#this is a month or so after they get married
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plethorawrites · 1 day ago
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How long does it take them to get engaged and married???
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Bruce: Long time to get engaged, long time to get married. He's traditional, to an extent. And wanted to do things right. He takes a respectable amount of time to court you, publicly. To make sure his kids approve. To make sure your family approves. Hell, to make sure you approve. And then, it takes forever to plan the wedding. It has to be elaborate, an event the entire city gathers for since it will be on every magazine and news channel. But once it is happening, it's perfect. Of course.
Jason: Long time to get engaged, quick to get married. He's hesitant to even start dating and doubts anyone would ever put up with him long enough to want to live together, let alone marry him. But things, somehow, manage to go well and even though your relationship moves at a much much slower pace than other couples, once he knows for sure he wants to get married, he wants it to happen without any waiting. It's an elopement, obviously. If anyone, he'd reluctantly have his brother's and dad there with Alfred to officiate. The man can do anything.
Tim: Quick to get engaged, long time to get married. He's always had good instincts and knows immediately when you trust his gut. It had never told him that he'd found someone to spend forever with, but when it did, he knew it wasn't lying. He trusted himself. And he trusted you, too. Enough to propose right before or shortly after one year. That said, you don't need to rush into anything and don't start planning the wedding for another two or three years.
Dick: Long time to get engaged, quick to get married. He has bad luck in love, always falling hard and fast in a way that never lasts. So this time, he waits. A while. For an impatient man who's always moving, that's tough. But he manages. And once he knows for sure that your relationship is stable, he wants to be married as soon as possible. A decently large wedding, too. So he can show you off properly.
Damian: Quick to get engaged, quick to get married. He's always upfront about what he wants so it's understandable that he knew immediately he wanted to marry you. You weren't just a suitable match, you were perfect. Challenged him, supported him, knew him in every way. He proposes within six months, even though his whole family said not to. And you, not to his surprise, accept. His family tells him to wait to get married but you don't. The wedding, while extravagant, is quickly planned within the next three months after that. Few thought it would last given the lack of actual time during the relationship. But somehow, it does.
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major-gilneass · 1 day ago
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STORY TIME.
So I am from Kentucky. Literally smack dab in the middle of Tornado Alley. Well, I decided in my early 20s to drop out of the university I was in there (no, not that one...or that one) and pursue a career in audio engineering, and go to school in Arizona. (This would have been a great idea for my career except I also decided to marry my ex-husband right after graduating...I digress.)
ANYWAY, I worked for an eyeglass chain in Kentucky, and I transferred my job to a store in Arizona to have money for ramen noodles. (Rhymes with Fish 'n Twerks.) My year anniversary of working for the company came up, and since my manager hadn't been working with me for more than three months at that time, she had to call the previous manager.
In Kentucky.
During tornado season.
Arizona manager calls, Kentucky manager picks up and keeps trying to get off the phone because there is a FUCKING TORNADO TOUCHED DOWN ACROSS THE STREET and she needs to get in the back of the store away from the WINDOWS.
Yeah, the Arizona manager wouldn't let her off the phone, so the Kentucky manager just ended up hanging up. Like BRUH.
Also, I am now a veterinary assistant and don't even use my audio certifications. Good investment.
i've said this before but it's so crazy that some of you just grew up with tornadoes. if i saw one twister snake down from the clouds in front of my physical eyes i would become a mad priest for the rest of my life. and people from kansas are just like "lmao yeah that's why we had basement prom that one year" or whatevr
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babyboywilson · 2 days ago
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sitting on the couch, hands interlocked, with a mostly empty box of valentine’s chocolates balanced on cas’ thigh, dean squeezed cas’ hand softly.
4 years.
they’d been married 4 years.
dean didn’t even think he’d be able to manage 4 months in an actual relationship without pushing the other person away or running the other direction as quick as he could because commitment wasn’t his thing. but here cas was 4 years later. still sitting by dean’s side. still wearing the ring dean had slid onto his ring finger in front of their family. still loving dean more and more every day.
cas had showered dean with valentine’s and wedding anniversary gifts throughout the day. but dean was holding onto his gift for cas. waiting for the right moment to give it to him. they were sat watching an old western movie-one of dean’s favorites- but dean wasn’t paying attention. he was reflecting on their marriage. how they’d ended up here. how they were still married after 4 years.
there were good days and bad days. days where dean couldn’t stand looking at cas’ face and he stormed out the room and blasted his music as loud as it would go. days where cas would sleep on the couch because he refused to touch dean if dean was going to act like a dick. but the one thing they never did was walk out. they never left. they went as far as a couple rooms apart and that was it. they needed the reassurance that even when they were seething with rage, they could still find their way back to each other. they could still see each other and know they were there. because that fear that seeped in was undeniable. the fear clawed it’s way up dean’s throat - seeing cas dragged away by black ooze with no way for dean to save him. the despair cas felt of being completely alone with nothing but emptiness surrounding him and no way back to dean.
but there were good days too. and god, were they good. the way cas would surprise dean by cooking dean dinner on a random tuesday after dean had been out in the garage working on the impala for hours. dean stopping to get cas flowers on his way home from the grocery store just to see the fond smile on cas’ face. the absolutely tender way cas made love to him, so soft and gentle it tore dean’s heart apart and put it back together again brighter than ever. how cas would be walking down the hall with a basket of laundry and dean would snag the basket from his hands, press cas back against the wall, and make out with him until there were stars in cas’ eyes just because the angel was walking around in dean’s old sweatshirt and the sight was so good dean wanted to meld their souls together by kissing cas breathless.
it was worth it. the good and the bad. it was worth it all to have this beautiful angel by his side.
his husband.
cas squeezed dean’s hand back, breaking dean from his thoughts.
“what are you thinking about?” cas asked, dragging his thumb softly across the back of dean’s hand.
dean dragged his eyes away from the tv and over to cas. he hadn’t been watching anyway. he’d been too busy thinking about cas. “you,” he said simply.
“i’m right here,” cas said gently. the same way he always did when dean got lost in thought. that soft look was back on cas’ face again. the look of sheer adoration the angel got when he allowed dean to see and feel the love cas had for him.
finally, dean had found the right moment. with his free hand, he reached out and opened the drawer of the coffee table, pulling out a wooden box. a box he’d spent weeks carving himself in the garage. “happy valentine’s day,” dean said, placing the box into cas’ hand.
cas looked down at the box, then up to dean, and back down to the box. “that’s… there’s… where did you find a box with enochian on it?”
shaking his head, dean shifted cas’ fingers to trace over the enochian carved into the lid of the box. “i didn’t.”
cas’ eyebrows scrunched downwards in confusion, until he’d traced the last letter with his fingertip. ‘cas winchester.’
“you made this?”
dean nodded softly. “enochian is a bitch of a language to learn,” he said with a huff. guiding cas’ hand, he opened the box, revealing a carved wooden ring cushioned in the center of the box.
cas’ eyes filled with tears as he stroked his thumb over the ring. recognition dawned over his face a moment later as he translated the enochian. “that’s… our vows. you engraved our vows in enochian?”
all dean could do was nod. his throat suddenly felt thick with unshed tears and words seemed to fail him. slowly, cas slipped the ring from the box and slid it onto his ring finger above the gold band that dean had placed there 4 years ago. on their wedding day, dean had brought cas’ hand to his lips and kissed his finger where the ring sat. and he found himself copying the motion now; guiding cas’ hand up to his lips and placing a soft lingering kiss against the wooden ring on cas’ finger.
the look in cas’ eyes as he locked gazes with dean was so lovestruck that dean glanced away. too much love. too much devotion. it made dean feel like he was breaking apart; shattering into pieces in cas’ hands.
“dean,” cas murmured, reaching out and stroking his hand across dean’s jaw; tilting his head until cas could rest their foreheads together.
taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, dean whispered in enochian, “I love you, cas. happy anniversary.”
when their lips met in kiss, dean felt cas’ grace spark between them; healing dean and intertwining their love until it became one. “I love you, too.”
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traveler-at-heart · 12 hours ago
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Run, baby, run
Summary: Natasha is very competitive, and that includes your daughter.
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
Based on some real life events lol
Natasha was a lot of different things for many people. Depending on who you ask -friends, foes, family- she could be stubborn, deadly, relentless. To you she was kind, loving and supportive, in a way that no one else knew.
You would all agree on one thing, though.
Natasha was too competitive.
Being married for three years, you’d grown used to it. As a matter of fact, it could be entertaining especially if she was playing pool or darts against the boys.
But this morning, when she shows you the flyer, you actually have to look twice, sure that Natasha lost her mind.
“Baby crawl race?”
“Yeah, only for babies under one year. You know, they set a track and time them…”
“I mean, I figured. I just… why would we want Anya to do that?”
Your daughter perks up when she hears her name being called and you both smile.
Anya is ten months old, but she’s way advanced for her age. It must be Natasha’s genes, because you’re sure that before she turns one, she will be walking or even running after her other mother.
“It sounds fun”
“And winning has nothing to do with it?” you press, reading about the prizes. “Everything listed here are things we already have. A stroller, a crib… ooh, a formula machine, fancy”
“We can still register if we leave now” Natasha picks up Anya from her playpen, and the sight of their matching red hair melts your heart as usual.
“Fine. We better get going”
To your surprise, there are over a dozen babies registered to compete. Natasha takes care of everything as you walk around the store where they’re hosting the event.
She comes back with a smile and a little paper with the number 17 on it.
“Your lucky number” she smiles at you, taking Anya in her arms.
You both watch as other kinds play and stumble around the mat. Most of them seem younger than your daughter, and only a few look close to being one year.
“That one’s gonna be easy to beat” Natasha muses, looking at a small kid that can barely sit.
“Natalia” you slap her arm. “He’s a baby”
“No. They are all competition. And we have no mercy, right, detka?” Natasha insists, bouncing your daughter in her arms.
“Alright, I’m changing her diaper before everything gets crazier” you decide, noticing how there’s a crowd forming around the place where the kids will crawl.
You make small talk with some of the clerks, who seem excited at the prospect of a silly race that will entertain them in the middle of their shift.
By the time you return, Natasha’s quiet, looking at the parents and their children.
“Everything ok?”
“Perfect” she nods, taking Anya in her arms. “Now, kiddo, listen to me, we are Romanoffs. We are fighters and more importantly, winners. So go and make us proud”
Anya responds by giggling and pulling a strand of her mother’s hair. Natasha smiles, saying something in Russian and kissing Anya’s cheek.
The mat is split in half so only two kids can compete at the same time, a screen with a timer behind them.
As expected, some of the kids get distracted by their race mate or crawl around instead of going in a straight line.
“What did I tell you? We’re gonna crush the opponents” Natasha whispers and you slap her arm.
She’s taking this way too seriously.
As you stand next to some parents, Natasha sniffs around, speaking into Anya’s back.
“Baby, did you go potty?”
“I don’t think so” you know Anya frowns and makes a little grunt when she does number two and she’s been pretty quiet this whole time.
“Oh, never mind” she turns to the parents standing next to you. “Not ours, detka”
The parents hurry to the bathroom. There’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind when you notice how quiet Natasha is. It increases when the parents miss the race because they were stuck chaning a diaper.
Your wife tries to hide her smile, but there’s no way she planned this. Just a coincidence.
Right?
“Babies 10 and 11” the organizer calls. You noticed the girl is older than the other kids, standing out because she can close the distance faster.
“Best time has been 55 seconds. This should be interesting” Natasha comments.
Sure enough, the kid is about to finish when a bright blue ball crosses her path, getting her distracted and making her return to the start line.
The parents try to guide her back but it doesn’t work at all.
“Oh, well”
“Try not to look so happy about it” you whisper, but Natasha just chuckles and places a kiss in your temple.
After a few more minutes, it’s Anya’s turn. You carry her to the start line and Natasha kneels at the end of the mat, keeping her eyes focused on your daughter.
“Three, two, one. Go!”
All Natasha has to do is place her open palm on the mat. Anya’s seen her do it so many times and knows it means one thing: as soon as she touches her mama’s hand, she’ll throw her in the air the way she loves to.
It takes Anya 15 seconds to get to Natasha. Your wife rewards her with her favorite thing, and if it were anyone less graceful and quick, you’d be unnerved by the sight of your daughter kicking her feet while being lifted off the ground.
“Nicely done, pumpkin” you join them, smiling as Anya jumps to your arms.
“A worthy adversary, at last” a man comments as he takes his son to the race. “Let’s see if we can do it better than you”
“Doubt it” Natasha glares but you elbow her, smiling at the man.
“She meant to say, good luck. You’ll do great, sweetheart” you smile at his son, who waves back at you with wide eyes. He’s incredibly cute.
“Fraternizing with the enemy” Natasha tsks.
“He’s a baby, Nat”
“I didn’t like the way the father was looking at you either” Natasha grumbles, leaning forward to kiss you.
Definitely not complaining about her competitive streak now.
As your declared enemy gets ready to race, the father frantically looks around for something lost on their backpack.
“Did you bring it?” his wife insists.
“Yes! The purple elephant! We were playing with it a second ago!”
Apparently, that was their only resource, because the timer starts and their kid is focusing on everything but them.
They manage to finish after two minutes.
“Better luck next time” Natasha comments as they leave, her hand going around your waist.
She’s being so ridiculous but somehow you love it.
The winners are announced, and you cheer when the first place goes to none other than Anya Romanoff.
“Yes, baby. We are the champions” Natasha sings, bouncing her around. Anya has no idea what’s happening, but she’s enjoying the moment.
“Very nice” you comment when the organizers hand you the prize. “Good work, Anya. Keep it up and maybe we won’t have to pay for college”
“Of course she’ll get a scholarship. Or become a professional athlete. Or become president” Natasha says, walking back to the car.
“Oh, those are a lot of things. Maybe she’ll want to focus on just one”
“Nah, she’s got it. She’ll do it all” Natasha kisses Anya’s head and you can’t help but melt.
“Best thing you ever won?” you ask Natasha as you drive back home.
“No, that would be you” she says. “Of course, I mean the bet I made with Tony that I’d get you to date me over him”
“Ugh, you’re so ridiculous” you roll your eyes.
The excitement of the race exhausts your daughter, and she’s fast asleep by the time you get home.
You know this won’t last long, so you prepare her clothes to run a bath once she’s up.
As you’re going through her bag, you pull out a toy that’s definitely not Anya’s.
A purple elephant.
“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” you shout, looking for her.
“Oh-oh” Natasha mutters and clears her throat. “Yes, dear?”
“You took that baby’s toy!”
“I did not! Ok, I did. But look, I timed him when they were practising and Anya’s time was still better. I just really didn’t like the way he was staring at your boobs”
“Mhm, right. Winning was just a plus”
“See? You get me”
“That ball that distracted the other kid was not a mistake either, huh?”
“I don’t know what you mean, darling”
“And the parents that missed the race for changing the diaper?”
“Now, that was just a happy coincidence. The rest, yeah. Totally me”
“Evil! Stealing a toy from a toddler” you wave the purple elephant in her face. Natasha takes it and throws it over her shoulder, wrapping your legs around her waist in a swift motion. “What are you doing?”
“I got you that fancy formula machine, didn’t I? Where’s my prize?”
You laugh against her lips, but it soon turns into a moan, as you feel Natasha’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass.
“Anya's gonna wake up in thirty minutes or less. Can you handle that?”
“I do enjoy a good challenge” Natasha says against your lips, showing you how much she loves to win.
And honestly? After a mind blowing orgasm, you love it too.
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leaderwonim · 9 hours ago
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THE WORLD NEVER ENDED | JACK HUGHES
pairing. jack hughes x fem!reader (ft. platonic quinn & luke hughes x fem!reader + male!oc x fem!reader)
genre. childhood best friends to lovers, ANGST, fluff, hurt to comfort, reader & jack are both 18-19 in this!
synopsis: Y/N and Jack Hughes have been inseparable since childhood, spending every summer at his family’s lake house—until his hockey career takes off and leaves her behind. As Jack’s life moves forward and Y/N tries to do the same, the distance between them grows in ways neither of them expected. But when their paths cross again at a breaking point, they’re forced to confront everything they never said and the feelings that never really went away.
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The lake house never changes. It still smells like pine and sunscreen, the same old dock creaking under your feet, the same late summer breeze curling through the trees. But this time, you’re the only one here.
You let the beer bottle dangle from your fingers, the glass sweating against your palm as you stare at the still water. It’s late. Too late to be out here alone, and your mom would probably kill you if she found out you were underage drinking, but you’ve been doing this since you were kids—sneaking down to the dock past midnight, toes dipping into the water, whispering about everything and nothing at all.
Except this time, Jack isn’t here. Not really. Not anymore.
The last time you saw him was months ago, after another whirlwind season, after Team USA, after everything. He’d come back, same easy smile, same stupidly messy hair, same Jack. And yet, he wasn’t.
He moved too fast, talked too much about things you weren’t a part of, laughed at jokes from teammates you didn’t know. He had an entire life outside of this town, this lake, this dock. A life that didn’t include you.
It wasn’t his fault though, you couldn’t blame Jack for being excited about this whole new chapter in his life, not when he’s worked his ass off so he could secure a spot in the NHL in the future.
You took a shaky breath, watching as the wind blew the waters back and forth, your thought raced with Jack, Jack, Jack. It wasn’t anything new; you had been in love with him since you had learned what the word love even was, when Ellen and your mom teased you two endlessly after your eighth birthday, declaring that you’d two get married when you were older.
And then he left, at age fourteen to go train at some hockey camp over the summer and you started seeing him less and less. Then he left again for USA Hockey, and all that was left of him was the little times he’d pop up on your screen for a FaceTime, or a quick selfie.
You never told him that it felt like the world had ended whenever he left.
The first time you met Jack Hughes, he was seven years old, standing knee-deep in the lake, grinning like he had owned the world.
“You scared to jump in?” he teases, squinting up at you from where he’s splashing around.
You cross your arms, standing barefoot on the dock, the sun burning hot against your skin. “I just don’t wanna get my hair wet.”
Jack laughs like you just said the funniest thing in the world, and before you can react, he launches a handful of water in your direction. It splashes against your legs, cool and shocking, and you gasp.
“You jerk!” you shriek, but Jack’s already laughing, already diving into the water, swimming just far enough out of reach that you can’t get him back.
You don’t know it then, but that’s how it starts.
The Hughes family’s lake house becomes your second home. Your parents are close friends with Ellen and Jim, and summers are spent tangled in sunburns, mosquito bites, and the smell of bonfires. Jack, being just a few months older, quickly becomes your shadow—or maybe you become his.
You race bikes down dirt paths, climb trees until your hands are covered in splinters, and stay up late whispering under blanket forts in the Hughes’ living room, trying not to wake Luke and Quinn.
“You think we’ll still be best friends when we’re older?” you ask one night, voice sleepy, cheek smushed against your arm.
Jack frowns at you, like you just said something ridiculous. “Duh. Who else am I supposed to hang out with? My brothers?”
You grin brightly, shoving him. “You promise?”
He holds out his pinky. “Promise.”
And that’s that.
As you both get older, things don’t really change. Not at first.
Winters are spent at the Hughes’ house in Michigan, watching Jack skate for hours at the rink, your fingers numb from gripping a hot chocolate too tight. Summers are still for the lake house, where the days blur together in a haze of sun, water, and laughter.
Jack is your best friend. The one who sneaks you extra s’mores when the adults say no. The one who ties your skates when your fingers are too cold. The one who always picks you first for street hockey, even when Luke complains about it. The one who knows everything about you.
And you know everything about him, too.
That he gets grumpy when he’s hungry. That he has to listen to music before every game, or else he feels off. That he’s already dreaming about the NHL, about Team USA, about everything that seems so far away but somehow already feels like it’s coming too fast.
You don’t realize when things do start changing.
Maybe it’s when Jack turns fourteen and starts spending more time away at tournaments. Maybe it’s when you turn fourteen and realize your heart speeds up whenever he looks at you a certain way.
Maybe it’s the summer you turn fifteen and see him talking to a girl from town, and something ugly coils in your stomach. You don’t say anything, though. You can’t.
Jack is your best friend. That’s all. Even if you wish it wasn’t.
When Jack is sixteen, everything does change.
It’s the Fourth of July. The lake house is packed, fireworks already popping in the distance. You and Jack sneak away from the party like you always do, climbing onto the dock and lying side by side, watching the sky.
“You excited for the USA team?” you ask, your voice light, like the thought of him leaving doesn’t make your chest ache.
Jack turns his head to look at you. “Yeah,” he says. “Kinda nervous, though.”
You smile a little, the same smile that had reassured Jack every time he saw it. “You’ll be fine.”
He shifts closer, his arm brushing yours. “You think so?”
“Of course,” you whisper. “You’re Jack Hughes.”
He laughs, but it’s softer this time, almost hesitant. The air between you feels different, thicker, heavier. His fingers twitch on the dock beside yours, and for a second, you swear he’s about to reach for your hand.
But then he exhales sharply, sits up. “We should get back.”
And just like that, the moment is gone.
You stare at the fireworks exploding in the sky, feeling like something inside you is breaking.
Jack leaves for Team USA at the end of the summer.
And you don’t know it yet, but nothing will ever be the same again.
At first, you still talk all the time. He calls after practices, FaceTimes you from hotel rooms, sends you stupid selfies from road trips. And for a while, it almost feels normal. Almost.
But then the calls get shorter. The messages come slower.
You see his name on headlines, hear people at school talking about him like he’s some distant star instead of the boy you grew up with. And suddenly, he feels… far away.
Not just in distance. In everything.
And then one day, you realize you don’t remember the last time he called.
You don’t text him, either. You figured he was too busy anyways—too busy with hockey, with interviews, too busy for you.
His absence leaves a hollow space inside you, one you don’t know how to fill. So you try.
That’s how you end up with him.
Aiden West. Star quarterback. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy smile and dimples that should make your heart flutter.
You meet at a party—one you only went to because your friends dragged you out of your house, tired of you spending your nights holed up in your room, pretending you weren’t waiting for a text that never came.
Aidan’s nice. He’s funny. He buys you drinks and calls you baby and kisses you like he means it.
You tell yourself this is good. That this is what you need.
But when he holds your hand, it doesn’t feel the same. When he kisses you, you don’t melt the way you think you should. And when you close your eyes, it’s not Aidan you see.
It’s Jack. Always Jack.
Quinn comes home in December.
You’re not expecting to see him, not really. Ever since he was drafted, he spent all his time in Vancouver, busy with his own life, his own team. But one night, you walk into the Hughes’ house, and there he is, sprawled on the couch like he never left.
“Quinn?” you blink.
He smirks, sitting up. “Hey, kid.”
You roll your eyes but smile anyway. “You’re, like, a few years older than me. I’m not a kid.”
“You’ll always be a kid to me,” he teases, but then his expression softens. “How’ve you been?”
You shrug. “Good.”
He gives you a look, like he can see right through you. Because of course he can.
Quinn has always been quieter than Jack, more observant. He was the one who bandaged your scraped knees when you and Jack were too reckless, the one who ruffled your hair when you had a bad day, the one who watched you grow up and somehow always knew what you were feeling before you even said it.
And right now, you can tell he knows you’re lying.
“You still talk to Jack?” he asks casually.
You stiffen. “Not really.”
Quinn nods, like that’s what he expected. “He’s been busy.”
“I know,” you say quickly, too quickly. “It’s fine.”
He studies you for a moment. Then, his eyebrows furrow. “You dating that football guy?”
You hesitate. “Yeah. Kinda.”
Quinn tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “You like him?”
You swallow. “He’s… nice.”
Quinn leans back, crossing his arms. “You know, I’ve seen you happy before.”
You furrow your brows. “And?”
“And that’s not what you look like right now.”
The words hit deeper than you want them to. You look away, staring at your hands.
Quinn sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. If you like the guy, great. But don’t force something that isn’t real just because—” He pauses.
You glance up. “Just because what?”
Quinn meets your eyes, and for the first time, his voice is gentle. “Just because Jack hurt you.”
Your throat tightens.
You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say.
Because he’s right. And maybe that’s the worst part of all.
Aidan is kind when he breaks up with you.
That almost makes it worse.
You can tell he’s been thinking about it for a while. The way he exhales before he starts speaking, the way his hands stay tucked into the pocket of his hoodie like he’s afraid if he moves too much, you’ll see how much this is bothering him.
“You’re not really here, Y/N,” he says, voice steady but laced with something bitter, something tired.
You don’t argue, because you know he’s right.
He sighs, shaking his head. “I like you. I really do. But I deserve someone who looks at me like I’m the only one they’re thinking about.”
Your stomach twists.
“Aidan—”
“It’s fine,” he cuts in, forcing a small smile. “I knew. I think I always did.” He swallows, glancing away before meeting your eyes again. “It was never gonna be me, was it?”
You want to tell him you tried. That you wanted to feel something more, something real. But the truth is, no matter how hard you tried, he was never Jack.
And that was never fair to him.
So instead, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”
He nods, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “Yeah. Me too.”
A few days pass, and you still feel hollow, like you’re floating through life without really being in it.
You don’t know why you still go to the Hughes’ house. Maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s because it still feels like home, even when things don’t feel the same anymore.
Maybe it’s because, deep down, you just need someone who knows you.
Luke opens the door, and before you can even say anything, his face twists in concern.
“Okay, what’s wrong?”
You pause. “What?”
Luke steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. “You have your sad face on.”
You frown. “Luke Hughes, I do not have a—”
“You totally do,” he interrupts, flopping onto the couch. He gestures for you to sit next to him, and after a moment, you do.
There’s a beat of silence before he says, “Quinn told me everything.”
You freeze. “Everything?”
Luke gives you a knowing look. “Yeah. And I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at Jack since we were kids.”
You open your mouth, but no words come out.
Luke sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Look, I know he messed up. Jack is kind of known for that. And I know you’re hurt. But…” He hesitates. “You still love him, don’t you?”
You squeeze your eyes shut. “Luke—”
“Just be honest,” he says gently.
Your throat tightens. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.”
Luke nods like he already knew that was coming. Then he pulls something out of his pocket and holds it out to you.
You frown. “What’s this?”
“Tickets,” he says simply.
You blink. “Tickets?”
“To Jack’s game against Finland.” His voice is casual, but there’s something behind it—something careful, like he knows he’s walking a fine line. “I was gonna go, but I think you should instead.”
Your heart stops.
“Luke…”
“Don’t overthink it,” he says quickly. “Just go. See him. Talk to him.”
You stare at the tickets in his hand, your pulse pounding in your ears.
This is a choice. A chance.
And to be completely honest, you aren’t sure if you’re ready.
You end up deciding not to go until the last minute.
The plane ticket burns in your hands, Luke’s voice echoing in your head: Just go. See him. Talk to him.
So you do. You land in Finland, stomach in knots, trying not to think about what you’ll even say to him. If he’ll even want to see you.
But then the game happens. And Jack loses.
The scoreboard tells you everything—3-2, Finland. A brutal, heartbreaking end.
Jack stays on the ice, shoulders hunched, wiping his face as the Finnish players celebrate around him. You can see the way he’s blinking rapidly, how hard he’s trying to hold it together.
It doesn’t work.
By the time he’s in the tunnel for postgame interviews, it’s like the weight of everything finally crashes over him. The cameras capture everything; his red-rimmed eyes, the way his lips tremble when he speaks, the way his voice wavers when he says, “I feel like I let everyone down.”
Your heart cracks wide open. You don’t think. You just go.
You push through the lingering crowd, through the halls of the arena, heart racing. And then—there he is.
Jack is leaning against the wall, head bowed, gripping a water bottle so tightly his knuckles are white. His shoulders shake slightly, like he’s trying to get a grip, but he’s losing the battle.
You inhale sharply, willing yourself forward.
“Jack.”
His head snaps up, eyes widening. And for a second, he just stares.
Like he doesn’t believe you’re real.
“Y/N?” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.
You nod, stepping closer. But before you can say anything else, Jack clears his throat and quickly swipes at his face, straightening up like he’s trying to compose himself.
