends have been questioning him.

“do you know her? why are you staring at her so much?” they would ask him. his answer was always the same variation of this reply: “i’ve seen her around a couple times. we have some classes together.” followed by some lie he quickly made up off the top of his head to explain why his eyes were on you. never the truth.

the fact of the matter is that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, so what’s the point in continuing this secret relationship the two of you have? you were in love with him, but he wasn’t in love with you. two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards—you’d never go together. the two of you should just part ways now while everything was all out on the table.

it was a mistake, confessing your feelings for him, but there was nothing you could do about it now but pretend it never happened. and pretend that you never got involved with choi yeonjun.

you pulled the turtleneck further up your neck as you ducked next to where the outside water fountains were, chest rising heavily as your eyes darted to the side. you hoped yeonjun didn’t see you. sighing to yourself softly, you pulled your phone out and checked the love bites on your neck. they were almost faded now, but every time you looked at them you can’t help but think of that night and a sharp pain erupts in your chest.

you moved to leave before you were suddenly cornered against the brick wall of the campus building you ducked behind. you smelt his familiar cologne before you saw his face and dyed hair. “we have to talk. you can’t keep avoiding me.”

your heartbeat suddenly picked up and you quickly swallowed down the lump forming in your throat. “we have nothing to talk about,” you replied, eyes locked on the band tee he was wearing.

it was a lie, you knew that. you knew that at some point the two of you had to talk about your confession, but you desperately wished he would just let it go and pretend like it never happened like you were.

“don’t bullshit me, y/n,” yeonjun countered, leaning into your ear.

you eyes traveled up to the skull necklace you have gifted him. slight surprise coursed through you at the fact that he still wore it—at the fact that he wore it at all. your eyes then locked on his and you gathered all the firmness you could to add to your stare.

“you clearly don’t feel the same way that i do, yeonjun. let’s just leave it at that.” as you spoke, a small group of students passed by the corner you both were tucked in. yeonjun frantically backed away from you and checked your surroundings, eyes darting from place to place.

you scoffed to yourself. how ridiculous. “you don’t even want to be seen in public with me,” you continued, deep hurt creeping in the edges of your voice.

yeonjun’s eyes darted back to yours and he quickly stepped towards you. “it’s complicated,” he said.

“it’s… complicated...” you shook your head at him in disbelief as you slowly repeated his words, words growing in volume as you went on. “it isn’t, yeonjun. it really isn’t. trigonometry is complicated, this is—”

“i want to be with you,” he interrupted, voice just above a whisper, and grabbed your hands in his. yeonjun’s face was pleading, and almost desperate, but you were done. you were done being second choice to whatever he put ahead of you.

for months you were with him in the four corners of your room and you didn’t share a single complaint as long as the two of you were together. but now that he didn’t even want to be seen with you where others could possibly see, you were done.

you snatched your hands from his and yeonjun’s eyebrows shot up. “in secret! without any strings attached—but i can’t keep doing this with you. i can’t be with someone who only wants to be with me in private, who doesn’t want to be with me at all. i won’t allow myself.”

as you were pouring your everything onto the floor in front of yeonjun, you watched as he still glanced around the two of you, making sure that nobody was listening to your words. in real time, you felt your heart crack and shatter into a million pieces. all you could do was sigh defeatedly.

you turned towards the building you were originally heading for, no doubt late for the class you were supposed to be at, and began walking off. you felt yeonjun’s hand wrap around your wrist and pull you back.

your mouth opened in protest but the sound was quickly smothered as his lips smashed onto yours. you froze, heartbeat racing even further. hate sunk deep into the pit of your stomach. you hated how you melted into his touch and how your heart beat so fast it felt like it might explode. you hated how good his lips felt on yours—how familiar they felt and how much you missed the feeling.

you pushed him away from you, shock clear on your face as you looked up at him. in the seconds it took you to register that he just kissed you again for the first time after a week, your eyes darted to the side. to the completely empty campus. not a soul could be seen for miles. you looked back at him.

tears sprang to your eyes and this time you couldn’t stop the ones that managed to escape in his presence. you shook your head once again. “it’s over, yeonjun.” you broke free of him, hurt now showing through full force in your voice. “whatever we had… it’s over.”

you walked off, leaving his frozen figure behind you.

pushing your textbooks to the side, you sighed heavily to yourself. no matter what you did, you couldn’t focus—and that was unusual for you when it came to your studies. exams were just around the corner and you couldn’t afford to be distracted.

you removed your glasses and pinched the bridge of your nose. the only thing that stuck in your mind was your last conversation with yeonjun. slumping down onto the table in front of you, you looked around at the quiet library. you just couldn’t understand it.

did the opinions of his friends and strangers really matter that much to him? were you really not enough for him that he just had to keep you secret? what was it? yeonjun claimed that he wanted the two of you together, but he hesitates at the two of you being seen in public together. it made your mind twist and run in circles trying to figure it all out.

if he just wanted to be friends with benefits, why not find someone else? he could’ve saved you both the trouble. and you were sure there would be people jumping at the opportunity of that kind of relationship with him—but, not you.

you put your glasses back on as you sighed again. you hated to think it, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that ran through your head. what could you do to be enough for him?

how could you change yourself so that he wasn’t ashamed to be with you?

did you have to dye your hair a bright color? get rid of your argyle sweaters and longer-length skirts and instead wear darker clothes, more shorter skirts, and listen to the same rock music that he did? sport the frilly black dresses or the tighter, more vibrant clothing his female friends did? be more opinionated and vulgar and really speak your mind? 

it was clear that you weren’t retaining any information from your textbooks. you started to pack up, returning books back to where you found them and putting your notebooks back in your bag. you thought over every interaction you’ve ever had with yeonjun; how every moment led you to where the two of you were now. you could only think of one thing.

maybe you and yeonjun were two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards—and maybe you were trying too hard to force yourselves to fit together. maybe doing so has pushed you and yeonjun into a corner that neither of you knew how to get out of now.

without realizing the time, night had fallen around you and you stepped out into the coldness of the outside world. you looked up towards the starless sky.

perhaps the two of you should just stick to what you both know, instead of trying to go outside of the box.

yeonjun twirled the small skull necklace that you had gifted him between his fingers as he zoned out from the conversation his friends were having. he thought back to that night almost two weeks ago now, how you basically confessed that you were in love with him in your room. it still caught him off guard.

at first he thought that you were joking, until your heavy silence followed immediately after. he wanted to go back and say something other than what he did—wanted to kick himself for hesitating. yeonjun wanted to kick himself now for still hesitating.

he wasn’t exactly sure how to describe the feelings he felt for you, this whole thing was new to him. yeonjun didn’t do relationships. but, it was clear that you did. and he wanted you.

yeonjun wasn’t the flashy type or the openly affectionate type either. he honestly wasn’t sure that he could give you what you so desperately wanted from him. yet, he just couldn’t seem to let go of you either. was it selfish? yes. but, yeonjun didn’t care. not when you were slipping from his grasp.

with the other girls he’s been with it was easy. they never fell for him or expected more than the physical relationship that he had with them. they all knew what they were getting and took it at face value for what it was. but you were different—and he was different with you. yeonjun couldn’t explain to himself what set you apart, there was just something about you. all he knew was that he liked the change. he liked the different relationship the two of you had, and he was willing to do anything to keep it.

yeonjun just so happened to glance up as you were scurrying across the campus yard a couple feet away from him. he saw the way that you tried to avoid his stare, but still snuck the quickest of looks in his direction, trying to disguise it as you pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose. the corners of his lips rose the slightest bit. he had to talk to you again, make you see that calling off what the two of you had was the wrong choice.

a finger snapped in his face and his eyes focused back to his friends. “where has your head been at lately?” his friend, beomgyu, asked. he turned, his long brown hair falling into his eyes as he followed yeonjun’s gaze, “and what is it with you and that girl?”

yeonjun straightened as he tore his gaze away from you and brought beomgyu’s attention back to him. “nothing, i was just zoned out.” he purposefully ignored beomgyu’s second question.

beomgyu thankfully turned back to him, his eyes now focusing on something else entirely. “where did you get that necklace? you’ve never worn one before that.”

