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nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago

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you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all.

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him.

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back.

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep.

Or so he’d like to think.

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately.

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it.

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him.

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank.

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut.

You don’t make another sound for hours.

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time.

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back.

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot.

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand.

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway.

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums.

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak.

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts.

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes.

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue.

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression.

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest.

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way.

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now.

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you.

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid.

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper.

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like.

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat.

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake.

Spencer is too stunned to follow you.

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous.

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction.

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal.

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive.

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that.

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief.

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent.

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out.

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow.

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away.

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door.

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom.

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins.

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed.

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back.

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist.

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion.

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t.

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with.

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt.

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question borne of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide.

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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kaijutegu · 10 months ago

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Aug ABSOLUTELY deserves the praise, @ryukikit. St. Augustine Alligator Farm is one of my favorite animal facilities, hands down. It's a pretty zoo, doable in an afternoon if you kinda like crocodilians, or an all day affair if you REALLY like crocodilians. Here are my favorite things about it and why I think it's worth supporting.

1. They keep animals in interesting social groups.

Crocodilians are heavily involved parents, but most places that breed them don't have the enclosure space to let the babies stay with the parents. St. Augustine does. One of my favorite groups was their crèche of slender-snouted crocodiles. They had the parents and then a yearling cohort and a new hatchling cohort. This aligns with how these guys live in the wild- the babies stick around longer! They have the space for it, and they are very in tune with the social needs of their animals.

Very, very few zoos can keep their baby crocs with the adults and still perform maintenance and animal health checks safely. This doesn't mean these facilities are bad- it just means that they have different management practices. And frankly, a lot of these species aren't frequently bred elsewhere. Your average zoo doesn't need a setup where you can have a multiyear crèche for slender-snouted crocodiles. Some species have better success when the young are pulled early, and some zoos are better set up to raise out any offspring separately or behind the scenes. Every facility's practices are different, and this just happens to work well at St. Augustine and be really enjoyable to see as a zoo patron.

Crocodilians are exceptional parents and very protective. It's a sign of incredible animal management practices and animals that feel very comfortable with staff that St. Augustine can do this with nearly every species they breed.

2. They understand the social needs of their animals.

Some crocodilians are social. Some are solitary. Some can live happily with a member of the opposite sex but get territorial around members of the same sex. St. Augustine pays incredible attention to their social groupings to ensure that they aren't just meeting the animals' physical health needs but their social needs as well. They do continuous scientific research about social structures in crocodilians, taking blood samples to test stress hormones and observing stress behaviors to see how group dynamics change.

For example, St. Augustine is home to one of the world's largest known living saltwater crocodiles, Maximo. And his comparatively tiny mate, Sydney. During the educational presentations with these two, they point out that even their monster of a croc needs his social group- he won't eat if she's not around and he is calmer during medical checks if he can see her. These animal share a deep and special pair bond, and they make sure to talk about how the social aspect of these animals' lives is integral to their care. It's a unique aspect of the way they talk about these animals, because he IS a spectacle and he IS a sensation, but they don't talk about him like he's a mindless killing machine- they talk about him like he's a big, complex predator with social needs like any other animal. Aug is the only facility I've been to where the emotional and social needs of crocodilians is part of the education they provide guests- and speaking of education...

3. Their demos and presentations are extremely good.

The presentations at St. Augustine are some of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen literally hundreds of animal talks on everything from aardvarks to zebras. But as you... can probably tell from my blog content, I've spent a lot of time learning about and working with reptiles. I really enjoyed all of their presentations because they are very scientific about things and avoid sensationalism. They really want you to be fascinated by these creatures and love them- but more than anything else, they want you to respect them.

Also, they do a really good job handling their ambassadors. I really enjoyed something as simple as watching an educator tell us about snakes. Throughout the whole presentation she made sure that most of the snake's body was looped in her hand. The snake was always supported and was very calm. She gave the snake plenty of head room so that it didn't feel constricted- it was just good handling all around.

But also, the presentations made it clear how much the park cares about the animals' well-being. When they do the feeding and training presentations, they make it very clear that the animals' participation is entirely voluntary. They do things differently for their 9-foot saltie and their 16-foot saltie, because the 16-footer is so large and heavy he actually struggles walking on land sometimes. They adapt their programs and his care to ensure that he's completely comfortable- and he didn't actually participate in the whole feeding when I was watching! At no point did they try to push him into anything uncomfortable; they offered, he didn't engage, and they moved on. It was a clear expression of his boundaries, and I really appreciated how much his caretakers respected that.

4. Ethical Interactions

I've been to... a lot of tourist locations in Florida that have animals you can hold. Almost always against my will! Many of them are pretty terrible, and you don't actually learn much, if anything. But I really found that to not be the case at St. Augustine. Every single animal presentation and interaction opportunity was accompanied by education about the animal's biology, habits, and- crucially- their conservation status.

When I held a baby alligator at St. Augustine, the proctors- there were two, one to ensure I was holding the gator correctly and the other to educate- were very informative about the role alligators play in their ecosystem and their conservation history. The animals were all properly banded, and one of the two proctors was there to ensure that none of the baby alligators were uncomfortable. As soon as they started getting squirmy or tense, they were removed, unbanded, and taken to an off-exhibit area to relax. And when the babies age out of petting size, they just go in the lagoon to live with others of their species. I saw one upset alligator the entire time I was there, and he was clearly upset that his escape attempt was foiled by a keeper during my nursery tour.

Even though he's restrained in this shot, you can see that his full body and tail are supported, and the grip, while firm, is gentle. He's distressed, but after I took this picture, she put him in his enclosure and he calmed down immediately.

Sometimes when you have petting attractions with baby animals, those animals... don't have a happy ending. (See: cub petting.) But St. Augustine's program is fine- the gators are all aged out of wanting to have mom around, there's no declawing/defanging, and they're handled with care. And it's worth it, because people love what they understand. St. Augustine was integral in raising public awareness about alligators back in the 60s when they were endangered, and now they're thriving- largely in part to programs like St. Augustine getting people to care.

And speaking of getting people to care, let's talk about their research.

5. Shared Research Results

St. Augustine is also home to more species of crocodilian than anywhere else in North America- all of them, usually. (They didn't have a Tomistoma when I visited- that may have changed.)

Because of this species diversity, it's an incredible research resource. Having every species means that you can do a lot of work comparing their behaviors, their growth patterns, and more. They've been a major research site for crocodilian biology since the 1970s. Today, they're one of the key sites for studying crocodilian play and social behaviors. They actually maintain a blog where they post copies of papers that were written using their animals, meaning that you can actually see the results of the research your admission helps fund. You can see that right here: https://www.alligatorfarm.com/conservation-research/research-blog/

All of this adds up to a zoo that provides a unique experience, tons of actual education, and transparency about what its research and conservation steps actually are. St. Augustine's come a long way since its opening in 1893, and they really do want you to leave with a new respect for the animals they care for. Ultimately, if you're a fan of reptiles, you can feel good about visiting the St. Augustine Alligator Farm- their care and keeping are top of the line, they do a ton of innovative conservation research and support for conservation organizations, and you can see this animal there:

(Gharial from the front. Nothing is wrong with her that's just what they look like from the front.)

#long post #st. augustine alligator farm #alligator #crocodile #reptiblr

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prongsx · 3 months ago

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who are your boyfriend?

Even though you talk a lot about your sweet boyfriend, people don't understand the sign.

Warnins: English is not my first language, there will probably be mistakes, I'm more grammatically correct in my language I swear lol, f!reader, just a silly idea I had.

You're a person who talks a lot about your boyfriend, not that it's your intention to show him off or look like you're obsessed with him (maybe a little), but still, it seems inevitable to quote Jason Todd in your social circles, especially in the work.

It's a good work environment, your colleagues are nice, and you like to be communicative. However, the new co-worker, Adam, seems to be a little too friendly, your colleagues have already noticed this, but you dont notice this, lost in your own thoughts about your boyfriend.

The thing is, Adam has concluded that your boyfriend is an idiot, he listens to you talking about him, and the only conclusion he can draw is that you're dating a stupid nerd who lives in his mother's basement. It started weeks ago when you arrived with a jar of colorful cookies, offering it to your colleagues with a silly smile and saying.

"Jaybean did, does anyone want it? It's his grandfather's recipe"

Adam laughed internally at that. It wasn't right, you were too pretty to date such a weird guy who was definitely supposed to be short, skinny and silly, what kind of man cooked colored cookies? Or even worse, let yourself be called a "jaybean"?

The next day, he overheard you talking to your friend, in a worried tone, about how your boyfriend was about having physically fought with his younger brother, which only added to the comical image Adam had of his boyfriend. Definitely the guy was a banana. What kind of guy would let his little brother hit him?

Around the football season, Adam decided to show you what a real man was and ask you out, showing you the tickets he got. He called you a doll, which you registered with a slight frown.

"um, thanks Adam, but my boyfriend doesn't like football very much. And this week we're going to an arts fair in New York."