Then he blurts out, “How’s Aidan?”
You freeze.
Jack lets out a broken laugh, looking down. “Quinn told me you had a boyfriend,” he mutters, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I—uh, I’m happy for you. You deserve that.”
You swallow hard, your chest tightening. “Jack—”
“I mean it,” he interrupts, still not looking at you. “I always wanted you to be happy.”
He sniffles, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. He looks exhausted. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen before.
And suddenly, it’s too much.
The space between you. The months of silence. The fact that he still doesn’t know the truth.
You move before you can stop yourself, closing the gap and wrapping your arms around him.
Jack stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath.
But then—slowly, so slowly—it’s like something inside him gives in.
His hands grip your back, his face pressing into your shoulder, and he melts.
You feel his shaky exhale against your neck. The way his fingers curl into the jersey you’re wearing with his name on the back, like he’s afraid if he lets go, you’ll disappear.
And for the first time in a long time, you feel whole again.
“I don’t—” Jack’s voice cracks. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
Your throat tightens. “Then don’t. Just just let me be here.”
Jack exhales shakily, nodding against you. “Okay.”
Despite your reassurance, he still feels like he’s falling.
The weight of the loss, the pressure, the expectations, it’s all crashing over him, relentless and suffocating. But in the middle of it all, there’s you.
And when you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him, he realizes you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.
Your hands stay on his face, thumbs brushing against his damp skin, and there’s something in your expression, something soft and certain that makes his chest ache.
Then you move closer, tilting your head, and suddenly, suddenly—your lips press against his.
Jack stills.
Then, all at once, he melts into you.
His hands slide to your waist, gripping onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him standing. Your lips are soft, warm, familiar, but new at the same time, like something that was always supposed to happen but never did.
It feels like breathing again. Like finally getting it right.
But then, Jack realizes and he blinks, something clicking in his mind as he pulls back abruptly, still holding onto you but panting slightly.
“Wait,” he says, voice hoarse. “Aidan.”
You shake your head quickly. “We broke up.”
His brows furrow. “What?”
You exhale, your hands sliding from his face to his wrists, squeezing lightly. “Jack, I tried to move on. I tried so hard.” Your voice wavers. “But it was never him. It was always you.”
Jack’s lips part slightly, his breath hitching.
Then, suddenly, he laughs—a broken, disbelieving sound before his face crumples, his eyes shining again.
And just like that, he’s crying.
He presses his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut as his grip on your waist tightens.
“You have no idea how bad I wanted you to say that,” he whispers, his voice shaking.
You smile softly, brushing his hair back. “I think I do.”
Jack lets out a shaky exhale, his hands fisting the fabric of your jersey, like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he lets go. But you don’t.
Because after everything—after the distance, the silence, the missed chances—you’re still here.
He sniffles, pulling you into another tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder.
Later, when the chaos dies down and the arena empties, you end up in Jack’s car.
The heater hums softly, filling the silence, the city lights casting faint shadows across the dashboard.
Jack sits in the driver’s seat, head tilted against the headrest, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. You’re next to him, legs curled up on the seat, leaning against his shoulder.
It’s quiet.
Not awkward. Not heavy. Just comfortable.
Jack sighs, nudging his cheek against your hair. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
You smile faintly, reaching for his hand. “Me neither.”
He squeezes your fingers, his grip warm and sure. “I thought I lost you.”
You shake your head, squeezing back. “You never did.”
Jack exhales, his body relaxing against yours, and for the first time in a long time, hfeels whole again.
The lake house feels the same the next summer.
The scent of pine and sunscreen still lingers in the air, the dock still creaks under your feet, and the water still glistens under the late afternoon sun. But this time, Jack is here. And this time, he’s yours.
He had turned freshly nineteen last month, but still was the same annoying boy you had known since you were seven.
You sit on the old wooden dock, legs stretched out, the warm breeze tangling your hair. Jack is lying beside you, one arm draped lazily over his forehead, his other hand resting on your knee, tracing absentminded patterns over your skin.
It’s quiet, just the sound of the water lapping against the shore and the occasional laughter from inside the house, where Quinn and Luke are probably chirping each other over something stupid.
Jack sighs, turning his head to look at you. “I missed this.”
You smile, threading your fingers through his. “Me too.”
He studies you for a moment, his eyes soft, warm, completely yours. Then, without a word, he tugs you down so you’re lying next to him, your head resting on his chest.
“You know,” he muses, fingers trailing up and down your back, “last summer, I thought I’d never get this back.”
You inhale slowly, letting his heartbeat ground you. “Me too.”
Jack tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But we made it.”
You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, smiling. “We did.”
He grins, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat, then flips you onto your back, hovering over you with that look—the one that reminds you he’s still the same Jack, the same boy who used to splash you in the lake, who used to steal your s’mores when you weren’t looking, who used to be your best friend before he was everything.
“Hey, lovebirds!” Luke’s voice echoes from the house, and you both groan.
Jack turns his head, scowling. “Luke, I swear—”
Quinn’s voice cuts in. “Let them be, Luke. They suffered enough.”
You laugh as Jack rolls his eyes. “I hate that he’s right.”
You shake your head, pulling Jack back down. “Just kiss me already.”
He smirks. “Gladly.”
And as his lips meet yours, the sun dips below the horizon and the lake glistens around you, making you realize everything is exactly the way it’s meant to be.
It isn’t until Luke pretends to fake barf that Jack removes himself away from you, opting to chase down his little brother.
“Boys, am I right?” Quinn says, giving you a grin.
You wrap your arms around him, never feeling as whole as you did now.
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jellymochii · 2 days ago
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Stray Kids - Valentine's Day Headcanons
ᡣ𐭩 pairings: OT8 SKZ x fem!Reader
ᡣ𐭩 genre: fluff, smut
ᡣ𐭩 wc: 1.5k
ᡣ𐭩 cw: smut, dacryphilia, oral, mentions of bondage/d!ldos, dry humping, unprotected s3x (pls don't unless you want STD's for Valentine's Day)
↪author's note: hello! sorry I've been gone so long and not finished my NingNing fic, but to make it up to you I've whipped this up. happy Valentine's Day and hope you enjoy!
**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**
ᡣ𐭩Chan
His dad always taught him to be a classy man–and so he's gonna make sure you're well taken care of for such a special day.
He bought you that long red dress you've been eyeballing for a while and adorned you with shiny pearled jewelry. (And a giant bouquet of flowers)
He takes you to the most high end restaurant in the city (which took 6 months reservation in advance) with a staff member dressed all nice like a chauffeur.
Expensive steaks, lobster tail, or even chicken nuggets. Whatever you want, he'll get you.
Lots of food in your belly to prepare for…y'know, the baby he's about to put in you.
What, like he wasn't gonna fill you to the brim with cum after you looked this good for him?
It's almost as if he knew that you were planning on skipping your birth control that day in the hopes you'd finally get to be filled.
Oh and you're up for hours, he's not stopping until your poor cunt is leaking with all his babies, and he'll get a few more loads in just to make sure it stays put in your cervix.
“C'mon baby, you don't want anything leaking out d'ya? Right, now stay still and let daddy give you that baby you wanted~.”
There's nothing more romantic to both of you than being given a cute little symbol of your love in 9 months.
ᡣ𐭩Minho
The bad news is that he did not, infact, get the day off work. There's lots of love he has to send to STAY before he can get home to you.
The good news is that now that Idol Minho is off work, Chef Minho has arrived!
He always keeps your favorite dish in the back of his mind and he knows you've been begging him to make it these past few weeks, but he wanted to save it today to make it extra special.
You'll smell it from a mile away, but as soon as you walk in the dining table is lit with candles and a big flower centerpiece to top it off.
Looks at you with so much love as you absolutely devour your plate like a wild tiger.
Speaking of absolutely devouring
Normally you and Minho have a strict dom/sub relationship with him asserting and taking control.
But today he just wants to show you that despite all the harsh punishments he has to give you, you're still the love of his life.
And that includes devouring your cunt for hours.
“Mmmh, my precious little pussy. You're this wet just for me?”
ᡣ𐭩Changbin
CRUISE TIME BABYYYYY
No but fr he wasn't sure what to do and even asked Chaeryeong what kind of stuff girls like.
Eventually he settled on taking the week off and spending time with you by the seaside, providing both a relaxing and loving vacation.
You two get to explore some cute islands and eat feasts of chocolate alongside a paradise of other loving couples.
And sometimes you'll spend alone time too! He'll work out at the cruise gym while you relax by the poolside soaking up the island sun.
Oh and it's a good thing it's a honeymoon cruise (even if you two aren't married)
God bless whoever decided to make all the rooms on the ship soundproof because you're definitely gonna need it while he's rearranging your guts.
But let's be honest, the whole ship can still hear your strangled moans and the plap plap plap sounds coming from your room.
“Anngh, yeobo, you're so tight, I love this pussy.”
At least you can tell your kids they were created by the sea.
ᡣ𐭩Hyunjin
You can expect nothing but the sweetest from your lover boy.
He had Versace create a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers in a beautiful signature gold wrap.
His first thought on a date was doing the painting swap challenge from tiktok and seeing what the two of you could create.
There's paint on both of your noses by the end and kkami with an accidental blue spot on his fur from the crossfire of your paint war.
He tried to salvage your original drawing to no avail, but he still insists that he thinks it's perfect because it came from you.
His next surprise was a custom mold of his cock for you to play with whenever he was away on tour, but he insists on trying it on you first for “Quality Assurance” as he calls it.
It feels almost exactly like the real thing and reaches into your favorite spots exactly like his.
With his new ability to use the dildo AND his mouth simultaneously, you cum so many times that you're brain dead.
“You're so gorgeous, my angel. You look so pretty cumming on my cock–God, I love you so much.”
And he may have snapped a few photos of you like this to help him when he's not there next to you.
ᡣ𐭩Han
Have you ever dreamed of having a whole mixtape/album come out all about you?
Cause Jisung's got you covered
He'll have a whole listening party with some of his friends as you sit there trying not to cry from how sweet he is.
You can't stop kissing him and adoring him the rest of the night, it's like your wildest dreams have come true.
How could you not reward such a good boy?
Oh you both are getting the NASTIEST sex tonight.
Dildos, cuffs, chains–every toy gets brought in out of desperation.
You're both just so desperate to fuck eachother before you even leave that he's pressed up against you on the subway humping your ass like a dog.
“Mmmph, please! I-I need more!.”
You're in for a long night of multiple orgasms from both of you.
ᡣ𐭩Felix
You've been eyeballing the amusement park 2 towns over for a while now, and what better time to take you than now?
The illuminating fair lights turned pink for the special day makes you both giddy.
The first stop is obviously the Rollercoaster, you're having the time of your life while Felix is fighting off demons trying not to pass out.
Then you'll get to go on the new pink ferris wheel and give your lover a kiss at the top.
Alongside buying you all the fair food you can eat, he spots a pair of gold rings from a vendor that he just HAS to buy you.
After coming back from buying them and watching you struggle on the shooting game for a giant teddy bear, he steps in and uses his gamer experience to win it for you!
And he's gonna make you hump it for him as soon as you get home.
Don't worry, he'll fuck you eventually, but watching you desperately get off on the fluffy fabric while staring at him with teary puppy eyes makes his dick throb.
“Fuck you look so sexy like that. Keep going so I can cum on your pretty face, mkay?”
ᡣ𐭩Seungmin
Since your first date was at the vintage arcade down the street, he decided to bring you right back to where it all started.
Life's been a total dream since you two started dating, but you're reminded in times like these why he's such a tease.
He'll never let you forget how much better he is at video games than you are, especially Guitar Hero and the OG Sonic.
You're also getting your ass whooped at Dance Dance Revolution too.
He'll let you win at 1 or 2 games though just so you don't pout at him later.
You know what his favorite game is though?
Edging you, duh.
You swear you have no idea where he learned to use his fingers so skillfully. He's throat deep in your pussy while his fingers twist your nipples to perfection.
“Why are you squirming away? I thought you loved it when I broke you down jagi.”
And you do, there's no better gift you could've gotten today than being nothing more than a brain dead fuckdoll for your sweet boyfriend.
ᡣ𐭩Jeongin
You guys are still fairly new to your relationship and it's your first Valentine's Day.
So he wants to make it as perfect as possible. He asks Chris and the rest of the boys what kind of stuff he should do for you and tries to pack it all together in one night.
Unfortunately for him the place he wanted to take you caught on fire, the flowers got delivered to the wrong address, and the ring he ordered you was smaller than what he wanted.
The poor boy can't even look you in the eye as he’s telling you all of this, but you reassure him that none of the material stuff matters–as long as he’s by your side.
The two of you settle for takeout and a movie at your place with lots of cuddles and kisses.
There was still a chance for him to have one thing he planned go his way though.
While the two of you have dealt in the occasional oral/fingering, he wanted to overcome his fear of intimacy and actually have sex with you.
Thankfully all his wildest dreams came true the moment he slipped into you and was immediately sent straight into Heaven.
“F-fuuuuck, you’re everything–so beautiful, perfect and tight.”
Even if Valentine's Day didn't go the way he originally wanted, he wouldn't ask for anything else–bring inside of you and feeling your love was all he needed.
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aurorawritestoescape · 2 days ago
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PERFECT MATCH
Dieter Bravo x f!reader x Marcus Pike
Summary: Dieter becomes a face of a dating app and meets you and your husband while shooting an ad for it. Feeling an immense attraction, he invites you both to his penthouse, planning to enjoy the night and you to the fullest.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, threesome, shifting pov’s but it’s mostly Dieter’s, love is in the air, wholesome depravity, a lil bit of cuckolding, mm oral, body worship, lactation kink galore, pregnancy kink, unprotected piv, f/m! oral, breastfeeding, cumeating, Dieter is nasty and sweet, alcohol consumption, swearing.
Word count: 3,7k
A/n: first of all, Happy Valentine's Day, lovelies! I’m sending y’all kisses and hugs! This is written for Bouquets of Pedro creativity challenge created by @happypedrohours 💞 but also for me and for like minded ppl🥛 If it’s not your thing, it’s totally ok (give it a taste tho, you might like it hehe) Kisses to my baby @milla-frenchy for the support and beta-ing!💋Have a wonderful weekend, y’all!❤️
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
MASTERLIST
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“A face of a dating app? Me? Are you shitting me right now?”
Dieter lowered his sunglasses to stare at Erin, his PR manager. They’d met at a restaurant to discuss the future of his career after it had been hit by yet another scandal, involving the famous actor.
“It's not just a dating app,” Erin began explaining. “They guarantee that a person will meet their soulmate there. It’s called ‘Perfect Match‘. They have some kind of an algorithm to … ehm.. whatever. Not important. What’s important is that it’s wholesome, Dieter, and we desperately need to clean up your image. At least try,” the woman added, failing to hide defeat in her voice.
“ ‘s all defamation,” Dieter mumbled before taking a sip of his 11am White Russian.
The woman continued,
”If you want to ever be in a good movie, that’s a great start. Right now casting directors avoid you like a plague. B movies will be all you can get pretty soon.”
“Ouch.”
“You know it’s true.”
Dieter did know it so he said ‘yes‘.
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He and his team met with the app people the next week. He missed half of the shit they discussed playing ‘animal crossing’ on his Switch but at the end of the meeting he signed the contract and they scheduled an ad shoot.
On the day of the shoot, Dieter was ready to die of boredom, filming the boring ad - he had to interview a happily married couple that had found each other on the app. In his mind he was already planning what he was going to drink, sniff, take and fuck that night, barely noticing what was happening around him on set.
Yet when he saw the couple, his attitude made a u-turn, especially when he laid his eyes on the most precious co-star - you. His mind short circuited and every part of him started buzzing.
Especially his cock.
You were a beautiful woman, there was no question about that, but what made him howl like a cartoon wolf was your big pregnant belly, accentuated by your thin summer dress. Your boobs were almost spilling out of the neckline and Dieter immediately bricked up as he shamelessly took you in.
"Meet the Pikes," his manager introduced the two of you. "They met on the app, got married and now they’re expecting a baby. Isn't it wonderful?"
"Amazing. When's the due date?" Dieter blurted out, shaking your hand, almost choking on his saliva.
"Next month," you replied without a beat, smiling widely at the actor. "I'm a huge fan of yours, Mr Bravo. And my husband too."
Your husband, Marcus, turned out to be an aspiring actor. He was hot as well, tall and well built with short dark hair and eager eyes. He looked too clean for Dieter, too put-together in his white dress shirt and black slacks, but it could be fun to ruffle the guy up a bit.
Dieter smirked, ogling the two of you. He knew exactly what he was doing tonight.
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The shoot was done fast, thanks to you two being really great on camera and Dieter applying all of himself to finish the job. He couldn’t wait to spend more time with you in a private setting.
“Hey, guys, would you like to have dinner at mine? Get to know each other better?”
Your face lit up and you looked at your husband with your eyes full of hope and excitement and Marcus accepted the invitation with a polite smile.
“Yay!” you exclaimed, making a tiny joyous jump, which made your beautiful breasts jiggle. Dieter smiled and bit his lip. ‘Yay’ indeed.
Dieter took you and Marcus home in his limo and on your way there you told him about your husband’s little roles, sounding very proud of his accomplishments. Marcus asked Dieter for some advice on how to make it big in the industry and feeling flattered the actor happily shared his thoughts.
Dieter really liked you both but you made his heart beat faster and his cock throb. Talking to your husband, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you, imagining fucking you in every possible position. He’d prefer to rail you on your back so he could see your amazing tits and your bulging belly on full display. He needed to lay his hands on your gorgeous body as soon as possible.
Suddenly he noticed that you got nervous and fidgety.
"What's wrong, beautiful?" he asked with furrowed brows, his tone concerned. "Is it the baby?"
"Oh no." You shook your head. "It's - no, nothing.
It's embarrassing."
Marcus came to your help and, when you nodded for him to go on, he explained.
"She has milk coming in and it gets uncomfortable sometimes."
Dieter almost jizzed in his soft pants that very moment.
You were looking upset, trying to fix your jacket over your boobs. Gorgeous, wonderful, perfect boobs which were apparently leaking milk right in his limo. Dieter could have thrown his hands up to the sky in a thankful prayer but instead he took your hand in his and cooed at you,
"Oh, baby, don't be embarrassed. It's the most natural thing. And it's beautiful. You're beautiful."
“Thank you, Mr Bravo,” you said with a shy smile and relaxed a little.
“Call me Dieter, honey.”
Dieter didn’t lie. You were glowing, your beauty leaving him breathless. He really wanted to see your wet top but he stopped himself from asking just in time.
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Soon you arrived at his penthouse and had a nice dinner, talking about Dieter’s roles, your hopes and dreams. The older man found you two delightful but at the back of his mind he was still thinking about your leaky boobs while his cock was stiffening in his pants again and again.
After the dinner, you continued the conversation in his living room, you and your husband on the couch, Dieter in the armchair. He got you some water, two glasses of white wine for Marcus and himself and then returned to the topic on his mind.
“Can I ask you something, honey? I’m afraid it’s inappropriate.”
You looked a bit surprised and glanced at your husband before saying,
“Oh…ok.”
”I thought milk comes after a baby’s born. And you have it now?“
“Yeah, sometimes it happens before,” you started explaining, looking a little shy. ”My doctor says it’s normal. The body is getting ready.”
“Yeah, nature is amazing,” Dieter mused before taking a sip of his wine.
You sighed.
“It’s not really convenient though and it hurts a little.”
“Oh, because there’s no one to drink it yet?”
“Yeah.” You both laughed and Dieter tilted his head.
“Have you ever tasted it?”
“Mr Bravo,” you gasped, averting your eyes with a timid smile on your flushed face.
“Dieter, baby,” he corrected you. He noticed the way you bit your lip and how Marcus squirmed in his seat. You both didn’t look scandalized or offended.
“Ehm, I tasted it once,” you admitted quietly. ”Just to try it. It’s sweet.”
“Oh, really?” Dieter gruffed, his eyes sparkling at your confession. He bucked his hips— even in his soft pants his erection was getting painful.
“What about you, Marcus?”
“No, it’s for the baby,” the younger man replied with a shake of his head but immediately glanced at your gorgeous chest.
“Well, the baby isn’t here yet, right?” Dieter pushed, not tearing his dark eyes off the two of you. Marcus nodded and swallowed hard as his hand darted to adjust his crotch.
“But we are,” Dieter purred, testing the waters. Your breath hitched and you pressed your thighs together. You glanced at Dieter, your pupils dilating. The actor was sure that your pussy was already tingling, so he gave you a playful wink, then leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees, and asked,
“Can I see them?”
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That’s how you ended up moaning and whimpering, sandwiched between Dieter and your husband Marcus on the couch. Your dress neckline and bra were pulled down, your naked tits pushed up, Dieter’s lips tightly wrapped around your breast, as much as he could engulf with his greedy mouth. He was growling into your tit, slurping down your sweet milk, kneading the other leaking boob with his big hand. His cock was tenting his pants, the crotch stained with pre cum, but he was hesitant to pull his dick out. He didn’t want to push you further too fast, didn’t want your husband to take you away from him.
Marcus seemed a bit uncomfortable when you showed Dieter two wet spots on your chest and when the actor held your clothed boob, as if weighing it in his hand. But Dieter knew what he was doing. He was gushing over your beauty, meanwhile mentioning how much he wanted to help Marcus with his career, how much he was going to do for him, for your family. The prospect of being Dieter’s protégé excited the young actor. Besides he couldn’t deny that watching the older man touch your milky breasts made Marcus rock hard in seconds.
While Dieter was gulping down your milk, your sweet noises were driving Marcus mad with arousal. He would hear you moan like that only when his cock was ruining your tight pussy. A pang of regret painfully stung his heart and he chided himself for never sucking on your tits, never giving you such great pleasure.
The actor interrupted his thoughts.
“Pull him out, man. I know you’re fucking hard. We both are,” Dieter mumbled, after letting your puffy nipple out of his mouth with a pop.
Milk immediately trickled down the curve of your breast and Dieter rushed to scoop it up with his tongue, before latching onto the source of your creamy nectar again.
Marcus’s head was clouded with lust, it was difficult to think straight, and he let himself get swallowed by the depravity of the situation.
“Baby?” He croaked, questioning his next move, and when you nodded eagerly, his hands immediately began unbuckling his belt. He took his stiff cock out and started stroking it, watching the famous actor suck milk out of his wife’s tits.
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Dieter felt himself on cloud nine. The taste of you was divine, your soft whimpers were getting louder and needier, and you kept squirming in your seat. Just a minute and you’d be inviting him to taste not only your titty juice but your pussy juices too.
The older man moaned when he saw Marcus’s gorgeous cock. It was not as big as his, less thick, but it looked like a good time and besides was very aesthetically pleasing.
Your faces were flushed, your pupils blown out to the max. You both were ready to take the plunge into the world of lustful ecstasy.
“Fuck, you two are so hot,” Dieter breathed out and then whispered into your ear, playing with your wet nipple, ”C’mon, baby, let me make you feel real good. I wanna celebrate your gorgeous body the right way.”
He offered you his huge hand and you took it before glancing at your husband.
“Marcus, you two won’t regret tonight. I promise you,” Dieter said to the younger man who visibly shuddered with desire.
The actor smirked and helped you up from the couch. Marcus got up too, his hand wrapped around his crying cock, stepped up to you and kissed your lips. His hands were holding your face gently, his member bobbing between your bodies. The kiss was passionate and soft, and Dieter smiled, witnessing your love and lust for each other, but soon his own desire overtook him.
“Get a room, lovebirds,” he chuckled. “And I know just the place.” You parted from each other and followed the actor to his bedroom.
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The first thing Dieter did when you three stepped into his spacious bedroom was undress you. Slowly, taking his sweet time, showering you with praise, he freed your wonderful body from the confines of your clothes.
Marcus hastily discarded his own clothes, watching the older man take your dress off and then slide your panties down your legs.
Dieter brought your wet underwear to his nose and the scent of you sent shivers down his spine and electricity through his cock. He got naked fast and then, taken with admiration and lust for you, fell on his knees. He looked up at you with piety in his puppy eyes, gently placed his palms on your round belly and cooed, taking in your beautiful form.
“Fucking goddess! Look at her, man,” he turned to Marcus who was sitting naked on the edge of the huge bed, slowly stroking his shaft.
“We must cherish her,” Dieter gushed, caressing your belly and your hips, “You're a miracle, honey.”
“She really is,” Marcus smiled.
You looked shy, standing naked in front of the men, one of whom you had met that very day, but Dieter saw how much you enjoyed his praise- your eyes were sparkling and your wide smile was genuine.
“May I…?” Dieter reached up on his knees and kissed your belly, gliding his hands over the roundness of your body. He was leaving soft kisses over the stretched skin of your stomach and you were breathing faster and faster. Then his lips travelled south to your mound and he kissed it gently with his mouth open. You hand flew to his disheveled hair but not to stop him - you caressed his head instead and tilted your hips forward, silently asking for more.
Dieter didn’t need to be invited twice. He spread your folds with his fingers and leaned in to give your hardened clit a lick. You gasped at the sensation and your knees almost buckled. Marcus rushed to you immediately and wrapped his arm around your torso and under your arms. Like a devoted husband he let you use him for stability while the older man was eating you out.
Dieter pushed his tongue deeper, reached your crying hole with the tip of the hot muscle, then dragged it between your folds back to your clit. Your moans filled the room when he began sucking on your engorged clit just like he’d done with your leaky nipple minutes ago. He couldn’t dare to touch his cock, he was afraid to come too soon.
After a few minutes Dieter pulled away from your cunt and admired you two, standing before him— you, beautiful and soft, Marcus strong and muscular. Your husband’s cock was bobbing in front of the older man’s face, and Dieter tentatively put his hand on the man’s hip, silently asking if he could go further. Marcus locked eyes with him and Dieter got his answer.
He slowly took the man’s cock in his mouth, inch by inch, and heard you moan.
“Baby, that’s so hot,” you mumbled watching your husband getting blown by the actor. Dieter hated leaving you without attention so his thumb quickly found your clit, two of his fingers plunged into your hole, and he began fingering your soft pussy.
At that moment Dieter dreamed of two more hands and another mouth so he could pleasure you both at the same time, but alas, he had to alternate between licking your pussy and sucking your husband’s cock.
Marcus and you began kissing, swallowing each other’s pleasured whimpers, while Dieter was feasting on your cunt and his length. Soon you came, shaking against your husband’s body who was holding you tight, not letting you fall when the waves of euphoria were hitting you over and over.
Dieter was happy with his job for now. He sat on his heels, looking up at your satisfied smile and Marcus’s engorged cock. Your tits were leaking again and he missed having them in his mouth so he ordered,
“Bed you two. Now.”
There was no harshness in his voice. Just desire and admiration for the two people giving him the pleasure worthy of gods.
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You were lying down on the bed, your back resting on a few pillows, Dieter by your side. Marcus took place between your legs, licking the mixture of your cum and Dieter’s saliva off your puffy folds.
The actor began drinking from your tit again but now he wanted more.
“Can I play with you a little, beautiful? I’ll be gentle,” he purred into your ear and you moaned a soft ‘yes’.
Dieter latched to your nipple, sucked out a mouthful of your creamy liquid and sat up. He leaned down and slowly poured your milk out of his mouth right on your blooming pussy. It hit your clit first and then slid down to your hole right into the mouth of your husband, whose tongue was thrusting in and out of you. Marcus hungrily licked it off and growled against your cunt.
“Baby?” You sounded nervous.
“More,” your husband replied and you giggled with relief.
Dieter repeated the action a few more times, letting Marcus slurp your milk off your glistening cunt. Playing with you like that, they made you come again and then one more time. Drunk on euphoria you began breathing heavily, your forehead was sweaty, your lips parted and gulping air.
“My love,” Marcus cooed at you, climbing up the bed to the other side of you. “You ok?”
“Yes,” you huffed with a smile. “Just tired.”
Dieter looked at you with his puppy eyes and asked,
“Wanna stop, baby?”