“uh, i don’t know? some random store i was getting clothes from, it caught my eye—why are you asking me so many questions? mind your business.” he dropped the necklace from his fingers. yeonjun didn’t have time to explain something he wasn’t quite sure of himself, not when he had to catch up to you. “i gotta go,” yeonjun quickly added, pushing away from his group of friends as he jogged in the direction you went in.

behind him, he heard beomgyu say to his other friends, “you think him and that girl are involved?” another one of his friends’ voices piped up. “the nerd? definitely not. she’s not his type.”

“i don’t know…” beomgyu trailed, “they would look cute together. there’s gotta be something happening at the very least.”

thankfully you hadn’t gone that far and yeonjun was able to catch up to you easily. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from prying eyes and somewhere more private. you turned in his grasp, looking up at him with an almost defeated and annoyed look.

“this can’t be over,” he started. you looked around before turning to walk away, but not before yeonjun held your wrist again, keeping you in place. “tell me what to do to fix this—help me fix this.”

yeonjun was kicking himself again for not knowing the words to express what he wanted to say. suddenly all the vocabulary he’d ever fucking learned disappears when he tries to talk to you and he ends up a bumbling mess.

“help you fix this?” you repeated.

yeonjun nodded, “yes. i wanna be with you—i wanna be yours. if you want a relationship, then we can have one.”

you tilted your head to the side and adjusted your glasses as you looked at him. “so if i were to go up to your friends with you right now and introduce myself as your girlfriend you wouldn’t have a problem with it?” you asked him, glancing back to the direction yeonjun came from mere moments before. yeonjun hesitated, stammering over his words. his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth.

you just scoffed to yourself at him. “you still don’t get it,” you said. “i don’t want to be another girl that you hook up with—another girl that you like. i want to be the girl that you like. i want to be more.”

hatred bubbled up inside you and threatened to spill over at the fact that you were still in love with him. at the fact that you were still wrapped around his finger to the point that you almost jumped at the opportunity of a relationship. yeonjun was just saying that to appease you—to get you naked and under him again and have things return to the way they were before.

resentment started to build towards yeonjun at the secrecy. it was a lot easier to blame him for how your relationship went up in flames instead of how flawed it was to begin with. besides, it felt good to restrict yourself from him—to have him stare at you as you passed while you ignored him instead, even if you still missed him and his touch.

you knew that this was all doing more harm than good, but right now you just couldn’t seem to care. maybe yeonjun’s attitude was finally starting to rub off on you and he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

yeonjun’s brows knitted together at your words. “you are the girl that i like,” he said, “there’s nobody else but you.”

you stared at him for a moment in silence. in a melancholic voice you asked, “why do you like me?”

yeonjun could feel you drifting further and further away from him and he didn’t like it. he wanted to pin you to his chest so that you always stayed close—like the necklace around his neck you gave him. his mind raced and there felt like there was sand in his mouth as he raced against the hourglass of time that the two of you had left—and still, he came up empty once again.

it wasn’t that he didn’t have any reasons for liking you—he had plenty—it was just that there were so many that his brain short-circuited. if you just gave him the time and a pen and paper he could make whole novels. but time was running out and yeonjun watched as your face fell more and more the longer the seconds ticked by.

“because of the sex?” you asked, voice raising. yeonjun looked around the two of you before sighing and cupping your face with his hands as he shook his head. something inside him cracked at the way your eyes started to become glassy. “does the thrill of you sneaking into my window at night knowing that nobody would ever expect the two of us together excite you?” you continued. “genuinely, what is it, yeonjun? help me understand.”

glassy tears fell down your cheeks and yeonjun felt himself shatter. he tried to pull you closer to him, to comfort you, but you pushed him away. you shook your head as your gaze dropped to the ground. “you really know how to break my heart in two, don’t you?” you asked in a small voice as you looked up at him, completely defeated.

you turned and moved to leave. yeonjun tried to grab your hand, but the only thing he was able to grasp was the fleeting touch of your fingertips against his as you got further away from him. he stood completely rooted to the spot you left him in, frozen, as he watched you disappear.

suddenly everything yeonjun wanted to say to you crashed into him like a wave, but he was too late. he twisted towards the trash can next to him and gave it an angry and harsh kick, causing it to fly across the grass. students passing by jumped at the sudden noise and looked yeonjun’s way, but he couldn’t care less.

yeonjun buried his head in his hands and pulled at the tips of his hair. “fuck!” he yelled, running his hands messily through his hair. he looked up and saw a couple of students looking at him. “what the fuck are you looking at?” he angrily called out to them as he briskly walked away.

whether you intended to or not, you started to change yourself. your sweaters got darker, your skirts got shorter, and you even started to put on a hint of eyeliner before leaving. when you looked at yourself in the mirror it almost felt like there was a stranger staring back; it was you but it wasn’t at the same time. like you were wearing a cheap costume and pretending to be something that you weren’t.

you withdrawled more and more into yourself, only really emerging to take your exams and to study. you felt so bleak that even the darkness of your clothes didn’t light a match onto the way you felt inside. even your friends started to notice.

“so is this a new look you’re going for?” taehyun asked, his eyes looking over you. you shrugged and finished writing the sentence you were writing in your notebook. “i never even seen you wear black before and… is—is that eyeliner?” he added, moving closer to you until you were face to face.

you made a face and pushed him away. “it’s makeup and clothes, why does it matter to you?” you bit back, tone sharp. you didn’t mean to be so snappy with taehyun, it seemed you haven’t had the patience lately. you shifted in your seat, adjusting your skirt and sweater. the weather was getting colder during the daytime, so you decided to wear some black tights and boots.

taehyun just gave you a look, “you don’t seem yourself—you haven’t been yourself, y/n. what’s going on with you?” you looked back at him with a glare, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

scoffing, you hurriedly threw your things back into your bag. “nothing,” you pushed out, “i am completely myself. just because i wear different clothes and makeup from time to time doesn’t mean i’m not myself.” you stood from the table and threw your bag over your shoulders.

adjusting your skirt again, you swirled to where taehyun still sat, a shocked expression on his face from your outburst. “maybe you should learn to not stick your nose into other people’s business.” with that, you stormed out of the student lounge.

you were heading towards the library to continue studying when your phone buzzed. you fished it from your bag, seeing what it was from. you stopped dead in your tracks right in the middle of the sidewalk. it was yeonjun.

the wall you had painstakingly built up around you started to crack as you read his incoming messages and you felt your knees start to get weak. you were doing so well ignoring and avoiding him, how could you let a simple text from him have all of it come crashing down?

yeonjun: baby. yeonjun: i really need to talk to you.

you have come so far with shutting him out of your heart, yet one little message has all of your love for him flood back into you. why now? it’s been weeks, you were finally starting to try to move on; why would he make you love him again?

it was enough to feel his eyes on you—always on you, no matter where you went anywhere in his presence. you could almost hear his voice in your head with the way he radiated onto you. you knew he wanted to talk to you again, but he held back. it angered you. for once you just wanted him to spit it out, spit out the words hiding behind his tongue instead of always holding back.

you wanted him to fight for you, to show you that he cares about you—you, and not just what you could offer him. not your help with his studies, not the excitement he got from sneaking around with you, and not the sex. you wanted him to hold you like he never wanted to let you go ever again. and if you tried hard enough, you could almost feel his skin on yours again—and damn if you didn’t miss it all.

you heaved in a shaky breath as you stared at the messages. with another shaky breath, you pushed your phone back into your bag and kept walking to the library.

another starless night greeted you as you finished all the work you needed to do today. the cold air nipped at your cheeks and you made your way through the quiet streets back to your apartment.

you pushed open your front door, thankful to finally be home and take some of the stress off your back. you dropped your bag near the entrance and made your way to your room so you could shower the day away.

opening your bedroom door, you froze in complete shock. yeonjun sat on your floor, his back pressed up against the bottom edge of your bed as he idly flipped through one of your textbooks. he looked up at your entrance and his eyes immediately flicked over you. yeonjun flipped the textbook closed without looking at it and tossed it to the side as he stood.

you inhaled sharply, your brows drawing together. mentally, you cursed yourself for stupidly forgetting to lock your window. it’s been unlocked for yeonjun for so long now that you completely forgot about it. you stumbled over your words as yeonjun took a step closer to you. “w-what the fuck?” you murmured.

yeonjun raised a brow at your words.