Adam let out a stilted giggle that you didn't seem to notice, the thoughts of him again calling your boyfriend stupid. Seriously, art fair? Didn't like sports?

There were other, clearer signs of how pathetic your boyfriend was, according to Adam, like when you commented that he had sewn a blouse of yours. (you didn't say that Jaosn's talent with sewing came from the fact that he sewed his battle wounds himself). Or when you called him cute nicknames.

Adam wanted to show you what he really wanted to date a guy, a real man, who had muscuslos and knew how to beat someone to protect you.

The fuse for Adam was when he approached your desk and saw a book by Jane Austen and asked, avoiding making a face at such a syrupy book.

"Do you like classics, doll?"

You looked up from the computer where you typed, a slight smile on your lips as you stared at the book brevmenete.

"A little. My boyfriend likes it, so I promised I'd try to read it. I prefer fiction books"

Adam's face drooped, you were really dating a stupid guy, you deserved to meet a real man. He rested his hands on your desk and puffed out his chest.

"You know, doll, you can get more."

You blinked your eyes limply, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"There are men… for real."

There was an arrogant smile on Adam, which you didn't like, not at all. Your posture became tense, prepared to reject him, by hook or by crook. But a voice, hoarse and thick, woke you both from the uncomfortable exchange of looks.

"Am I getting in the way?"

Adam turned, his eyes narrowing at the sight. There was a tall guy, much taller than himself, who even in a leather jacket could see his muscles. The guy had messy black hair and scars that gave him a tough look, even his blue eyes seemed like a warning, a warning to stay away. Adam was about to ask what he was doing there when your voice came out loud and contented.

"Jaybird!"

Adam stood still, his mouth wide open as that intimidating man gave you a soft smile and squeezed your waist, a chaste kiss on the forehead. By no means was that guy stupid of your boyfriend.

"That's adam," you said, a half-annoyed expression on my face, which softened when she turned her eyes to Jason.

Jason just gave Adam a suspicious look, not bothering to spend time with him before grabbing your bag and giving you another kiss on the cheek, whispering.

"Ready to go, honey?"

You nodded, smiling. Saying goodbye with a slight nod to Adam, as you told for your sweet, gentle boyfriend about your day, whose acts were what really drew you in.

Just a silly thing I thought about while analyzing the things that betrayed me about Jason. Adam is just one of those guys who think women are attracted to things that – they – think should attract them. Jason is just a grandpa's little boy who has learned how to be a gentleman right under that rough surface.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #fluff #batfamily #dc comics #fanfic

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bluetimeombre · 9 months ago

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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.

They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.

It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.

You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.

The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.

The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.

But the next battle was worse.

It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.

It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.

You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.

But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.

One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.

Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.

It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.

Cassian.

He'd been run through.

It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'

'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.

You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'

He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.

You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'

He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'

'Do it yourself,' you groaned.

Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.

Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.

Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.

Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.

That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.

It only got worse.

Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.

It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.

And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.

Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.

'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.

You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'

'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.

'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'

And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.

You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-

An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.

You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.

'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'

You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?

'Y'n.'

You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'

'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.

'Elian, Azriel-'

'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.

'Feyre isn't strong enough.'

'She'll have to be.'

'You should take them, Elian-'

'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'

Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.

Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.

Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.

'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.

Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.

Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.

You hated your brother for a long moment.

Elain wondered over, chained but whole.

Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.

The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.

Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'

He didn't have to be told twice.

You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.

You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.

You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.

He was thinking of you when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.

His shadows whispered it.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

y/n.

And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.

You, lying in your own blood. Again.

He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.

'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'

'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'

Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'

Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.

She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.

Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'

'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.

'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.

'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?

'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.

'What?' said Rhys.

'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.

He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'

Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.

They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.

'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.

Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.

You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.

Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'

'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'

Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.

Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'

'She-She told me,'

Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.

His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.

Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'

'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.

Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'

Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.

Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.

You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.

He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.

Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.

Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.

Cassian held him back, physically.

Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.

Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'

He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'

'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'

Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'

Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'

'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'

Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'

He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'

Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'

‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'

'Of course I cared.'

'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'

‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'

'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'

Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'

Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.

And then all Azriel could feel, was you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.

Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.

There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...

That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.

The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.

The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.

You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.

Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.

'What happened?' you asked.

'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.

'Oh.'

'You're my mate.'

Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'

'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'

You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'

'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'

'It's-it's not a big deal.'

'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'

'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.

'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.

'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.

He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'

'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'

'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'

You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.

Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'

'What?'

He gulped.

You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'

He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'

'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'

Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'

You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'

He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'

'Because of the bond?'

'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'

You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'

'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'

You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?

'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.

You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.

One person in the whole world to belong to.

And he was stuck with her.

'Azriel-'

'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'

You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'

'You're everything.'

'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'

Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'

You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.

'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.

You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'

'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'

You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.

But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.

'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'

Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'

You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'

'It's not that-'

'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'

'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'

'I can't ask you to do that.'

He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'

You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.

Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'

'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'

'Mother above,' you sighed.

'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'

'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.

You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.

He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.

Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.

For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?

Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.

Your family, safe.

Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.

You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.

And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.

If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.

After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.

Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.

'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.

'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.

Rhysand.

You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'

'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'

You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'

'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.

You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.

Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'

'Well, don't give me ideas.'

His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'

You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.

The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.

Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'

You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.

'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'

'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'

'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'

'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'

He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'

You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'

'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'

You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.

'You'll always be my sister.'

You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'

'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'

The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.

'What's going on with you two?'

'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'

He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'

You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.

'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'

You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.

'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.

Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.

Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.

Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'

'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.

'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'

Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.

You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.

It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.

'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.

'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.

After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.

Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.

Hesitantly, you followed in.

It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.

And yet, strangely familiar.

'I made this place,' said Azriel.

You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'

'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'

You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.

'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'

He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.

Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'

You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.

'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.

Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.

Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'

You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'

He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'

Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.

'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'

Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.

His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.

You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'

But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Taglist: @tothestarsandwhateverend @darlingbravebelle @lil-lupa @haileycannotcometothephantom @fairywriter-oracle @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @unleashthelion @naturakaashi @aurora1115 @sirens-and-moonflowers @azriels-shadowsinger @willowpains @crazylokonugget @abysshaven @anuttellaa @wishfulwithwine @one-big-fangirl @harrystylesfan2686 @charlotteintumbleland @mellowarcadefun @starseedsamurai

#azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #rhysand #cassian #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #azriel x oc #azriel x elain #azriel x female!reader #azriel x original character #swifties

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the-tarot-witch22 · 23 days ago

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Your Next Glow Up! - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My year goal post | Giveaway

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - 3 of cups, 7 of wands, and page of cups)

Okay so the very first thing i feel and heard is celebration and wedding/engagement or just something celebratory, that's when you will get a glow up, I also feel when the glow up happens, you will be so happy and content with in your life, for some of you it could be graduation too, I also feel as much as you had like to glow up physically for you guys i see emotional glow up, physically yes, but the way you will glow up "mentally and emotionally" is just amazing, I also feel some of you could be recovering from working very hard, which has left you certainly drained and very much crushed, but i see it getting better, I feel you will get a chance to relax, and not be productive and being in your own energy, so I had say you will know so take that chance, I also feel there might be a new crush/love interest which will help you glow up, you know when you are in love you just glow naturally that type of thing, and i also see you putting effort not only in your appearance, but inner conflicts too, it won't be at all superficial but much more deeper, and it will stay with you, and i see this glow up happening in upcoming years like 2025, you might turn age of 24, 20's or in your 30's, it will be very natural, and i see lots of self pampering and giggles, which is just amazing, I also feel in this time you will recover from your trauma or past. I also see your personality being much more confident, and less anxiety which is a bonus, all i feel is you guys will be doing good, everything you have suffered it will get better~ Not only that i see academic or professional glow up, like you manifesting and getting good grades , you wanting the job and getting it, which goes with i heard celebrations.

That's all pile 1, I love that all i see and feel is growth here, couldn't be more happier for you, you deserve it~

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - 5 of cups, 2 of swords and 2 of cups)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard is when you glow up next, you would be going through something a transformation or an awakening. I feel that will be really hard on you, and you will just ask universe, or question it, like what have we done to deserve this?. I feel it won't be easy, like the timing, but the way i see it, it will be a blessing for you because the way you will be becoming your best version and glowing up, is just amazing! alright let's dive deeper, what i feel here is when you glow up next is you will be going through a breakup of friendship/relationship/ or a loss of something might be you would be leaving behind things, which will be hard for you because i sense this pile might like to stay in their comfort zone, I also feel the next glow up will come with challenges, i see you getting through them, but i see you become hot ass version of your own self, like yes I freaking know my worth I also feel. It will bring you a sense of balance in your life with some peace, you will be able to have clear thoughts, without not feeling everything is a burden. I also feel there will be a period of darkness for you which will turn into something beautiful later. I also see you making some decisions, cutting people which are not serving you, or bringing you down. Which will naturally lead to peaceful situation and you feeling better about it. I also feel you guys are just not good at decision making lmao, like you don't know you cant trust yourselves, and this is for some of you not everyone! I also feel, there will be choice you would have to make for your own mental peace, and i see you being confused, but in the end you will have to go with your gut, because only that way i see you having a beautiful future. trust yourself is really a theme here, I feel you guys might have Capricorn/ Aquarius and Gemini/Libra as your sun/ moon / rising! I also feel you will have someone a friend/partner/or your parent especially mom, to help you guide right way, and you working on their advise and them bringing out best in you! You will definitely have big glow up in your mindset and physical self~ I also feel some of you might join gym/yoga or do it at home, or get in habit of it, thought i should mention what i was getting!