You looked at his fat cock, then at Marcus’s crying member and shook your head.
“No, I wanna make you two come.”
“Oh, honey,” Dieter muttered and kissed your cheek. “You’re an angel. We don’t deserve you.”
“Where do you want us?” Marcus asked softly, caressing your belly with his sweaty palm.
“Yours in my pussy. Dieter, can I suck you off?
It took everything from Dieter not to come right then and there.
The men took their positions fast, yet still moving very carefully around you. Marcus got settled on his knees between your legs and was gliding his hands up and down your thighs, waiting for you to be ready.
Dieter kneeled next to your shoulder, bringing his cock to your mouth as close as possible, caring for your comfort.
“I won’t go deep, beautiful. Just lick him a little and I’ll come. I can bust just looking at you.”
You nodded, smiling up at his handsome face.
Marcus started first. The cold wet tip of his cock nestled at your entrance and he started pushing it in. Your cum and his pre fuck juice made it easy for you to take his length and soon your husband was growling, seeing his cock plunged deep inside your pussy.
“Oh, baby,” you moaned, watching his member move in and out of you, your greedy cunt swallowing him whole again and again. You twisted your nipple and a jet of milk burst out of your tit and hit Marcus’s lower belly. It trickled down the man’s happy trail and Dieter whined,
“That’s the hottest shit I’ve seen. Baby, can I do it?“
“Yeah,” you mumbled, delirious with lust and pleasure.
Dieter took your nipple between his fingers and gently pulled on it. ”Fuck me,” he grunted, as he began spraying your milk everywhere— Marcus’s chest, his stomach, your big belly, your glistening pussy. For some time you were mesmerized watching the sweet juice of your tits slide down your husband’s abs and then reach the place where the two of you were joined.
“Hnggg,” Dieter growled, “some extra lube for you two. Fuck this milk deep into her pussy, Marcus. Make her sweet all over.”
You were moaning loudly, drowning the lewd squelching sounds of your husband’s cock churning milk inside your cunt.
You needed to ground yourself or you’d die of immense pleasure, so you turned to Dieter who was still playing with your milky breasts and took the fat head of his cock into your mouth.
The actor made the neediest sound and bent over as if you hit him in the stomach.
“Your mouth, baby, it's heaven,” he moaned through heavy breaths and then roared, dropping his head back in ecstasy.
“Fuck— gonna come.“
A rope of his seed hit the back of your mouth and you took him deeper, breathing through your nose, letting the older man spill his cum inside your mouth and down your throat.
Marcus followed him immediately and his cock started filling you full of his hot sperm, adding even more wetness to your core. The men used both of your holes to discard their fat loads and you happily swallowed Dieter’s seed with your mouth and Marcus’s with your pussy.
When their balls were drained, they plopped on the bed on the both sides of you, panting and chuckling from time to time.
“‘s was fucking incredible,” Dieter breathed out, turning on his side, and looked at you with gratitude.
“Can I kiss your wife, Marcus?” He asked, lifting himself on one elbow.
“If she wants it.”
Marcus gave you both a tired smile.
Dieter looked deep into your eyes, leaned closer and your sparkling eyes screamed ‘yes’.
He finally kissed you. His lips were slowly caressing yours, your tongues tangled, his hand was rubbing your round belly, yours was cupping his scruffy cheek.
When you parted from him, Marcus seized your chin and turned your head to him. Your lips met and as Dieter watched your husband lick into your mouth, a satisfied smile spread across his face.
“That app is the shit,” he muttered. ”We matched perfectly.”
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Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!
Also check out my favorite milky stories. They’re amazing! Leave some love to the authors if you enjoy their work.
Liquid Gold (Joel, Tommy) by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
Mother who provides (Joel) by @pedge-page
While the baby sleeps (Ezra) by @mothandpidgeon
MASTERLIST
Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40
Tagging some friends who might be interested. No pressure to read, loves<3 @604to647 @myownwholewildworld @bonezone44 @toxicanonymity @tateypots @sp00kymulderr
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cntloup · 3 days ago
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simon x fem!reader
valentine's day doesn't really go quite as planned... :)
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everything was perfect. you've just dropped off your daughter at your parents'. they were more than happy to spend the day with her and give you some much-needed time and space to yourselves since you both have been working nonstop for the past month and spending the rest of your time with a super energetic four-year-old, who is perfect by the way! of course you love your child dearly, but you both have been dying to spend some time together as husband and wife, counting down the hours to this lovely day which has finally arrived.
the dinner went perfectly at your favorite restaurant where you had your first date. you talked about all your new interests and what hobbies you'd like to pick up once given the time and also reminisced about all your fond memories, keeping the work talk to a minimum. and you mentioned how thankful you are of each other and how grateful for the wonderful and loving family you have created together. after all these years, simon still can't believe how lucky he is. and all your lovely words of admiration brought tears to his eyes. you reached out and so sweetly wiped his tears away with your tender touch, your hand lingering on his cheek for a moment.
you check into your room at the hotel that simon had reserved months ago. he picked you up from work, surprising you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a box of chocolates, nearly making all your co-workers swoon over this absolute hunk of a man being so soft and loving to his wife.
now here you are, being carried bridal style by your husband just like the day you got married. he gently places you on the bed and hovers above you, his large figure enveloping yours as his love does your soul. you wrap your arms around his neck as you gaze into each other’s eyes with loving expressions plastered across your faces. he leans in to capture your lips with his, the kiss turning from tender and sweet to heated and passionate in a moment as your hands begin to roam across each other's bodies with such a burning desire that only comes from a never-ending and never-wavering fervent love seething in your hearts.
you discard all your clothes, getting them out of the way so you can fully feel each other. he gently parts your legs and places a wet kiss on your lips before going down and settling between your soft thighs, his hands digging into the flesh to keep them apart as his lips meet your clit, kissing, sucking and licking before a stripe of spit leaves his mouth and cascades down your already dripping wet folds. he licks your sloppy cunt, drinks in your addictive taste and sweet aroma, so delicious and otherworldly, cherishing you as if you're a gift sent to him from heavens above... and so warm... gods, you're so warm... and so soft... your plushy thighs enveloping him in a warm embrace, and your saccharine moans... slowly... lulling him... away...
"simon?" your eyebrows furrow in confusion when his touch subsides.
before you know it, there's a soft snore coming from below and you lift your head to see your dear husband sleeping between your legs, his head resting against your inner thigh as his lips and nose are still slightly attached to your pussy, and he's already drooling a bit.
you can't help but laugh at the sight, "oh, simon!" you smile fondly. although you find it funny, but it's also endearing to see him so relaxed and at peace during such an intimate act. you softly caress his buzzed head, moving down to his nape with a smile that seems to never want to leave your face.
you lay back down with him still between your legs, deep in sleep it seems and you're glad that you could bring him enough comfort so he'd be able to relax like this. he feels safe with you. and frankly, that's all you could ask for.
you start to feel all the exhaustion of the past month creeping up on you as well and feel yourself slowly drifting away. you yawn and let out a content sigh, "goodnight, my love."
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lilimaginebean · 2 days ago
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love tropes
💕 happy valentine’s day
ENEMIES TO LOVERS
SAKUYA KIYOOMI didn't expect to kiss you. He always liked organisation, planning things and cleaning. On the contrary, you were somewhat disorganised, and although you brushed your teeth three times a day and washed every day, it wasn't enough to him. Due to that, all your interactions were awful. Nevertheless, everything changed when you were assigned to be the chemistry lab parents. On an afternoon, were you two were discussing again and he with no arguments left, decided to kiss you. In that moment, you both discovered the solution to all your arguments: just a little love. Some small argument? Holding hands. Shouting? Hugging for 5 seconds. Insulting? Nothing that kisses couldn’t solve. As the days went by, these signs of affection became more and more present, and the arguments began to disappear. Now every affection sign wasn’t to shut each other up, but to fight for who loves the other more.
CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS
TSUKISHIMA KEI met you when you moved to the new neighbourhood at the age of 7. At first he was with you because he wanted to be polite and because his mother told him to, and you were with him because he was your only acquaintance. But as the days, months and years went by, so did your relationship. At what point did you become so close? Was it when you took care of him when he fell ill at the age of 12? Was it when he comforted you after your first break-up at the age of 15? Or did it happen at that New Year's Eve party where you both ended up confessing your love for each other? As if you cared, the only thing you mind was in how to tell your family you were getting married to your childhood friend.
FORBIDDEN LOVE
MIYAS's relatives are untouchable. That's the main rule to avoid complicated situations between you and your bestie, Osamu Miya. You always thought it would be easy since you have never met him, until you finally ran into him while helping Osamu in his restaurant. ATSUMU MIYA on the other hand had the same conflict: how could his brother have such a stunning and kind friend and not tell him? Even worse, that he had forbidden him to go out with you? The short-term solution was to start seeing each other in secret. But after a year, he came to your flat to tell you that he had found the long-term solution. It took him only two days to set his plan in motion, at one of those dinners the Miya family, he decided to get down on one knee and propose to you. Atsumu knew he couldn't go out with Osamus' best friend, but Osamu had never forbidden him to marry his best friend, right?
SECOND LOVE CHANCE
You met OIKAWA TORU when you were 16 and started dating within three months of meeting each other, turning into the high school couple. What they didn't expect was that one day, out of the blue, you broke up with him. News spread fast and all rumors began to appear. Everyone had no idea what had happened between the two of you, but everything changed when they found out that he was moving to another country. What they didn't know was that you broke up with him not because he was leaving you, but because he didn't want to leave you. You couldn’t forgive yourself if he chose you over his dream, and despite he was at first against of the break up he then thanked your selfless action. But there was one thing more, the day before he parted, Oikawa visited you one last time and asked you to wait for him for 5 years. He was a man of words, and he still is, since today is the fifth anniversary of that day, and is right now in front of your apartment door.
DRUNKEN HOOKUP
KAGEYAMA TOBIO wasn't the kind of man who liked hookups, but it was his birthday, you looked stunning in that bar and you were both a bit tipsy. He didn't know how to pull you off, but he wasn't stupid enough to ask. One thing led to another and you ended up having a night of passion in his apartment. When he woke up the next day, you were gone and he thought he would never see you again. Everything changed when the coach introduced his team to their new manager, you. His first thought was what to do, considering he still found you attractive and there was a policy of no relationships with staff members. Oh, he will need his sister’s help so bad.
MATCHMAKER
You were there for love, always helping your friends with their romantic problems, helping your little cousin ask her crush out, being the romantic counsellor for almost everyone you know... You were so into love, but so into the concept of love that you didn't even realise that one of the most wanted bachelors, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, was crazy in love with you. He was always bringing you flowers, chocolates, gifts, and you, being the hopeless romantic that you were, thought he was helping you with the dating stuff. Not only you were oblivious of this, but taking into account how he was sometimes clueless while interacting with others made all your interactions funnier. Everyone knew about this dynamic and whenever he tried to confess his love, many students were eavesdropping or staring from their classes. As always, you didn’t reject him because you didn’t even consider he was confessing his love to you. And as every time, Ushijima always took literally notes on a notebook of your reactions for the next love confession. He definitely deserved better.
THE NO FEELING HOOKUP
The no feelings pact, where you suggested it to KUROO TETSURO and he accepted it. Of course, the first thing you both paced was no feelings, and the moment one of you had them, you both stopped. What liars you were. You fell in love with him after only two months of this kind of contact. Meanwhile, he fell in love with you a month before you suggested it. Neither of you stopped, and each other's things began to decorate each other's homes. You both said it was to be more practical. What liars you were. You began to accompany him to events, and so did he. You said it was because these events made you horny. What liars you were. The way he stared at you, the way you smiled at you. Everyone thought you two were love birds, and you always denied it while he covered his blush. What liars you were.
SLOWBURN
KOTARO BOKUTO knew it the first time he saw you set the ball and asked you if you could help him practise his volleyball shots. You nodded. It wasn't perfect, but he still thought it was the best set he'd ever had. From that day on, he always tried to persuade you to go out with him, he always walked you home, invited you to his matches, and dedicated all his spikes to you. He was such a sucker of you. Sadly, the years at your side were coming to an end, you were about to graduate and go to a university in Tokyo, and he still had one year left. On your graduation’s night, he payed you a visit with a bouquet of flowers in his hands and a deep confession of love in his heart. Finally, after 238 invitations, 121 gifts, 98 spikes dedicated to you, 34 confessions of love, 10 deep conversations, 8 kisses and 1 emotional goodbye, you accepted him.
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bytemee · 1 day ago
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EVERYTHING I WANT — yu jimin.
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"i had finally figured out, you were just around the corner."
synopsis. you’re just the wedding planner for your brother’s wedding, trying to keep it all together. but karina, his fiancée, keeps slipping under your skin. she’s perfect—everything you’ve ever wanted—but she’s marrying your brother.
pairing. brothers!fiance!karina x wedding!planner!fem!reader
warning(s). angst w a mixture of fluff, love triangle, cheating (im sorry), angst with a happy ending.
words. 5.7k
authors note. i remember watching a gay movie like this.
navigation. main masterlist.
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karina has a way of capturing the attention of everyone in a room, and her presence alone is enough to make the world pause. she walks in, all bright eyes and effortless grace, and somehow the entire room shifts to accommodate her. it’s almost like she belongs in a space much grander than this, but then, that’s karina—always radiant, always a little untouchable.
you’ve noticed it countless times before—it's part of the reason why your parents are so calm with the idea of your brother marrying her only months after they've met. karina—your brother’s fiancée, the one they think is perfect in every way. karina—the one who is everything they always hoped for in a partner for him. karina—the one who practically begged you to plan her wedding.
you have to admit, they make a beautiful couple. the way karina and your brother stand in the kitchen, laughing over something she said while she chops vegetables, her hands moving easily, like she’s done this a hundred times. your brother’s smiling at her like she’s the only person in the world. it’s all so natural, so effortless. you can’t deny that they love each other—it’s one of those things you just know. like the feeling of the ground beneath your feet or the wind against your skin. it’s just a fact.
it was the first time in a while you've been to their house, but your brother practically forced you into staying at his while you planned the wedding. they don't seem to mind, which is probably good considering you've taken over the living room as a workspace, with papers and decorations and fabric samples spread out across the coffee table and the couch.
but regardless, the two haven't decided on a venue yet, so the planning process is still in full swing. you had a list of about five venues you thought were promising, and you were hoping they'd settle on one soon so you could stop having to lug around your binder everywhere.
karina finishes up her task and sets the knife down, washing her hands off before she turns to you.
she walks over with that signature smile of hers, the one that makes everything seem like it’s shining just a little brighter. “hey, can we talk about the venue options for a sec?” she asks, her voice smooth like velvet, like it always is.
you glance up from the pile of papers in front of you, your gaze meeting hers for a second too long. the way she’s standing there, close enough to reach out and touch, makes it hard to focus. you blink, trying to get your head back in the game. “uh, yeah, sure. what’s on your mind?”
she leans against the back of the couch, her arms crossing lightly over her chest. “i know we’ve got some good options, but…” she hesitates for a moment, as if carefully considering her next words. “i’ve always wanted a wedding on the beach. you know, like those dreamy ones you see in magazines?”
you freeze for a moment, your fingers lingering over the corner of your binder. the beach. you can’t help the pang that hits you when she says it, because it's something you've always imagined for your own wedding one day, not anyone else’s. it’s silly, of course—you shouldn't have gotten so attached to a fantasy. but you can't help it. you'd always imagined a wedding on the beach, with the sun setting over the waves and sand beneath your feet.
she tilts her head a little, as if trying to figure out what's wrong. when you don't say anything, she speaks again, her tone more gentle. "are you okay?"
you try to shake it off, but karina always seems to notice everything. it's a little bit impressive, really. "oh, i'm fine. just a little tired." you quickly speak again before she can question you further. “you know, your fiancé’s pretty set on that greenhouse. it’s a pretty big deal for him.”
she nods, a small frown tugging at her lips. “i know,” she says softly. “i just can’t help but dream of the beach.” she pauses, then her eyes soften, and she adds with a little more playfulness, "i’ll let you handle the tough decisions. you’re the expert here, after all.”
you hate to let her down, but the odds of convincing your brother to change his mind are low. the greenhouse was his idea, and it means a lot to him, since your father married your mom there years ago. he had talked about wanting to recreate that day, the way the light filtered in through the glass, the flowers all around. his eyes had sparkled as he spoke, like he could imagine the entire scene unfolding before him. you couldn’t bring yourself to say no, not when he had been so excited.
you give a small laugh. “i’m just the wedding planner. you’re the one who has to live with the choice.”
she grins at you before walking away.
but even though you tell yourself it won't be your fault if she doesn't get her dream wedding, the guilt doesn't go away. you just hope she won't hate you for not being able to deliver the perfect day she's been waiting for.
you watch as she heads back over to the kitchen, your gaze lingering on her a little longer than it should. her smile is bright as ever, the one you're not sure you've ever seen her without, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
you swallow, then return to your work.
the venue. you can't get distracted. you're good at your job. you can do this.
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the next few days pass in a flurry of phone calls and emails, and you're barely keeping track of which venue you're supposed to be going to see next. you've visited a handful, but it seems like they've all had the same issue—they don't have the space for the kind of wedding karina's dreaming of.
the pressure is starting to wear on you. you’ve been juggling so many details, from flowers to photographers to caterers, but every venue just feels off in one way or another. some are too big, some too small. others don’t have the kind of beachy vibe karina’s been dreaming of, and you can tell she’s starting to get a little discouraged.
you can see the way her shoulders slump when another place doesn’t meet her expectations, the way she tries to mask her disappointment with that perfect smile of hers. it’s hard to watch. but you also know this is her dream, her wedding. she deserves to have everything she’s envisioned for years.
“i swear, if i see one more ballroom…” you mutter under your breath, flipping through another round of emails, trying to see if any of the new suggestions could work.
karina, seated across from you in the café, lets out a small laugh. “you’re telling me. but we’ve got to keep looking, right?”
you look up, meeting her gaze for the first time in a while. she looks exhausted, her makeup a little faded from a long day of venue tours, but her smile is as warm as ever. it makes your heart ache.
you swallow, then turn back to your phone. "yeah. yeah, we do." you take a sip of your drink, not even removing your eyes from the screen. "i've been hearing a lot of good things about this one place, though."
karina leans forward, her elbows resting on the table. "which one?"
but before you can reply, a giggle leaves her lips, and she points to the side of your nose. "oh my god, you've got whipped cream on your nose. let me…"
her hand reaches out, and then she's touching you, her thumb brushing over the tip of your nose, sending shivers down your spine. she pulls her hand back, a little whipped cream on her thumb.
she smiles. "got it."
you blink, and your brain short-circuits for a second. her touch was so fleeting, but the warmth lingers.
she doesn't notice, already turned back to your phone ready to see the venue you were muttering about.
you exhale. the venue. right. focus.
and then, it happens.
when you get back home, an hour later you hear it from the other room—a loud argument, your brother's voice booming, and karina's pleading for him to just listen. your eyes widen. you'd never heard her raise her voice like that before.
they’ve always been so perfect together, but now, the disagreement over the wedding venue seems to be pushing things too far. you can’t make out the exact words, but you catch a few—the beach, the greenhouse, and your name a couple of times. the door slams shortly after, and everything falls silent.
you glance at the door leading to the hallway, torn between going to see what’s going on and staying out of it. the last thing you want is to get caught in the middle of their argument, but part of you can't help but feel concerned. this isn’t like them—karina, always the picture of composure, and your brother, usually so patient. it doesn’t add up.
you hear footsteps and then a quiet knock at the door. "are you awake?"
you take a deep breath. "yeah, come in."
the door opens, and karina walks in, looking as stunning as ever. her face is still flushed from the argument, but her hair is swept to the side, the light catching on her earrings. even in a moment like this, she's effortlessly beautiful.
"hey," you say softly, motioning toward the couch. "are you okay?"
she sits down beside you, her body relaxing a little, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. she nods, taking a deep breath before speaking. "i'm fine. we're fine."
you tilt your head, not fully believing her. you've been friends for years, after all. you can tell when she's holding something back. "are you sure? because i heard—"
"we're fine," she repeats, a little more firmly.
you nod, but you still feel unsure. it's clear they need some time to themselves, and you can't force her to tell you what's going on. “you know,” you say, shifting beside her, “if you need a break, we could do something completely different. a distraction. a moment just for you.”
she looks at you, eyes wide, clearly intrigued by the offer. “like what?”
a slow grin spreads across your face. “let’s get food for starters. and then…"
she cuts you off before you can finish. "as long as it involves wine, i'm in."
the smile is back, and your heart aches with it. you've missed seeing her smile, the way her eyes crinkle at the edges, her whole body seeming lighter. it's a feeling you never want to let go of.
without missing a beat, you get up and grab your keys. “perfect. let's go!"
you hold your hand out, and her fingers are warm in yours as you lead her out the door.
the two of you end up parked in front of a small, neon-lit burger joint tucked away on a quiet street. it’s one of those old-school places with a bright red roof and a hand-painted menu board by the drive-thru. it looks like it hasn't changed much since it was built decades ago, but that's exactly why you love it.
karina’s sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat, the bottle of wine you impulsively grabbed resting between you. you’d managed to snag a couple of burgers and fries to go, and now the two of you are tucked away in the car, sharing fries like you’re the only people in the world.
“this is so random,” she says, laughing softly. she’s still got a bit of a flush from earlier—whether from the wine or the argument, you’re not sure. but for now, you try not to think about it. you don't want to ruin the moment.
“that’s what makes it perfect,” you reply, passing her a fry. she takes it with a smile, your fingers brushing briefly. your heart trips over itself at the contact, and you reach for the bottle of wine to take another sip. it’s not the fanciest vintage, but it’s doing the job.
karina takes the bottle next, swiping at the neck before drinking straight from it. when she lowers it, her eyes are sparkling with something mischievous. “i always liked the idea of writing my vows on something unconventional,” she says suddenly, resting her head against the seat. “like in the movies. you know, scribbled on the back of a napkin or a burger wrapper. something spontaneous and real.”
you can’t help but laugh. “we’ve got burger wrappers right here.”
her eyes light up. “you’re kidding.”
“i’m not.”
she sets down the bottle and grabs the crumpled wrappers from the bag. “alright. let’s do it. right here, right now. our mock wedding.”
you raise an eyebrow. this was not how you thought the night was going to go, but then again, karina has always been full of surprises. she looks so excited at the idea; you can't bring yourself to say no. you're already in this deep, after all.
you grab a pen from the glove compartment, the tipsy energy between you growing contagious. you hand it over, and karina carefully smooths out one of the wrappers on her lap.
“alright,” she declares, biting back a grin. “i vow to always share my fries with you. even the crispy ones.”
you snort. “that’s a big promise.”
“and i vow to never judge you for eating burgers at midnight,” she adds, her grin widening.
“okay, my turn,” you say, leaning in. “i vow to always keep you stocked up on wine and burgers. and fries. all the good stuff. just in case of an emergency, of course. or for a spontaneous road trip. whichever comes first, i guess."
you're both giggling, and then her smile softens. she looks at you with those eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the world falls away. then her expression shifts. she takes a deep breath, fingers toying with the pen. “one more,” she says, her voice quieter now. “i vow to always be someone you can turn to, no matter what. even when things get messy or complicated.”
her eyes are still on yours, and you can't bring yourself to break the contact. you feel like the air has been knocked out of your lungs, and it's almost too much, too fast.
you finally manage to get the words out, your voice coming out a little strained. "i promise too."
karina smiles softly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from your face. “let’s go somewhere,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“where?” you ask, still breathless.
she glances at the horizon, where the stars are just beginning to scatter across the night sky. “the beach.”
without another word, you put the car in drive and head toward the coast. the streets are quiet, the hum of the tires against the road the only sound as the town fades behind you. it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist—just you, karina, and the open road.
when you arrive, the beach is deserted, bathed in moonlight and the soft crashing of waves. you both kick off your shoes and walk toward the shoreline, the sand cool beneath your feet. karina stops just shy of the water, turning to face you.
“alright,” she says, holding out her hand. “let’s make this official.”
you laugh, taking her hand. “this is the most spontaneous fake wedding i’ve ever been a part of.”
her grin is wide, a little wild, like she’s already planning something outrageous. “just wait until our real wedding. then it’ll really be a show.”
the words hit you harder than expected—our real wedding. your mind flashes with an image: karina walking down the aisle, her dress swishing with every elegant step, her smile lighting up the whole room.
karina squeezes your hand gently, bringing you back to reality. "are you ready?"
you give her a tiny nod. “i’m ready.”
she turns to face you, her smile dimming just enough to make the moment feel serious. she takes a steadying breath before starting. “i vow to always share my fries with you—even the crispy ones.”
you grin. "i vow to not get jealous when you share your fries with someone else."
"that's a fair point." she pauses for a moment, glancing at the moon overhead. when she speaks again, her voice is softer. "i vow to not forget about all the nights we've stayed up talking, the sun just starting to rise, and how i could listen to your voice forever. and i vow to always be someone you can count on, no matter what."
her words make your heart ache. you swallow, trying to push down the feeling. "i vow to never give up, even when things get tough. even when everything's changing around us. and i vow to always be a place you can run to."
the words hang between you for a moment, and you feel like the whole world has stopped. everything feels surreal, like a dream, the kind you're afraid of waking up from. then she steps closer, so close you can feel the warmth radiating off her. her next words are softer, more serious, the playfulness stripped away. “do you vow to take me to the best burger joints at midnight?”
your voice is quieter now too. “i do.”
“do you vow to share your fries with me, even the crispy ones?”
“i do.”
she takes a small, shaky breath, her gaze locked on yours. “and do you vow to always be my friend? to stand by me, even when things get hard or messy?”
your throat tightens, but somehow you manage to speak. “i do.”
karina’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t smile fully. there's something vulnerable in her expression, like she's revealing a piece of herself she's never shown before. "do you promise to always remember tonight? how special this moment is?"
"i do."
she nods, her eyes shining. "good. because i do, too."
her gaze drops to your lips, and you realize what she's doing a second too late. before you can even process what's happening, her mouth is on yours, warm and soft and sweet. it's the kind of kiss you feel all the way down to your toes, the kind that makes the rest of the world disappear.
it's everything and nothing all at once.
then the moment passes, and she's pulling away, a little breathless. "i'm sorry. i just…"
you blink, trying to find the right words, but nothing comes out.
she swallows, then steps back, her cheeks flushed. "i'm sorry, i don't know what came over me. that was stupid. we should go."
she turns and walks off, her footsteps echoing through the darkness. you watch her leave, not daring to say anything, because if you speak, you'll break the spell. you'll wake up from this dream, and it'll all be gone, and this moment will be lost forever.
karina speedwalks to your car, her ears hot and her head spinning. what the hell did i just do? she opens the car door and climbs in, her body feeling weightless. the kiss was an impulse, a split-second decision, and now she's left wondering why the hell she thought it was a good idea.
you get in the car a moment later, your expression unreadable. you're silent for a few beats, then you clear your throat. "here take my jacket," you say, reaching over to drape it around her shoulders. "you look cold."
her chest tightens. of course, you're being kind and sweet. god, why did she have to ruin the moment?
she takes the jacket, but it does nothing to warm the chill that's seeped into her bones. she's so confused. one minute, she's getting engaged, and the next, she's kissing you, the one person who's never given her a reason to doubt. she feels like she's falling apart, piece by piece.
"let's get you home," you say quietly, starting the car.
karina nods, her eyes focused on the window. the rest of the ride is silent, neither of you daring to say a word.
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a month passed since that night—the kiss that left you spinning and karina’s unexpected confession. you’d both fallen into a strange rhythm after that. conversations were shorter, more careful, as if the words had to be handled with gloves. and though things seemed okay on the surface, there was a distance that neither of you knew how to bridge.
she was still okay with the greenhouse. you’d finalized every last detail together, but it felt like neither of you were talking about what really mattered. instead, you both threw yourselves into the wedding planning like it was the only way to keep moving forward.
it was just after midnight when you found yourself back in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. it had been a long day, and your mind was still racing. you stood there for a while, sipping slowly, mind wandering.
the front door creaked open. your brother stumbled in, his suit rumpled, tie hanging loosely around his neck. his eyes were bloodshot, and he reeked of whiskey and something faintly floral—perfume. you could guess what had happened.