he took another step towards you and his eyes trailed along your body, taking in every inch of you. “you look… different,” yeonjun said, his eyes finally meeting yours. it almost made you collapse. “it seems like i’m finally rubbing off on you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat as you stepped into the room. you moved to your dresser and began taking out some pajamas, turning your back towards yeonjun so he didn’t see the way you hands shook. “why are you here?” you spoke. your mouth felt dry and your voice came out almost hoarse.

behind you, you heard yeonjun’s footsteps move closer to you. “i needed to see you,” he replied. “hear your voice again… i missed you.”

when you didn’t respond, yeonjun gently grabbed your arm. sparks exploded from his touch and your heart rate picked up. you sat the clothes on the top of your dresser and tightened your hands into fists. “talk to me, baby. we can’t keep just passing by each other like we don’t know one another,” yeonjun added, his voice low in the quiet room.

you turned to face him, your face full of anger. “what? now it’s too much when i ignore you but it wasn’t when you were ignoring me?” you pushed him away from you and moved towards where your desk was to get away from him. “now that you’re getting a taste of how i feel, it's bitter, huh? it’s rotting you to the core, isn’t it?” you added sarcastically.

yeonjun looked at you from across the room, “it is. it fucking is and it sucks and i’m sorry. i never knew you felt this way. if i did, i never would’ve put you through it.” yeonjun took a couple steps towards you and you held out a hand to stop him. “but, i know now. i know now and i’ll make a million promises to never put you through it again.” you scoffed.

“you bring out the best in me,” yeonjun said, running a hand through his faded dyed hair. “we bring out the best in each other, you know that. and this… this isn’t you, y/n.”

you rose your chin slightly in defiance. “and what if this is me?” you countered. “don’t you like it?”

yeonjun hummed and for a moment he was quiet. you could see the gears turning and turning in his head as he took in your appearance once again, making his way closer and closer to you until he stood mere inches away from you. you watched as his eyes dragged up your body before finally connecting with yours once more. “i like the real you,” yeonjun said.

your little defiant act fell flat and you looked away from him, licking your lips.

“i like your preppy looking clothes and how it makes you light up a room. i like the way your glasses fall down when you’re focusing on something too hard to notice and i have to adjust them for you—i like how you don’t even notice that i do it sometimes.” yeonjun took a small step towards you and your breath hitched. he reached forward and adjusted your glasses for you.

the tips of his fingers grazed over your cheek and you felt the fire light underneath you, making heat spread all throughout your body. you looked at him again, his eyes boring into yours and softening at your gaze. without realizing it, you leaned into his touch.

yeonjun continued, the pad of his thumb dragging along your chin. “i like how soft your skin is, and the way it feels against mine. i like the way i can feel your body heat up like a crackling fire when i touch you and how your heart thumps out of your skin. i like feeling you close to me.” he then closed the distance between the two of you so that you were now pressed close to him.

the heat of his body thawed you completely; crumbled down the walls you built and forced out the feelings you desperately tried to hide. yeonjun took in every inch of your face, like it was one he hasn’t seen for centuries, as he spoke, “i like how when we’re apart, i crave you. i like the way my body reacts to yours everytime you’re near. it’s like you send a shockwave through me and every fiber of my being is alight; like i finally see clearly—and all i want to look at is you. i didn’t understand what it all meant, why you felt so different—why i felt so different, but i do now. i like who i am when i’m with you.”

his lips brushed at the shell of your ear, “i like that we’re different. i like that we drive each other crazy, because then it means that we care about each other. i like you. not some other girl, not this version of you that you think i’d like—you.” yeonjun’s lips were feather-light across your jaw. he was so close to you that if you were to lean forward the slightest bit, your lips would meet. “enough with all of this. let me feel you again.”

yeonjun pressed his lips to your in the most searing kiss you’ve ever had in your life. like you were the flint and he was the steel and your kiss was the spark that set everything ablaze. you let out a small gasp against his lips from the heat of it all. it felt so surreal, like watching lightning strike across the night sky and making it almost seem like day. the more your lips moved in sync, the more lightning there was, the more the sky brightened until it was an electrifying battle between night and day.

your hands moved up yeonjun’s chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you even closer. if your hands weren’t in the way, you were sure that your rapid heartbeats would be in perfect sync, too. if your kiss was the lightning, your hearts were the booming thunder, demanding to be heard—demanding to be felt.

after the two of you were fighting for oxygen in your deprived lungs, you pulled away just the slightest bit to gulp in heavy breaths. with the last strength inside you, you pushed at yeonjun’s chest and turned your head to the side. he didn’t move far, his grip around your waist refusing to be broken. you could feel his confusion and he pressed a light kiss to your burning cheek.

you turned your gaze to your ceiling, the ceiling that you’ve spent so many days staring at and daydreaming about a relationship that you didn’t have. even with yeonjun’s words, it all still felt too good to be true. it felt like if you were to look over at your bed, you would see yourself laying there, eyes on the ceiling, lost in the world you have created.

storm clouds drifted over you. what if he was only saying what you wanted to hear? what he needed to say to you so you’d lay yourself completely bare in front of him again. you didn’t think you could have the stars come crashing down around you again if you let yourself let yeonjun hang them in the sky for you.

you dragged your gaze from your ceiling back to yeonjun’s confused stare. a pained expression flickered across your face and you tried to hide it the best you could. you swallowed, and barely above a whisper you said, “if you just want some girl to fuck, find someone else.”

you tried to push him away more, but the more you pushed, the more he pulled you back into him. until your chest was up against his and you were flush against his body—and still, he pulled you closer; like the slightest leeway between you two would destroy him. like if he didn’t hold you close you would disappear. you felt the way his heartbeat picked up even more and saw the desperation appear in his eyes as his brows knitted together and he shook his head.

“it’s not like that and you know it,” yeonjun said, his voice matching the tone of yours. “i don’t want to fuck just any girl, i want to fuck you.”

ever vulgar, yeonjun’s words, but you knew deep down that he meant what he said. and you knew that he wasn’t just talking about the sex. his fingers wandered up your sides, cautiously exploring your body on their own accord. your eyes fluttered shut briefly as you inhaled deeply. “i want to feel you, be with you,” yeonjun continued.

yeonjun caught your lips in another kiss and this time you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch. you felt his need through the kiss and you were sure he could feel yours, too. the two of you stumbled backwards a couple steps and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself stable, your lips never leaving his. his tongue slipped into your mouth and danced with yours.

the clouds parted and one by one stars started to twinkle in the night sky. no longer were your skies starless. it was all too much all at once and you tore yourself away from yeonjun, shaking your head. “i can’t…” you whispered, breath haggard, “i can’t keep doing this with you. not after everything.”

yeonjun cupped your face so you would look at him again. tears welled up in your eyes and you were just so overwhelmed. you didn’t know what to do, didn’t know if you could put your love somewhere where it could be shattered again. not after you were still picking up all of the pieces of your heart.

“so let me take the lead,” yeonjun said. “let me show you how much i want you. how much i need you.”

his lips were on yours again as he backed you up towards your bed. the back of your knees hit the edge and you fell down onto it, looking up at yeonjun with a melodramatic stare. he kicked off his boots and shrugged off the black leather jacket he wore, letting it fall to a heap on your floor. yeonjun then grabbed the bottom hem of your black, argyle sweater and pulled it off of you, tossing it to the side next to where his jacket laid.

“i really do like you, you know that right?” he asked you as he stripped off one of his various band tees that he wore. you nodded and yeonjun nodded along with you. his fingers hooked under your skirt, “yeah? good.”

in one swift motion he pulled off your skirt, tights, and your panties underneath, tossing them carelessly to the side by the rest of your clothes. you were only left in your bra as you crawled backwards up your bed.

yeonjun slowly unbuckled the belt in his jeans. “you really like me?” you asked shyly, pressing your legs together and leaning them to the side. the corners of yeonjun’s lips rose. his eyes sparkled in the low lamplight and it made the smudged eyeliner around his eyes appear darker. “of course i do, babygirl.”

his voice was full of amusement, like you just asked him if the sky was blue. heat flushed your face and pooled at the pit in your stomach. you suppose it was a silly question, considering all that he said to you tonight.

yeonjun pulled down his black jeans, exposing the large bulge in his boxers. “i like like you, sweetheart. i think i’ve made that pretty obvious tonight.”

you inhaled sharply, your eyes trailing over him and the articles of clothing that kept disappearing from his body. he pushed down his boxers and his large cock sprang free, precum already glittering from the slit. he looked back up at you and your heart stopped.

yeonjun got up onto the bed and moved toward you until you were caged beneath his body. he reached behind you and stripped off your bra, lips hovering over your exposed breasts. you felt his warm breath against your skin and shivered.