Okay so pile 2, that's all i got for you~, honestly as it may seem hard at first, with time, i see t getting easier and better for you!

Pile 3:

(The cards got for you - The magician, the sun and the king of cups)

Okay so pile 3, the very first thing i feel and hear for your pile is your next glow up will be mind-blowing, like you won't be recognizing yourself anymore such growth, in every way possible. I also feel this pile might be a overthinker or a creative mind, just random messages i have been getting, anyhow let's dive deeper! I feel your next glow up will be you finding your potential, in career way, or even you might tap into your divine feminine energy, i see this pile is very feminine yet you might also be trying to balance your masculine side of yourself which is just beautiful! I also feel, you guys would be making the best of what you have like not dwelling in future anymore, or trying to live in a moment, this glow up will bring you much needed life changes, you guys can check pile 1, i feel there might be messages for you there, I also feel you guys will glow up financially like the situation will be improving, things will be much easier, the rocky situation has passed, I also feel and heard "no more challenges, if there are it will be easier for you", I also feel you will be improving the way you communicate with others~ , not only this but i see infinite happiness, and so much growth and prosperity for you, I also feel the self growth and realization will go crazy~ (in a good way) I also feel some of you guys could seem very innocent , but you aren't your guides were like add that part, they are being funny rn hehe, Okay so I also feel this group might not show their emotions very effectively so i feel it will get better too! The zodiac signs for you guys are Sagittarius/taurus/Pisces/Scorpio in big 3 or 6!

Alright! Pile 3 that's all i got for you, i love how many positive messages i got for you and you deserve that! you got this my babies~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

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simpjaes · 1 month ago

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So Sweet. ― P.JS

The one where Jay, in all of his cherry-flavored thoughts, makes you cherry flavored too. requested here, here, and here

minors dni

PAIRING ― park jongseong x afab reader

WORDCOUNT― 3.8k

CONTENT― reader is jealous over nothing, NO THIS IS NOT ANGST, mostly just smutty stuff, food play, costume party (jay is wearing cat ears hueheuehue), alcohol is involved but it’s consenting, ya’ll fuck in [redacted]’s room and leave the mess for him to clean up.

WARNING― idk, reader is possessive and jealous, kinda crazy. very me tbh. jay kinda just shoves it in even tho it’s painful for her……and keeps going………

NOTE ― happy almost halloween :D this is very short, written with haste, and probably not that good but…….jay, yknow? jay makes it good.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― big fat huge cock jay, candy-play, costumes & cat ears, reader sucks his candy like it’s his cock and he nearly combusts over it, pussy eating, cock stuffing, cream pie

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s gotta be the cat ears, you think, as you stare at your boyfriend from across the room. Everyone is a blur, but goddamn something is off tonight. Because, like, why is every fucking woman in this room staring at him like they wanna rip his clothes off?!

Or, maybe it’s that faux-freshly-fucked blushy glow across his cheeks, or the blinking out of sync that comes paired with his drunken jokes and words. The atmosphere truly is making the usual, stoic, lame-ass Jay appear as nothing but an endearing cat-man who deserves a mouth on him.

And you know, the fact that you came here with him, with matching ears and a fucking tail, should scare off all these little bitches, yet there they are? Suddenly just so interested in your man?!

Jake is the first to notice the way you stare, raising a brow in confusion.

“You guys get in a fight or something?” He asks as his own animal-themed ears flop around when he turns his head to you.

“No–” You narrow your eyes at a woman who keeps glancing at your boyfriend as you say it, paying Jake little to no mind. “Just wondering why everyone has a hard-on for my boyfriend right now.”

Jake nods, pouting his lip out and raising a brow as if to silently say “Ah, makes sense.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better–” Jake starts, glancing around the room. “I literally don’t see anyone trying to get it on with him. I think you’re making problems.”

Pause.

“Please. Look at her!” You slightly raise your voice, pointing to a woman who is absolutely not trying to get on Jay’s dick, in fact, she’s literally eyeing Heeseung like she’s about to pounce.

It’s really just the fact that she’s standing right next to Jay, and you caught her looking at him a few times, and also they had a “conversation” a few days ago. Nevermind that it was a “See ya after break!” type of conversation, or that she said it to everyone, and not specifically to Jay. It’s just that he responded alongside everyone else.

“You’re being annoying.” Jake finally starts to walk away from you, not actually annoyed but more-so amused at how jealous you’ve become solely because you’ve had a few shots.

It’s not often you drink, after all.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Gonna go kiss on your man–” Jake laughs, now rushing his way through a crowd of drinkers and glancing at you when he whispers in your boyfriend’s ear.

You watch the way Jay falls into a face of concentration trying to hear his friend, and then see his eyes flick to you.

Oh, well that’s just great. Surely Jake isn’t actually trying to hit on Jay, he’s probably over there snitching like a little asshole. Which sucks because this relationship with Jay is….it’s kinda new, you know? You don’t want to come across as the possessive type, or like– controlling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself panicking when Jay stumbles his way over to you, a newly unwrapped lollipop hanging half from his lips as he sips his drink around the candy, and only spilling it once solely because he keeps his eyes on you rather than his footing. Jake is left behind, now beside that girl that clearly wants Heeseung to bone her into the next dimension, looking uncomfortable and left out.

Good. He deserves it.

“So…” Jay says as he stands next to you, leaning back against the wall and snaking one arm behind you to grab at your waist. “Someone’s jealous?”

You fold in on yourself a little bit, feeling that grip he gives to you that forces you against his side.

“Of course not.” You mumble, sipping from your cup and still staring out into the room of people. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Jake said so.” Jay laughs now, leaning his head over to whisper under your ear. “You saying he’s lying?”

His breath sends a shiver down your spine just as the song changes to that of muffled bass, loud enough to have you wanting to cover your ears.

“Yes–” You start.

“Huh?” Jay pulls back to look at you.

“Yes, he’s lying.” You try again.

“What?”

Before you try to answer again, you feel him pull you. Around a corner, up, up, and away from the booming music one floor up. He lands you in someone’s room, fuck if you know who’s.

“Hm?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you look at him now. No one else in the room to muffle that croak in his drunken voice, those blushed cheeks, the fucking ears.

“I said, he’s lying.” You say meekly, unable to tear your eyes from the little split in his lip, reddened by the candy hanging from his mouth.

His breath smells of cherry and tequila when he leans closer, tilting his head playfully to look into your eyes, as if to check if you’re the one lying.

“Is that so?” He says, pulling the lollipop from his lips and sucking the taste down his throat, allowing that scent to waft through your nose yet again. “So you don’t mind knowing Jake’s ex tried to get my number?”

Your eyes widen before they narrow. You cross your arms and look away from him.

“Of course not.” You lie.

“And you wouldn’t care that I gave it to her?” He says now, hovering his lips near yours, eyes hooded as he plays with his words.

That makes your blood boil though, and no longer can you sit here and pretend like you wouldn’t bring out the claws and start pulling hair if it comes to it. After all, that bitch was a homewrecker! Totally broke Jake’s heart and has the audacity to come to parties when she knows he will be here? And she asked for Jay’s number?!

And he gave it to her?! Jay chuckles when he pulls back, popping the candy back into his mouth as he studies the shift in your nonchalant vibe. He stays silent though, amused, waiting for you to argue until he notices the way your eyes fall.

No longer annoyed, but hurt.

In all fairness, that silence he gave you after that had you thinking…he really gave her his number?

“Baby–” Jay soothes now, pushing the lollipop to his cheek with his tongue so he can speak as clearly as he can despite the slur in his speech from the drinks. “I’m joking.”

The relief washes over your drunken mind, feeling better but now back to being irritated. What’s with him right now? You don’t exactly want to be jealous, but the fact that he’s making damn sure that you were is kinda…like, is he into that? Does he want you to be possessive?

You’d be lying though, if you said he didn’t look hot as hell the other day pulling you closer to his side because a store clerk looked at you for a second too long. You might’ve even swooned a bit.

“You’re a dick.” You finally respond, shoving him back playfully, unable to hide the relieved smile on your lips. “Looking hot-and-bothered all night, leaving me in a random room only for me to see you talking with some girl after finding you again.”

He lends you his own laugh now, wiggling his eyebrows before popping the candy out of his mouth again. “Oh, her? The girl who Heeseung basically just finger fucked on the kitchen counter?”

You pause for a second, unsure as to why that sounds hot. Maybe just because she’s not after your man? Or maybe you like, wish you’d have seen.

“And you didn’t even take me to see?!” You go to playfully shove him again, but he stops you with his own gentle shove. Straight against the door, getting up real close to your face before whispering.