“company celebration,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “big news… big, big news.”
you wrapped an arm around him and helped him upstairs. he leaned on you heavily, his usually confident demeanor dulled by the alcohol. when you sat him down on the edge of your bed, you noticed it—lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt, faint but undeniable.
your stomach twisted. you swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. it was none of your business. after all, she cheated as well...with you.
after he passed out, you quietly shut the door and went back downstairs. there was no sleep to be found, not when your thoughts were tangled in the events of what's happened over the past three months—the kiss, karina’s sudden agreement to the greenhouse wedding, the lipstick stains. it was too much.
you sat at the dining room table and pulled out your laptop. the wedding planning documents filled the screen, emails flooding in with suggestions and changes. you worked mindlessly, letting the repetition of it all keep your thoughts at bay.
the hours bled into one another, and before you knew it, pale sunlight was breaking through the windows. your eyes burned, your muscles ached, but you couldn’t stop.
footsteps behind you made you freeze.
karina.
her hair was a mess of loose waves, and she wore one of those oversized pajama shirts she loved. she had two mugs of coffee in hand, the familiar scent of hazelnut filling the room. without a word, she placed one in front of you.
“you’ve been up all night,” she said quietly.
“i had things to do,” you answered, not meeting her eyes.
karina sighed, taking in the dark circles under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. “you’re burning yourself out.”
when you didn’t say anything, she walked around the table and stood behind you. her hands found your shoulders, fingers pressing gently into the knots there. she massaged in slow circles, her thumbs working out the tightness you hadn’t even noticed.
her voice was soft as she spoke, barely more than a whisper. "you should get some sleep. you can't keep doing this."
but you were too tired, too worn down, to respond. you couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of her hands on your shoulders, the warmth of her touch sinking into your skin.
she leaned down, her breath tickling your ear. "can we talk?"
"yeah," you managed.
karina let go and moved to the seat across from you. she looked like she was struggling with something, the same look from the night at the beach, when she had asked you to promise her to remember. her fingers tapped on the mug. you could tell she was stalling, trying to decide what to say, but eventually, the words came.
"i'm sorry."
you were sorry too. for so many things, but you didn't say them out loud. instead, you just nodded.
"i never meant for this to happen," she said. "but it's all getting a little too much."
you were exhausted. tired of everything—the wedding, the kiss, the feelings. tired of being the planner. tired of pretending everything was fine when it wasn't.
karina's gaze dropped to her hands, her voice small. "i didn't mean to make things weird between us. i just didn't know what to do."
"it's okay," you replied, because it was all you could say.
"it's not," she insisted. "you're my best friend. i don't want to lose that."
she was right. you were her best friend. she was supposed to be marrying your brother, not making out with you at midnight. the thought sent a shiver down your spine.
"we'll get through this. together." you tried to sound convincing, but it fell flat.
"will we?" her voice was barely audible. "you've been pushing me away for weeks. i can tell."
you shook your head, but it was pointless. the truth was staring you in the face, and it wasn't pretty.
karina sighed, her gaze lifting from the table to meet yours. "i'm sorry. i don't want things to be awkward between us. i don't want this to change things."
her eyes were filled with such honesty and vulnerability, it made your chest ache. you wanted to reach out, hold her, and reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but you couldn't. you couldn't bring yourself to lie.
you rubbed your hands over your face, trying to ease the tension building behind your eyes. the words were stuck, clawing at your throat, desperate to escape. but what could you say?everything was so tangled.
“i’m not pushing you away,” you finally managed, though it felt hollow. “i just… don’t know how to handle all this.”
she gave you a weak smile, but her eyes were still sad.
the silence stretched between you, growing heavier with each passing moment. neither of you knew what to say.
“i don’t want to hurt you,” she said suddenly, her voice trembling.
your stomach twisted, and you had to look away. “you’re not hurting me.”
it was a lie, and you both knew it. but what good would the truth do?
karina sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. she looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept in days. maybe she hadn’t. “i just want us to be okay. like before.”
“before,” you repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. before everything. before the kiss. before you saw your brother stumble in last night, lipstick stains betrayed his lies.
she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "yeah, before. like we promised in our vows."
you let out a breath. was she really bringing this up now? "our fake vows."
karina flinched, as if your words had physically struck her. she looked at you, her eyes pleading. "you promised to always remember that night. that's not nothing."
you closed your eyes, trying to block out the memory. it was a mistake. a stupid, impulsive decision. one you shouldn't have made. one you shouldn't be thinking about.
"look, it's fine. we'll just forget it ever happened. like we're supposed to."
"are we?"
you stared at her, your throat tightening. "yes. because that's what's best. for everyone."
she swallowed, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "okay. if that's what you want."
"it is." the words were heavy, weighing on your chest, crushing the air from your lungs.
"alright. then i guess we should go back to planning."
she forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. the conversation was over.
and that was it. you tried not to think about the kiss or the way her hand had felt in yours. but the memories lingered, refusing to let go.
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the day of the wedding arrived. you stood at the back of the greenhouse, feeling out of place as the carefully chosen flowers, delicate white drapes, and twinkling fairy lights filled the space with a sense of serenity that felt foreign to you. everything about this moment was supposed to be beautiful, perfect, just as your brother had imagined. but you couldn’t shake the unease that knotted in your stomach.
the ceremony was supposed to feel like a celebration, a milestone in their lives. but it wasn’t. the sight of your brother, standing at the altar with the priest, waiting for karina, made something inside you tighten. he was smiling, his hands clasped together in anticipation. but the thought of him with her—knowing everything that had happened between the two of you—suddenly felt wrong. not to mention what he did himself.
and then, she appeared.
karina entered, her arm linked with your father’s, walking down the aisle with the grace of someone who belonged in a dream. the flowing ivory gown clung to her figure in a way that made your breath catch. the soft music playing in the background seemed to fade as you watched her approach, unable to tear your eyes away.
her gaze flickered to you for the briefest of moments. it was only a glance, but it held so much. the quiet acknowledgment that things weren’t the way they were supposed to be. that this wasn’t how it was supposed to feel.
you could barely breathe. you had promised to be strong, to be there for her. but seeing her like this, walking down the aisle toward your brother, was impossible. all the promises you had made, all the words you had told her in the days leading up to this, suddenly felt so hollow. she wasn’t yours. she never had been, and yet, everything inside you screamed that she should be.
you couldn’t stay.
without thinking, you turned and quietly slipped out of the greenhouse, avoiding the curious glances of your family. the sounds of the ceremony, the murmurs of the guests, faded as you walked, faster and faster, until you were outside, out of the view of the guests, heading straight for the beach.
the water was cool, the sand soft beneath your feet, the gentle breeze soothing. but it wasn't enough. you could still feel the ache in your chest, the heaviness that had settled there the moment you saw karina walking down the aisle.
you had been so certain that you could do this, that you could keep your promise and be there for her, no matter what. but now, standing on the beach, the waves washing over your feet, you realize how foolish it had been to think that.
you sank to the sand, burying your face in your hands. how had things gotten this far? how had everything become so tangled, so complicated, so fast? and why did it feel like your heart was being torn in two?
you were torn in so many directions, your mind spinning with thoughts of karina, of the kiss, of your brother, and of everything that had led to this moment. you wanted to scream, to let the confusion and frustration pour out of you, but you couldn’t. you couldn’t make sense of it all.
everything felt like it was unraveling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. the hurt, the guilt, the love that you couldn’t seem to let go of—it all washed over you, suffocating you. you loved her. you had always loved her, but it was wrong. she was marrying your brother. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be the one to feel this way.
but the feeling was there, as real as the sand beneath your feet and the wind against your skin. you couldn't deny it, no matter how hard you tried.
"y/n."
your heart skipped a beat. you looked up, and there she was, standing at the edge of the sand. karina, still in her wedding dress, the fabric flowing around her as she stepped toward you, barefoot.
"y/n," she repeated, her voice soft, almost pleading.
you were frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. your throat tightened; the words stuck.
“what are you doing here?” you managed to ask, your voice wavering.
“i couldn’t let you go,” she said, her voice breathless. “i can’t let you walk away from me. not like this.”
you stood up, unsure of what to say, but before you could form any words, karina was running toward you, her wedding dress trailing behind her. she didn’t stop until she was right in front of you, her hands trembling as she reached for yours.
"i can’t marry him," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "not when i feel like this. not when it’s you i want."
the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your mind raced. "karina, this isn’t—"
"i don’t care," she interrupted. "i can’t pretend anymore. i’m sorry. i should’ve told you sooner. i should’ve never let you go, even when i knew how wrong it was. but i can’t marry him when i’m in love with you."
you blinked, staring at her. in love with you. she was in love with you. the words echoed in your head, and you couldn't find the strength to speak.
"y/n, please. say something."
karina’s face crumpled, and she stepped closer, her hands trembling as she cupped your face. “please,” she whispered, “don’t let me lose you. you're everything i want."
her touch was warm, and you couldn't help but lean into it. she was so close, and you could feel her heartbeat, her breathing, her warmth. it was intoxicating, and before you knew what you were doing, your lips met hers, gentle and tender, as if she was afraid of breaking you.
but you couldn't break. not when she was kissing you like this. not when her lips were so soft, and her arms were around your waist, pulling you closer. it felt like the world was shifting, the ground giving way beneath your feet. but she was there, holding onto you, her grip tight and desperate, like she was afraid of losing you.
the kiss deepened, and everything else fell away. all you could feel was her. all you could think about was how right it felt, how perfect it was, and how this was the moment you had been waiting for. you were home, in her arms, and nothing else mattered.
the kiss broke, and karina pulled back, her breathing ragged. her eyes were bright, full of emotion, and you knew yours were the same.
"i love you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "i love you, and i'm sorry i didn't realize it sooner."
the words washed over you, and for the first time, everything felt right.
"i love you too," you breathed, not caring that it was wrong or that you shouldn't be saying it. you couldn't stop yourself, and the feeling of finally letting the words out was overwhelming. "you're everything i want…and more."
her eyes widened, and then a smile tugged at her lips, wide and bright, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. she kissed you again, fierce and passionate, and you could feel her joy, her relief, her love. it was the kind of kiss that made your heart swell, that made you feel like you were floating, and nothing could ever come between you.
"i'm yours," she whispered against your lips, her voice breaking. "i'll always be yours."
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apocalyqsc · 1 day ago
Text
photoshoot tension
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cw; divorced!jensen a. x personal assistant!reader—afab!reader, smut, slight mutual pinning, tension, reader imagines sex w jensen before it happens, arguing, drunk makeup sex, unprotected sex (wrap ‘fore u tap), oral (m! recipient), maybe breeeding kink, age gap (jensen is obviously in his fourties, reader is in their twenties), probably wrote the getting drunk wrong because I’ve never drank before so erm help, morning after.
author’s note; so ik he’s married but what’s better than if he was freshly divorced so uhm yeah, i actually love his wife so i hope they never get divorced but it’s the thought that counts </3
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JENSEN under the white flashing lights just stirred up every emotion in you. but he’s just divorced—it’s a clean slate for him. and you can’t jump onto him as soon as it happens. though nobodies stopping you from making up scenarios of whatever you wanted.
to sex in an motel to his dressing room. their were a lot of places. but oh, scrub those thoughts away. quickly.
after the photoshoot, jensen had disappeared to his dressing room. your heart pounded in your chest, all the way to your ribs. you knocked on the door, his gruff reply telling you to come in. you slowly opened the door as you slipped in the room. “so tomorrow you have a day off—but sunday you have another photoshoot,” you rambled off. you weren’t really focusing on him (in fear the impounding thoughts of an inappropriate relationship with you and him would start back up).
“slow down.” jensen let out a soft huff. you had a strange habit to ramble off about plans, it gave you a unique character. but it could also be extremely annoying. that’s what jensen liked about you. it’s why he kept you around to begin with, well, whenever most people would go home. you’d stay. and he wouldn’t say anything “cancel sunday.” “but—” “cancel sunday, okay?” he stared at you sternly. he understood it was nudging towards valentine’s day, yeah—he knew. he just needed a break from all the chaos.
your breath hitched in frustration whenever you had to take the pen and cross out sunday. “you really shouldn’t cancel this photoshoot.” you muttered in yet again, more annoyance.
jensen rolled his eyes, “it’s fine.” you cut your eyes up at him, finally looking away from the calendar.
“no it’s not. it’s coming closer to valentine’s day and you need to give your fans something—i know you’ve been going through a divorce and all, but life sucks. you can’t cancel, it took me months to get the photoshoot booked.” you said, your annoyance rising. you weren’t sure if you meant it or not. but it was a ‘in the moment’ spur. that’s what made jensen upset. he wasn’t feeling very valentiney the month. out of all the months, he had to get divorced finalized in february.
he rolled his eyes, “well once you go through a divorce in february, you won’t be in the mood for cupid photoshoots.” he shoved off the chair he was sitting in, brushing past you. you let out a scoff as he left, obviously leaving. so in time being, the both of you were at an impasse, a deadlock. though neither of you liked that. not at all. not one bit. there were tensions left unsaid, more than just argument tension. built up, sexual, passion tension.
“jensen, you can’t leave without talking to me!” you huffed in annoyance. he very well could. he was a grown man. though his schedule was handled by a person who was half his age. he ran his fingers through his hair as he walked away. only stopping to cut an eye at you.
ՙ ૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა .
it was god knows what time, but you found jensen at a local bar, seemingly avoiding paparazzi. you took a seat beside him, muttering a soft apology. he gave you a court nod. he ordered for the bartender to bring out yet another beer for the ‘pretty girl’ quote his words. it was a good idea. not one bit. but you couldn’t just waste the beer. that’s, that’s not good for the environment.
yeah, not good for the environment at all. but the one thing you didn’t do was spewl out an apology to him. your ego was apparently a little to big to apologize. you brought the glass to your lips, the foam from the beer collection on your upper lip. almost giving you a better mustache than jensen. jensen couldn’t help but let out a little snort, swiping his thumb across your upper lip, without warning. your breath hitched softly before pulling away from his thumb. “thanks. for the uhm beer.” you muttered, only making jensen grin deviously.
shy thing you were when it came to physical contact. “your welcome angel.” jensen whispered hoarsely as he brought his glass to his lips. “so, what’ve you been doing?” he asked you. their wasn’t much of a conversation to have with your personal assistant whenever they spent the whole day around you. so he knows what you’ve been doing. keeping him in line.
“oh nothin’ much” you slurred. “jus’ gettin’ li’l drunk now.” jensen cracked a smile, his hand finding the small of your back. it was a subtle movement, but an intimate one, at that. the soft smile from your lips almost—almost dropped into a derpy little grin. a drunk grin.
“oh yeah?” he mused with a grin a he took a gulp from his glass. “hope that works well for you.” you were definitely a little buzzed at this point, the way you were being so open to him is something you’d never do if you were fully sober. you shot a soft smile before going back to your drinking. from what he could tell, you were a lightweight, “don’t drink to much, ya need to be in the right mind to leave, don’tcha?”
“yeah.” you huffed, “but ‘t’s jus’ to good to leave unattended.” jensen much rather hang out with his personal assistant drunk than sober. god, sometimes you were a complete headache. he sent a soft smile your way as you kept drinking. though it was a few moments later, you were snagging your keys off the bar.
“leavin’ me so soon sweetheart?” he cocked his head at you. you were to fun to leave, “at least let me get you an uber, better yet, let me take you home.” you nodded, slapping your keys in his hand. you got up, and he followed after. you looked like an absolute angel drunk, especially under the bars flashing sign. but he wouldn’t admit that out loud. “now, which one is your car.”
you waved your finger in his face before landing it on a pretty black suv. “that one.” he placed his hand on your back, listening to your drunken rambling. again, total drunk angel. he unlocked the car, opening the passenger door for you. he stood behind you, making sure you didn’t fall onto your ass. jensen propped himself against the seat, reaching across to buckle you up. when he pulled away, your face had morphed into a little grin, and you burst out into little giggles. like a schoolgirl. it was adorable, really it was.
jensen walked around to the driver side. as he climbed into the car, turning the car on—it tumbled to life. you had slumped in your seat, getting a little shut eye time. when he drove to your house, the lights from the city’s lamp lights steady and slowly flashed by, jensen squinting every so slightly under the surprise of each light. he let out a soft breath, his gaze going over to you every so often.
he pulled into a place he new best; a motel. he wasn’t completely sure where you lived, nor did he want to take you to his place and have you gasp awake in fear that you got kidnapped. jensen turned the car off, getting out and walking to your side.
jensen tugged your body out the car. when he shut the door, you opened your eyes. “put me down,” you huffed drunkenly. though he wasn’t one to deny any one of anything, so he slowly placed you on your feet. you pressed yourself against him when you almost fell, staring up at him. it felt like a romance movie. but you were both a little buzzed. at least you were now a little bit buzzed from the effects of the drinking. jensen held you against his body, hands going to your hips.
he guided you inside, where he immediately walked to the clerk at the front desk. “hi. can i get a room, for me ‘n the pretty angel?” jensen said smoothly. the clerk looked up—not at all amused, not phased by jensen’s flirty behavior. she didn’t even take a double look at him, not noticing that he was literally -jensen-freaking-ackles.
he grabbed the keys from the clerk and guided you down to the room of the number on the key. jensen guided you in the room, and before the door was even shut, you were pressing your lips on his. “hey,” he let out soft breath, as he held your shoulders, pushing you away. “your drunk.” jensen brushed your hair with his fingers, guiding you to your bed.
you looked at him with puppy dog eyes, “please?” you let out a soft whine. he didn’t want to deny you. like, just look at that face. he let out a huff as he grabbed your hips, pulling you on top of him. you slowly grinded your clothed hip on his—immediately drawing a reaction from him from the motion. he shouldn’t have been doing this. maybe the beer was clouding his judgment. but, god damn did it feel good. “shit—careful” he said, grabbing a hold of your waist to stop you. jensen’s breath was warm—and already panting. he slowly lifted your hips to tug your pants down. he pulled them off your ankles, tossing them onto the floor. jensen ran his fingers along the pattern of your white floral lace. he pulled them off your body, carefully as they guided down your freshly shaved legs. his breath shuddered at the sight of your bare cunt on view to him. he sat up to guide your shirt off your body. and with years of practicing, used one hand to fall back to your bra clip—and unclipped it.
your breathing picked up as you fell to jensen’s pants, you pulled the button through the hole, pushing his pants down. following his boxers. as you pushed the items off him, you followed. you stopped at his cock—kissing it to life. your breath wavered at the sight of it as it sprung to life. you wrapped your hands around the base, licking the tip. testing the waters before you sunk your head around his erected member. you bobbed your head up and down on his member.
jensen’s hand came to make a makeshift ponytail out of your hair—guiding you up and down. jensen let out a noise slip through his lip, almost whimeper-y like, but a moan. you let out a muted gag, your hands falling away from the base of his member. “fu—mmh—ck!” you cried out. tears built up at your waterline. not in pain, but pleasure. he pulled your head up when he neared release.
“wanna do it in you—” jensen breathed breathlessly, “need’ya to be full of my come.”
you nodded softly. “m’kay.” you huffed out breathlessly—pulling yourself up. you sunk down onto his memeber, your head lolling backwards. letting out a soft moan. jensen held your hips in a vise as he guided you up and down on him, one of his hands shifting to rub your cunt in slow, soft circles. you walls clenched around him, the bed hit the wall ever so often. “jensen—ah—to big!”
jensen hummed, pulling your hair gently. “but your doin’ so good my angel.” he placed his hand back on your hip as the bounces started getting sloppy. “not to sloppy.” he drew his hand away from your cunt going to brush the hair out of your face. the way your face scrunched up—jensen let out soft grunts that were lower than your moans. with your head lolled back, mouth open, it tempted jensen. his thumb seemed towards your mouth. your moans got cut off by a gagging noise. his thumb had worked it’s way into your mouth. you bit down on his finger—but not to hardly.
jensen grinned when he felt you bit down “don’t hurt me angel.” he muttered softly.
the rain started up outside, it pitter-y patter-yied against the window and roof. the bed springs constantly screamed in protest under the movement. muffled noises of people talking came from the other rooms—and likewise, they heard the commotion located in three thirty-seven. occasionally a grumpy man would bang against the wall for the two of you to stop, but it never deterred the either of you.
with each bounce, with each muffled moan, with each grunt—both you and jensen neared closer to release. your walls clenched around him like clockwork. “come. come on my cock—c’mon.” he hummed, his hand on your hip, burning intentions into your skin, the same thumb rubbing circles on your hips. his other hand still in your mouth. and almost—in synch, like the command of you coming struck something in the both of you. jensen painted your gummy pink walls white, and your came around his cock.
you collapsed beside him, his limp member slipping out of you as you shifted off him. you kissed his chest sleepily. slowly falling asleep his seed warmed you right up. you closed your eyes—and fell asleep. but not jensen. he pulled you into his arms. and maybe he was regretting it. regretting it so terribly; you where his personal assistance. although guilt would have to wait til later—maybe at twelve pm tomorrow. but now, you two slept. you slept off the soreness of the sex.
when you woke up, the outside world was unaware of what had happened that night. completely unware that a freshly divorce actor had got it off with his personal assistant. the sun fought against the fog as it poured through the curtain, and jensen was in the shower.
you walked to the bathroom, opening the door. with a sleepy voice, you asked “got room for one more.” jensen pulled the curtain back, inviting you under the shower hose with him. the water acting a soothing mechanism. jensen used the motel soap—and a motel rag to clean your body off. you looked up at him with a soft—almost devious smile as you whispered a soft “thank you.” and maybe that was for last night—and maybe that was for him washing you. it was really to be interpreted anyway he preferred.
in a shaky breath, he whispered back an audible “your welcome” as he stared down your soapy body. jensen pressed his lips against yours, the rag dropping to the bathroom floor. when you pulled away, you both had a smile on your face. though the neither of you knew what this meant to your relationship. was it going to happen again? meant to be? or just a drunken mistake? you didn’t know. jensen didn’t know. but it sure as hell had some remarkable sex in it.
105 notes · View notes
snoopychris · 3 days ago
Text
loml
warnings: angst with foreplay, p in v, lots of mentions of pregnancy
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as much as the media could try to portray it as the best place on earth, sometimes it was the absolute worst. Hollywood. the only industry on earth where if you messed up once, forget about everything you had ever worked for. if you ended up on the wrong side of a breakup, forget about ever being seen on a red carpet again. if you had famous parents, forget about any credit ever being given to you– it would all tie back to your parents unless you were charming enough from a young age. luckily for you, thats right where you landed. you were Hollywood’s sweetheart from day one, known equally for your charm and being Jason Segel’s daughter. 
it was fairly known that you had never paid for any sort of role in your life. never getting anything just handed to you, no, you always worked for it. you were always known for working for it. known for trying to be as independent from your father’s projects and having your own. it wasnt a shocker to anybody when you had started your own clothing brand at age 21. it was at the launch party when you first met matt. the youtube boy— who was skyrocketing to fame with his brothers on their own accord— right there at your party. like the rest of the world you had seen him online before, but it was so different in person.
whereas his online persona was the quiet one of the group, the one who got the least amount of action, his real and true self was the exact opposite. he was charming in every sense of the word. 
even with all the flashing lights and loud noises that should’ve been distracting you, even with the constant nagging from the photographers and interviews around you, and even with your dads constant tugs on your arm to get you to pay attention, all you could manage to focus on was him. and the same way you could only focus on him, matt could only focus on you. 
nick was nagging him to take a few pictures, chris was begging him to light up just one more time, his manager was trying to pull him away to go get some publicity. the distractions just weren’t working. for either of you. and when the both of you finally locked eyes, you both just knew. complete strangers at the start of the night, but by the end of the celebration, it was the start of the best love story hollywood had seen in recent years.
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one month in. 
the giggling in the house was all that could be heard. it had been nonstop for hours at this point. chris and nick would usually be sick of the lack of silence in the house, but seeing their brother so happy made it more than okay. they could have left a while ago, but it was a lot more fun to watch this love story unfold than to go to a random store to shop. you and matt just fit so perfectly together. even the lines on your palms managed to match up. it’s like somebody in the heavens above had made one person and split them into two bodies. that’s just how perfect it all was. 
the two of you hadn’t been seen together in public yet— much to the dismay of the paparazzi who had seen the spark that ignited at your party— but it was better this way. even without an official label, it was better to keep some stuff more public. this wasn’t their relationship after all, it was yours. it was yours and it was everything both of you had ever needed and more. there wasnt a single second where anything felt wrong. it was nothing but mutual love and happiness. 
“hey lovebirds we’re going to In-n-Out, do you guys want anything?” Chris asks, grabbing onto his car keys from the table. it feels like its part of a movie script when both of you reply with the same thing. “plain double-double with fries!” the grip you had on matt’s shirt tightens when you break out in another fit of giggles, face burying into his chest as he holds onto you as if you were about to leave him forever. Chris smiles at his brothers actions, following nick out the front door. “Nick fifty bucks says the get married.” Chris whispers, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. Nick shakes his head in denial, pushing his brothers wallet back. “it wouldnt be smart for me to bet against it. i know they’ll get married.”
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three months in. 
for the first time in your entire Hollywood career, you had a date to a red carpet that wasnt your father. this time, Matt was right by your side for the entire night. the outfits the two of you wore were coordinated to one anothers to the last detail. your dior converse-style shoes matched matt’s tie, your baby pink dress matched matt’s baby pink suit, your headband matched his belt, and even though the cameras would never see it, even your undergarments were matching. his grip on your waist was tight, as if making sure that nobody got too close to you or to make sure that nobody was bothering you. the flashes coming from the crowd were constant and expected, but this time just felt so different than all the times before. 
this time it felt like the moment was being photographed, not the people. it felt like every good feeling in the world all tied into one with a ribbon. matt’s whispers of silent nothings into your ears just made it all better. one picture in particular made magazine covers. an image in which matt was gripping onto one of your hands while his eyes were locked onto your lips and his free hand was pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, all while you were looking directly into his eyes while the rain began pouring over the previously sunny california skies. it looked like it could be straight from a romcom. it seemed like your relationship was straight out of a romcom. 
when the event was over, there was no question about where you would end up. your apartment was nice and quiet— far enough from downtown los angeles to give you the privacy you so desperately needed sometimes, but close enough to be within a drivable distance to the constant events and shoots you had to do. upon arrival, matt’s soft lips were kissing all over your body in the most loving way possible, words in between every phrase that left his mouth as if he were writing a poem and you were his muse. “my sweet girl” kiss “god, am i lucky.” kiss. “this is everything i could’ve ever asked for and more” kiss. “you make me feel things nobody’s ever made me feel before.” kiss. “you truly reformed me, darling.” kiss. the last kiss was the most passionate. it was just so genuine. you couldn’t believe the sort of life you were living right now.
“you’re such a romantic, y’know that matt?” you whisper, hands moving to loosen his tie. both of you knew that the night would end up like this from the moment it started, but it was the best possible outcome. he shrugs as he lays you down onto your bed gently, stripping you of your clothes as well as his. he doesn’t hesitate to slide into you as soon as he has a condom on, pulling you into another passionate kiss.
his hand lays on the back of your neck as he begins to move in a gentle pace, making sure that the entire time you felt safe, comfortable, and most importantly, loved. this wasn’t just any act of sex the way both of you had experienced with others before, this was the act of lovemaking. in a way, it was like losing your virginity all over again because of how different it was. in the post-coital bliss the two of you were experiencing, matt still nestled in side you, the words just slipped from his mouth. “i love you. i love you so much.” you smile up at him, your eyes saying everything that he needed to know, but it didn’t take long for your mouth to catch up. “i love you.”