“i can spend the whole night listing off every little thing i like about you,” he said in a low voice that your ears just managed to catch through the ringing in your ears. yeonjun pressed chaste kisses from your breasts, to your chest, and all the way up to where he placed a kiss on your lips. “but i’d rather just show you instead, don’t you think?”

he dipped his head into the crook of your neck while his hands trailed down your body. you pulsated with need and desire for him, and your hands splayed across his back and pulled him closer. yeonjun chuckled lowly, the vibrations sending waves throughout your body. his hand moved between your legs and spread your wetness throughout your folds before his thumb rubbed circles into your clit.

you gasped, clutching tighter to him as your back arched. yeonjun pulled away from your neck, his thumb still drawing circles, as he looked at you through his dyed hair. you caught sight of the small skull necklace you gave him resting against his collarbones. even after everything, he never took it off. you swallowed thickly and nodded at his previous question.

yeonjun’s lips brushed against yours and he pushed you back onto the bed so that he hovered over you. the necklace you gave him dangled right beneath your lips and every so often you could feel the cold metal against them. yeonjun’s head tilted to the side, “do you want me to list everything, or do you want me to fuck you instead?”

your mouth opened but no words came out, only a small moan as your hips lifted towards his hand. yeonjun hummed, stopping his movements and you almost whined at the loss of friction. “what’s it gonna be?” he asked, pretty lips attaching to your neck with open-mouthed kisses before nipping at the soft skin to leave marks in his wake.

“p-please,” you begged, lifting your hips towards his hand again in a desperate attempt for friction. “please fuck me.”

yeonjun smiled against your skin and his thumb finally continued to circle the sensitive nub. you whimpered at the sudden contact, wrapping your legs around his waist. “good girl,” yeonjun praised. he reached for one of your pillows and had you lift your hips so he could place it under them.

he grabbed his cock, stroking it along your wet folds. “because tonight, you’re all mine. and i like keeping you all to myself. i don’t like sharing.”

yeonjun pushed into you with a low grunt and you swear you felt him deeper than you ever have before. you gasped loudly at how you could feel all of him inside you and how full it made you feel. it felt like the two of you finally fit together—no longer were you both forcing each other into a board you didn’t belong to. now, there was a whole new puzzle board, one to which you both belonged.

with a slow starting pace, yeonjun thrusted into you. “how’s that, baby? does that feel good?” the wet sound of his cock dragging in and out of you and the slight slap of skin hitting skin put you in a frenzy and turned you on even more. you moaned loudly as you nodded.

“you’re taking me so well,” yeonjun said, hands grabbing your hips and pushing them down into the pillow. he increased his pace, the lewd sounds growing louder with every thrust. “gonna fuck your pretty pussy full of my cum and make you feel so good you’ll be crying my name for the rest of the month.”

his hands on your hips prevented you from rolling them up towards him, but it didn’t stop the way you back arched off your sheets. loud moans fell from your parted lips and yeonjun leaned down you kiss you, cock still thrusting into you. you moaned against his mouth from the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. “don’t stop,” you breathed, arms wrapping around his neck.

“trust me, i don’t intend to,” yeonjun said huskily. a moan parted from him and you could feel the rope in your stomach tighten. “your pretty little pussy is gonna stay wrapped around my cock all night.”

you hands pulled at the tips of his hair as you clenched down hard against him. yeonjun pulled away from your lips, a whimper leaving his mouth as he looked down between your bodies. “fuck,” he muttered in a low whine and his hands moved up your body and to your breasts. he grabbed at them as you rocked your hips upwards.

you were a whimpering mess underneath him, and if he wasn’t making you feel so good right now you’d be a bit embarrassed by how desperate you felt clawing at his skin and pulling at his hair. your body moved on it’s own as you tried to gain the most pleasure that you possibly could. your head dug into your pillow and your back arched so high that there was no need for the pillow underneath your hips because you were practically floating. 

“please…” you trailed, eyes rolling backwards briefly as heavy breaths pushed past your lips. you were so, so close. you felt so good that you could see stars again.

“shh, shh, shh,” yeonjun shushed you, his face in your neck leaving soft kisses. “i got you, baby. just let go.”

with one perfectly timed roll of your hips your body shook as the rope inside you snapped. you cried out as your release started to pour out of you and leave a white ring around yeonjun’s cock. he groaned at the sight, still thrusting into you, and your body felt limp and heavy. you started to squirm and yeonjun moved your legs from his waist and pinned them to your chest.

“shit, look at how pretty,” he almost laughed as he watched his cock disappear inside of you and reappear covered in cum. “and it’s all for me. my good girl, you made such a mess.”

your skin slapping against his, sticky with cum, sent you over the edge. you were torn between wanting more of him and wanting to push him away from all the overstimulation. it was all too much and you dug your fingers into your blanket. “jjunie,” you cried out in a gasp, your tongue heavy in your mouth, “c-can’t…”

yeonjun fucked deeper into you, amazed at your glistening pussy and your arousal for him. he hit just the right place that had you crying out more for him. he firmly held onto the back of your knees that were pressed to your chest as he trailed his gaze up your body. “just a little more, sweetheart. you can handle it.”

he threw his head back, his eyes fluttering closed, as he completely lost himself in you. you were taking him so good he never wanted to leave. all he wanted was to keep you like this, his hard cock buried deep inside of you as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from your shaking body. he wanted to fill you up with so much of his cum that it flowed like a river out of you when he did finally pull himself out. you were everything he wanted—everything he needed, and more. and he never wanted to let you go ever again.

yeonjun buried himself completely inside you, barely pulling out before trying to bury himself deeper into you. he moaned loudly as he looked down at your spent body, you were fucked out of you pretty little mind and he was close to it. white ropes of cum shot inside you until it had no choice but to squeeze out from around yeonjun’s thick cock. yeonjun blissfully exhaled, his firm grip on you loosening.

leaning towards you, he fixed your crooked and slightly fogged up glasses that fell down your nose bridge. yeonjun’s chest rose and fell heavily as he smiled at you, kissing you deeply. “good, babygirl. you did very good for me,” he murmured before pressing his lips to the sensitive marks he left on your skin. you felt his smile when you shivered slightly. “do you feel good?”

you felt as he shallowly thrusted into you, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot again. your voice caught in your throat as you clung to him and nodded. you felt your legs shake even more. yeonjun just chuckled, his nose dragging along your jaw before he pulled away. “good. let me make you feel even better.”

yeonjun slowly pulled out of you, watching the way his cum spilled out of your spent cunt and down the curve of your ass. he took his thumb and pushed it back into you, eyes twinkling. you whined from his actions and squirmed to the side but yeonjun held you in place.

suddenly, he buried two of his fingers into you. you gasped, “can’t t-take anymore!” your eyes screwed shut. yeonjun pumped his fingers inside you at a rapid pace and held your body in place with his other hand. “do you want me to stop?” he asked as his fingers curled inside you.

you cried out, voice almost a hoarse scream as you quickly shook your head. “n-no!” yeonjun hummed in satisfied response.

loud, squelching sounds bounced off the walls of your room from your wet pussy. you felt like you were gonna black out the closer yeonjun’s fingers brought you to another orgasm. you shook so hard and moaned so loud that it felt like your body had a mind of its own. suddenly, your brows drew together and you tried to quickly push yeonjun away from you.

it was too late. liquid sprayed from you and all over yeonjun. your body went limp as you went from shaking all over to trembling. yeonjun froze, his fingers still inside of you. you didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed at the fact that you just squirted all over him.

yeonjun’s eyes were wide as they trailed over your body. then his face brightened into a prideful and smug expression, the corners of his mouth raising. “fuck, baby, that was so hot.” he was practically beaming as he pulled his fingers from you, hand completely wet. you whimpered at the loss, eyes closing.

he wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you up. “come on, babygirl. let’s get you cleaned up before i make you do that again.”