“So, you were jealous?” That slur in his speech is nowhere to be found before you taste the explosion of cherry. You’re kind of just staring at him, nodding out an admittance as his eyes fall lower, to where he’s tracing the bulbous head of that lollipop against your bottom lip. “Hot.”

“You’re going to drive me insane, you know that?” You finally say after the fourth or fifth time he’s swiped that lollipop against you, adding a translucent sheen to your already alcohol-sweet lips.

“Mhm.” He nods triumphantly, now pushing the candy past your lips and into your mouth. “Should’ve came over and let me finger fuck you on the counter next, would that have made you feel better?”

You roll your eyes playfully, ignoring the throb between your legs at his bold words. Jay isn’t typically this feisty, though you’d have totally let him do such a thing regardless of the eyes that could see. You just, like, didn’t really think he’d be willing to do something like that.

“I learn something new about you every day.” You chuckle out, noting the way he stares at your mouth and the way you suck on his lollipop.

“Got loads of secrets for you, babe–” He smirks, taking initiative now and pressing his palms down on your shoulders, as if to make you lower yourself to the floor. Which, of course you do. You sink down, feeling the wooden door behind you sturdy and strong. As you do, he reaches over, locking the door.

What you think is about to be the best head of his life turns out to be him sinking down with you, slotting himself between your legs on the floor and pinning you there with his hands against the door. His head tilts cutely, the cat ears now looking more realistic than ever.

He doesn’t look like a curious little black cat anymore, he looks like he’s hunting for prey as he looks at you.

“Look at you,” He says, more serious and without that smirk before he takes the candy back. “So, so cute.”

You’re melting against him after those words, feeling his tongue lick against your lips before you can even return to compliment. It’s sweet, red coated tongues creating a sugary mess, hums and pleasant sounds leave both of you at the flavor, only to deepen the kiss because neither of you can really get enough of it either.

You reach up in the kiss, petting the ears on his head despite knowing he can’t feel it the way a real feline would, but he reacts all the same. Totally into it, even, nearly roleplaying as he groans. Maybe he’s just amused that you did that, or maybe he’s wondering if you’ll pull at his next or something.

And in this kiss that seems to never end, he gets touchy. Pushing and pulling you to both give and take control, one hand moving from cupping your face, to gently holding your neck, up until it finds its way down down down, then up your scanty shirt.

Totally lost in it, both of you are. With you skewing his ears to scratching at the nape of his neck, to him groping, and suddenly– prodding that same lollipop that you’d forgotten about between both of your lips. He’s amused when you lick it, the dulling cherry flavor coming back into the kiss with full force between you as he pulls back, red salvia stains all around his mouth before the smirk is back.

He watches as you take it back into your mouth, his own hand pushing it in and out, watching you chase it when he tries to pull it out entirely, only to shove it back in, deeper. That’s when he groans, pinching your nipple through your shirt particularly hard due to the sheer arousal that rushes to his cock. It lends him a little throb, a dribble of pre-cum messing his pants.

That about does it for him, pulling the candy out of your mouth now despite the way you chase it pitifully. He pops it into his own temporarily so he can go straight for what he not only wants, but needs right now. You watch him, a little dazed with the way his hair matches perfectly with the color of the cat ears, now a little crooked due to your meddling.

He goes straight for it too, reaching under your skirt and practically tearing your panties off of you before he’s spreading your thighs wide and re-adjusting himself back between your legs.

You squeak a little in response, proud of the unintentional sound because it’s very in character for the whole, you know, matching cat costume thing. And he only responds with another kiss, the sucker now removed from his mouth as he offers the flavor through his own saliva.

Drinking it up is easy as you lick into his mouth, feeling the way his fingers toy with your folds, sliding up and down the slippery heat before–

“Jay–” You pull back, confused at the new feeling between your legs as you look at him.

His pupils are wide when he looks at you, mouth still slack from the kiss you were in the middle of, shoulder moving in tune with each push inside of you. He doesn’t respond, lost entirely in the moment and so fucking horny over what he’s doing to you right now.

He kisses against you again, moving his hand faster, deeper, when his lips reach your neck.

“Cherry girl.” He mumbles mindlessly, kissing down your neck and to the exposed skin on your chest that your shirt offers. “Tastes good on you.” He continues to mumble, working his way down as he kisses over your clothes up until he dips under your skirt. “In you.”

So, yeah, you’re being fucked with a well-abused lollipop and you’re not ashamed to moan about it because, holy shit.

His mouth is on you harder than it was when he was making out with you previously. Chasing the flavor, moaning for it, gripping your ass and pulling you closer against his tongue. You grip at the hard floor under you, unable to grasp anything at all through the sudden and intense jolts of pleasure.

And he doesn’t stop moaning, that sucker still being pushed in and out of you, only pulled out briefly for him to, presumably, shove it in his mouth before circling his lips around your clit with a hard suck. And he does that over and over again, like a loop of intended pleasure where he’s just fucking drowning in all of his favorite flavors.

To not be into this is insane, to not grip onto something is even crazier. You reach down, pulling your skirt up just to see the way his eyes are rolled back, totally unable to make eye contact with you as he relishes in the red-sugar flavor of your cunt. The image alone makes you roll your hips up, which leads to him moaning louder for you to do it again, and again, essentially fucking yourself both on your boyfriend’s tongue, and his candy.

In the heat of the moment, you finally find your grip in his hair, pulling it so tightly between your fingers that you know it’s hurting him, but he seems to like it. Another secret of his, you guess, as you keep doing that, pulling his hair, riding up against the pleasure he’s offering, and then– god the fucking ears.

So cute on a man doing something so filthy and messy. You can’t hold it, you just–

“Fuck, keep going–” You stutter out in time with your hips, jerking back and forth both towards and away from him. “Right there,”

Jay is beyond pleased knowing he can make you cum this way. It wasn’t exactly in the plan to fuck his girlfriend like this tonight, but he’s glad he did. Especially seeing you chase the pleasure like this. He’s quick to maintain his rhythm, pushing the lollipop in right at the perfect angle, lips and tongue vibrating against your clit in a way that forces your hips forward, unmoving, stiff and you release.

He can feel it, that sticky sweet slick dripping out of you, pulsing with each rush of pleasure. It takes everything in him not to abandon your clit and drink it all up, but he’s stronger than (barely). He’s good to you, waiting until that grip in his hair finally loosens before–

You’re pulling twice as hard at it now. Feeling the way he gives you no seconds to recover. He’s immediately pushing his face back down, licking everything that’s dripped out of you and letting it slide down his throat before finally pulling the lollipop out of you.

And he continues to lick, and lick, and lick, sucking and still fucking you with his tongue, lollipop gripped in his hand, pressing it against your thigh as if it’s forgotten about.

You try to wiggle away from him, the sensitivity too much from the image of him going feral, to the way he’s licking inside of you, to the forceful push of his nose right against your sensitive clit. And it’s so fucking crazy too, the way you’re still throbbing, the way you feel a second orgasm coming far too soon to the point you know it’ll hurt.

You grip at his hair again, accidentally unclipping one of his ears as you have to force him to come up for air. More for your sake, in all honesty, but fuuuuck, it’s hard to hold him here with the way he’s looking at you now.

Lost, confused, even a bit…insane.

“I can’t–”

He tries to push back down, tongue falling out of his mouth when you keep that grip in his hair.

“Jay, It hurts.”

“Fuck, baby,” He starts in an out of breath groan, totally forgetting about the nearly-disintegrated lollipop as it drops to the floor. “Just really, really need it right now.”

In that action, you see Jay act more desperate than he ever has, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you further down, forcing your legs open despite the sensitivity. You swear you hear him purr when he looks between your legs, witnessing a wet mess of sweetness, only to see even more the truth of his words now.

You see the truth of how badly he needs it in the way he takes that sticky hand of his and pushes it down his pants, not even unbuttoning them before aggressively palming against himself, panting out for you to give him more.

God. You think you might be in love with this guy. Too soon.

Too fucking soon.

What does it matter if you’re sensitive? Fucking look at him. He’s dying for it.

And so, you spread your legs wider, embarrassingly wiggling down to lock your legs around your sweet, black-cat of a boyfriend who can’t stop furiously jerking off.

“Take it then.” You coo out, wiggling your open cunt right in front of his lap.

He doesn’t take his time either, shoving his too-tight pants down his thighs, shifting onto his knees, and immediately stuffing his cock into that same sugary slick. He holds his breath at first before releasing an insanely broken moan at the grip of your cunt around him.

The moan nearly sounds like he’s in pain, muttering half-words that can’t articulate a damn meaning even if he tried. Totally lost in the tightness, he barely notices you wrapping your legs around his waist, suffering through the way he knows he’s big, and ignoring how usually he always takes it slow so you can adjust.

Not this time. No, you feel each pulse try to rip your hole just to accommodate the thickness he offers. And he just moans more at the way you wince, practically drooling on yourself as you clench, and squeeze, and hold onto him as if you’ll fall off the face of the earth if you were to let go.

His mind is clear enough to hold you in return though, only because he knows it’s about to hurt more before it starts feeling better for you. Unfortunately, his mind is also just foggy enough to give you the short relief of his thick cock leaving you, only to slam in again, harder.