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six months in.
“are you sure i look okay? i just… im really trying to make a good first impression and y-your mom seems so sweet but what if she doesn’t like me. or what if she thinks my outfit is ridiculous and that you could do so much better than me and what if she jus-” your rambling was cut off by a sudden kiss, breaking you free from the grasps of your mind and its cruel words. “you look beautiful. she’s gonna love it. she’s gonna love you just as much as i do.” he whispers, his hand resting on your thigh as he pulled into his family’s Boston driveway. your flight had landed an hour ago, and the hour between your arrival to Boston and your arrival to his house was one of the most stressful hours of your life. his words of reassurance were more than what you needed. 
the dinner went better than you could’ve ever imagined. matt was right. his parents loved you. his brothers seemed to only love you even more. it was as if you had always been a part of the family. his hand had never left your grip, holding your small hand tightly in his. he wanted to put a ring on it so badly. but he knew it was too soon. he knew it wasn’t time yet. his mother seemed to know just what he was thinking by the end of the night. while you were sitting in the living room having a small chat with nick, matt got pulled aside by none other than marylou. 
he hadn’t done anything wrong all night, so he truly had no idea what it could be about. he was quite worried to be completely honest. “i want you to propose with grandmas ring. you tell me when you’re ready and i’ll give it to you. you guys are just so good together that i can sense that it’s going to happen. i’m so happy for you my dear boy.” she whispers, tears forming in her eyes as she speaks. her thumb brushes over matt’s cheek before she gets pulled into a tight hug, a whisper filling her ear. “i promise you’ll be the first to know mama.”
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one year in
“this just in! bum bum bum!!!” you joke, matt’s grip on you only tightening at your words. “matt sturniolo keeps americas sweetheart locked in a 10 by 15 foot bedroom in order to keep her with him at all times. stay tuned to see how the story unfolds.” matt lets out a loud laugh at your words, fingers pushing through your hair. “yeah okay princess if that’s what you think this is.” he replies, a kiss being pressed to your forehead. you giggle as you sit up on his waist, hands playing with a loose string on his shirt. he can’t help but admire you in this moment. “matt cmon i haven’t been home—my own home— in three days! i still have a family y’know. plus… my jelly cats miss me” 
“so move in with me.” he whispers. your heart stops. you think he’s just pulling some sort of prank on you. it’s just too out of the blue to be real. “matt don’t play like that.” you mumble, burying your head in the crook of his neck. “i’m not playing! i just think… we spend so much time together anyway… you’ve got the money and i’ve got the money… we’d finally have some privacy. we could even get an apartment together instead of moving into yours.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “okay.” you whisper back, nodding against his neck. he can’t believe his ears. “okay? wait so we’re moving in together?” he asks excitedly, laughing when you nod and kissing your face all over. it was the start of a new chapter for americas favorite couple.
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one year, 3 months in.
the panting that filled the room was just the right amount of overwhelming. most of it was coming from you, but a few were coming from matt. his leg was draped over yours, keeping a hold on you subtly. “we’re out of condoms.” he whispers, tracing shapes on your thigh. you nod as you look over at the bedside table, licking your lips. “you’ve been breaking in all the surfaces in the new place… should’ve gotten a twin pack.” you giggle, moving to rest your head on his chest. matt’s arm moves to wrap around your shoulder, finger moving to trace shapes on your back.
“i can’t help it. i’ve got the prettiest girl in the whole industry in my bed. our bed. and i would love to go another round if she’d let me.” his words make you chuckle, pouting your lip teasingly. “if only it worked like that. no, not without a condom. you know that.” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his slight stubble.
“oh come on. you’re tellin me you’re never gonna let me hit it raw? never ever?” he jokes, wincing when you slap his arm gently. his eyes widen at you, as if he’s actually expecting an answer. when he pinches your arm you realize that he is. “well of course i will just… not anytime soon. and i mean i’ve been on birth control since i was sixteen so really the chances are reduced but… the idea of having kids is kinda scary don’t y’think?” you mumble, furrowing your brows. matt shakes his head, stretching one hand out behind his head.
“no not with you. i think i could do anything with you. think you’d be great at all that mom stuff.” your gaze softens at his words, pressing another kiss to his lips gently. “one day.” you whisper, shifting your position to be fully on top of him. he nods in retaliation, kissing your forehead. “one day.” 
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one year, six months in. 
“to a miss y/n segel.” matt states, handing a fancy looking envelope to you straight from the mail. “thought you said you weren’t waiting on anything.” he continues, flipping through the junk mail that arrived. you nod, gently opening the envelope. “it’s cause i wasn’t. i don’t know what this is.” you whisper, gasping when you pull out the contents. “miss y/n… we here at Prada are big fans of your work and the message you try to spread to all of your loyal followers and anybody who will listen. with this letter we cordially invite you and a plus one to visit our headquarters in Milan after Paris Fashion Week concludes this upcoming Winter. please reply at your earliest convenience to the information attached at the bottom of the letter. we hope to see you soon.”
“we’re going to milan…” you whisper, eyes darting to meet matt’s. his eyes widen in shock, glancing down at the letter before pulling you into a tight hug from behind. “oh i dont know… i dont have one of those invites.” he jokes, you push his head away from you playfully, looking into the same blue eyes youd fallen in love with over the 18 months you had known him. “well in that case…” 
Matt’s life flashes before his eyes when you sink down to one knee, Prada envelope in hand. “Mr. Matt Sturniolo… will you… go to Milan with me?” you giggle, the faux-proposal turning cogs in matts head. “yes! yes yes yes a thousand times yes!” he laughs, taking the envelope as if it were a ring. he wonders if you would react the same way when he proposed to you in the future. he hopes you do. 
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one year, seven months in. 
shopping for a fashion trip was a lot harder than it seemed. matt was with you every step of the way, but shopping for him was a lot harder than shopping for you was. you groan when you leave the fourth department store of the trip, burying your head in your boyfriends chest “‘m tired… this is hard.” you whine, his hand flying to your hair as he chuckles. “yeah? y’struggling? i told you i think you look great in everything. especially that little white one.” you shake your head, the prominent pout on your face telling matt everything he needs to know. “fine… fine! i’ll take you home” you smile giddily when he makes his way towards the exit, only stopping when you see the most gorgeous dress youd ever seen in a store window.
your breath gets caught in your chest at the sight of it. you just have to have it. your legs carry you into the store, asking an associate to try it on in your size. the second that the dress is on your body, you know that its just the dress for you. it seems like it was made for you with the way the color patterns and style is everything you couldve asked for. 
“Matty?” you whisper, tucking one of your hands into one of dress's pockets. Matts heart damn near stops at the sight of you in it. “it looks nice… really nice. I really like it. you gonna get it?” he asks, pulling you close with a small spin. you giggle at the action and shrug, glancing down at the price tag. “I dunno… its twelve hundred dollars. kinda a lot for a dress dont y’think?” the hesitation in your voice is clear. the lack thereof in matts is clearer. “let me buy it for you. you deserve something nice every now and then, my love. Ill buy this for you and anything else you want. forever and always.” he smiles, sticking a pinky out to you to offer a pinky promise. you lock your fingers with his, nodding at his words in agreement. “forever and always.” 
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two years in. 
“Chris… oh my god he’s so little!” you smile, glancing down at the newborn in the hospital bassinet. everybody had been shocked when chris was the first Sturniolo to become a dad. it was a happy accident as the result of a one night stand. he had kept it a secret until his son had been born, the news coming from an incoming facetime call matt received. the two of you had rushed your way over when the call ended, putting you in the place you are now. “Chris hes perfect… oh my god its a baby!” you whisper yell, making sure to be careful due to the babies size. Matt chuckles as he pats his brother on the back, a sign of encouragement.
if matt was worried about becoming a father one day, he couldnt imagine how his little brother was feeling right now. the coos coming from the baby keep earning giggles and baby noises from you, making both matt and chris smile widely. “I want one” you pout, glancing over your shoulder to look at matt. his eyes are about to pop out of their sockets at your words. it had been briefly touched on in the length of your relationship before, but this time felt so much more serious than the other times. he nods, crossing his arms at your words.
“technically that ones fifty percent mine… take him.” he jokes, earning a slap on the chest from his brother. he winces, pouting his lips. “that ones mine… just give her her own.” chris replies, reaching to grab his now crying son from the crib. Matt eyes you up and down, gesturing you over. his arms wrap around you, chin resting on the top of your head. “ill get you one… one day. cant give you one while youre on the pill now can you” he jokes, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. you give into all of the touches, watching as chris interacts with the baby. your heart flutters a bit, imagining it being matt playing with your own children rather than chris being with his. one day. 
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two years, six months in.
“what if we just dont go tonight? we can stay here… have some mindblowing sex. i can even wear the set you like! cmon pleaseeeeee? I promise ill make it much more worth your while than dinner at the cheesecake factory.” you plead, putting your earrings on regardless. youre wearing the dress that matt had bought you for milan, arguably a bit fancy for the cheesecake factory, but matt insisted you wear it. he shakes his head as he sprays on his cologne, placing your hands in his. “y/n. we’re going. i’ll take you up on that offer of the sex later though. I wanna have a nice dinner with you.” you smile up at the boy, nodding your head.
“Okay… okay fine you win. youre like a disney prince oh my god.” you giggle, placing a hand on his cheek. he gives into the touch, pressing a small trail of kisses up your arm. when he finally reaches your face, he presses the most gentle kiss on your lips. you smile at the simple actions, gripping onto his hands. “Fineeeee. but i want multiple types of cheesecake.” you negotiate. Matt nods, patting his coat to make sure he has everything he needs. he lets out a sigh of relief when he feels that his keys, his phone, and the little velvet box are all in his pocket. 
when you finally arrive to the restaurant, youre shocked to see that its not the cheesecake factory the way you were expecting. your breath hitches when you see the interior. the dress youre wearing makes sense now. that little bastard was just trying to trick you. the host leads you to your table, where theres already a bottle of your favorite wine waiting. your eyes dart to matt when you hear him laughing, a smirk evident on his face. “What? werent expecting this were you?” you shake your head, a blush creeping onto your face. his face is confident, but his body language is different. he seems a lot more nervous than usual.
“what’s up with you? youve been so secretive lately… i feel like i havent seen you till today” you ask, mind instantly going to the worst case scenario. matt shakes his head, deciding that if he was going to take this leap, he had to do it now. your hands cover your mouth when matt drops to one knee, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat to pull out his grandmothers ring. 
though his breath hitches in his throat when he starts speaking, he pushes through with what he has to say. “i um… i met you when i was 21 years old. im 23 now. i dont think i could ever imagine going from ages 21 to 23 without you right by my side… truly. youre everything i couldve ever possibly asked for and more. i cant imagine a future without you. i cant imagine a life without you. theres no me without you. you take me to heaven every single time you smile… a-and i cant imagine starting a family without anybody else. and y/n… fuck. i dont think i was alive until the day i met you. ive said it a million times before and ill say it again. youre the love of my life. so… will you marry me?” theres tears in his eyes by the end of it, matching the tears in yours. you choke back a sob as you nod rapidly, whispering a long string of the word yes. matt chuckles nervously as he places the ring on your finger, pulling you into the longest kiss he’s ever given you. 
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2 years, 9 months in
“hey princess.” your dad mumbles as he walks past you in the meeting room, hand resting on your shoulder. defamation scandals were not for the weak of heart— especially for the people who hadn’t done anything wrong. you weren’t even sure where it had come from. some paparazzi who didn’t get the picture he wanted was claiming that you had broken his camera and that matt had broken his nose. your dad had a lawyer ready for cases like this, calling him up the instant that the lawsuit had come through. “daddy i didn’t do anything wrong!” you whisper, looking over at your dad. he nods in response, rubbing your shoulder. “i know you didn’t.” you sigh at the idea of being stuck in this room for another while, especially since matt was still nowhere to be seen. 
it feels like you manifested him when he walks into the room, dressed in a suit and tie with a briefcase in hand. he came prepared. matt sits down next to you, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek. “hi my love” he whispers, gripping onto your thigh. “sorry i took forever… the contractors for the house were late and then i got stopped by every red light in los angeles.” you sigh contently as you lay your head on his shoulder, a usual spot got you. his arm wraps around you instinctively, ready for the challenges to come. “we’re gonna get through this. and then we’re gonna go home… and you’re gonna see your brand new house. and then if you want we’ll never attend a red carpet again.” you nod at matt’s words, each part that slipped his lips making you feel better about the case at hand. the relationship was stronger than it ever had been before, and it was the perfect combination of online and offline. you just hoped the media wouldn’t find out about the new house the way they had found out about the apartment and used it as means of exploitation.
“what if we lose? what if we lose the case and we go bankrupt and we can’t have a big wedding and we can never start a family and w-we just don’t get the life we’ve been planning” you ramble, tears forming in your eyes. matt cuts you off with a kiss, shaking his head as he rests his forehead on yours. “any life with you is the life i’ve been planning. in sickness and in health. i’ll never leave you ever.” you giggle at his words, nodding slowly as you begin to relax. “you were like sent from the gods i swear.”
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3 years in.
“hey hey hey! hey julian get back here!” matt yells, chasing after chris’ young son while you walked into the door after your photo shoot. you giggle at the sight, setting your bag on the floor and swooping the toddler into your arms. you’re met with a squeal and a collection of laughs from the young boy, eyes moving to meet matt’s. “how do you get him to calm down like that?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. it’s clear he’s been at this for a while. you shrug as you play with the toddler carefully, pressing a kiss to your fiancés lips. “mmmm you smell like a nice perfume.” he whispers, his mouth lingering near yours. he places another small kiss to your lips , being cut off by the toddlers mindless babbles. “maccy cheese?” he asks, his big blue eyes meeting your own. you chuckle as you nod, walking to the kitchen with the toddler.
“can’t believe your uncle matty hasn’t fed you yet” you joke, setting the toddler on the counter. “it’s not my fault! he refuses to eat my food. i think it must be in your genes. you’re meant to be a mother. the mother to myyyyy kids. i’m just… mr steal your girl. and trust after that milan honeymoon you will be a mother to my kids.” matt hops up onto the counter next to his nephew, ruffling the munchkins hair. you roll your eyes at his words, placing the shaped pasta into the boiling water. “and why’d we pick milan again?” you whisper, resting your hands on either side of matt’s legs. “cause it’s the first trip we took together.” he whispers, hand settling on top of yours. it makes you blush, inching your face close to his as you joke. “oh i’ll take mr romantic over mr steal your girl any day” 
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3 years, 1 month in.
“are you actually smoking again?” you mumble, glancing up at matt from your spot on the bed. he shrugs, flicking his lighter on and holding it close to his joint. it had been his second of the day. you’d prefer weed over nicotine, but it was still an unhealthy habit to have. you wanted to slap it away from him, but you weren’t in the mood to fight today. it had already been long enough. the arguments seemed to be becoming more consistent. as the day of the wedding just kept inching closer, you assumed it was nothing but the jitters. 
“you want some?” he asks, holding the joint towards you. you shake your head, glancing over at your birth control on the counter. you hadn’t taken it in a few days, and you worried that if you took it with weed that your body would have some visceral reaction. “can you put it out? it’s making me nauseous.” you whisper, picking at your fingernails. matt shakes his head, instead standing up and walking out of the room. he had never done that before. you sigh as you get comfortable on the bed alone, turning off the lamp besides you. matt returns after an hour or two, arm wrapping around your waist as he whispers in your ear. “i’m sorry… i love you so much i’m sorry. forgive me please. that was the last of it. it’s gone forever now.” 
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3 years, 3 months in. 
you swore that you were going to burst into tears the first time you looked yourself in the mirror in full glam. nick was photographing the entire moment in his bridesmaids suit, eyes glistening with nothing but pure happiness. “work it! oh your dress is absolutely stunning. it’s so shiny and so… you” he chuckles, camera clicks constantly coming. your breath hitches in your throat when you realize that it’s finally here. everything you had been planning for in the past 9 months was finally here. you could’ve had a baby right now. you wipe the tears that had formed in your eyes quickly, ensuring that your makeup remained fine. you glance at nick and smile, biting your lip to hold back anymore cries or tears.
“in thirty short minutes you’re gonna be walking the aisle… and in less than an hour you’re gonna be married to the man of your dreams. i mean! do you know how many people really get to do that?” he whispers, pulling you into a tight hug. you giggle at his words, eyes glancing towards the clock. 30 minutes. 
a knock on the door grabs nicks attention, as well as your own, suddenly filling you with fear that something’s gone wrong. the cake or the flowers or the food. you’re not too sure. your worry is lessened when it’s chris who walks in the room, eying nick instantly. “can i talk to you real quick?” he whispers, filling you with fear again. this time your mind goes to the worst case scenario, worrying that something had gone terribly wrong. you take a seat in the ottoman in the room, watching as the boys head out of the room.
nick walks in after a few minutes, but he’s shaking this time. you swallow nervously, eyes batting rapidly. searching for an answer. “what’s going on? is it my dad?” you whisper, standing up instantly. you’re worried. nick hesitates for a moment but then shakes his head, lips pursing into a line. “i almost wish it was… um…” he swallows again, looking back at the door as if someone’s going to come in and save him. he knows it’s no luck. “matt’s leaving.” oh. my. god. you shake your head in disbelief, standing up so quickly that you get lightheaded. “what do you mean he’s leaving? wh-where’s he going?” nick shakes his head, hand running over his mouth. “he’s in the parking lot. go. go now. chris and nate are trying to hold him off.”
despite the struggle that your dress should provide when it comes to running, you manage to do it without falling or even tripping. when you arrive to the small, rocky parking lot of the wedding barn, matt’s right there where nick said he would be. nate’s holding him back while chris is saying unintelligible words to him. “matt!” you yell, tears forming in your eyes once more. “you told her?!?!” he yells, lurching towards chris. chris scoffs in disbelief, moving away from his brother. “you’re walking out on her and i was supposed to keep her in the dark? of course i fucking told her.” you swallow once more, barely fighting back tears at this point. nate takes a few steps away before coming back to take chris along with him. your eyes are desperate for answers. you’re desperate for answers. matt knows that. his hands push into his pockets as he takes a step towards you, avoiding your gaze the entire time.
“i can’t do this… it’s too soon and i’m not… i can’t… im so so sorry. i know that this is the worst thing somebody could ever possibly do but i just… i can’t live a lie. not one this big.” matt explains, though it only causes more questions to arise in your mind. a sob finally leaves your lips as you reach for his hand, which he quickly pulls away. tears form in his eyes too, and he’s quick to let one fall. you want him to so badly hold you and tell you that it’s a sick prank but it’s just not happening. you let out another string of sobs as he begins walking away, the gravel crunching beneath his steps. chris steps besides you, about to pull you in for a hug but you shake your head. you can’t do this right now. so instead you do the only thing you could ever do when you got in previous fights with matt. you yell.
“you’re a coward! you’re a pathetic excuse for a man and you should have never even asked me to marry you to begin with if you knew you wouldn’t be able to pull the fucking trigger! you’re pathetic. i can’t believe that you would ever fucking do this. you’re unfuckingbelieveable.” matt nods at all of your words, climbing into the car regardless. he knows all the words leaving your lips are true. he knows especially that you’re right while he’s driving off. chris and nate both know that they have options on what steps to take next. it takes a simple glance to each other to know what’s going to happen. nate heads inside to tell the guests of your wedding that it’s being called off. and chris is going to hold you while you cry. and you cry. and cry. and cry.
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two weeks out
the knock on your apartment door makes you groan. you don’t wanna get out of bed. not today. you were supposed to be flying out for your honeymoon in milan today. it’s crazy how fast things change. regardless, you climb up and pad your way over to the door. chris, julian, and nick stand in front of you, nick instantly pulling you in for a remorseful hug. you begin to cry in his arms again as chris walks inside, looking around the much emptier apartment. it was the first place you and matt had ever owned together. it was crazy that you had even moved back here. “his stuff is um… in the box over in that corner. it’s just the shit he left here when we moved to the house.” you mumble, sitting back on your unmade bed. it hadn’t been made in weeks. you haven’t cleaned anything other than dirty dishes in weeks. if you weren’t so afraid of mold you wouldn’t have cleaned those either. 
it feels like everything is an empty shell of what it all used to be. every corner you look at feels like matt’s right there. you can hardly look at your best friend without seeing him. there’s still a picture of the two of you sitting on one of your old shelves, left behind when you had moved to your house in the first place. it was a picture of you and matt dancing on the terrace, taken by nick. the people on that picture felt like phantoms now. you wonder how the girl in the picture—the past version of you— would feel if she knew what would happen. “take that too. and anything that may be yours…” you whisper, wiping tears away from your face. chris frowns. he hates seeing you this down. you were usually so bright. the best smile in every room. he knows he shouldn’t, but he asks anyway.
“is americas sweetheart going to her dads award ceremony tomorrow? or is she gonna keep sulking in her apartment forever?” it’s supposed to make you feel better. somehow it kinda does. “yeah i’ll be there.” you whisper, pursing your lips. chris nods as he rubs your back gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you know you have a great support system around you, but you can’t help but feel empty. especially since deep down you know that the only support you seem to have is going to slip from your hands fairly soon. 
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two months out
the constant flashing coming from the photographers of the Met Gala has never felt better. the theme of the year was especially fitting for you. beauties of the past vs horrors of the future. you had numerous brands reach out to you and offer to make your outfit, but you declined all of them. you decided to wear the dress you were supposed to get married in. as much as it hurt, it was meant to be the most beautiful of memories. you don’t even feel the need to hold back tears today. 
the last thing you could’ve ever expected was for matt and his brothers to be there. you had naturally lost touch with chris and nick over the months. you make your way up the Met stairs, constantly eying matt and his brothers.
once you moved forward at this event, you couldn’t move back. you’d have to wait until you got inside. 
when you find your seat, you think the event coordinators must have had it out for you. three months ago, matt wasn’t even meant to be here. and now he was seated at your table. right next to you. you’re the first to sit down, ordering a dirty shirley instantly. it doesn’t take long for matt and his brothers to join you. chris greets you normally. nick greets you with a smile. matt greets you with an apology, but not until his brothers leave the table.
“i’m so sorry for what i did. you were right. i was a coward. i guess i was… i don’t know. so scared to mess it up. mess us up. mess you up. i regret hurting you everyday.” he whispers, pressing kisses to your knuckles. you let it happen, biting your lip gently. you can’t help but blush at the actions, letting the warm feeling take over you. the love between you two was still undeniable. despite all of the things that had happened in the past few
months, it was all still there. it felt like you had placed the love in a casket and begun to bury it, but were still hesitating to fully put it to rest. “you look beautiful.” he whispers, this time straight into your ear. it hurts you to go back so easily, but it’s a lot easier to go home with him
tonight rather than never have him again. you wonder if it’s all a means to hurt you. if it’s all part of his scheme to
pull you back and then let you go again. part of you is telling you to make him stop. to apologize and tell him to leave. you can’t bring yourself to do it. you’re waltzing right back into his life. it’s a dance you’re willing to learn for him. 
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two months and one day out.
the media had heard the news faster than you could even tell your own close friends and family. somehow, TMZ knew that you had gone home with matt before chris did. your head rested on matts bare chest, eyes staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. it was a completely new house, one he owned with nick. he’d never had you in this room before this. right now, he had you in every sense. your dress laid on the floor near the foot of the bed. your lipstick was smudged all over his face. your underwear was god knows where. it was just like old times. except this time, there was a hole in your heart. you didn’t truly know or understand why. you were so convinced that if you ever got matt back that it’d be okay again. that you’d be you again. the same hole that was made in your heart when he first left you at the altar was still there. when matt speaks, you wonder if it’s the pillow talk or his genuine self. after that day, you can’t quite tell the difference. 
“you’re incredible… could never get sick of being here with you. as stupid as i may have been in the past. i love you so so much.” his words are empty. empty promises that hes trying to convince you are genuine.  you want to say it back so desperately the way you used to. but it’s never going to be the same again. your mind was flipping through everything you’ve ever been through together. you wonder how many lies he had told you throughout the relationship. somehow by the end of your thoughts, the goods outweighed the bad. you’re scared to let him in again. you push it all down to just being paranoia.
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three months out. 
the last three months had been an absolute whirlwind of emotions. the week following the Met Gala had been one of the worst of your life. to your surprise, matt had completely ghosted you. it’s like all of his words the day that you were in his bed were nothing more than a script he read from to con girls. he was a conman and he was selling a love scheme. and you had stupidly fallen for it.
for the first time in nearly four years, you had been at a red carpet event with your father again. what used to be a time to photograph americas favorite couple had gone back to being a time to photograph americas favorite single father and his daughter. you knew that matt was one call away if you ever needed him. you would always have a red carpet date if you called. you would always have a friend if you called. you would always have him there in a way. 
the hole in your heart remained there. at this point you didn’t think it would ever fade away. you didn’t think it could ever be filled again. whether you found somebody new or not, it would never be him. it would never be the same youtube boy that you had fallen in love with at your party. it was like a switch within him had been flipped. the matthew sturniolo that you once knew was gone. the boy who was once so loving. the boy who would always reassure you that you were good enough. the boy who would always express his wants for a family. the boy who was so willing to jump first if you had asked. he was gone. you weren’t too sure who this new matt even was. the one who was the new hollywood playboy. the one who would make rude comments to people in public. the one who was now known for one night stands. the media could paint things however they wanted, but this time it was accurate. this time, the matthew sturniolo you knew at one point was gone. you’d see it until the day you died. matthew sturniolo was the loss of your life. 
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a/n: apologies for my crimes against society. happy valentines day everybody!
dividers by @bernardsbendystraws and @13hoax
tags: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @princessesgarden @ikyoudreamofme @allylovescody @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @user1smvtysturniolo @chrislova @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @throatgoat4u @13hoax @camzeecorner @darksturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @jetaimevous @bernardsbendystraws @muwapsturniolo @riasturns @camzeecorner @darksturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @zebonos AND I REALLY HOPE IM NOT MISSING ANYBODY
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chrollohearttags · 1 day ago
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CHARACTER ANALYSIS: EREN JAEGER AKA EJ THE DON
so in honor of me finally reviving Reverb, I decided to do some character analyses and info cards, if you will. These were so much fun (and a lot of work) to make and I really hope y’all like them. I was heavily inspired by a wonderful, talented mutual of mine and her amazing character analysis she did for her series a while back! As always, y’all know reblogs and comments are appreciated!! (Fair warning, this is a long read but it’s been in the works since last year and I hope y’all enjoy)
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name: Eren Michael Jaeger | date of birth + sign: March 31st, 1998 (aries sun) | age: 26 | aliases/nickname: EJ, Eren, EJ The Don, The Underground God, Rennie | pronouns: he/him/his | sexuality: straight (but a bit bi-curious) | race/ethnicity: white, italian/turkish + german
song in the video: ChainSwang - BONES (slowed and reverb ver.)
biography and early life: Eren was born in Montclair, New Jersey to his mother Carla and father, Dr. Grisha Jaeger. The couple met while Carla was working as a bottle girl at a gentleman’s club called Starlets in New York, when she was nineteen years old. (age gap oops)
Grisha, who was working at Mount Sinai as part of his residency, was twenty seven at the time and married to (but separated from) socialite and heiress, Dina Fritz. The two were a classic case of opposites attracting and it didn’t take long for their bond to flourish from a one night fling to something far more. A year into their relationship, Carla learned that she was pregnant and Grisha, who had annulled his first marriage some months prior, proposed right away and the couple settled in the suburbia township to raise their newborn son. Eren was described as a ‘very enigmatic and unique child’. Growing up, he was said to have always had a natural inclination towards music. From playing on toy keyboards to babbling songs into his Spider-Man karaoke machine at just three years old, it seemed that early on, the young prodigy was shaping his destiny. Eren attended the Montclair Township Charter Elementary, alongside his childhood best friends, Mikasa Ackerman and Armin Artlert, who were among many of the children of affluent families. He was extremely intelligent and schoolwork was a breeze. The problem was that he could be less interested! Eren struggled to focus and with maintaining relationships, which worried his mom. She took him to therapists, sought counseling and even considered moving him to alternative school when he began getting into trouble.