after getting you and your sheets all cleaned up, the two of you laid in your bed—half naked—as your lips moved in sync in a slow kiss. you were basically pinned to yeonjun and the more the two of you kissed, the closer he pressed you against him. you both didn’t even realize that it had been hours and it was already deep into the night until it clicked in your brain that you had a busy schedule tomorrow.

you didn’t want to say anything, though, because that meant that yeonjun would leave soon. you didn’t want him to go. you were afraid that if he did the illusion would be shattered—that none of what happened tonight was actually real and you made it all up in your despairing sadness.

it seemed that yeonjun remembered, unfortunately. he pulled away from your lips, moving the two of you so that you had some space and weren’t pinned to him anymore. “i gotta go, baby.” his face showed that he wanted to do anything but that.

he sat up and moved to stand, but before he could you grabbed his wrist. with a look full of sorrow and desperation, you said, “stay… don’t go.”

yeonjun paused and looked back at you—really looked at you. he saw all the cracks inside you that he caused, every single last one. he saw the glassy tears start to form in your eyes.

he was determined to mend them all—determined to make you whole again.

yeonjun turned back towards you, nodding. he leaned down to take off your glasses and sat them on your nightstand. he then reached over to your lamp and shut it off, basking the two of you into darkness. then, he climbed back into the bed with you and pulled you close to his chest.

in the morning, you woke up before he did. sunlight filtered through your blinds and made his orange hair look even more bright and saturated. gently, you reached up and took on of the blonde streaks between your fingers before dropping it and moving closer to him.

you were shocked that yeonjun was still here in the bed next to you, that this wasn’t all a dream like you thought it was. he was actually here with you. you heart fluttered in your chest and all you could do was stare adoringly at him.

you didn’t realize that you must’ve been staring for a while because suddenly yeonjun’s sleepy voice filled your ears. “i can feel you staring,” he said groggily.

embarrassment filled you, but you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. yeonjun cracked an eye open before his face scrunched together from the bright light of the sun. “god, why is it so fucking bright in here?” he complained.

you giggled at his reaction and his arms snaked around you and pulled you to him. yeonjun buried his face into your neck to shield himself from the sunshine. “you should probably get use to the daylight,” you smiled, “‘cause i think we’re late for our morning classes.” yeonjun just groaned.

he peeked his head out to look at you. “hey…” he trailed off, eyes darting away from you hesitantly. you furrowed your brows. “yeah?” you replied.

yeonjun inhaled sharply and it looked like he was trying to find the right words to say. “i should’ve said it earlier—should’ve said it that night. but… i just didn’t know what it all meant.” you looked at him confused, urging him to go on. yeonjun sighed and turned away from you to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes. he then turned back to you, brows drawn together. “i… i don’t just like you,” he started it, “i’m in love with you.”

your eyes widened and your heart soared out of your chest. you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face. “really?” you asked, voice small. “you’re not just saying that?”

yeonjun fully turned back to you and cupped your cheek with his hand. he nodded, “i mean it. i’m not just saying it just to say it.”

you searched his eyes for a moment, looking for any hint of a lie but all you saw was sincerity. you then moved forward and pressed your lips to his. “well, you already know how i feel…” you trailed, pulling away from his lips ever so slightly.

yeonjun laughed, “i do.” his lips met your again and it was everything you ever needed. never again did you want another starless night, not when yeonjun makes your skies so full of stars.

you were leaving your class and crossing the campus when a hand intertwined with yours. you looked over and yeonjun smiled down at you, walking alongside you. you were still a little shocked at the public display despite the fact that it’s been a couple of days.

yeonjun pressed a kiss to your cheek. “walk with me?” he asked. “i want you to meet my friends.”

you both slowed to a stop and you looked at him with wide eyes, causing him to laugh. “they’re cool, i promise!” you looked around nervously. what if after all of this they didn’t like you? that yeonjun was right to initially keep your—then—secret relationship from them? you sighed, nodding a little, “o-okay…”

he pulled you in a different direction and in the distance you saw a small group of people hanging around. your heart thumped more and more the closer you got to them. when you stood in front of them, hand in hand with yeonjun, you gave them a nervous smile. “guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n,” yeonjun introduced you.

you smiled and waved awkwardly. all of their faces lit up, which you weren’t expecting. yeonjun’s friend with long brown hair half covering his eyes gave you a triumphant smile and held out a stripped arm warmer covered hand to one of the other boys. “i called it! you owe me forty bucks!” the other boy grumbled as he dug into his bag.

one of the girls stepped up to you and yeonjun, mostly smiling at you. she wore a black, frilly dress and had on stark black and white makeup. “i knew this months ago!” she said and her eyes darted towards yeonjun. you both gave her a confused look. “you weren’t exactly subtle with all the sneaking around you were doing,” she said to yeonjun. “you literally couldn’t take your eyes off her no matter how hard you tried. like a puppy waiting for it’s owner to come back home.”

you and yeonjun glanced at each other with wide eyes.

yeonjun awkwardly laughed at being exposed and pulled you into his side. he looked down at you and you could see the slight embarrassment in his eyes as you raised an eyebrow at him. “ignore her,” he said, waving a hand in the air. “i don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“like a puppy waiting for it’s owner,” you repeated slowly, amused. “you didn’t tell me you missed me that much!”

“oh, i like her!” the girl said. you smiled at her and she linked your arm with hers and pulled you away from yeonjun, introducing you to more of the group. you looked over your shoulder at yeonjun, who was getting teased by his friends, just as he looked up at you. he gave you a fond smile.

he was so not living all of this down.

∿ [ continue on to . . . part one , masterlist , taglist ] ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

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[hoe4hotchner]

False Security | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader CW: Angst, physical abuse, kidnapping, captivity, hospital, light use of Y/N, hotch is in love with you, r is only wearing underwear, chains, morphine. WC: 2.6k

           The bullpen was eerily quiet for a late evening. Papers were scattered across desks, half-empty coffee cups forgotten in the rush of trying to piece together the puzzle of the case they were working on.

           The tension in the conference room was palpable - each agent hunched over their work, mentally and emotionally drained from the brutal reality of the case. Every passing hour without a breakthrough weighed heavily on the team.

           Garcia had moved from her tech cave to stay near the rest of the team. Something about this case, the brutality of it, had shaken her, she wasn't her usual cheerful self. Her fingers tapped anxiously against her keyboard, eyes darting between monitors, scanning data, hoping for a clue - anything that would help them find the unsub before another victim was claimed.

           Hotch stood near the whiteboard, staring at the photos pinned up - the faces of victims staring back at him, haunting him. There was a pattern here; they all knew it. They could feel it. But none of them had been able to put the final piece together yet. Everyone was running on fumes.

           "Garcia," Hotch’s voice broke the silence, low but with the familiar edge of urgency. "Pull up the financials again. There’s something we’re missing."

           Garcia nodded, already typing, her colorful nails clicking rapidly against the keys. But even she seemed distracted, her brow furrowed in worry. She wasn’t just focused on the case anymore - she was thinking about you. About how you had been recently, about the relationship you had confided in her about a few weeks ago. A relationship that seemed to be bringing you joy, a brightness that Garcia had been happy to see. But now… something about this case was stirring up an unsettling feeling in her chest.

           Reid was standing across from her, his eyes darting across the case files, muttering half-thoughts under his breath. Morgan was pacing, unable to sit still, his frustration growing with each dead end.

           Then, it happened.

           Garcia’s fingers stopped, hovering above the keyboard. The silence in the room grew thicker as everyone waited for her to speak. She was staring at her screen, but the bright color had drained from her face. Slowly, almost as if she didn’t believe it herself, she turned in her chair, wide eyes meeting Hotch’s.

           "Sir," her voice was trembling. "You need to see this."

           Hotch’s stomach dropped at her tone, something was off. He crossed the room in quick strides, looking over her shoulder at the screen. The room held its collective breath, all eyes now on them. Garcia was scrolling through the financials, linking transactions, showing a pattern of behavior that had gone unnoticed until now. At first, it seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. Just a name, a routine list of purchases. But then it hit him. A familiar name.

           Hotch froze. His heart slammed against his ribs, dread flooding his veins.

           “No,” he breathed, disbelief clouding his thoughts.

           Garcia turned, biting her lip. Her fingers trembled as she pointed to the screen. “It’s him, Sir,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “It’s… it’s (Y/N)'s boyfriend.”