You cry out at it, nails nearly digging straight through his shirt as you instinctively try to hold onto him through the pain. He soothes you through each pleasurable sound. Out-of-breath hums and moans right in your face when he presses his forehead to yours, each painful thrust followed with a compliment and a grunt.

“So good, baby, so–”

“You’ve taken it so many times before, fuck, just a bit more–”

“Just relax. Please, baby, I know it hurts.”

Eventually, your body does relax, accommodating his size and painful plunges into you. Up until the rhythm is natural and the slapping of where your bodies meet sounds like nothing but a pornographic mess of pleasure.

Both of you now losing it, you let Jay be the one to take it. You let him fuck freely, as hard as he wants, as loud as he wants up until you’ve had at least two more orgasms and you’re barely able to open your eyes, better yet function.

You don’t know where he got this stamina, considering most nights when you’re together it’s a one and done thing. Then again, most nights he doesn’t fuck you with halloween candy, eat it out of you, then fuck it back into you.

When he finally reaches his climax though. Oh, oh god. You think you might’ve let the word “love” slip from your slack lips upon feeling his cum inside of you, pumping out and filling you up beyond what’s normal for him.

You wonder if that little slip of words made him last longer, because goddamn did he hold you closer, and fuck did he kiss you like he never has before through the orgasm.

And when it’s all said and done, the two of you are left out of breath, a sticky mess of pink-tinted cum, salty sweat, and nearly bruised lips. You’d say it should be embarrassing to walk out of whoever’s room this is, but you actually find yourself giggling into your boyfriend’s side during the walk of shame.

Mostly because you left the room together to find an entire circle of people outside of the door, presumably listening in. Which is…yeah, they’re weirdos. Then again, the two of you didn’t really make it into the room before all of this started. You guess you’d probably listen too if someone was getting fucked against a door.

The giggling though, that comes from learning who owns the bedroom you just got candy-fucked in. His wide eyes narrowing upon witnessing who was in there is probably the funniest thing you’d seen all night.

Poor Sunghoon. You’d have cleaned up the mess if your legs were working properly.

But they’re not, so, good luck to him, you guess.

#enhypen smut #jay smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen hard hours #jay park smut

1K notes · View notes

oddinary4bts · 5 months ago

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Chasing Cars | ch 8 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: peach, curses, luxury, impostor syndrome, alcohol, jungkook's family, they are so gone for each other my dude, explicit content: hickeys, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), exhibitionism (sort of but not really), protected sex, Jungkook is a teasing hoe, marking, ass slapping, praising, clit play

☆word count: 13.5k

☆a/n: NEW YOOOORK!!! My second favourite chapter of this series bc it's just so asjgsrjgsabfgo but I'll let you guys be the judge of that haha enjoy reading <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, March 8th

The sun is high in the sky, the snow melting on the side of the road, and Jungkook’s car is eating the miles towards New York, the music you’ve been listening to since you’ve left loud yet enjoyable.

Or maybe what’s truly enjoyable is the smile on Jungkook’s face whenever you meet his gaze while you’re bolting a duet, singing over the music.

Scratch that, you’ve been enjoying yourself because you’re with Jungkook. It doesn’t matter what you’d be doing - as long as it’s with Jungkook, you know you’d have fun. Even as his car slows down almost to a halt as you near the city and face its traffic, it doesn’t deter you.

No, Jungkook’s wide grin and his hand on your thigh keeps your mind far too occupied to be able to produce anything other than serotonin, and you think you deserve it. Especially after the uncertainty of the last few weeks, you deserve this moment with Jungkook.

This moment, away from reminders of Taehyung and of how you know this relationship is bound to explode in your face one day.

You shove that thought away as Jungkook’s giggle fills the car, and you glance at him, smiling brightly.

“You’re not really going to put some Taylor Swift on,” Jungkook complains, yet it’s at odds with the amused light in his eyes.

“I sure am,” you reply, and the song Welcome to New York starts playing.

You know it by heart, and Jungkook watches you in awe as you sing. If you weren’t rational, you’d assume he’s looking at you with heart-shaped eyes, but you know better than that.

You’re just his fake girlfriend for the weekend. Nothing more.

Nothing more than the fact that you will meet his entire family, including his extended family, tomorrow. He doesn’t seem like he cares, and you’ve been trying to pretend that you don’t care either, but it is making you feel anxious.

You’ve never had a boyfriend that you’ve met the family of before. Or actually, you’ve never had a boyfriend whatsoever.

Jungkook knows his way in the city. You’re not surprised - he grew up here, and he told you he usually spends his summers back home as well to work and make enough money for the year. What you’re surprised about is that the streets down which he starts driving once you’re passed the traffic and into the city proper look expensive, exuding wealth that you could only ever wish to know.

It only increases when he parks his car in the underground parking garage of a huge skyscraper which apparently holds condos and the like.

At least that’s what he says.

“Leave your bag in the car,” Jungkook tells you as you’re about to fetch your duffel bag from the backseat.

You cock an eyebrow in question. “Aren’t we here?”

He smiles mischievously, eyes shining in the white neon light of the underground garage. “I’m taking you shopping.”

“Why?” you burst out, looking down at yourself. “Are my clothes not good enough?”

He walks around the car, pulling you away from the car door by the hand before he shuts it behind you, leaning against it.

“Trust me, peach, your clothes are perfect for me,” he says. “But I much prefer you without the clothes on.”

He winks, and you punch him in the shoulder, cheeks flaming.

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble.

“You like it.”

“I don’t.”

He smiles as you fake-glare at him, until you both start laughing. He extends a hand for you to take, and you let him engulf your small hand with his large one as he pulls you towards the elevator.

“Seriously though, I’ll get you a nice dress for tomorrow night,” Jungkook says as you reach the elevator, and he presses the call button. “Not that I don’t trust what you’ve brought,” he quickly adds before you could say anything. “More as a thank you for doing this for me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, yet you nod your head. Because who would say no to free clothes?

Certainly not you.

Jungkook pulls you behind him in the elevator when the doors slide open, and then presses on the ground floor. Once you get off, he’s quick to guide you down a hallway that looks straight out of a fancy hotel - marble floors reflecting the light of the sconces on the walls, abstract paintings at regular intervals on the wall to the left, over dark oak tables with white flowers in crystal vases.

The hallway even smells expensive, and you throw a curious glance to Jungkook.

“Where are we?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

He glances at you over his shoulder, winking at you. “Home.”

“This is what you call home?” you ask, thinking about the small apartment you grew up in on the poor side of the city you hail from.

He shrugs. “I feel more at home back in college, but yeah, I grew up here.”

“Jungkook,” you say, tugging on his hand to stop him, but he’s determined, his steps unfaltering.

You grumble under your breath, yet you follow him out into the early evening setting sun, the doors of the building golden. You don’t ask the questions that are burning in your mind - what do his parents do for a living? Why didn’t he mention he was rich?

Why does he live in that small, old apartment with you and Taehyung if he can afford so much more?

The questions spin in your head like they are a tornado of thoughts, and they only increase in speed as he pulls you to an Yves Saint Laurent store, pushing the door open as if he owns the place.

Could he…?

“Jeon Jungkook!” a middle-aged lady greets him, her face lighting up as you come into view. “We haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Hey, Mrs Smith,” Jungkook answers. “Meet my girlfriend.”

He tugs on your hand, forcing you to step out from behind him, and you blush as the lady appears. She’s tall, though you believe it might be because she’s wearing stilettos, and her skirt and blazer combo makes her look like a businesswoman.

The nametag on the blazer is a clear indication that she isn’t, though. No, she visibly works here.

“Hello,” you awkwardly say, not knowing what else to say as she looks you up and down.

“Are you here for a new wardrobe?” she asks, the question directed towards Jungkook as if what you’re wearing is the ugliest outfit anyone has ever come up with before.

You try to not take offense, yet you find yourself momentarily clenching your jaw as Jungkook replies, “No, just for a dress for Junghyun’s engagement party.”

Mrs Smith nods, and she motions towards what looks like a small scene in front of multiple mirrors. It’s the kind of thing you’ve seen before in period pieces, where the seamstresses take the ladies’ measurement. So you’re not entirely surprised when Mrs Smith pulls out a measuring tape from a hidden pocket in her blazer, and you let her do her work, your eyes on Jungkook as he watches with an amused smile on his lips.

“You could have warned me,” you say, and Mrs Smith looks up towards you, the frown on her features convincing you to shut up until she’s done.

Jungkook only laughs, saying, “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

He does. He certainly does, and though it’s pissing you off, there’s something endearing about the way he’s watching from that couch, the small smile on his lips softening his features.

You fall silent as Mrs Smith keeps working, and soon she’s sauntering off, the sound of her stilettos click-clacking slowly fading. You immediately climb off from the little scene, storming towards Jungkook.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were rich?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Does it change anything?”

“It doesn’t.” You look around, not quite believing that you’re standing in a designer store. “But then it does.”

He pouts, the expression so adorable you feel like leaning in and kissing him. It’s startling, and before you can do anything, Mrs Smith comes back with a light blue dress she wants you to try on. You follow the lady to the dressing room, and Jungkook offers you a wink as you glance at him over your shoulder.