She worried what would happen to him…but luckily, her fears were for nothing because soon, Eren would show her and the entire world his true purpose. When he was ten years old, Carla enrolled her son in lessons for piano and guitar. During this time, he began to really hone his musical talent, and needless to say, he was a prodigy. All but mastering everyone he picked up. This seemed to be the area that little EJ most thrived in. Even his friendships began to grown. Having left New Jersey before they went to middle school, Mikasa and Armin were the only two people he'd bonded with. But eventually, Eren found companionship in several people from all walks of life and other areas of town. He didn't care about how much money someone had or what they looked like, he just enjoyed like minded people. Finding himself hanging out, playing basketball, skating and of course, making music. However, his father was less than pleased with his academic performance and new group of comrades. As the son of a prestigious doctor, Eren knew that his father wouldn’t approve of his hobbies if his grades weren’t up to par but he never expected that the catalyst for his dreams would be their falling out..when Eren was 15 years old, he made the decision to leave home and emancipate himself from his parents after a horrendous fallout with his dad.
It came as a shock to his friends, who felt that his life was objectively better than their own. However, it was the principle and anyone who truly knew the situation..knew that it was a long time coming and much deserved. Years of being put down or not acknowledged for refusing to follow in his footsteps and the final straw came when his father's cowardice and lying caused him to lose someone very important to him. Something that Eren could not forgive (explaining this later in the story!) After receiving $300 from his older half brother, young EJ boarded a bus to Miami, not looking back once. And he was fully prepared to make a life for himself, one not attached to his dad's name..no matter the cost. After arriving in Florida, Eren would work odd jobs to provide for himself and found housing at a local boys home in the Northside area. Just two blocks from Ocean Shore High School, where he finished out the remainder of his junior and senior years. It was then that he met fellow classmates and future group members Connie Springer and Onyakopon 'Ony' Baptiste (he doesn't canonically have a last name that I am aware of so I gave him one and I will explain it in his own backstory). The three of them immediately bonded and only grew closer when they played on the varsity basketball team together and began working at a local shoe store in the Aventura Mall. This would be the first time that the world would get a glimpse into Eren's musical talents when his friends would record him singing Miguel's "Sure Thing' in the backroom of the store and posted it online.
career: After going viral, Eren began to take his craft even more serious. Going from penning rhymes in his notebook between periods to doing makeshift recording sessions in the chorus classroom, he would post covers and original songs to a YouTube channel as well his Sound Cloud. He would save a portion of his paychecks and do yard, mechanic and janitorial work for neighbors to procure studio time. He eventually saved up and purchased a MacBook, and began making instrumentals. It was during this time that he began working a temp job for a local underground club, where artists like Denzel Curry, Ice Billion Berg and Pouya got their starts. Hired to clean up after sets and during closing, Eren would listen in on the performances, watching, studying and observing the rappers' movements. Having never done an official performance, it was an area he had no experience in. But during an open mic night at the club, he got an opportunity and didn't miss! Debuting one of his now infamous tracks, First Degree, Eren once again shocked everyone with how talented and charismatic he was. It was almost as if rapping and singing came as naturally as speaking did. Now 18 years old, graduated from high school and riding the momentum of his first stage set, Eren continued to grind. Working by day and recording and writing by night. It was then that he began going by the name EJ the Don after Ony joked about his New Jersey and Italian origins, implying that he must have 'mafia ties' because he assimilated into life in this rough area so well. His image and brand slowly came together afterwards..embracing the dark, edgy aesthetic coupled with his buttery smooth voice and unique lyricism, Eren was in a league all on his own.
And it didn't take long for the rising star to catch the attention of some big names in the industry, including renowned Neo-Soul artist and five time Grammy winner Vivian James. Who was not only doing a show at the Miami Amphitheater for a music festival but scouting prospects for the talent agency giant, Ackerman Management Group. Known for catapulting the careers of some of the biggest names in music, modeling and acting. Still building his reputation, EJ got the chance of a lifetime when he not only received a job request but an invitation from Vivian herself, looking for a backup vocalist and pianist. Naturally, being a huge fan on top of a starving artist, Eren immediately accepted and the rest was history! Vivian was blown away that he was able to recite the songs verbatim and so perfectly on such a short notice..so much so, she gave Eren an offer he couldn't refuse: an audition with AMG on the condition that he would work as her protege regardless and it was a no brainer. Two days after his nineteenth birthday, EJ the Don officially signed with Ackerman Management Group, the family business of his old childhood friend, Mikasa. Who was going by the stage name Mika ASH. But it wasn't smooth sailing for the new rap sensation..although he was Vivian's protege, he captured the attention of other executives who was interested in more than his music. Unfortunately, it caused them to try and take advantage of him, both career wise and physically. Eren persevered and focused on what his goal truly was and that was sharing his gift with the world. Six months after being signed, he released his first EP, Living Dead Boy. He went on tour shortly after and released Living Dead Boy II: The Casket Chronicles a year later. Fast forward and Eren took the 'horrorcore' rap scene and the internet by storm, with his gritty wordplay and captivating visuals. Ten years later, he is hailed as the Underground God and widely credited for reshaping the genre as a whole.
musical muses: BONES (the character playlist can be found here), $uicideBoys, August Alsina, Jon Dretto
notable achievements: LivingDeadBoy I sold 50,000 units its first week and debuted number seven on the charts. But his debut single, First Degree was number two on the charts and widely viral on social media. LivingDeadBoy II: The Casket Chronicles sold five times with 250,000 units and at just 20 years old, EJ had his first sold out tour in North America. His debut album was very successful and received two Grammy nominations. (even though he doesn't give a shit about awards and accolades) EJ the Don has released over ten EP's and five mixtapes, as well as three studio albums, one being a visual series. He has gone on to produce, write with and direct for several other artists, including Prince Cee + Ony the God, his high school friends and fellow musicians. He has earned 2 VMA's and appeared in a BET Hip Hop Awards cypher. He has headlined two North American tours seperately and three international ones alongside his groupmates. EJ has made many accomplishments in his ten year rap reign and is far from done.
personality traits, flaws, etc: Eren can be described as very emotional by some yet stoic in the same breath. He can be temperamental, not thinking hostile actions through sometimes. He acts of his own accord without considering other peoples’ feelings. He’s very blunt, and won’t hesitate to speak his mind. He CANNOT hide his true feelings for shit (if his mouth doesn’t say it, his face surely will.) There are times when he’ll go days without answering his phone or making contact with anyone because he loves being in his own little world. Friendships, partners..it honestly doesn’t make a difference if you’re around or not. Especially when he’s locked in, working on important projects. He shuts down when he doesn’t want to deal with something and you’ll have better luck catching a pig flying than him apologizing or doing what he’s told! In the same vein, Eren can be very emotional..it’s almost like a dam breaking. When he finally cracks, it’s hard to control the flood with him. He gets really intense, whether he’s crying, laughing or angry. He’s very passionate when he cares about something and he’ll let it be known. Behind that rough exterior is a gentle, sweetheart of a man that just throws his all into whatever or whoever he loves.
relationship status: Eren is currently seeing the influencer and rising star of pole dancing, (Y/N) (L/N). The pair has been in a low key relationship for some months now, taking it slow and really getting to know one another. Although they started with a hot and steamy romance, sprouting from years of loneliness and celibacy from them both, they’ve really grown to care deeply for one another. He puts a lot of effort into making sure he contacts her regularly bc it is not easy to keep his attention and always gifts her the most expensive and thoughtful things. He never seen himself as the lovey dovey type, but anyone that knows EJ..will tell you that he’s fallen head over heels for miss (L/N)!
physical descriptors: EJ is 6’3, just barely 195 pounds with a slender but toned frame. He’s been working out quite a bit since his last project and tour so he’s a little more jacked than before. He has several tattoos including full sleeves with various pieces he’s been getting since he was 16 years old. A few of his most notorious being the serpent and chain going around his hand all the way to his shoulder, the pink rose with the name ‘Ma’Kiya’ tattooed in one of the petals on his back (🌚) and his mom’s name. He has dark green eyes, brownish black hair that he wears in a half up-half down style most of the time. Occasionally though, he’ll wear it down and grow out facial hair. He’s always wearing some sort of jewelry..his infamous ‘The Don’ chain, as well as his bottom silver grills. His fashion sense varies on his mood.
hobbies + interests: when he’s not in the booth, Eren is somewhere tinkering with cars! He particularly loves older model vehicles and will spend days working to fix them. He loves going to the racetrack, sitting in the skybox like a little kid and watching drag cars and motorcycles go down the strip. He also loves to paint and draw, even designing a majority of his tattoos. (fun fact: he gifted (Y/N) a portrait of one of his favorite photos of her on her birthday.) and of course, he’s a huge gamer. His fans look forward to seeing him on Twitch, being stressed out by whatever franchise he’s delving to at the moment. Especially when he’s with his friends or (Y/N).
@violetxxvenom @shamelesshoefairy @shawtuzi
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armpirate · 18 hours ago
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The Vows Between Us (Part 2) || Jungkook
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Part 1
Pairing: Jungkook x f reader || Arranged marriage
Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, teasing (Minors DNI. Refrain from reading if you aren't over 18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content).
Aprox. time of reading: 40/50 minutes
Summary: You thought it was over. The divorce papers had been signed, the marriage you never wanted finally behind you. You were free. Or so you believed. Months passed, and you built a life without him, a life where his name was just a whisper in your past. You even convinced yourself that the fire between you had burned out. Until he showed up at your door, with that same devastating smirk, with eyes that still held every war you had fought against each other. And with words that shattered the fragile world you had created "I never sent the papers." Now, you’re back in his world, back where it all began. But this time, it’s different. This time, it’s a battle of wills, of emotions too tangled to ignore. Because the man who once pushed you away is now pulling you closer. And the most terrifying part? You don’t know if you want to resist.
MASTERLIST
Two months had passed since that afternoon when Jungkook left the divorce papers on the counter, months since you signed them and stormed out of his house. You thought it was over. Final. You got the few things you had brought in your suitcase the first day you showed up there. You made sure to forget everything that was related to him.
He had made his choice, and you made yours -you walked away and never looked back.
That was the original plan, after all. You agreed on that arranged marriage, you both played the perfect couple and then you got divorced when he got the position he married you for. Several couples ended things after they realized they tied the knot way too early, so your case wouldn't stand out.
Life after him was quiet.
You slipped into a routine, convincing yourself this was freedom. The first three weeks, you tried to focus on yourself, you tried to find a job, you found someone new -a man with kind eyes, soft words, and no complications. He wasn't Jungkook, but that was the point. There was no fire, no chaos, no heartbreak lurking around the corner. You were finally getting that peace you had never been able to have.
You almost believed it was enough. Until you received his message:
"Come back. We have unfinished business"
For a moment, you sat frozen, staring at the screen, your pulse quickening. The message was too simple, too loaded with meaning. You'd spent months trying to rebuild your life, you spent months trying to forget about him and move on. Whatever unfinished business Jungkook thought you had was none of your concern.
You deleted the message.
It didn't matter. You weren't going back. You didn't know about him, but you were sure every business related to him was pretty much finished.
At least, that was your idea -until the doorbell rang.
You hesitated, your heart in your throat as you approached the door. You didn't know why, but the vibe you felt that day, the shiverings running up your spine, warned you not to open the door and just go on with what you were doing.
When you opened it, your world tilted and you knew you should've listened to your instinct.
Jungkook stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes sharp and unrelenting, like he hadn't missed a single moment of your absence. His black suit clung to his frame, his expression unreadable, though there was an unmistakable heat in his gaze.
"Miss me?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with something darker, something possessive.
Your breath caught, but you quickly recovered. "What the hell are you doing here?"
His eyes flicked to your bare ring finger, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I think you know."
"No, I don't," you snapped, crossing your arms. "You signed the divorce papers, I signed the divorce papers. It's done. We're done."
Jungkook let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "No, Y/n. We're not."
Your heart stopped for a split second. "What are you talking about?"
He stepped closer, the air between you charged with tension. "I never sent the papers. I signed them, sure. But they never left my desk."
It hit you like a punch to the stomach. The past few months -the distance, the quiet life you tried to build- had all been based on a lie. You didn't know why you were so surprised, everything with Jungkook was always based on a lie.
"You've got to be kidding me," you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief. "Why?"
Jungkook's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. "Because I wasn't ready to let you go."
Anger bubbled up inside you, masking the ache in your chest. "You don't get to decide that for me."
"I think I just did," he said, his voice low and steady, the weight of his words suffocating. "And I'm not leaving until you understand that this..." he gestured between you. "...is far from over."
"You're insane," you said, stepping back to put distance between you. "I've moved on, Jungkook. I have a new life. Someone else..."
"Someone who isn't me," he cut in, his tone dangerously soft. "And we both know how that story ends."
"I don't care about what the fuck you do, but I'm not going back to you" you challenged him. "Don't want to send those papers? Fine, I'll get you to court if that's what you want".
"You can do that" he nodded "But I'm afraid it won't turn out well for you" his smirk widened at your confused expression. "You know... You left our home, you didn't even come to pick up your things because you sent someone else instead" his eyes narrowed "Abandonment isn't well seen during divorce trials".
You didn't want to lose your temper, but your voice broke as you raised it to confront him "What fucking abandonment are you talking about? You have the divorce papers, you signed them first".
"What divorce papers?" he lifted his eyebrow. "It's a bit difficult to prove something when you don't have physical proofs".
Your blood was boiling, your body was trembling with rage and frustration. How could he dare coming back to your life that way? After everything he did to you? Why was he making things so difficult?
You clenched your fists, refusing to give in to the whirlwind of emotions he was stirring inside you. "You don't control my life anymore."
"No," Jungkook said, closing the space between you until you could feel the warmth radiating from him. "But you're still my wife, so get that pretty ass back home if you don't want to make things worse for you".
You stood there, frozen, as Jungkook's words settled in the air between you. The anger, confusion, and pain bubbled up inside you, but there was something else too -a flicker of uncertainty.
You'd spent months convincing yourself it was over. That you were free. But standing here, facing him again -looking into those eyes that knew you better than anyone else- it felt like you were right back where you started.
"I'm not going back," you said, but the words came out more fragile than you meant them to.
"Then don't," he replied, his voice soft but resolute. "But be ready for the consequences. We're still married, so I expect you to go back to our house."
You met his gaze, determined not to show him how much his presence unsettled you. You weren't going to let him have the upper hand again.
"Our house, my ass..." you muttered, turning to walk away.
But then, his voice stopped you. "I left the keys in your mailbox, Y/n."
You froze mid-step, the weight of his words sinking in. He wasn't just expecting you to return. He was staking a claim on your life once more, as if he'd never let you go in the first place.
Swallowing your pride, you turned back to face him. "If I ever thought of coming back, don't think for a second that I'm going to make this easy for you. The way I acted before would be a beautiful road in comparison. I'll make your life hell"
A faint smile tugged at Jungkook's lips. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
The way he turned with his ego on its full rise, as if he knew you'd do what he wanted, had you losing yourself when you closed the door. You wanted to burn that apartment down, you wanted to throw every heavy object at his head, you even wanted to bang your head against the wall and make all the thoughts stop. You understood the fury, but why was one side of you glad he showed up? Why the hell were you hopeful and relieved?
You were angry at Jungkook, but even more frustrated at yourself, because there wasn't a logical explanation for your reaction.
What the hell was going on with you?
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The drive back to your old house was a blur, your thoughts spinning as you tried to make sense of everything. You had made the decision to return, but only because you knew you couldn't escape the pull he had on you -not yet. Not completely.
When you arrived, you hesitated before unlocking the door. The keys were still in your hand, their cold weight a reminder of everything that had happened between you two.
As you stepped inside, the first thing you noticed was the silence. The living room was too quiet, the space feeling too familiar, too... him.
And then you saw him.
Jungkook sat casually on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, a smug smile on his face. The thing that caught your attention, though, was the ring resting on the coffee table in front of him -your wedding ring. The same one you made sure to leave behind before slamming the door at the entrance and starting a new life -that you thought would last longer than just two months.
He watched you closely, eyes gleaming with an unreadable expression as he spoke, his voice low. "Welcome home, Y/n."
You didn't say anything at first, your gaze flicking from the ring to his face. The frustration and betrayal you felt were still fresh, but it wasn't enough to drown out the undeniable truth -Jungkook knew how to get under your skin like no one else.
You walked past him without a word, picking up the ring and slipping it onto your finger, the cold metal a reminder of everything you had once shared.
"Don't think this means anything," you said, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you. "I'm here, but I'm not yours. And I'm coming back with my conditions".
He smirked while arching his eyebrows, inviting you to share with him the ideas you came up with the twenty four hours you were apart.
"I'll keep my room, we aren't sharing a bed" you said first. "I want my space. I have enough with having to stay here until you get bored, I don't want to deal with your snores on top of it all".
His chuckle echoed in the four wide walls. He could give you back your room, it wasn't like he made any changes. Actually, he didn't dare to move a single thing whenever he got in there to sit at the edge and look around, since it was the only way to feel close to you those two months you were apart.
"We're married, but I'm living my life".
"That means fucking that new guy?" he arched his eyebrow, not amused by your second condition.
"That means having my own life, do and undo whatever the hell I want, leave this place whenever I please with no explanations. You want me here? Fine. But it'll be as if you had a piece of decoration".
"I want you here at eleven every night"
You froze at his petition, sure you didn't hear him well or understand him properly. Did he just say...?
"Go and fuck whoever you please, but at night I want you in your bed, under my roof" he calmly added.
He couldn't control who you were going to see, and it wasn't like it was going to be something to last forever -he was convinced you'd give up on any other men you had tried to meet after him the second you spent more time together again. It'd be as if you had never left.
He wanted to be relieved and calm, knowing that you'd be safe in his house. That was all he needed.
"And what if I don't want to?"
"I'm accepting your conditions, you should also accept mine" he cut you off, his glare rough as he drilled into your eyes.
"Fine..." you sighed. "The time I'm here, though, I don't want you to speak to me unless it's necessary. And I mean life or death situation" you tried to make yourself clear by adding that new condition.
"Now I can't speak to you?"
"You had a chance to and you didn't take it, now I don't want to hear anything, absolutely nothing, at all, from you".
Said that, you picked up your suitcase, walking upstairs to close yourself inside your old room, surprised at how the place even smelled the exact same way it did the day you left.
Jungkook's smile didn't fade as he leaned back on the couch, looking up at the short way you made to the first floor. "We'll see about that."
The first few days back in the house were cold and quiet -just how you wanted it. You stuck to your word, speaking to Jungkook only when absolutely necessary. If he asked a question, you answered with as few words as possible. If you crossed paths in the hall, you barely spared him a glance.
It worked... for a while.
But Jungkook wasn't the type to tolerate being ignored.
One evening, you were in the kitchen preparing dinner when you felt his presence behind you. He leaned against the counter, silently watching you as you chopped vegetables.
You ignored him, hoping he would leave.
He didn't.
The silence stretched between you like a taut wire, heavy and suffocating. Finally, Jungkook spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "Are you really planning on keeping this up forever?"
You didn't look at him. "We agreed to only necessary conversations."
"And this feels very necessary to me," he said, stepping closer. "Unless you're enjoying playing house in silence".
Your jaw tightened. "I'm not playing anything, Jungkook. I'm trying to survive living under the same roof as you".
His lips curved into a slow, maddening smirk. "Funny, because from where I'm standing, it seems like you're running away".
That did it. You dropped the knife onto the cutting board with a sharp thud and turned to face him. "Running away? From what exactly?"
"From me" he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving yours. "From whatever it is you're so afraid to admit."
"You're delusional," you said, crossing your arms. "Not everything revolves around you, Jungkook."
He took another step forward, and suddenly the space between you felt far too small. "No, but you're making it pretty obvious that something about me still gets to you" his gaze dropped briefly to your lips before locking onto your eyes again. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be working so hard to avoid me".
Your heart pounded in your chest, but you refused to back down. "I'm not avoiding you. I'm just choosing not to engage with someone who clearly can't respect boundaries".
Jungkook chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. "Boundaries, huh?" his voice dropped an octave, dangerously low. "Tell me, Y/n... how long do you think you can keep pretending you don't feel anything when I'm this close?"
He was right in front of you now, his breath warm against your skin. Every instinct in your body screamed at you to push him away, to tell him he was wrong.
But you didn't move.
For a second, neither did he.
Then his hand brushed against your wrist, his fingers curling gently around it -not forcefully, but enough to send a jolt through your system. His eyes searched yours, waiting for you to tell him to stop.
But you couldn't.
The tension snapped, and before you knew it, his lips crashed into yours.
It wasn't soft or tentative -it was raw and desperate, a collision of anger and need that left you breathless. His hand slid up your back, pulling you closer as the world around you faded away.
For a moment, you let yourself get lost in it -the heat, the frustration, the undeniable pull that had always existed between you.
But reality hit just as hard, and you pulled back, breathless and shaken.
"See?" Jungkook whispered, his forehead resting against yours. "You can lie to yourself all you want. But you can't lie to me".
"No, that's definitely more your thing" you clapped back, making sure your back was glued to the counter, as if that would keep from making another mistake.
"You still think I lied to you?" his eyebrows momentarily arched, before his hand landed over the counter, bending his body slightly.
"I don't think so, I know it" you tilted your head. "Which makes me wonder what the fuck do you exactly want from me?"
"Do I have to spell it out for you?" he aimed to take a step closer to you, his hand slipping from the counter as he approached you.
Before he could reduce the distance to a palm, you quickly picked up the knife over the cutting board to threaten him with it, Jungkook instantly raising his hands in a mockery surrender pose.
"You treated me like a fool once. I'm not allowing you to do it a second time" you assure him, your eyes piercing through his.
You dropped the knife back to the counter, thinking it was going to be a better idea to just leave and have dinner somewhere else than stay in that house and stand his constant comments and silent looks.
The moment you left Jungkook standing in the kitchen, lips swollen from the kiss you still felt burning on your skin, you knew you couldn't stay in that house any longer, at least not when you felt so weak.
One wrong word and move, and you'd be back to a place you'd regret.
You grabbed your coat and keys, ignoring the pounding in your chest, and headed straight to Steve's apartment.
He answered the door within seconds, his brows lifting in surprise when he saw you standing there. "Y/n? What's wrong?"
You stepped inside, brushing past him. "I shouldn't have gone back to him. Moving into that house was a mistake."
Steve shut the door behind you, his expression hardening. "Did he do something?"
"No," you said quickly, though your voice wavered. "Not exactly. But... he won't let me go. He keeps trying to pull me back in, and it's suffocating."
You tried to ignore the fact that you didn't tell your boyfriend about the kiss. You could have, but for some reason you chose to hide that detail.
Steve gave you a soft look, his hand aiming for your arm to brush his fingers against the thick fabric of your coat. "Let's get you something warm first".
You played with the white cup in your hands, the steam from your hot tea almost reaching your nose.
"It's clear what he's doing" he thought out loud, his head shaking while still deep in thought. "He knows you're too strong to fall for his games, so he's trying to trap you emotionally. If you really want to get him out of your life, you need to hit him where it hurts".
You frowned. "What do you mean?"
He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Jungkook's entire identity is wrapped up in that company. It's what made your marriage necessary in the first place, right? He needed you to solidify his position as head of the company. So... why not disrupt that? Use the one thing that connects you both: his business".
The idea left you breathless for a second, the audacity of it hanging in the air. It was dangerous, calculated, and exactly the kind of move Jungkook wouldn't expect.
"You want me to ruin his position?" you asked cautiously.
"Not exactly ruin it," Steve said with a sly smile. "But challenge it. You have enough influence and knowledge to shake things up. Attend board meetings, make connections with the investors, prove that you are the real power in this relationship, not him".
Your mind raced at the possibilities. Jungkook had always thrived on control -especially in the business world. If you stepped into that world and took control of your own narrative, you wouldn't just be playing his game. You'd be rewriting the rules.
"I don't know..." you murmured, but deep down, a part of you was intrigued.
You wanted to fight back, but you weren't sure how the consequences of your actions could affect Jungkook in the future.
Hold on a second... Why were you even feeling sorry for him?
"Think about it," Steve said, leaning back with a confident grin. "If Jungkook wants to play power games, give him a fight he won't see coming".
You returned late that night, slipping back into the house like a shadow. Jungkook wasn't in the kitchen or the living room, but you felt his presence everywhere -watching, waiting.
As you climbed the stairs, your eyes drifted to the ring still sitting on the coffee table, gleaming under the soft light.
You ignored it and headed to your room, the resolve hardening in your chest.
This was war now.
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Jungkook stood at the head of the conference table, his voice calm and commanding as he laid out his latest strategy to the board. His navy suit and confident stance made it clear who was in control. Every investor in the room hung on his every word.
Until the doors to the conference room swung open, interrupting him.
All eyes turned toward you as your heels clicked against the marble floor. Jungkook's smirk grew the moment he saw you. You were as beautiful as he kept thinking throughout the conference, that aura around you worked like a magnet. His attention had to be on you whenever you were in the same room -and even if you weren't. His eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity, assuming you were here for a surprise visit.
But then you didn't stop by the door.
Instead, you walked to the far side of the long table, your expression composed and businesslike, not a single glance aimed at him. The room fell into a stunned silence as you looked down on the man who was sitting at Jungkook's right, your intimidating gaze immediately making him look to his left so everyone would move one seat away so his seat would be free for you.
Without a word, you took a seat, right next to Jungkook.
The tension in the room was palpable.
Jungkook's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing as he watched you lean back in your chair, your fingers calmly tapping on the table. "Y/n," he said slowly, his tone low and questioning. "What are you doing here?"
You offered him a polite, professional smile, ignoring the flicker of warning in his eyes. "I'm here for the meeting, of course". You turned to the others, your voice clear and confident. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. You all must know, but I'm Y/n, and as of this morning, I'll be joining the executive board as the company's new Strategic Advisor".
Jungkook's jaw clenched. You could see the muscles in his neck tighten, though his expression remained otherwise unreadable. He leaned slightly toward you, his voice barely made it to your ears. "You've been busy, haven't you?"
You didn't blink. "I thought it was time I got involved. You keep insisting I'm your wife and such. You wanted me back at our house, so I think it's just fair I also take part in our business. You've always said we're a team, haven't you? You should be happy".
He straightened, eyes fixed on you, his mind running like crazy with all the thoughts in his head. "A team," he repeated, his voice dangerously calm. "Of course".
The meeting resumed, but you could feel Jungkook's eyes on you the entire time. Every word spoken, every decision discussed -it was all charged with tension. You chimed in occasionally, your remarks sharp and insightful, earning nods of approval from several board members, and casually opposing your husband's ideas or opinions.
By the end of the meeting, it was clear to everyone that you weren't just a pretty face in a designer dress. You belonged in that room, and you weren't going anywhere.
As the meeting wrapped up, the board members began to file out, offering you polite nods as they passed. Jungkook stayed seated, watching you with a carefully neutral expression. When the door finally closed behind the last executive, the silence between you became deafening.
"You've made your point," he said, his voice low and laced with something between admiration and irritation. "You had fun. Now go back home. This isn't a game".
You stood, smoothing your dress and giving him one last look. "Who said I'm playing a game, Jungkook? I'm just here to do what's best for the company".
With that, you turned and walked toward the door, leaving him sitting there -his eyes dark, his mind already calculating his next move.
That night, you barely made it through the front door before Jungkook's voice cut through the silence.
You swore things were being way too peaceful for it to be real. You left the company later in the evening, you spent time with your boyfriend, and then you went back home before eleven like Jungkook had conditioned you.
You didn't expect him to still be awake.
"You've got some nerve, Y/n," he said, leaning against the doorway of the living room. His tie was loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a sliver of his collarbone. His dark eyes pinned you in place, burning with a mix of anger and something else far more dangerous.