           The words hung in the air, heavy, suffocating. Everyone stared, the weight of Garcia’s revelation hitting them like a freight train. Morgan stopped pacing, Reid’s muttering ceased, and Rossi’s eyes darkened as he stood from his desk.

           "Are you sure?" Hotch’s voice was low, but the tension in his tone was unmistakable.

           Garcia nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “I cross-referenced his name with the locations. He fits every single one of the victim’s timelines, and… the patterns match. It’s him, Hotch.”

           For a moment, no one moved. It was as if the very air in the room had thickened, weighing them all down. Hotch felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him. His chest tightened painfully, his mind racing with fear and anger. How could they have missed this? How could he have missed this?

           Morgan was the first to break the silence, his voice sharp and filled with disbelief. “Wait, (Y/N)’s dating this guy?” His eyes darted between Garcia and Hotch, trying to piece it together. “How long has this been going on?”

           “A couple of months,” Garcia whispered, guilt washing over her at the mere fact that she knew about your relationship. “She… she didn’t want anyone to know. But… I thought he was just a regular guy.”

           Rossi was already moving toward his phone. "Has anyone contacted her?"

           Hotch’s blood ran cold. He reached for his phone, his fingers fiddling slightly as he dialed your number. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Straight to voicemail.

           Panic settled in his chest like a stone.

           “Garcia, try to ping her phone,” he ordered his voice tight, betraying the rising anxiety within him.

           “I’m on it,” she replied, her fingers moving across the keyboard in a blur. The seconds dragged on like hours as she tried to locate your phone. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “It’s off.”

           Morgan swore under his breath, his fists clenched. “We have to find her. Now.”

           Hotch felt a surge of terror, unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. His thoughts were racing— Where were you? Were you okay? Did you even know what kind of danger you were in? The idea that the person you had trusted, had been intimate with, was the same monster they were hunting - it made his skin crawl. And now, they couldn’t reach you.

           Garcia's voice broke through the haze. “I’ve got his phone,” she said, her voice shaking with urgency. “It’s pinging at a location near the docks - an old warehouse district.”

           Hotch didn’t waste another second. He was out the door before anyone could speak, his mind focused on one thing - finding you. His heart pounded in his chest, each step toward the SUV filled with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between you two. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

          The warehouse loomed ahead, its shadowy silhouette stark against the faint glow of the city. Inside, the darkness was suffocating, every echo, every creak of the metal beams overhead seeming to mock the haste coursing through Hotch's veins. He moved quickly, his heart pounding in his chest as he led the team deeper into the labyrinth of hallways and empty rooms, desperate to find you before it was too late.

           The dread that had been building since Garcia's revelation gnawed at him with every step. The idea that you, his agent, the person he trusted and admired, had been caught in the web of this monster - he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It felt personal in a way that made his throat tighten, made his focus even sharper. This wasn’t just a case anymore; it was about you, about saving you from someone who had fooled them into a false security.

           A soft, muffled whimper reached his ears, freezing him in place. It was faint but unmistakable. His breath hitched as he sprinted toward the sound, every part of him terrified of what he might find. He shoved open a rusted metal door, and the sight that greeted him ripped the air from his lungs.

           There you were, barely recognizable, hanging limply by your wrists, your arms shackled high above your head. The light flickered, casting shadows over your bruised and battered body. You were gagged, your face pale and streaked with tears, your eyes barely open, glazed with pain and fear. Your skin was marred with fresh bruises, and all you were left wearing was your underwear - vulnerable, exposed, and utterly broken.

           Hotch’s world tilted. He had faced horrors in his career, and seen things that haunted his dreams, but nothing compared to the sight of you, the person he had come to care for, reduced to this.

           For a split second, all he could do was stand there, frozen by the crushing wave of guilt and anger crashing over him. How could he have let this happen? How had he not seen it, not realized who the unsub was?

           “Morgan!” Hotch's voice was sharp. “Find him. Now.” He couldn't be far away Hotch thought to himself.

           Without waiting for a reply, Hotch crossed the room to you, his hands trembling as he reached up to unchain your wrists. You collapsed into his arms, your body weak and trembling from the strain. He held you close, his jacket already off and wrapping around your shivering form. His chest tightened painfully as he felt just how cold you were, how fragile you felt in his arms.

           “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “You’re safe now.”

           You stirred, barely able to focus, but the sound of his voice - his voice - cut through the haze of terror that had clouded your mind. Your eyes fluttered open, a tear slipping down your cheek as you realized it was him. You tried to speak, but the gag choked you, the duct tape biting into your skin.

           Hotch's fingers were delicate as he reached up to remove the tape. Every inch he peeled back felt agonizingly slow, each movement careful, as if he were terrified of causing you more pain. His eyes never left yours, the guilt and worry etched deep into his features.

           When the gag finally came loose, you gasped, drawing in shaky breaths as your mouth was freed. Your voice came out in a weak rasp, “Aaron…”

           “Shh,” he murmured, brushing the hair from your face with a tenderness that made your chest ache. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

           But you could see it in his eyes. The guilt. The anger. It radiated off him, a storm barely contained beneath the surface. He blamed himself, you knew that much. And though you wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have known, your voice was too weak, your body too drained.

           Hotch wrapped his arms tighter around you, his face buried in your hair as he whispered, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there sooner.”

           His words broke something inside you, a sob tearing from your throat despite your exhaustion. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that you didn’t blame him, but all you could do was cling to him, your body shaking against his.

           You had been so close to losing everything - to never seeing him again. And now, in the safety of his arms, the adrenaline began to fade, leaving behind the raw emotion and terror that you had been holding back.

           “I’ve got you,” he whispered again, his voice barely a rasp. He held you tighter as if he could shield you from the world, from the pain, from everything you had just endured.

           He didn’t care about protocol, didn’t care that he was supposed to be in control, to remain objective. All he cared about was you, about getting you out of there and keeping you safe.

           When the paramedics arrived, Hotch didn’t let go. He carried you to the ambulance himself, refusing to leave your side for even a moment. The other agents worked around him, searching for your captor, but Hotch didn’t care about anything else right now. He stayed by your side as you were lifted into the ambulance, sitting beside you, his hand holding yours as if it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.

           The soft, sterile lighting of the hospital room contrasted with the cold, harsh reality of what had just happened. The beeping machines were rhythmic and steady, peaceful, a constant reminder that you were alive, even though the events leading up to this moment had been anything but peaceful.

           Hotch sat beside your bed, his hand wrapped protectively around yours, his thumb brushing back and forth along your knuckles in a soothing motion. He hadn’t left your side since they’d arrived at the hospital. The team had stayed behind to deal with the crime scene and the unsub, but Hotch had only one priority: you. His suit jacket now hung loosely on the back of his chair, as your bruised body had been hidden away by the hospital gown.

           You shifted slightly in the bed, your eyes fluttering open but still hazy from the morphine coursing through your veins. The medication had dulled the pain but also left you in a dreamy, disoriented state. Everything felt far away, like you were underwater, and the world around you was muffled. But there was one constant, something anchoring you to reality - Hotch.

           “Hotch…” your voice was barely above a whisper, the name slipping from your lips without much strength behind it. You tried to sit up, but your body protested, still sore and weak. Hotch’s grip on your hand tightened gently, his other hand pressing softly against your shoulder to keep you from moving too much.

           “Shh, don’t try to move. The doctor said you need to rest,” he said, his voice low and calm, but underneath it was a storm of emotions - relief, fear, anger. He tried to keep it together for you, but seeing you like this - bruised, shaken, and vulnerable - it broke something inside him.

           You blinked up at him, trying to focus. His face came into view, a mixture of exhaustion and concern etched into his features. “You... you came for me,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred from the medication, but the gratitude in your tone was unmistakable.

           Hotch’s heart clenched at the sound of your voice, so small and fragile. He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Of course I did,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll always come for you.”

           You smiled faintly, the corners of your lips tugging upwards despite the pain and exhaustion. There was something about his presence that made everything feel just a little bit better, a little safer.

           Your eyes flickered around the room before landing back on him, and with a sleepy giggle, you whispered, “You look so serious, Hotch.”

           A soft chuckle escaped him, the sound rare but welcome, especially given the circumstances. “Someone has to be,” he teased, though his voice was still gentle. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch feather-light. “You’ve been through a lot.”