Mrs Smith leads you into the room, and it’s way too large for just a dressing room. She leaves the dress on a hook against a wall, in front of a tall standing mirror, and you thank her as she gets out, gently shutting the door behind her.

Which leaves you alone with your thoughts, and with the fact that Jungkook wants to buy you a designer dress.

You take a look at the dress. It’s beautiful, the colour eerily similar to that of a summer sky, yet maybe somewhat a little paler. You step towards it, searching for a tag, but you can’t find any. The softness of the fabric is a clear indication that it is probably worth more than everything you own combined together, and you anxiously take off your clothes to put it on.

One look in the mirror makes you feel like a princess. Like you’re the one someone might write a story about, or sing a song to. Even though your hair is a mess and you’re not wearing any makeup, you feel more beautiful than you’ve ever felt before.

The dress hugs your curves perfectly, enhancing them in all the right places. It looks like it was tailor-made for you, and for a moment you believe you’re in love.

You really do think you’re in love when you shyly step out of the dressing room for Mrs Smith to finish zipping the dress up, and Jungkook looks up from his phone to look at you.

The smirk on his lips slowly dies down, and his gaze doesn’t move from you as you step closer. You don’t think he’s blinking, or even breathing, and you truly feel like the most beautiful woman in the world right now.

“Do you like the dress?” a female voice to your left says, but you can’t look away from Jungkook.

You’re entranced, and it seems that he is too. Like you’re the center of the universe, or maybe that’s him - it’s hard to tell.

“We’ll take it,” Jungkook says after a moment, and he gets up.

Towering over you, he tilts your head back with a finger on your chin, and you gulp as your gazes connect.

“On the family tab?” Mrs Smith asks.

“Yes.”

“How much is the dress?” you can’t help but query, turning your head towards Mrs Smith.

She regards you with an eyebrow cocked, before glancing at Jungkook. “10,350 dollars, miss.”

Your mouth falls open as she walks away, and you immediately look back towards Jungkook.

“No,” is all that you say.

He flicks your nose. “Don’t cause a scene, peach.”

“I’m not causing a scene,” you say through gritted teeth. “This dress is worth more than a year of my share of the rent.”

“And? Your point?”

You roll your eyes, folding your arms on your chest. “I’m not letting you buy this.”

“Well too bad for you, it’s already paid for.”

He winks at you again, and then plops back down on the couch, his smirk widening into a grin that makes butterflies come to life in your stomach.

It’s a feeling you don’t like, so you turn your back on him, heading back to the dressing room. With new respect for the dress, you slowly take it off, treating it reverently. Once it’s safely back on the hanger, you put your clothes back on, hands shaking a little at the enormity of what Jungkook just did.

Though, to him, it doesn’t seem like it was a lot. Indeed, when you get out of the dressing room, leaving the dress behind because you don’t dare touch it again, Jungkook springs up from the couch, offering you his hand.

And even though you feel like maybe you don’t really know anything about him, you take his hand. His fingers close around yours, gently, and he offers you a smile that makes you warm like spring days, when the world is coming back to life.

And as you walk behind him, you think maybe, maybe this weekend is a great opportunity to get to know him better. To get to know the man that hides behind the cocky behaviour, the one you’ve seen on multiple occasions already.

Though it should scare you, the thought only makes you hold onto Jungkook’s fingers a little tighter. He reciprocates, and it’s with a heart beating wildly that he waits with you for Mrs Smith to bring the dress over, safely hidden in a dress bag. Jungkook takes it for you, and then he pulls you behind him.

You’re soon swallowed by the New York city bustling crowd, though Jungkook is a lighthouse in the storm and you feel safe.

You feel safe with him, and that, more than anything, scares you.

*****

“You’re shitting me,” is all you say when Jungkook leads you into his room, once you’re back at the condominium in which he grew up.

You’d gathered enough information to know that he was rich. But you didn’t think he was rich rich - the condo he grew up in is on the two highest levels of the skyscraper, with an unparalleled view of Central Park that’s making you feel like you’re a bird soaring in the sky.

Jungkook laughs behind you as he shuts the door, dropping your duffel bag and his next to it. You’ve been carrying the dress up, treating it like the treasure that it is, and Jungkook gently takes it from your hand as he walks away, disappearing in what you can only assume is his walk-in wardrobe.

He pops back out a few seconds later, minus the dress bag, and he offers you a smile that’s even more blinding than the city view. “No, I’m not,” he says.

You chuckle, cheeks burning for a reason you don’t quite understand, and then you scan his room. It’s cold, empty, void of the quality that makes his room back at the apartment feel like his. This room is impersonal, the kind of room you’d see in interior design magazines, with the black bed covers and equally as dark walls. Light comes from behind the bed frame, yet the true beauty of the room is that of the city, and you take it in as you step closer to the floor-to-ceiling window that is the wall at the foot of the bed.

“I can’t believe it,” you murmur. “This is so beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

You slowly nod, glancing towards Jungkook. “I can’t believe you chose to live in that shitty apartment with Tae when this is what you were accustomed to.”

He shrugs, not answering anything, as he instead heads to where he left the duffel bags so that he can carry them into the walk-in. You follow him then, curious to see what the rest of his bedroom looks like.

The walk-in is empty, save for a corner that holds a couple of suits you imagine to be from different designer brands. You notice a few dress shirts over there too, but your gaze focuses on the PC setup that’s in between two walls of shelves.

Finally, something that feels like Jungkook.

You walk towards it, rolling the chair back so that you can sit in it. Jungkook drops your duffel bag on the shelf behind you, and you turn your chair so that you can face him.

“You want to play?” he asks.

“What games do you have?”

He leans towards you, and you catch a whiff of his cologne as he turns the PC on.

“Honestly I don’t remember what’s downloaded on the PC,” he truthfully replies. “Just check out my Steam account.”

And then he’s walking towards the other side of the walk-in, heading towards what you can only assume is the bathroom. You spring up from the chair, and it rolls behind you from the sudden motion as you jog to the bathroom.

You’re not surprised to see just how expensive the bathroom looks. Black tiles cover the floor, and they climb the walls of the walk-in shower next to which a wide-standing cabinet with glass doors is. A proper look at the shower shows that it’s one with multiple shower heads, and you already know the shower you’ll take later will be heavenly, clearly the best you’ll ever take in your life. Jungkook leans on the counter, folding his arm on his chest as he watches you taking everything in, your gaze wide from awe.

“You don’t even have a bath,” you comment, and Jungkook bursts out laughing.

“I never needed one. But if you want to take a bath, there’s one in the bigger bathroom on this level.”

“Isn’t it connected to like… your parents’ room or something?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Yeah, but my parents haven’t stayed here since I was five,” he reveals. “They prefer staying at hotels.”

You furrow your brow. “They have such a nice condo and they don’t even enjoy it?”

Another shrug of Jungkook tells you that he, too, doesn’t understand his parents.

“If you want, I can give you a tour of the whole place,” Jungkook suggests after a beat of silence.

Your eyes light up, and you nod forcefully. “Yes. Please, I’d love to.”

He laughs at your enthusiasm, before motioning towards the toilet. “I do have to go to the bathroom first, if you’ll excuse me.”

Cheeks burning, you mumble an apology that makes him laugh as you step out of the bathroom, and he gently closes the door behind you. Embarrassed, you make your way back to the gaming setup, and you watch the landscape picture of the welcome screen. Pressing on enter reveals that Jungkook doesn’t have a password for the computer, and a moment later his Steam library appears in front of your eyes.

Obviously he’s got every game you can imagine, and you don’t have time to go through the whole library before he’s out, ready to give you the tour. And the rest of the condo is just as impressive as Jungkook’s bedroom is, though the whole thing feels… empty. Void of life. Which, you assume it is considering his parents don’t live here most of the time, and his brother owns a city house with his fiancée.

Your favourite part ends up being the kitchen, even though you don’t cook. But who wouldn’t like the beauty of the marble counters, of the white cupboards and of the impressive glass chandelier that hangs over the long dinner table?

You end up sitting on a stool at the island, watching Jungkook as he moves through the kitchen. He finds instant noodles in the pantry, and he comes out of it with a wide grin on his lips.

“Found dinner,” he says.

You laugh. “You’ve got such a nice kitchen and all you’ll cook are some instant noodles?”

He narrows his gaze at you. “You have a problem against instant noodles?”

You snort, shrugging your shoulders. “No.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, but he drops it, focusing on making food for the two of you. It takes a few minutes, but he’s soon sitting next to you, two bowls of noodles wafting steam in front of you. It smells good, if not a bit spicy, and you grab the chopsticks he put out for you.

“Thanks for the food,” you tell him, flashing a grin to him that makes his features soften in a far too dangerous way for you.

So you look away, cheeks dusting in pink, and you start eating. Though the noodles are indeed spicy, you endure the burn, finding that you actually enjoy it a little bit. Maybe because it’s distracting you from the thought that you’re with your brother’s best friend - you ought to stop thinking about it anyway.