You calmly slipped off your heels, pretending not to notice the tension radiating from him. "I don't know what you're talking about".
He pushed off the doorframe, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. "Really? Barging into my meeting, announcing your shiny new position in front of the entire board without telling me first? That wasn't just a power move, that was a declaration of war".
You crossed your arms, holding his gaze without flinching. "I'm only doing what's best for the company. Or are you threatened by me, Jungkook?"
His eyes darkened at the challenge, his jaw tightening. He stopped just inches away from you, his presence overwhelming. "Threatened?" he repeated, his voice dangerously soft. "No, love. I'm not threatened by you. But you should be careful".
You raised an eyebrow. "Is that a warning?"
His lips curled into a smirk, but there was no warmth in it "Call it... advice". He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. "Because if you want to play games with me, you'd better be ready for the consequences."
"Is that supposed to scare me?" you shot back, refusing to back down despite how close he was.
He let out a low, humorless chuckle. "No, Y/n. I know you aren't scared of shit like that".
The air between you crackled with tension. For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in a dangerous standoff. Then, without warning, Jungkook's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping gently -but firmly- around your wrist.
"You think you can walk into my world and play by your own rules?" he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. "Let me remind you who taught you how to play this game in the first place".
Before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours, all restraint vanishing in an instant. The kiss was fierce, consuming, a clash of frustration and desire that had been building for far too long. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you against him as if daring you to push him away.
But you didn't.
Instead, you kissed him back just as fiercely, pouring every ounce of your anger and defiance into it. It was a battle neither of you wanted to lose, a fight that left you breathless and trembling.
You found yourself pulling him closer, your hands wrapped around his neck when he pushed you against the door to corner you.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes burned with that familiar intensity -the one that always left you on edge.
"Tell me again," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "that you're not playing games with me."
You looked at him through hooded eyes, before you got back some strength to speak "I'm not. I'm just giving you the consequences of your actions".
After pushing him, you managed to walk away. You were paying him back with his own decisions, you were doing exactly what he told you to do -you even started wearing the ring again- only to make him regret everything he did to you.
Because, deep down, you weren't sure anymore.
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But, as always, Jungkook changed the rules.
It started at the office. He didn't oppose your presence after a few days. Not only did he accept you working at the company, but he made it clear to everyone else that you belonged there.
"Y/n's perspective is valuable," he said during one of the meetings, his tone calm and confident, as though the two of you hadn't nearly torn each other apart the night before. "We'll benefit from her insight".
You blinked in surprise, not missing the way the other executives exchanged glances. Jungkook never shared control with anyone. Yet there he was, backing you up without hesitation, his demeanor warm and approachable.
You waited for him to pull some kind of stunt. To undermine you or push you into a corner. But it never came.
Instead, he stayed close -always helpful, always charming. He lingered by your office with coffee in hand, offering advice or casually checking on your progress. He praised your work during meetings, smiled at you in that disarmingly genuine way that made your stomach twist.
And he kept his distance -physically, at least. No more sudden touches. No more whispered words meant to unravel you.
But his eyes... his eyes never stopped watching you, never stopped waiting.
Every time you turned a corner, he was there. Every time you doubted your next move, he was one step ahead, guiding you with perfect timing. He was patient. Calculated.
He was making it impossible to hate him.
One late afternoon, after another meeting where Jungkook had spoken up in your favor, you lingered in the conference room, trying to process it all. The sun dipped low, casting golden light through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Something on your mind?"
You turned to find Jungkook standing in the doorway, his jacket slung over one shoulder, his sleeves rolled up. His voice was soft, almost casual, but there was a gleam in his eyes that betrayed his intent.
"Just thinking," you said, keeping your tone neutral.
"About how well we work together?" he asked, stepping inside and leaning against the table. "Admit it, Y/n. We make a hell of a team".
You narrowed your eyes. "You're up to something".
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not this time. I meant what I said. I'm here to help you. I told you, we're partners now, we're a team. No games".
You wanted to believe him. You really did. But trusting Jungkook was like stepping into quicksand -you never knew how far you'd sink before it was too late.
Still... he was making it harder and harder to resist.
"I'll treat you to dinner" he moved his head, motioning you to walk with him.
But you froze. You already had plans, you were already meeting up with Steve to have dinner. But something in you couldn't hide the fact that you wanted to spend time with Jungkook -even if you saw each other all day now, it was never enough.
You could've said no and let Steve take you to the same restaurant you went to on Fridays, but you didn't.
"Uh, let me send an email real quick" you lied.
You took out your phone to let Steve know you wouldn't be able to meet him that night. It was the fourth time that week you stood him up. While the other times weren't related to your husband but work, they made you feel more regretful than that evening.
Twenty minutes later, you found yourself seated at a small, intimate table in an intimately lit restaurant tucked away from the city's busy streets. The place had an understated elegance -brick walls, warm lighting, the scent of freshly baked bread drifting through the air.
It wasn't flashy or extravagant. It felt... cozy. Unexpectedly personal.
Jungkook leaned back in his chair, watching you as the waiter poured wine into your glass. "Relax, Y/n. This isn't a business meeting".
You raised an eyebrow, swirling the wine in your glass. "Isn't it?"
"Not tonight." He rested his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving yours. "I just want to enjoy your company. No business. No games".
You sipped your wine, unsure whether to believe him. The man sitting across from you was far too good at blurring lines, at slipping through cracks in your armor when you least expected it.
"So," Jungkook said after a beat of silence. "Tell me. How's your first week at the company been?"
"It's been... fine," you replied cautiously.
"Just fine?" His lips curved into a playful smirk. "Come on. Be honest".
You leaned back, crossing your arms. "Honestly? I expected you to be more of a pain in the ass".
His laughter was low and rich, drawing the attention of a few nearby diners. "I'm full of surprises".
"That much is true," you muttered, setting your glass down. "But I still don't trust you".
"Good," Jungkook said, his tone soft but serious. "You shouldn't".
That threw you off. For a second, his expression shifted -his eyes darkened, his smirk fading into something far more sincere.
"But maybe," he added, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine, "you'll give me the chance to change that".
You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. Jungkook had always been a master at keeping you on edge, but tonight was different. Tonight, his words felt less like a game and more like... something real.
The waiter returned with your meals, breaking the tension. The conversation turned lighter, Jungkook recounting an embarrassing story from one of his early days at the company. His laugh was contagious, his charm impossible to ignore.
For the first time in a long while, you found yourself lowering your guard -just a little.
But as the evening went on, you couldn't shake the feeling that Jungkook was always one step ahead.
You were halfway through your meal when Jungkook leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn't quite read.
"So... Steve," he said, his voice deceptively casual. "Tell me about him."
Your fork froze mid-air. His tone was light, but the question hit you with the force of a loaded gun. You set your fork down carefully, your gaze narrowing.
"What about him?"
Jungkook tilted his head, lips curling into a slow, almost amused smile. "You've been seeing him for... what? A few months?"
"Why does that matter?" you asked, sipping your wine, trying to appear unaffected.
He shrugged. "Just curious. Seems like a nice guy. The kind of guy who probably wears beige sweaters and helps old ladies cross the street". His smile turned sharper "Safe".
Your jaw tightened. "Yes, he is. Which is more than I can say for most people" you snapped back your attack clear.
"Wow, calm down. It wasn't meant as an attack" Jungkook chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. "Although... safe is boring. You're not boring".
"Not everything has to be chaos and fire, Jungkook," you shot back, your voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
He swirled the wine in his glass, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. "No. But it's more fun, isn't it?"
You could feel the tension rising again, the air between you thick with unspoken words. He wasn't just curious -he was poking at something, testing you, trying to find a crack in the wall you'd built.
"I'm happy with Steve," you said, folding your napkin and placing it on the table. "And he's good for me. Unlike certain people who thrive on turning everything into a power game".
His smile faded for just a second, his eyes flashing with something darker. "You think I'm playing a game with you?"
"Aren't you always?"
Jungkook leaned forward again, his voice low, dangerous, and intimate. "If I were playing, Y/n, you'd know it. But I'm not. Not this time".
You stared at him, your heartbeat picking up pace. His words were a challenge -a direct, undeniable dare to see through his layers and figure out what he really wanted.
The waiter returned, breaking the moment as he offered dessert, but you waved him off. You needed air. You needed to get out before Jungkook could sink any deeper into your thoughts.
The cool evening air hit your skin as you stepped outside the restaurant, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You needed space -time to clear your head after that loaded conversation.
You had barely taken a few steps down the sidewalk when you heard the door swing open behind you, followed by the sound of his footsteps.
"Y/n," Jungkook called, his voice calm but commanding.
You didn't stop.
"I'm going home," you said without turning around. "Alone".
Because that was the only way you'd assure yourself you'd make your way to your room without letting Jungkook get in your head.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said, easily catching up to you. "I'll drive you".
You stopped abruptly, spinning on your heel to face him. "I don't want your company".
Jungkook smirked, his hands sliding into his pockets as he stepped closer, his eyes gleaming under the streetlights. "I'm not asking for your permission".
You crossed your arms, glaring at him. "You can't control everything".
His eyes darkened, his playful demeanor shifting into something far more serious. "I'm not trying to control you" he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "But I'm not letting you walk away from me like that. Not tonight".
Your breath caught in your throat as he stood so close you could feel his warmth despite the chill in the air. His presence was overwhelming -intoxicating in a way that made you hate how easily he could unravel you.
"I really can't stand you" you muttered, turning to walk again. But before you could take another step, his hand gently wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in place.
"Let's go home together" he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. "Please."
The word caught you off guard. Jungkook rarely asked for anything. He demanded. But the way he said it now, with that rare hint of vulnerability, left you momentarily speechless.
Against your better judgment, you nodded, letting out a resigned sigh. "Fine".
The car ride was silent, the tension thick as Jungkook drove with one hand on the wheel, his other resting on his knee. You kept your gaze fixed on the passing city lights, refusing to acknowledge the way his presence filled the small space.
But when you reached the house, it was clear the night was far from over.
The car rolled to a stop in front of the house, the engine's low hum fading into silence. You hesitated for a moment before stepping out, your heels clicking softly against the pavement. Jungkook followed closely behind, his footsteps deliberate but hesitant -something you weren't used to from him.
He opened the front door and held it for you without a word, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for something. You stepped inside, your pulse quickening when you felt him right behind you, the air heavy with unspoken words.
"Y/n," he said softly, his voice raw and unfamiliar.
You froze in place, your back still to him, your hand tightening around the strap of your purse when you were able to recognize that tone in his voice. You didn't want to do this. You couldn't do this. Not now. Not after everything.
But Jungkook wasn't giving you a choice.
"I've thought about you every damn day," he said, his voice breaking ever so slightly. "Every night. Two months, Y/n. Do you know what it's like to feel haunted by someone who isn't even there?"
Your breath hitched, and you turned around slowly, meeting his eyes. His usual armor -the smirk, the cocky confidence- was nowhere to be found. Instead, he looked... tired. Vulnerable. And painfully sincere.
"I hated it," he continued, stepping closer. "And then there's that... Steve" he practically spat the name, his jaw tightening. "You think he's good for you? He's not. He'll never know you like I do. He'll never be able to keep up with you".
"Jungkook..." you started, but he cut you off.
"No," he said firmly. "Let me finish. I know I've made mistakes. I know I pushed you away when I should've done everything to keep you. And I know it's selfish to drag you back when you started to move on. But it drove me insane knowing someone else was filling the space I left empty" his voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "I can't lose you. Not again".
His words hit you like a punch to the chest, every syllable unraveling the carefully constructed wall you had built over the past two months. Your throat tightened, tears threatening to rise, but you clenched your jaw, refusing to let them fall.
"Stop," you said quietly, your voice trembling despite your best efforts.
Jungkook's eyes flickered with confusion, but he obeyed, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"I can't hear this," you whispered, shaking your head. "Not now".
"Why?" he asked, taking another step closer, his eyes searching for yours.
"Because..." your voice caught in your throat.
You didn't know how to finish that sentence without exposing the feelings you were trying so hard to bury.
"Y/n," he said, softer this time, his hand reaching out as if to touch you but stopping halfway.
You took a step back, your heart hammering in your chest. "I need... I need space".
The room fell into a suffocating silence, the weight of his confession hanging heavy between you. Jungkook nodded slowly, his expression unreadable, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Okay," he said quietly, his voice barely audible. "I'll give you space".
You turned away quickly, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. But even as you walked toward the stairs, his words echoed in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.
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The restaurant was warm and filled with life, but you felt cold, your thoughts miles away from the conversation. Steve sat across from you, his smile easy, his words familiar and comforting, yet you barely registered a word. Your mind kept drifting back -back to the house you shared with Jungkook, to the memories that clung to you like a second skin.
"Y/n?" Steve called gently, his brow furrowed as he leaned closer. "Are you okay?"
"Huh?" You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. "Yeah, sorry. Just... tired".
But you weren't tired. You were haunted. Haunted by the way Jungkook had started chipping away at your carefully built walls without even trying.
The mornings when you'd come down for coffee, and he'd already be there, leaning casually against the counter, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, holding out a cup he'd made just the way you liked it.
"Morning," he'd say, his voice low and husky from sleep, a knowing smile tugging at his lips when your fingers brushed as you took the cup.
The way he'd linger close -always too close. Passing by you in the hall of your office, his hand grazing your lower back, his touch sending sparks up your spine. Or how his eyes would follow you in meetings at the office, dark and intense, making you forget what you were supposed to be saying.
And the nights. The nights were the worst.
"Do you always work this late?" Jungkook had asked one evening, standing in your doorway, his tie loosened, his eyes tired but warm.
"I like working late," you had replied, barely glancing up from your laptop. But you'd felt his presence, the air charged with that electric tension.
"Liar," he'd muttered under his breath with a chuckle, disappearing down the hall before you could respond.
Every little thing he did had felt deliberate -small, intimate gestures that blurred the lines you had tried so desperately to draw.
And now, sitting across from Steve, you felt the weight of those memories pressing down on you like a tidal wave. You weren't the same person who had walked out of Jungkook's life two months ago. You had been reshaped, little by little, without even realizing it.
"Y/n, we need to talk" Steve said suddenly, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind. Those words brought you back instantly "I've noticed... Y/n, I think something's changed between us".
You looked up at him, startled. "What do you mean?"
He studied you for a long moment, his expression soft but knowing. "You seem... distracted. Distant, even. And I don't think it's just work. We barely see each other, and it's always one excuse after the other. And the little we get to see each other, you wear that fucking ring like you're actually married to him" subtly, your eyes moved down to your hand.
He was right. The first time it happened, Steve pointed it out with a joke. But the second, the third time... he noticed something was off with the way you started becoming more attached to that piece of jewelry. He noticed how you were distancing yourself from him, as if you never wanted to move on from the person who put it on you in the first place.
"I..." you tried to deny it, but the words caught in your throat.
"You're in love with him," Steve said gently, his eyes sad but honest.
Your breath caught in your chest, your pulse racing.
"No, I'm not," you said quickly, too quickly. "It's complicated".
Steve leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "No, it's not. It's pretty simple, actually. You're still wearing his mark in every part of your life, even if you don't see it. And maybe you've convinced yourself that you've moved on, but trust me... you haven't" he sighed, his back resting on the backrest. "When we started seeing each other, I thought you'd eventually forget about him. But now that he's back, I can see it even clearer on you. You think of him the way I think of you".
His words stung because they were true.
"I... I don't know how I feel about Jungkook. But you're right about one thing: I think about him the way I wished I thought about you" you sighed. "And I've been so selfish with you, so unfair... It shouldn't have taken me this long to realize".
Or maybe you did realize earlier, but you just clung to the idea that the stability Steve kept offering you was all you ever wanted. You tried to cover up your feelings with what you wanted.
"I'm really sorry for putting you in this position, I'm really sorry for hurting you and making you waste your time. I shouldn't have..."
"I knew what I was doing when I first walked in" Steve smirked. "It was also my choice to stay. I just hope he can be better and make you the happiest, because it's the only thing you deserve, Y/n".
Your heart broke when you watched him getting up and walking to you, his lips leaving a small kiss on your forehead before he started walking towards the exit.
It was over.
The front door clicked shut behind you, the soft sound of the lock sliding into place echoing in the quiet house when you came back home. You kicked off your heels, your jaw tight and your mind a tangled mess of emotions. Your heart raced -half from the lingering tension with Steve, half from the anticipation of seeing Jungkook.
The lights in the living room were turned on, you didn't need to catch a glimpse of Jungkook sitting on the couch to know he was there, his elbows were resting on his knees, his dark eyes locked on you the second you stepped inside. He looked like he'd been waiting for you, his jaw clenched, his tie loosened around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone.
He was indeed waiting for you. You arrived one hour late to the time you first agreed on your conditions, and his mind was already racing with all the things you could be doing, or the things that could've happened to you.
"Late night?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge.
You froze, your pulse quickening as the weight of the conversation you'd just had with Steve pressed down on you. "Don't start, Jungkook. I'm not in the mood tonight".
He stood, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. "I'm just curious. Did your boyfriend have something interesting to say?"
You glared at him, your fingers curling into fists at your sides. "This is none of your business".
He chuckled bitterly, his eyes darkening. "None of my business? You live in my house, Y/n. Everything about you is my business".
"You're unbelievable," you shot back, your voice rising. "I live in your house because you wanted it that way. We're still married because you wanted it that way. You made me your business because you're fucking insane" you snapped back "Yet I'm the one who owes you explanations and details?"
Jungkook stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You do owe me an explanation, at the very least. You disappear for hours, come back with that look on your face, and I'm just supposed to act like it doesn't bother me?"
"It shouldn't!" you snapped. "This marriage is a lie, Jungkook! You don't get to be jealous or possessive. Fuck fuck's sake, you shouldn't even be worried. You said it yourself! It's meaningless, remember?"
He flinched at your words, his eyes narrowing. "You're really going to throw that in my face again?"
"You gave me no choice," you hissed. "I'm just playing by the rules you set, Jungkook".
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you crackling with tension. His eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite place: frustration, anger, and something deeper, something dangerous.
"Fine," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "If that's how you want it".
You turned on your heel, heading for the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest. But Jungkook wasn't finished.
"You can run upstairs and lock yourself in that room all you want," he called after you. "But you can't keep avoiding this forever".
You didn't respond, your footsteps heavy as you climbed the stairs. When you reached your room, you slammed the door shut and leaned against it, your chest heaving.
The truth was, you were more terrified of not running.
Terrified that if you let him close again, you wouldn't have the strength to push him away.
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Weeks passed, and the house felt colder with every passing day.
The distance between you and Jungkook had become a silent war -each of you too proud to surrender, too stubborn to bridge the gap. Every interaction was brief and transactional, your words clipped, your glances fleeting.
And yet, he was always there. Always watching. Always close enough to remind you that no matter how much space you tried to put between you, it was never enough.
Tonight was no different.
You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, applying the final touch of lipstick. The buzzing of your phone vibrated on the dresser -a message from your friends confirming the plans for the night.
You slipped into your heels, grabbed your jacket, and headed toward the door. The house was unusually quiet, but you barely noticed. You were halfway down the stairs when Jungkook's voice, low and groggy, stopped you in your tracks.
"Where are you going?"
You turned to find him leaning against the doorframe of the living room. His hair was tousled, his face pale, and he clutched the front of his shirt as if he could barely stand. His eyes met yours, and for a split second, you hesitated.
"Out," you said slowly, your brow furrowing. "Are you... okay?"
Jungkook groaned softly, staggering toward the couch and sinking onto it with a dramatic sigh. "I don't think so... I've felt off all day. I didn't even go to work".
When you didn't see him in the office, you thought it was because he was avoiding you as hard as you were avoiding him.
But you were wrong.
You crossed your arms, watching him closely. He looked convincingly miserable -too miserable, almost.
"You seemed fine earlier," you said, raising a brow.
You did catch a glimpse of him when you came back from the office. Truth was that you didn't pay enough attention to him, while he was lying on the couch, to tell whether he was really sick or just having a lazy day.
"I've been sick all day" he muttered, rubbing his forehead as if the weight of the world rested there. "Maybe it's a fever. Or worse. Who knows? I might not even wake up tomorrow".
You narrowed your eyes. "Are you seriously faking being sick to keep me from leaving?"
His head shot up, a spark of offense flashing in his eyes. "What? No!" he coughed -a little too perfectly timed. "I would never. I just thought... maybe you could stay. You know, in case I need... help".
A short laugh escaped you despite yourself. "Help with what? Tucking you in?"
Jungkook's lips curved into a small smirk, the sickly act slipping for a second. "Well, since you're offering..."
You shook your head, exasperated. "For real...."
He leaned back into the couch, his expression softening as he looked up at you. "Come on, just stay. Just tonight" his voice dropped, quieter, almost vulnerable. "It's been a while since we've had dinner together. I'll make it worth your while".
Something about the way he said it made your pulse quicken. His eyes -dark and earnest- locked onto yours, and suddenly, you were questioning whether you wanted to leave at all.
You sighed, glancing at the door one last time before slipping out of your heels and tossing your jacket onto a nearby chair. "Fine. But only because I don't want to come home and find you passed out on the floor".
Jungkook's eyes lit up for a brief second before he coughed again -weakly, almost theatrically- and leaned back on the couch like he was barely holding on. "I knew I could count on you".
You rolled your eyes, walking over to the other side of the room. "What do you want for dinner?"
"Takeout. Whatever you feel like," Jungkook said, already reaching for his phone. "My treat".
It wasn't long before the smell of food filled the house. Jungkook had ordered your favorite dishes, and despite yourself, you couldn't help but appreciate the thoughtfulness. The two of you sat cross-legged on the living room floor, cartons of takeout spread between you, soft music playing in the background.
He passed you a pair of chopsticks, his fingers brushing yours for a second longer than necessary. "You're too quiet tonight," he murmured, his eyes lingering on you. "What's on your mind?"
You gave a noncommittal shrug, focusing on your food. "Nothing much".
"Liar," he teased, nudging your leg gently with his knee. "You always get that look when something's bothering you".
"You're imagining things," you replied, taking a sip of your drink.
He watched you for a moment, his playful smirk fading into something softer. "I missed this".
Your breath hitched slightly, but you quickly masked it. "You mean tricking me into staying home while you fake a near-death experience?"
Jungkook chuckled, a warm, genuine sound. "No. I mean... being with you like this. Talking. Eating. Just... being".
You hated how easily his words unsettled you, how they made your carefully constructed walls tremble just a little.
"Don't get used to it," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent. "You're not that convincing, by the way".
His brows lifted. "What do you mean?"
"You forgot you were supposed to be sick about twenty minutes ago".
Jungkook froze, his chopsticks hovering mid-air, then laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I got caught up in the moment".
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Uh-huh. Caught up in ordering half the menu and devouring it like you haven't eaten in a week?"
He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "I haven't eaten in a whole day... almost. I needed to be convincing".
"You keep proving how crazy you are" you said dryly, but you couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at your lips.
As the evening stretched on, the atmosphere grew warmer, more intimate. You leaned back on the couch, full and content, while Jungkook sat beside you, his arm resting on the back cushion, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulder.
He didn't say much after that, just watched you in quiet contemplation, his gaze unreadable but steady, like he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment.
And for once, you didn't pull away.
"After all these months... I still don't know why you agreed to marry me" he said out of the blue, catching you off guard. "You're old enough to refuse. What could've your parents done to you? Block your cards?"
Your feet hesitated over the edge of the coffee table, while those memories came back after being left to the deepest area in your brain.
"I don't know. And I didn't want to risk learning it" you mumbled. "Sometimes I think they adopted me to trade me for something better" you scoffed, saying those thoughts out loud for the first time. "You can say all my life since I moved with them was about that. I was never a daughter, but an object to exchange. It's okay though" you sighed "I learned to live like that".
Jungkook stared at you for a few seconds in silence, drinking in every expression, every small gesture that gave out more of your feelings.
"I never thought of you that way" he admitted. "Before we married, I was attracted to you. Really attracted, I mean... You have no idea the amount of times that..."
"Jungkook, stop" you chuckled, attempting to hide your face behind your palms.
"What I mean is that our marriage just helped fasten things. Then I started to know you more after we moved in together, and I swear I've never been more lost with someone else before. Every little thing, even things I thought I already knew, made me feel like I was rewriting you all over again. I think... I started falling for you much earlier than I should've. And God, it felt so fucking good".
You could just stare at him as he spoke, trying to find a hint on how he was playing you, but there was nothing at all.
"But then... then you overheard me talking to Eunwoo... I knew the second I saw your face that I'd ruined everything. I hated myself for it. Every damn day after you left, I cursed myself for not stopping you".
Your breath caught in your throat. The sincerity in his voice, the cracks in his carefully guarded composure... It was too much. Too real.
"I just want you to know that I didn't say those things to hurt you," Jungkook began, his jaw tightening. "I didn't feel them. I could never feel them. I said them because I thought I was protecting you".
"Protecting me?" you blinked, confusion flickering across your face.
"My father started getting suspicious of us when I kept dodging the topic every time he brought up the divorce. And it got worse when I suggested you to become part of the company, because you're brilliant and you have amazing ideas, and you'd add so much by doing what you love... And you proved it these weeks. But my father thought that maybe I was getting too invested in you, and having us involved together in something else would only make it harder for us to part ways. I didn't want you to become a target, I didn't want you in between the crossfire".
You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. "So your solution was to tell Eunwoo that I meant nothing to you?"
"I panicked. Eunwoo and his mother have a tight connection with my father, so maybe if I reassured him that everything was as always..." Jungkook admitted, his voice cracking just slightly. "I thought if I made it sound like it was all just business, like I didn't care... it would all stop. My father would leave you alone, and we'd be able to keep going for a little longer until we got strong enough. No one would question your success, and with just a little more time we would've gotten strong enough to get through everything. I didn't realize how wrong I was until it was too late".
He ran a hand down his face, his frustration evident. "It backfired in the worst way. You heard it, and it broke us. I would've taken it back in a heartbeat if I could".
"What changed now? Because I doubt your father was happy with the idea of having me back".
"It's worse to have you away, and share you with someone else, than going through a war against my father to keep you in my life" he whispered. "When I signed those papers... I was so angry at you, but I was angrier at me, because I thought I wasn't going to be able to protect you. And then you signed them as well, and I couldn't find the courage to file them and present them in court. It was the only thing that kept us together".
You leaned back against the couch, folding your arms tightly across your chest, trying to put some distance between yourself and the raw vulnerability in Jungkook's eyes.
"The first week, I tried to get you out of my head and convince myself that it was for the better. I kept postponing presenting the files until I realized I didn't want to".
You opened your mouth to respond, but the way Jungkook's gaze darkened made you stop short. He pressed his lips into a thin line, as if weighing what to say next, before finally leaning closer -too close.
"I gave you space, I let you live your life" he said, his voice low, almost dangerously calm. "But you didn't really think I'd let you go, didn't you?"
Your pulse quickened, unease spreading through your chest. "What are you talking about?"
Jungkook tilted his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I never stopped keeping tabs on you. Not once. Those months we were apart? I knew exactly where you were, what you were doing... and who you were with".
Your heart stopped. "You... what?"
Jungkook shook his head, his expression almost regretful. "I wanted to let you move on at first... but the second I saw him holding your hand, touching you like you were his, I couldn't stand it. So I made sure he wouldn't last long in your life." he paused, leaning closer. "Did you ever wonder why Steve's company suddenly lost that big contract? Why he became distant, out of nowhere?"
Your stomach churned. You had wondered. You remember the big turn in Steve's personality after that, but you two managed to get him back on the right road.
"You..." your voice shook with rage. "You almost ruined his career just to... what? Keep me single?"
Jungkook's jaw tightened. "To bring you back where you belong" his voice softened, his eyes blazing with something raw and possessive. "With me" he sighed, slightly throwing his head back "When you didn't break up after that, I knew I needed to do something else. And that was why I showed up looking for you and bringing you back".
Your breath caught in your throat, torn between fury and disbelief. "You're sick in the head".