           You hummed, your eyelids growing heavy again, but you fought to stay awake, to stay in this moment with him. “Feel so... floaty,” you mumbled, your words trailing off slightly. The medication was pulling you back under again.

           Hotch smiled softly, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “That’s the morphine. It’s okay to rest, you’re safe now.”

           For a moment, you simply stared up at him, your eyes glazed but full of warmth. “You’re always so... good to me,” you slurred, your voice thick with drowsiness. “Don’t know what I’d do without you…”

           His heart ached at your words. He couldn’t imagine what you had gone through, only what he already knew the unsub usually would have done, but the thought of you feeling alone or scared crushed him. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

           You gave him a sleepy nod, your head lolling slightly to the side. “I know,” you mumbled, your voice fading as sleep finally began to pull you under.

           Hotch leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. He didn’t care that the hospital staff had insisted he take a break or go home and get some rest. He wasn’t leaving your side, not tonight. Not until he was absolutely sure you were okay.

           As your breathing evened out and your body relaxed into the bed, he sat back, watching you with a mix of compassion and sadness. Seeing you like this, so vulnerable and hurt, made him feel more helpless than he ever had before.

[jarofstyles]

Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

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WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

[buggachat]

im gonna be honest i think the "adrien being a sentimonster was randomly thrown in season 4 with no planning on the writers' part" theory is really funny. like the writers of this show are just so bad at their job and so stupid that they tripped and fell in season 1 episode mr pigeon and accidentally spilled "a strange relationship to feathers" all over adrien by accident. they stubbed their toe on the coffee table and accidentally set up a mystery surrounding emilie's relationship to a feathery miraculous in season 1 volpina before we even knew what its powers were. then they spilled coffee all over their favorite shirts and at the same time spilled more white feathers around adrien in season 2 episode gorizilla. while writing the same episode someone had a really nasty sneeze and got boogers all over the script that said "use the imagery of two twin rings intertwined as the opener for the film of adrien's dead mother". they forgot to look both ways before crossing the street while writing the season 2 finale and were struck by a truck labeled "the peacock miraculous gives life" and then by a second truck with the license plate "it does so using white feathers identical to the white feathers that surround adrien in his ads" at the same time. they plummeted down an open manhole and hit the ground with a loud whack that sounded like "sentimonsters like bugette are just as real as any human..... and isn't bugette so...... perfect?" in season 3. on their way to the hospital they slipped on ice that had frozen in such a way to perfectly resemble the sentence "the word 'perfect' is consistently used throughout the series and by the creator ominously to denote how characters like adrien and kagami are 'different from everyone else', ever since season 1 episode simon says". during season 3 someone on the team got food poisoning and when they threw up felix came out instead and started another whacky series of comedic errors. the answer to the mystery of "how and why did emilie die? what life did adrien's loving mother create that she was willing to die for?" was originally gonna be "idk maybe she just exploded or somehting" probably, but then there was a really painful rock in one of the writers' shoes while walking to work that put them in a mood so bad that they forgot their original plan and instead made some bullshit up that somehow ended up being something that made sense with what we knew and put all the puzzle pieces together and actually made the show even more interesting and impactful on a rewatch because it put a lot of shots that at the time seemed random into a new and logical perspective as clear foreshadowing. it's actually impressive how stupid these silly clown writers are that they put strangely specific things so consistently throughout the entire series that resembled foreshadowing while never actually having intended it a single time! like........... really.......... really impressive............... i think..............

[monstersholygrail]

I know that dominating and intimidating monsters with a nice little sarcastic streak are hot and all, we love them and wanna fuck them, but can I also get some nerd monsters?

Like I just want a little nerd. I also want monsters who are just total dorks over their special interests and they share that with you in their own excitable ways.

Minotaur bf who’s a total dork over puzzles and games. You’ll come out into the living room at midnight, seeing the bed was empty, and you’ll find him sitting under the singular light of the dining table. Totally hunched over his almost finished puzzle that he started earlier that day. Then during game nights he’s an absolute best. You swear he’s the most competitive monster you’ve ever met. Winning round after round, chasing that high until he finally snaps and throws the board game off the table and you on it so he can celebrate his victory properly.

Orc bf who’s a fanatic about collecting weapons. He has all sorts of antique guns and swords. Many that you don’t even remember the name of and yet you can recite its entire history bc your bf will drone on and on about it. Whenever he gets a new weapon he gives you an entire tour of his collection room, showing you how he’s moved everything around to highlight his new weapon. You can’t help but find him painstakingly hot as he handles it and you make your interest known to him. His eyes darken, catching onto your meaning and suddenly you’ve replaced the weapon on the platform but he quickly returns it to its place as he fucks you with the handle, rambling about its many uses.

Dragon bf who’s hyperfixated on the quality of jewels and gold. He’s studied the art of jewelry making and blacksmithing. He can tell you the grade of a diamond just by glance, not even needing equipment to check. He loves to combine his two favorite things the most. You and the rest of his treasures. Adorning you with only his finest jewels and nothing else. Liking most how they barely cover anything up yet make your body shine like the angel you are. He almost can’t help himself as he throws you down onto his hoard and ruts into you, watching the jewels sway and bounce on your delectable body.

Werewolf bf who’s a complete gym bro and knows everything there is to know about fitness. He knows the perfect forms to every exercise you could think of, he’s memorized all the benefits to each individual piece of equipment, and he can tell you how best to maximize your time in the gym. Not that he ever would, respecting your level of interest or disinterest in the gym. He knows it’s more his thing and he’s happy you simply coming along with him to use the sauna for members only… and their guests. He loves the burn and the freedom of the run as he works out and releases that energy. But what he loves more is coming into the empty sauna after he’s done and making you both work up a real sweat as he takes you on the bench, the wet squelch of your joining bodies echoing off the walls.

[cliosunshine]

Thinking about wearing promise rings with Jason...

Warning: NSFW at the end

you got the idea of buying matching promise rings after scrolling too far on Pinterest on a lazy day and seeing a post with a couple wearing puzzle pieces promise rings

you fell in love with the idea and knowing your first year anniversary with Jason was coming up, you wanted to surprise him

now, getting his ring size wasn't the easiest task as he was always on alert, even when asleep. you had to trick him with a silly string game to finally get it

hiding your excitement was even worse

he could read right through you, but chose not to comment on the way you looked at his hands with a goofy smile on your face and sighed to yourself before returning to your current task

the date eventually came and you were an anxious wreck

you started to second guess every decision you had made

was the ring too much? maybe he would think that the heart shape was too childish. maybe he didn't like wearing rings-

you hadn't even gotten that physical yet, deciding to take things slow as relationships in general were something fairly new for the both of you

what if you were overstepping and he saw the ring as an oppressive symbol of ownership and forced commitment instead of a declaration of love and loyalty?

but his reaction to it couldn't have surprised you more

you had spent a wonderful day with Jason, going to a museum exhibition you had been keeping your eyes on for weeks and then having a picnic in Gotham Park, basking all the sunlight you could get even on a winter day. the two of you drank hot chocolate and held hands like two teenagers in love.

you lived for these days, where you could admire Jason being so carefree and appreciate the small things in life.

you may or may not have taken a dozen candid photos of him.

jason had been all smiles throughout the whole day, so after eating the dinner you had cooked together in your apartment, silence settling for the first time that day between the two of you, you got nervous real quick.

"you alright, sweetheart?"

his gaze was on you the whole time. you were cuddled up next to one another on the couch, a thick sherpa blanket over your bodies. you didn't look away from the tv, the show playing wasn't that good but you couldn't dare to look at him, suddenly shy.

"mh mh, everything's ok honeybun"

he chuckled at the pet name but didn't relent, tilting your chin with two of his fingers so that you would meet his gaze.

physical touch was something fairly new between the two of you. although you had been dating for a year now, you respected Jason's boundaries that he had set up right at the beginning, and both of you were taking small steps to slowly overcome them. so far, you had managed to make him feel at ease with holding hands, hugging him, and cuddling. he was still coming to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him to touch you and wanted him in your space.

this week you got close to kissing, but you were quick to reassure him when he freaked out, apologising for not being ready.

you were there for him, and you wanted to show him.

so him initiating physical touch? oh yeah, that was a big step, alright.

you released a shaky breath, looking away, "I really want to give you something, love"

Jason loosened the grip he had on your chin and rested his hand on his lap, a faint blush covering the top of his ears and cheeks. he looked so pretty with the warm lamp light casting golden hues on his flustered face.