Here, Jungkook isn’t Taehyung’s best friend. Here, he’s just Jungkook, and you’re just you.

Saturday March 9th

You feel like an impostor.

The venue for the engagement party is luxurious, nestled on the top floors of one of the many skyscrapers of Manhattan. The people in attendance are all dressed to the nines, as if trying to impress.

Or you’re just impressed because you’ve never seen so many designer clothes in such a place before.

The floor is made of shiny marble, the ceiling high. A huge, glass chandelier hangs from it, and multiple columns are decorated with shiny golden garlands. In one corner, in front of tall windows overlooking New York City, a photobooth is set up, but you’ve remained clear of it so far.

You and Jungkook are both aware that you can’t risk having pictures of you taken. Not when they could easily be found by Taehyung, or by other people from back at college.

Like Ria, who questioned you for hours when you said you were going to spend the weekend in New York…

You know you’ll be grilled when you get home, but you push that thought aside, much like you’ve been putting all thoughts of your regular life aside. Jungkook has been making it easy - his smile and laughter, ever so constant yesterday evening, has been grounding, and though he does seem anxious right now, he’s remained by your side, making sure to put you at ease.

You haven’t met his parents or brother yet, but he’s introduced to some cousins that approached you, some of them surprisingly only speaking Korean. Jungkook bridged the gap between you and them, translating when needed, and they have now moved to the refreshment table, adorned with a pyramid of champagne glasses you’ve imagined toppling over at least fifteen times since you’ve arrived.

You really do feel like an impostor at the sight of all the easy luxury. Of the Louboutin high heels, the Louis Vuitton purses, the expensive suits and dresses everyone is wearing. The vast room smells rich, and it truly isn’t your crowd.

“Smile, peach,” Jungkook says, nudging you with his elbow.

Your gaze slides to him, and as it’s been doing since you finished getting ready earlier, your breath catches in your throat. There’s just something about the pale pants and the light blue dress shirt he’s wearing that makes him seem even more attractive than you’ve always found him. Maybe it’s the way the fabric stretches on his chest, revealing his hard-earned muscles. Or maybe it’s the vulnerability in his gaze.

He doesn’t seem more comfortable than you in this crowd.

“You smile,” you throw back at him, and he immediately does, a low laugh shaking through him.

“Do you want something to drink?”

You look down at yourself, wincing. “I’m afraid I’ll ruin the dress.”

“So you’re just going to stand still the whole evening because you’re afraid to ruin your clothes?” he teases.

You clench your jaw, rolling your eyes. “Precisely.”

“Loosen up, peach,” Jungkook insists, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes you think maybe he needs you to.

Maybe he truly does need your support at this fancy party. So you find yourself accepting to get drinks, and you’re almost done with the first glass when Jungkook tenses next to you, freezing like a deer in headlights.

His doe eyes are on the doors, and you look in the direction to see an older woman and man walking in, the woman’s hand on her husband’s arm. You see a little bit of Jungkook in them - the woman’s eyes are Jungkook’s, and the man has the same nose and lips - so you immediately know that they are Jungkook’s parents.

The woman scans the room, and her eyes stop on you. In the distance it’s hard to tell if she looks happy to see her son - she barely even reacts, though she tugs her husband in your direction. You glance to Jungkook, but he really does seem frozen.

“Are you okay?” you ask, resting a hand on his arm.

He startles, toying with his piercings with his tongue before nodding curtly. “All good.”

You look towards his parents, and they’ve already crossed half of the room.

“Is that…” you trail off, knowing how rhetorical the question is.

“Yep.”

“What should I do?” you ask, tugging on his arm.

His eyes snap to you, and they’re void of the warmth you usually recognize in them. They’re like chips of ice - empty, cold, and something aches in your chest.

“Just be yourself.”

You offer him a small smile. His gaze is quick to drop to it, and you see the moment it warms. You see the moment he realizes he’s not alone, not right now, even though this is all but a subterfuge.

You’re not his girlfriend, but you’ll sure as hell try to be the best friend you can be for him right now.

“Jungkook,” his mother says as she stops in front of you, and your gaze slides to her.

She looks regal, standing ramrod straight with a steely look on her face. She spares you a quick glance, cocking an eyebrow before resuming her attention on Jungkook.

“Mother,” Jungkook replies in the same cold, formal tone.

“Glad to see you came around and decided to come.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “I wanted to introduce Y/n to the family.”

Heart beating out of your chest, you look up to Jungkook, observing the firm set of his jaw. He seems determined, like a man going into battle, and you wonder if that is what it is.

If Jungkook brought you here to rile his family up.

His mother finally truly takes you in, her eyes skimming over you. “I don’t think we know each other,” she says, and there is so much contempt in her voice you furrow your brow.

“I don’t think so,” you answer, trying to sound as polite as you possibly can. You bow your head, meeting her gaze when you straighten. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jungkook’s father pats his wife’s hand. She lets him go, almost reluctantly, and he walks away, heading to a group of men that seem far too happy to see him.

You wonder if you should take offence to him walking away when you just tried to introduce yourself, though the way Jungkook is staring at his mother lets you know that the true opponent of this battle is the woman in front of you, and not the man that just left.

“Likewise,” she replies, and this time she doesn’t hide the contempt from her voice at all. It drips to her features, and she scrunches up her nose in disgust, looking down at the high heels you’re wearing.

A simple pair of high heels you’ve bought for your high school prom, that you’ve been reusing whenever you have the occasion.

“Nice shoes,” Jungkook’s mother says, and you can tell that she means it as an insult.

You clench your jaw, cocking an eyebrow as you get ready to reply, but Jungkook intervenes with a stern, “Mother.”

“You thought dressing her up in a nice dress would make us forget that she’s not from our class?”

The insult is stark, and you widen your gaze as your heart rate spikes, your blood heating up in your veins.

“Excuse me?” you let out, unable to resist.

Jungkook’s mother meets your gaze. “At least she’s got a tongue on her.”

“And I’ll ask you to make a fucking effort for once,” Jungkook spits.

She frowns. “Do not curse, boy. It doesn’t suit you.”

He laughs, a short, dry sound that makes the hair dress on your arms. She clenches her jaw, a muscle feathering under the skin, and you wonder where Jungkook learned to be warm. Where he learned to smile like he’s lighter than a feather, like he’s never known any atrocities. Because standing here, you realize just how cold his upbringing must have been like.

And it’s strange. The little boy in the picture on his bedside table was all smiles, eyes crinkling with joy. You’d assumed the picture had been taken by his parents, but now that you’ve met his mother, you highly doubt she’s ever been the source of a smile on Jungkook’s lips.

While you’ve been thinking, Jungkook and his mother were stuck in a staring contest, a battle of will that Jungkook wins. Indeed, his mother sighs deeply and then turns towards you again.

“Where do you come from?” she asks.

You gulp under the scrutiny of her gaze, yet give her the answer.

“What do your parents do for a living?”

You tense, for that is an answer that even Jungkook doesn’t know.

“My mother is a nurse,” you reply. You feel Jungkook’s curious gaze on your profile, but you resist glancing at him. “And I do not know my father.”

Jungkook’s mother blinks once, and then she focuses on her son. “Junghyun will be happy you came.”

She leaves without saying another word, and you’re left staring at her retreating form, wondering if it’s just you or if she’s the rudest person you’ve ever met.

“I apologize for this,” Jungkook says, and his arm drops from your shoulder.

You immediately miss it.

“I think I’m starting to get why you wanted me to come with you,” you say, and you finally meet his gaze.

He’s slightly pouting, lips barely jutting out, yet there’s something endearing about the expression on his features. “I honestly didn’t think she would be flat-out rude like that.” He downs what’s left of the champagne in his flute and then puts it down on the tray of a server as she walks past. “I promise we can go home as soon as Junghyun shows up and sees that I came.”

“We can stay longer too,” you reassure him. “I can handle the aristocracy.”

The frown on his features melts, and he lets out a small laugh. “The aristocracy?”

You nod. “Yeah. Because obviously we aren’t from the same class.”

“Fuck, peach,” he grumbles, shaking his head, yet there’s an amused sparkle in his gaze that makes you feel warm all of a sudden.

It’s like you forget all about his mother, and about his avoidant father. It soon becomes clear that he is avoiding Jungkook, not you, and you feel bad for the man beside you.

He deserves a family that treats him better than the one he has, or so you believe. And it’s not like you know them at all - the dynamic is just off, and it’s unlike what you’ve personally known growing up.

If you forget about the fact that you don’t have a father and that your mother worked so much while you were growing up that you barely saw her.

Junghyun and his fiancée show up an hour later, fashionably late. You and Jungkook have been drinking more, and you feel buzzed from the alcohol, warmth swimming through your body. It’s only amplified every time you meet Jungkook’s gaze, every time he tugs you a little closer, and you think you’ll be drunk by the end of the evening, just because of him.

He’s inebriating after all.

Junghyun notices his brother across the space, and unlike his parents, his face breaks into a large grin, one that resembles that of Jungkook, and he immediately makes his way towards you. He’s much more relaxed than his parents, with an easy going vibe to him, and the way Jungkook relaxes makes you think that Junghyun, contrary to his parents, is not an asshole.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Junghyun says as he stops in front of you, immediately pulling Jungkook into a tight embrace.