"Maybe," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you can't deny that part of you wanted to come back. Even now, you're still here. You're still mine."
Your hands clenched into fists as his words settled like poison in your veins. "Mine." That one word snapped something inside you, sending you spiraling between anger and something far more dangerous.
Shit... why was your body feeling lighter after his confession? Why were you so eager for his lips? Why did his twisted actions work to make your heart beat faster for him?
"I know you're feeling the same way even if you're with that prick" he whispered, his fingers softly tracing your jaw.
He shifted closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours, rubbing your skin over your tights. He looked into your eyes, and you could feel a spark ignite between you. "Y/n, love," he said softly, "I've been an idiot. I'm sorry."
Jungkook leaned in, his lips gently brushing against yours, instantly getting them to part as if he had thrown a spell on you. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch, getting lost in the rush when he finally linked your lips together. It was slow, gentle, as if he was afraid you'd move away. But slowly, your lips sucked on his, your lower lip molding in between them, the kiss deepening as your tongues explored each other's mouths, the mere contact making the two of you moan. Jungkook's hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, making sure there wouldn't be a single inch between your bodies.
After the distance between you, he couldn't tolerate any physical space.
"You taste so good," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "I've missed this".
You moaned softly, your lips still brushing his, your body responding to his touch. "I've missed you too," you finally admitted, your voice breathless.
When you kissed again, you could feel the air shifting, the tension turned into something heavier, something that almost made you eat the other alive.
Jungkook's hand moved up to cup your breast, his fingers gently squeezing while his thumb rubbed against your nipple through the fabric of your dress. Shocked by pleasure, you stopped the kiss to bite his lower lip for a few seconds, the time it took you to control your own moan. "Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice a low growl, when you finally released his lip.
"Yes," you whispered, your voice filled with need. "I want you".
Jungkook's hand moved to the hem of your dress, slowly lifting it up, his warm palm covering every inch of skin he went through as he moved it up. And every centimeter of skin that was exposed made you eager for more. You raised your arms when he pulled the elastic fabric up enough, allowing him to remove it completely. Jungkook leaned down, his lips capturing one of your nipples through the lace of your bra, having your back arching and your body surrendering to him as you rested against the backrest of the couch. You moaned, your hands tangling in his hair to make sure he wouldn't move away.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to unclasp your bra. "I could touch you all day".
Your bra fell away, and Jungkook's hands replaced the lace, cupping your bare breasts with an eroticism that had your breath catching in your throat. He kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands explored your body, he wanted to make it clear you were his. Not to you, but to his own self. Your hands moved to his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly.
"I want to feel you," you whispered, your fingers tracing the muscles of his chest.
Jungkook moved away shortly, just enough to allow you to remove his shirt completely. He unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers. Your eyes widened as you saw his hardened bulge, straining against his briefs.
"You're already like this?" she chuckled, looking up to his eyes.
Jungkook smirked, hooking his thumbs into his briefs and pushing them down. "You keep underestimating the power you have over me, love. My whole body reacts for you".
Your hands moved to your tights, pushing them down along with your panties. Jungkook kneeled on the couch, his hands moving to your thighs, taking you by surprise when he leaned in, his tongue flicking against your clit.
You gasped, your body bucking against his touch. "Jung... kook," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair.
His tongue continued to explore you, his fingers joining in, sliding in and out of her wetness with a slow motion that had you sinking deeper on the couch. Your moans filled the room, your body writhing against his touch.
"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with desire, before licking again.
As minutes passed, you could feel your body tensing, your high crashing over you with such intensity that you saw white for a mini second. Jungkook's tongue continued to move, drawing out your pleasure, not wanting to move away from you. Your muscles relaxed, although not entirely, because you were back at that state of arousal that had you edging for more, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
Jungkook stood up, his hands cupping your face to stop you before your mouth could reach his length. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with all the filthy things you wanted to happen.
You wanted him.
"I have to be inside you first" he bent over to kiss you. "It's the only right way to do it".
His hands hooked below your arms to pull you up, to quickly move around your waist and your nape to link your lips once more. His touch felt as if he wanted you to become one: the way he kept sticking your body close to his, the way his hand on your hair tangled around the locks to pull you deeper for the kiss, the way his nails scratched your back... It was more than just love.
You'd have walked blindly towards your room if you hadn't stumbled and fell over the stairs. Neither of you knew whether it was the need or hunger, but neither of you got up. Jungkook made sure to place you so you'd be sitting on the step while your back and head resting on the others, with his body barely making it on the edge to fit in between your legs.
He positioned himself at your entrance, his dick sliding in slowly. You moaned, your body adjusting to his size after so long. Jungkook began to move, his hips thrusting against yours slowly at first, trying to memorize the feeling, the way your walls wrapped around him so good that he almost forgot how to breathe.
"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice filled with pleasure.
Your hands moved to his back, your nails digging into his skin while your legs wrapped higher on his waist. "Jungkook, please," you moaned, your body arching against his.
You didn't know to specify what you wanted, he already knew. Jungkook's thrusts became more forceful, his body slamming against yours. You didn't even care how the edge of the step kept hitting against your back, that pain became part of the pleasure at some point. Your moans filled the hall, your body responding to his touch in a way it hadn't before. "Yes" you moaned, your body tensing as another wave of pleasure approached. "Jungkook" your voice cracked.
Jungkook's thrusts became erratic, his body tensing as he tried to control his own release from coming. But it was so hard, he ended up spilling himself inside you, his hips sloppily moving while his dick twitched wrapped around your walls, his lips seeking for yours to let you know he wasn't done.
Somehow, you made it to his room, the bed looked like a battlefield from all the turns and shifts, the sheets stained with sweat and something else.
Your body collapsed a third time over the mattress, your moan prolonging a bit longer while you tried to catch your breath. It was like a reward for getting him hard again when you sucked him off through his release during the second round.
Your ears beeped, your sight was blurry, but the only thing your over sensitive body could feel was the way his body collapsed on top of you, his body shuddering with his orgasm.
You laid there for a moment, your bodies entwined, his face hiding in the curve of your neck while he whispered the most devoted words to your ear. He rolled off of you, just to pull you close. You snuggled against him, your body still humming with pleasure, ignoring the rational part of your brain that was asking you to leave.
You'd have plenty of chances to act that way. During that night, you just wanted to be with him.
"I love you, Y/n," he whispered. "Even if you hate me for what I did, even if your heart belongs to someone else. I fucking love you, Y/n. And I doubt I'll ever be able to feel the same way about someone else".
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The sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred awake, the weight of last night pressing down on your chest as memories flashed through your mind: Jungkook's confession, the tension, and how everything had unraveled after, how you tried to ignore it as he hugged you closer to help you fall asleep.
For a second, you hoped it had been a dream, but the faint hum of activity outside your bedroom told you otherwise. Jungkook was already awake.
You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up. The silence in the house was oppressive, a sharp contrast to the heated exchange from hours before. After throwing on something casual, you padded barefoot into the kitchen, where you found him leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee in hand.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Morning," he said, his voice low, almost cautious.
You nodded, walking past him to pour yourself a cup of coffee. The air between you felt suffocating, thick with words that had already been said, and some others that were left unspoken.
"Did you sleep well?" Jungkook asked, breaking the silence.
You glanced at him briefly. "Fine".
He took a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving yours. "About last night..."
"Let's not," you cut him off, your tone firmer than you intended. "I think we've said enough".
His jaw clenched, but he nodded, stepping aside as you moved toward the fridge. You grabbed some fruit, peeling it in silence, feeling his eyes on you the entire time.
"Are you really going to pretend it didn't happen?" he finally asked, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "What I said, what we shared... it wasn't nothing".
You set the fruit down with a soft thud, turning to face him. "I'm not pretending it didn't happen. I just don't know what you expect me to do with it".
"I expect you to stop running," he said, taking a step closer. "To stop hiding behind your walls every time things get complicated. Fuck, I thought we were getting somewhere".
"And I expect you to stop playing with my life," you shot back. "You've been controlling everything since the beginning, how am I supposed to trust this isn't just another game to you?"
He looked genuinely hurt for a moment, his expression softening. "It's not a game," he said quietly. "It's never been a game. You're the only thing that's ever felt real in all of this".
His words made your heart twist painfully, but you pushed it aside, unwilling to let him see how deeply they affected you. "I need time," you said again, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't just flip a switch and forget everything that happened".
Jungkook's shoulders sagged slightly, his frustration giving way to something more vulnerable. "I get it," he said after a pause. "Take all the time you need. But I'm not going anywhere".
You stared at him for a long moment before turning away, grabbing your coffee and heading back to your room.
You thought that would be the end of the conversation, at least for now. But Jungkook had never been one to back down so easily, and deep down, you knew this was far from over.
Later that evening, the house was unusually quiet. You sat on the edge of the couch, staring blankly at the television, not even registering the images flashing across the screen. The weight of everything that had happened lingered heavily between you and Jungkook, who sat a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you rather than the show.
"Y/n," Jungkook said softly, breaking the silence. His tone was different -calm, almost resigned. "We need to talk".
You turned to face him, your heart tightening at the serious look in his eyes. "About what?"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his fingers laced together. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by something more vulnerable. "I've been thinking... maybe I've been holding on too tightly".
Your breath hitched slightly, but you kept your expression neutral. "What do you mean?"
Jungkook looked at you with a mix of sadness and determination. "I've forced you to stay. Dragged you back into my life without giving you much of a choice. I thought it was what I needed to keep you close, but... I can see how much it's been tearing you apart".
You opened your mouth to speak, but he raised a hand to stop you. "Let me finish," he said gently. "If you want to go, I won't stop you this time. No tricks, no conditions. I'll set you free" his voice caught slightly on the last word. "I just want you to be happy, even if that means it's not with me".
The air seemed to leave the room all at once. His words, so final, hit you harder than you expected. For months, you had wanted exactly this -a clean break, a way out. But now that he was offering it, your chest tightened painfully.
"You're... serious?" you asked, barely above a whisper.
"Yes," he said quietly, his eyes searching for yours. "I'm tired of forcing you to stay in a place you don't want to be. I love you too much to keep you trapped here".
Your throat constricted to the raw emotion in his voice. His confession hung in the air, making it nearly impossible to breathe. You wanted to say something -anything- but the words wouldn't come.
For the first time, it felt like the walls you had built around yourself were beginning to crumble, piece by piece. And it scared you more than anything.
Jungkook smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'll leave you alone tonight. You can think about it. Just... let me know what you decide".
He stood slowly, his steps heavy as he walked toward the hallway. You watched him disappear around the corner, your chest tightening more with every step he took.
Alone in the silence, you realized that maybe, just maybe, the thing you were most afraid of wasn't staying with Jungkook -it was losing him entirely. You fell for him too long ago, you refused to see it even when Steve threw it at your face, and now you were scared of the aftermath of building all those walls around you.
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The tension had been eating you alive for days. Each passing hour only made it worse. Jungkook had given you space -too much space- and the longer you waited, the more you hated it. You had tried to convince yourself that you needed time, but deep down, you knew the truth. You didn't want time. You didn't want to be free.
You wanted to be with him.
The realization hit you like a freight train as you found yourself pacing outside his company's headquarters. This was reckless -completely irrational- but you didn't care.
With your heart in your throat, you pushed through the glass doors of the building, ignoring the curious glances from employees as you made your way to the top floor. The elevator ride felt endless, every second ticking by with the weight of everything unsaid between you.
When the doors opened, you strode into his office like a storm. His secretary tried to stop you, stammering something about an important meeting, but you barely heard her. Nothing mattered except getting to Jungkook.
He was in the middle of a conversation with a group of executives when you burst through the door. His head snapped up, eyes widening in shock. For a moment, the room fell into stunned silence.
"Y/n?" his voice was calm, but the confusion and flicker of hope in his eyes betrayed him.
You didn't respond -not with words, at least. You crossed the room in long, determined strides, your pulse racing. The executives glanced at each other, murmuring awkwardly, but you didn't care.
You stopped right in front of him, your gaze locking onto his, while your hands were holding the divorce papers he kept in his office. You ripped the papers, throwing them over his desk. Then, without a second thought, you grabbed the front of his suit jacket and pulled him down into a kiss.
It wasn't gentle or hesitant. It was fierce and all-consuming, filled with every emotion you'd been holding back for months -anger, longing, love. Jungkook froze for half a second before his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you back with equal intensity.
The room erupted in gasps, but the world faded away. There was only him -his warmth, his scent, the way his lips molded perfectly to yours.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, Jungkook's eyes searched yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"I don't want a divorce," you said, your voice trembling but determined. "I don't want to leave. I want to be with you, Jungkook. I want to love you, I want the freaky sex and the cozy nights in, the boring days and the full family pack. I want you".
A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across his face. His grip on your waist tightened slightly. "Say it again," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart.
"I want you," you repeated, tears welling in your eyes. "I love you".
Jungkook pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that".
The executives were still awkwardly lingering nearby, but Jungkook didn't seem to care anymore. He leaned down to kiss you again -softer this time, filled with the promise of everything yet to come.
He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "Let's go home." When he turned to the executives, all of them were dedicating him a confused look "We'll retake this tomorrow morning. As you can see, my wife needs me".
Jungkook intertwined his fingers with yours, leading you out of the office without a second glance at the stunned executives. His grip was firm, almost desperate, like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go.
Neither of you said a word on the elevator ride down, tension crackling between you like a live wire. His thumb traced absent circles on the back of your hand, a gesture that felt far too intimate for someone who had just promised to set you free days earlier.
Once you stepped outside, the cool evening breeze hit you, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside you. Jungkook's black car was already waiting at the curb. He opened the door for you, his eyes dark and unreadable, and you slid inside without hesitation.
The ride home was thick with silence, but not the cold kind you'd endured for weeks. This one was heavier -charged with everything still left unsaid. Every glance he stole at you from the driver's seat only made your pulse quicken, while his smirk grew when he felt the muscles on your thigh tensing under his touch as he reached for it.
When you arrived back at the house, Jungkook barely waited for the door to close before pulling you into him. His lips found yours again, urgent and demanding, as he backed you against the wall in the entryway.
"I meant what I said," you whispered between kisses, your fingers curling into the fabric of his blazer. "I'm not leaving".
Jungkook rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. "Good," he muttered, his voice rough with emotion. "Because I'm never letting you go again".
His hands moved to cup your face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. "Do you know how many times I've imagined you coming back to me like this?" he whispered, his thumb brushing across your cheek. "How many times I regretted pushing you away?"
"Then don't push me away this time," you said softly, your own voice trembling.
A flicker of vulnerability crossed his face -a crack in his carefully built armor. "I won't," he promised. "Not ever again".
He kissed you once more -slow and deliberate, savoring every second as if he were trying to memorize the feel of you all over again. And this time, it wasn't just a kiss filled with heat and passion. It was filled with something deeper -something neither of you dared put into words just yet.
"Come with me," Jungkook said, his voice low and inviting. His fingers laced with yours again as he led you upstairs, his steps steady but purposeful.
This time, there were no barriers between you. No distance. No hesitation.
You were back home.
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Months had passed, and spring wrapped the city in soft sunlight and blooming flowers, a perfect backdrop for what was meant to be a "first-anniversary celebration" in everyone else's eyes. But to you and Jungkook, this was more than a party. This was your real wedding -a chance to do things right. No forced arrangements, no hidden agendas, no resentment. Just the two of you, ready to start again.
The preparations had consumed you for weeks, but for once, you didn't mind. Every decision felt personal now -every detail a piece of who you had become together. The venue was an intimate garden, bathed in warm light and adorned with white roses, soft candles flickering on every table. Guests mingled, clueless to the significance of the ceremony.
You stood in front of the mirror in the bridal suite, your heart racing as you smoothed down the lace bodice of your gown. This time, there was no hesitation, no dread weighing down your steps.
A knock at the door broke your thoughts.
"Come in," you called softly.
The door opened, and Jungkook stood there, already dressed in his tailored black suit, looking devastatingly handsome. His tie hung loose around his neck, as though he'd been too restless to finish getting ready.
"You're not supposed to see me before the ceremony," you teased, smiling despite the fluttering in your chest.
"I know," he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. His eyes softened as he looked at you. "But I couldn't wait. I needed to see you".
He walked toward you, stopping just short of touching you. His eyes roamed over your face, his expression shifting from admiration to something deeper.
"You're beautiful," he whispered. "But more than that... you're mine".
You felt your throat tighten at the sincerity in his voice. "Jungkook..."
"I know this is just an anniversary party for everyone else, but for me... this is it. This is our real beginning," he said, his voice low and earnest. "No pretenses, no games. Just us. I love you, Y/n. More than anything".
Your breath hitched at the words -so simple, yet so powerful. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.
"I love you too," you said softly. "And I can't wait to marry you. For real this time".
A rare, boyish smile spread across his face. "Then let's go out there and do it right".
As you walked down the aisle moments later, everything felt different from that day months ago. This time, his eyes didn't carry worry or uncertainty. They were filled with warmth and love, unwavering as they locked on you.
And this time, when you reached him at the end of the aisle, it felt like the happiest day of your life.
The soft hum of a string quartet filled the air, blending with the scent of fresh roses as you stood across from Jungkook. His hand was steady in yours, his eyes never once leaving your face. The officiant spoke gently, inviting you to share your vows.
Jungkook had already said his -a tender, heartfelt confession of love and promises, full of words you never imagined hearing from him when your marriage first began. You barely managed to hold it together. But now, it was your turn.
Your throat felt tight, and for a moment, your eyes flicked to the guests seated around you. Then back to Jungkook. Only him.
You took a deep breath, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions flooding your chest.
"I've thought a lot about this moment," you began, your eyes locking on his, "what I'd say if I ever got the chance to do this right. The truth is... I didn't believe this would make me so happy when this all started. I didn't believe we'd make it. We were too different. Too stubborn. Too much like enemies who refused to surrender".
Jungkook's lips curled into a faint smile, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly, encouraging you to continue.
"And yet," you said, your voice softening, "somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, you became the person I didn't want to live without, you showed me a love and support I haven't ever seen in anyone else. I tried to fight it, I really did. But every time you stood by me -every time you pushed me to be stronger, even when I hated you for it- you made me realize something: I wasn't scared of you. I was scared of how much I needed you".
The air felt thicker, the world narrowing until it was just the two of you. Jungkook's eyes glistened, though he said nothing, waiting for you to finish.
"I love you," you confessed, your voice trembling now. "I love your strength, your loyalty, and your ridiculous determination to win every argument. I love how you see through me, even when I try to hide. I love how, no matter how hard I push, you always pull me back. So today, I'm choosing you again. Not because I have to. Not because of expectations. But because I want to. Every day, for the rest of my life... I want you, Jungkook. And I promise to always fight for us -just like you've always fought for me".
The guests seemed to vanish in the background, replaced by a heavy, electric silence. Jungkook's thumb brushed over your knuckles, his eyes filled with something raw and overwhelming. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely audible.
"You've just ruined me," he whispered with a soft, breathless laugh.
You cleaned each other's tears while smiling, your touch feeling as raw and sensitive as never before.
The officiant, or more like someone you hired to play it for that party, smiled knowingly. "I think it's time to seal these vows with a kiss."
Jungkook didn't hesitate. His hand cupped your cheek tighter, drawing you in for a slow, tender kiss -one filled with promises and beginnings, a far cry from the fiery, desperate kisses you had shared before. This one was different.
When you pulled back, breathless and dazed, the crowd erupted in cheers. But Jungkook only had eyes for you. And you only had eyes for him. 
Taglist: @almostpurplelady
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rindreamery · 2 days ago
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nishi's thoughts ─ mikage reo x reader ─ royal!au
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“prince reo, we should not be doing this. i’m sure his majesty has noticed your absence by now—” yet, despite your complaints, you’re met with silence. 
reo’s footsteps never falter, his grip on your wrist firm, and pace still as brisk as ever as he leads you through the garden maze. the chatter and loud music playing from the ballroom starts to slowly fade into the distance, muffled by the tall hedges that surround the two of you, until all you can hear is the crunch of the grass underneath your feet. it’s now just you, him, and the silence of the early night. and, for a second, concern overwhelms your mind; now at the aspect of being caught alone, together, and the idea of potentially becoming lost. 
as if sensing another complaint, he throws you a quick look over his shoulder, looking quite blasé— unconcerned, indifferent, completely at-ease as opposed to you. he doesn’t smile at you, he doesn’t try to provide you with any verbal reassurance, but the subtle squeeze of his hand against your wrist is all you need. “you know, you worry way too much,” is all he says.
“because you make it difficult not to,” you shoot back, your lips curving into a faint frown. “if i must remind you, his majesty is throwing this ball for you. i’m sure the guests are wondering where you are, by now.”
he misses a beat in his steps, stiffening momentarily at the mention of him, but you don’t notice. 
“i don’t care about them,” reo’s response after comes rather quickly, and there’s a slight agitation in his voice as he speaks. tense, but in a way that’s so subdued that it almost flies over your head. almost, because you know better, and the inflection in his voice has you glancing at him through your peripheral. “this ball is my father’s way of searching for marriage prospects for me.”
you can almost see it; the way his mind clouds over in a dark fog at the idea, the word ringing like a haunting bell amidst the fog. the idea of an arranged marriage, you understand, has always been a touchy subject for him. obvious in the way he runs away from it, both metaphorically and literally, effectively dodging any and every opportunity given by his father. 
it’s also obvious in the way his fingers dig into your pulse point, fingers clenching around your wrist as marriage slips from his lips. you wince at the sensation, an elusive frown forming between your brows, but you don’t speak on it. instead, you rack your mind with things to say to him— words of comfort, maybe advice, or maybe a simple way of telling him that you’re there if he needs a shoulder to lean on. 
but, what could you say? you had never been in this situation before. so, all you could think of is, “oh.” 
“i don’t want to get married.” reo continues, honestly, voice distant and trailing off. you ignore the dull pang in your heart, that this isn’t about you, so you purse your lips and offer him your silence. “— to them.” he quickly adds, looking over at you as he says it.
your eyes meet his in the dark, only the moonlight illuminating the earnest glint in his eyes. your breath hitches at the idea, at the possible insinuation, behind his words. but you try not to get ahead of yourself, emptying your mind of fanciful delusions, and simply asking, “to them?”
“to them.” he simply repeats, and then he looks away. 
your gaze lingers on the side of his face for a moment, watching the way his hair billows in the gentle breeze that flows through the maze. it’s silent now; you choose not to add onto the conversation, leaving the uncertainty of his words to be lost in the maze behind you.
maybe not to them, but to you. a hopeful, distant thought persists in the back of your mind.
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© rindreamery, 2025
note. i was supposed to post my situationship hcs or sae angst drabble but... i haven't had motivation to finish either of them. so have this draft that's been rotting here for a month 😞
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deadhands69 · 3 days ago
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Tomura Shigaraki Proposing
soft!Shigaraki x Reader
1000% tooth rotting fluff Sorry for the boring name, I wasn't sure about posting this one but figured it's Valentine's day. Hope someone else enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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Preface: Canonically, Shigaraki isn’t really the type to care much about getting married. He’s never really thought about it in relation to himself. Plus, you never showed any interest in that so he never had reason to. But. Things happen and for whatever legal reason, you find yourselves in need of a marriage certificate. 
So, it’s decided.
He doesn’t make a big deal of it at first, returning to his game quietly. He continues to think through the evening and something about it feels off. Tomura’s never been set on any particular tradition but he’s not stupid. He knows how people usually do things and he’s adaptable. Even if you are just doing it for a sheet of paper, one of you is supposed to actually ask. Right?
Abruptly, he drops the controller after a match and brings it up. He wants to propose, would you be okay with it? After some reassurance that he doesn’t have to, he tells you that, now that he’s thought through it, he wants to. When you ask what he’s planning on doing he scoffs and says that even he knows that part’s supposed to be a surprise. 
“Pick a game,” he says, tossing an N64 controller in your direction. You push the Pokemon Snap cartridge into the console, still not looking reassured by whatever Tomura would consider a surprise.
“It’ll be cute,” he comforts you, “don’t worry.”
“As cute as a pikachu?” you ask as one jumps across the screen.
“I'll try,” he says quietly while subtly smirking.
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Over the next week, Tomura is quick to rush to the door whenever a package shows up, being sure to grab them before you have a chance to look. It’s a bit odd, but not completely abnormal. He did the same thing a few months ago when he was excited for a special edition action figure he ordered so you don’t think much of it.
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Your sleeping schedule has been fucked since you started spending time with Tomura so you’re never entirely sure what time it is when you wake up. Based on the light peeking through the blinds, you’d guess early afternoon. Typically, he’ll sleep later than you so it comes as quite the surprise when you roll over and throw your arm around an empty blanket.
Almost empty. 
A pokeball shaped envelope filled to the brim lays on his pillow. When you open it, you find a stack of energy cards and a small note in Tomura’s messy handwriting:
they’re in order, you know where to find them.
❤︎ Tomura
ps: you can always see the next one from where you’re standing 
A fire card lays on the top of the deck. You sit up, trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes as you glance around the space trying to figure out what he means. Something glints from the corner, above the heater. Pressing out of bed, you walk across the room to find a charmander card. Cute.
The next energy card is water. You search your room again to no avail. Standing in the same spot you found the charmander, you realize can see the bathroom through the cracked door. There’s a gyarados card in the shower. 
This continues for a while as you pull cards from the envelope.
Rayquaza on top of a mountain painting.
Joltik by a lamp.
Bulbasaur in a houseplant.
Leafeon in another houseplant.
Articuno stuck to the freezer by a magnet.
Squirtle in the kitchen sink.
Finally, you find a cute pair of pikachu house slippers hidden in the cords behind the tv. You put them on, pulling out a dark card next.
In the kitchen, you see a post-it stuck to the cabinet. 
Night ❨
When you open the door, an umbreon plushie falls out. With the prizes getting bigger, you must be getting close to the end. Looking back in the envelope, there’s only one card left: you pull out a lone purple psychic energy.
“Hmmm,” you mumble to yourself while trying to think of where else you could find a pokemon in your one bedroom apartment. You look out the window to the park across from your building as you think. 
Then it hits you.
The next one isn't in the apartment.
You have to go to the (tall) grass outside. Swapping your cute new slippers for some sneakers, you throw on a jacket and make the trek to the park. It’s freezing but you barely notice the chill in the excitement as you rush across the street. 
Turning onto the path into the park, you begin looking for…you aren’t sure yet, but you’ll know it when you find it. 
After a short walk through the trees, the faux forested area opens up into a grassy patch still covered in frost. On a bench near the edge of the grass sits Tomura in a mimikyu onesie, strands of his white hair poking out from under the hood. It suits him. Even his red shoes with black laces match the outfit perfectly. Seeing you, he stands and walks over. You make a mental note that this is the happiest you’ve ever seen him.
“I know you wanted a pikachu, but this seemed more fitting.” 
“It is,” you giggle, running your hands over the soft fabric. “You look cute.”
He smiles bashfully. He’s practiced this at least a hundred times before today and he knows you’ll say yes, you already did. That doesn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach now that it’s actually happening.
“Uhm,” he drops to one knee. As he looks up at you, the oversized hood falls over his face. He moves it back slightly, along with his messy hair and his crimson eyes find yours. 
“[y/n].”
“Yes, Tomura?”
“Will you marry me?”
“Of course,” you exclaim, pulling him to his feet and smashing your lips into his. His cold nose presses into your cheek as he kisses you back. 
While the decision had already been made for practical purposes, you’re surprised at how excited you feel. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to make so much of an effort either. 
“Can we go home now,” he grumbles against your lips, “it’s cold out here.”
“Yeah, let’s go!” You grab his hand, tangling your pinkies together as the two of you make your way back to the path. 
As you walk the short distance back to your apartment, you think of how nice it will be to spend the rest of your life with him. Starting with this evening: cuddling your mimikyu on the couch with a hot cup of tea.
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bnha masterlist
taglist: @shigarakislaughter
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