"Oh, yeah?" you nodded, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his slightly bruised knuckles.

you got up, going to your room to retrieve the small velvet box you had meticulously picked in the jewellery shop in Gotham Heights.

you returned and sat on the couch, pulling both of your knees to your chest, holding the box in between your legs and your torso for dear life.

"I've been thinking about us, Jay, and I love how much progress we've made in our relationship in just one year," your eyes were going teary as you smiled at him. Jason could only look at you as you paused, gears clearly turning in his head.

"I want to be there for you. I want to know more of you as our relationship progresses. Before even starting dating, we'd been friends for a good couple of years and I've been grateful that you allowed me to come into your life and let me have a look at your soul, slowly trusting me to get closer and closer to you. This- this gift I have for you- I don't want you to see it for something that it wasn't meant to be in the first place. This gift to you is a promise that I'm making you. It's a promise that I'll be by your side because I want to, and it is in no way, shape, or form a way to hold you down or force you to some form of bond you're not ready for yet. I love you, Jason, and I hope you will love this gift, too"

With tears running down your cheeks, you pried the small bow open and presented the two silver rings in the inside.

Jason was holding onto your left hand the entire time, looking at you with wide eyes and suddenly feeling like his heart was caught up in his throat.

he lowered his haze onto the rings and subconsciously squeezed your hand tighter.

there were two rings in the box. one of them was daintier than the other and had a plain heart in the middle of it, while the other one was thicker in width and had the same heart, this time cut out so it would accodomate the first ring.

jason held back tears as he looked at you.

"these are for us?"

you nodded with a laugh, wiping the remaining tears on your face. you were amused at the starstruck look on his face. all he could do was look between you and the rings and squeeze your hands.

"do you like them? I was worried the heart shape would have been too childish...if they are it's ok I can go change them for another pair of rings. or if you don't like wearing rings at all it's ok, I'm sorry I should have really asked you about it, I know it's a lot-"

the feeling of Jason's chapped lips on yours shut you up. with wide eyes, you tried to understand what was going on before shutting them tightly and melting against his lips, pulling him closer. it only lasted a couple of seconds, but as you pulled away, you felt as if all of your breath had been sucked out of your lungs. he had soft lips, and the thought of what just happened made your head spin.

jason, too, seemed to be in a haze if his blushing face was anything to go by. he rested his forehead against yours, pulling in closer, "I love them."

you were so flustered you couldn't speak. instead, with a very wide smile and a lovestruck expression on your face, you picked up his ring, prompting him to do the same with yours.

you started to read the engraving inside of it - better yet, you were reciting it while looking at him.

"You are my heart, my life,-"

jason was quick to catch on, completing the quote.

"-my one and only thought."

now both of you were sporting goofy grins as you leaned in and exchanged a chaste kiss.

Jason looked at the engraving, smiling to himself, "Conan Doyle, uh?"

you chuckled as you curled up at his side, resting your head on his shoulder, "mh mh. It was the first book you had recommended me after I declared my undying hatred for historical adventures,"

he kissed the top of your head, pulling you even closer than imaginable, "you wanna do the honours?"

you gingerly held your (his) ring up and took his left hand, sliding it on his ring finger and then kissing it.

he did the same, this time holding eye contact with you as he kissed the ring and you swore you heard fireworks explode in your head at how in love you were with him that moment.

from that day on, neither of you took your rings off

the only time it wasn't on Jason's finger was when he went on patrol, opting to wear it by hanging it on the silver chain he always had around his neck

it also had become an habit of his to kiss you and then kiss the ring on his hand before heading out on patrol, symbolising a promise of coming back to you by the end of the night

he also started fidgeting with it during stakeouts and when he felt anxious, realising that it brought him an immense sense of calm by having a reminder of you and your love on him

but when he wasn't on patrol he would always, and i mean always wear it on his finger

he was honestly more excited than you were to show it off to everybody

Dick was low-key jealous to not have had something like that with Kory

what jason loved the most tho was when you'd put your heart through his

the first time that you did it was when the two of you were splayed out on the couch, enjoying a slow Sunday morning in blissed silence

he was reading a book and slowly felt you tugging his left hand towards you

he let you at first, without looking at what you were doing, but then when he heard you giggle to yourself, he promptly turned his head

and he thanked every God in existence for that because as he did, he caught you piecing the two hearts together, giggling as you two were now ring finger to ring finger

He felt so ashamed after you left, his ears and throat flushed pink as he jerked off to the image of the rings fitting perfectly together.

Jason chanted your name in a breathy whisper as he stroked his cock with his left hand, moaning shamelessly as the ring glinted under the low lights of his apartment and imagining it was your hand and your ring touching him while whispeing sweet nothings in his ears. The mental image was enough to send him over the edge and make him cum all over his hand, coating the ring in the process.

Jason whined as he threw his head back, his whole body trembling.

he thought about what it would look like when you two will be ready to have sex for the first time.

he thought about intertwining your hands together as he slid into you for the very first time and what faces you'd make, what pretty sounds he could manage to pull out of you.

he thought about seeing your ringed hand making its way across his body, and then his mind went foggy as he pictured his own hand wrapping around your throat, his ring resting against your skin creating such a beautiful contrast between the lovely heart shape and the downright nasty things he wanted to do to you.

safe to day, he wanted to see the rings slotting together more often

[artaxlivs]

Stiles always assumed that when Derek finally kissed him - because it has always felt inevitable - that it would be a boiling over of their anger. That Derek would throw Stiles into a wall or yell at Stiles after a monster fight and the kiss would be provoked by outrage. That it would be a violent meeting of tongues and teeth and groping, squeezing hands on every part of each other that they could reach. 

It would be a battle for dominance, a mess of conflicting emotions. Uncontrolled and undiscussed. That it would burn like a forest fire and either leave them both with nothing but ashes or ignite something that would consume them. 

He always assumed that a kiss from Derek would not be given, would not be shared. It would be wrenched from his tightly controlled fists and Stiles would have to fight for his right to keep it. 

But when it happens it’s nothing like that at all. When Derek finally kisses Stiles for the first time, it’s with laughter, rather than rage, in the space between them. 

When it happens - it’s with consent. 

Because Derek asks. Because of course he does. 

They’re on Derek’s couch, an empty pizza box on the coffee table. Derek, relaxed and comfortable, is sitting sideways with one knee bent between them. Stiles is sitting criss-cross with his socked feet tucked up under his knees. He’s just finished a story about one of the deputies trying to arrest Mrs. Riechton for shoplifting and getting beat up by the eighty-three year old woman and her giant purse. Her purse that was heavy with the five books of fairie porn she’d just stolen from the local Barnes & Noble. 

Derek is almost doubled over with laughter and Stiles has one hand across his stomach because it hurts from laughing. And suddenly it’s like the last puzzle piece has clicked into place. The last Lego in the build. The last push pin in a mind map. 

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s soft and filled with something like hope. Something like wonder. Like Derek can’t possibly believe that they made it this far. That they’ve somehow made it to a place where the answer might be yes. 

And it is. 

It really fucking is. 

Because Stiles has been in something with Derek since he was sixteen. In sexual crisis. In confused lust. In determined lust. In awkward friendship. In love. In all the stages of mutual respect. In love. 

So yes. Yes, please. Yes a million times in a million ways. 

Just. Yes. 

It’s not a soft and gentle kiss. It’s not bordering on aggressive like he’d always thought it would be. No, it’s somewhere in between. It’s sure and happy and hopeful - so hopeful. Just warm, soft lips at first but then tongues, too. Then one of them leans forward and one of them leans back and it’s everything.

They sink into the couch and into each other and the rest of the world fades into the background. Like everything from the last six years has been leading up to this moment. Every loss, every victory, every bullet wound and demonic possession, every step into danger and every step away from each other has still somehow brought them together. 

To this. 

To kissing with intention. 

“I think I always knew,” Derek says when they’re curled into each other's warmth later.

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees, not asking for clarification because he always knew, too. 

Some things are meant to be.

Edit: You can now find this on Ao3 here. There might be more someday, It's happened before.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

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