Jungkook beams under the attention of his older brother. “I thought it’d be a good surprise.”

“It sure is,” Junghyun agrees as he pulls away. His eyes slide to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that he easily reciprocates. “And you are?”

“My girlfriend,” Jungkook says before you have time to say your name. “From college.”

Junghyun nods, meeting your gaze again. “Nice to meet you.”

You echo the sentiment as his fiancée - Nara - stops next to Junghyun, politely greeting Jungkook.

You end up speaking with the pair for a little while. They both are a lot more welcoming than Jungkook’s parents, and Jungkook seems to be vibrating with happiness by the time they have to move away, needing to greet the other guests in the room. Meanwhile the sun has set outside, and you take a moment to admire the view as Jungkook goes to grab a refill for you both.

“I must admit he has a lot of nerves to bring you here,” a voice says next to you, and you turn to notice his mother, her arms folded on her chest.

Though your heart skips a painful, anxious beat in your chest, you only face the world outside again. “And why is that?”

She scoffs. “He’s technically engaged to someone.”

The world stops turning, and you glance at his mother. She sports a small, wicked smile, like she knows Jungkook didn’t tell you.

“What do you mean?” you can’t help but ask, your hands turning clammy.

She shrugs. “His father and I have discussed it with another family. We’ve deemed it better if they marry.”

“Does he even know her?” you spit.

She chuckles condescendingly. “Look at you. You really think you fit in our world? Your mother clearly hasn’t raised you for it.”

You fully face Jungkook’s mother, nails digging in your palms as you clench your fists. “I’ll have you know that my mother raised me well, and raised me to know privilege where it is. Just because you happened to be born rich doesn’t make you any better.”

Her gaze widens, and you see Jungkook walking back towards you, two glasses of champagne in hands. He notices his mother, a muscle feathering under the skin of his jaw, and you don’t care to stay next to her before you start heading his way.

You meet in the middle of the room, and you wonder if your vision has grown blurry. You only understand your eyes have filled with tears when Jungkook curses under his breath, glaring at his mother over your head.

“What did she tell you?” he asks, voice gentle.

You shrug. “Nothing,” you lie, blinking the tears away.

But she didn’t tell you nothing, did she?

“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes. “She’s…”

“It’s whatever,” you insist, interrupting him. “I just want to spend time with you.”

You just want to spend time with him because you’ve learned he’s technically engaged, if his mother wasn’t lying.

Does he even know it?

You successfully blink your tears away as Jungkook hands you a champagne glass, which you down in one long gulp.

“I’m flattered, peach,” he teases.

The champagne bubbles down your throat, and you swallow with a scrunch of your nose. When you’ve finished the glass, you hand it back to Jungkook, who takes it with one eyebrow cocked. He looks like he wants to say something, but then his brother starts to speak with a mic. The room ushers to silence, forcing everyone to listen to the speech. Jungkook’s frowning, eyes still on you, but after a few seconds he turns to look at his brother.

You wish you’d be able to listen to the speech, to focus on it, but all you can do is keep on blinking back the tears from snapping at Jungkook’s mother.

Here’s to making bad first impressions.

And it’s not like it truly matters - you’re not even Jungkook’s real girlfriend. You’re just a friend, someone he brought along as a shield from his family.

Or so you’re starting to realize. You can’t even blame him. If your mother was remotely similar to his, you’d always make sure to go home with someone to support you.

The least you can do is be that for Jungkook.

When Junghyun finishes his speech, his fiancée moves closer to him, and they share a sweet embrace that looks a little too practiced for it to be genuine. Or it might just be you - if it had been you in their position, you’re pretty sure you would have wanted to kiss your fiancé stupid. But then again, you reckon it might be improper in this social class.

Jungkook’s mother might have a point - you really weren’t raised to know how to act around rich people.

Except Jungkook, that is, but that’s because you didn’t know he was rich before yesterday, and you doubt he cares anyway.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asks as servers start walking around with different appetizers, all of them looking far fancier than anything you’ve eaten in your life.

“Huh,” you let out as one of the servers stops next to you. “What’s this?”

“Crab cakes,” the server answers, flashing you a quick, polite smile.

You glance at Jungkook. “I’m allergic to seafood.”

He snorts, and then wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go find something that doesn’t have seafood in it.”

You end up finding small vegetarian burgers, and though they are barely bite-size, you enjoy a couple of them despite their dryness. It’s not enough to satiate your hunger, and especially not enough for Jungkook, so when he suggests going out to a restaurant nearby, you jump on the occasion to say yes.

“Then wait for me here,” Jungkook indicates, and to your surprise he kisses your forehead before slipping away, heading towards where you can see his brother and father conversing. While he speaks to them, probably explaining that you’re going to go eat somewhere else, you admire the view again. Cars zoom down in the streets below, each and every one of them carrying a different person with their own little life.

You feel small so high over the city. It’s sobering, and you feel like your mind is clearing from the buzz of the alcohol, from the remnants of the guilt you had for snapping at Jungkook’s mother.

You glance over your shoulder, eyeing Jungkook as he stands as if frozen, his brother speaking in his ear. Junghyun slides his gaze to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that the man ignores. You’d even think that his eyes harden, but it’s hard to tell in the distance. Especially as he pulls away from Jungkook, claps his shoulder once and then walks away, his father in tow.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, and you wonder what it is that Junghyun said. Because the moment Jungkook turns and you see the look on his face, you know it must have been something harsh.

Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. It’s so vulnerable, so different from his usual cocky persona that you immediately make your way towards him.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

Jungkook just blinks looking at you, his eyes shining from unshed tears. You grab his hand, squeezing once, forgetting all about his mother being an asshole to you. No, all there is right now is Jungkook, and you want to make sure he finishes this evening with a smile on his face.

He deserves it after all.

“Hey, so where’s that restaurant you mentioned?” you query, switching tactics.

Jungkook keeps looking at you for a few seconds, but he soon blinks a couple of times more, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

He pulls you behind him in the crowd, and you don’t know what look he has on his face, but people literally jump out of the way. He’s walking quickly, and you struggle to follow him, but you know he needs to leave.

You’ve seen the sorrow in his gaze, and you don’t blame him for wanting to get away. Indeed, you just want to flee in the night too, and you’re thankful the moment the elevator doors slide to a close after you’ve retrieved your coats, and you’re finally left in a quiet silence of just you and him.

Jungkook looks at you, gaze heavy, and a second later he’s on you, hands cupping your cheeks as he backs you into the wall. You startle, yet you’re quick to melt in his touch, to kiss him back with the same intensity he offers you.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you let him in, moaning softly as he drives his knee between your legs.

You didn’t expect him to kiss you. Especially not when nothing happened last night, some sort of awkwardness lingering in the air from being in his childhood room. But he kisses you languidly, all tongue and lips, his piercings pressing indents in your lower lip, and warmth pools at your core as the elevator goes down and down.

Anyone could walk in and catch you kissing, yet it doesn’t deter Jungkook, and neither does it deter you. Indeed, it only spurs you more, and your hands drop to his waist so that you can pull him closer.

The moment ends when the door slides open to reveal the ground floor, and Jungkook steps away from you, eyes dark with lust and shadows you don’t want to interpret. He smooths his shirt, offers you a tight-lipped smile that makes your heart clench in your chest, and then he’s walking out.

You’re quick to follow him, cheeks burning as someone at the reception eyes the two of you. You ignore them, hoping they can’t see how your lips are swollen from the kiss, and you all but have to jog to catch up with Jungkook by the time he reaches the doors.

He holds it open for you, yet you can’t meet his gaze as you step outside. Not when the engagement party was such a shitshow, not after he kissed you like that only to leave without saying anything.

The bustle of the New York City life engulfs you as you step out on the street, Jungkook in tow. To your surprise, his large hands close around yours, and you glance up to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry about…” he trails off, motioning over his shoulder.

You purse your lips. “About kissing me?”

The shadows partially lift in his gaze, warmth replacing them. “I’m not sorry about that at all,” he teases. “But I meant, about my family.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand. “I’m happy I could be there with you.”

He remains silent for a few seconds of you holding each other’s gaze on the sidewalk, and then he cracks a smile, though it doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. “What would I do without you, mmh?”

You laugh, and it sounds truer than it feels. “What would you do indeed?” you tease.

He chuckles, pulling you closer so that he can hug you. You wonder who needs it the most - him, or you? Because the second his arms wrap around you, you snake yours around his waist, hiding your face in his chest. He smells good - like Dior Sauvage, you think - and for a moment you just want to stay right here, in his arms.

Until his stomach grumbles, a low rumble against your cheek that makes you burst out laughing.

“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, looking up at him.

He meets your gaze, nodding once. “Peach, I’m fucking starving.”

That makes you laugh even more, lifting the heaviness of the atmosphere somehow, and it’s with a smile tickling your lips that you make your way to the restaurant - a kebab place on the first floor of another skyscraper. You eat your fill, laughing around with Jungkook, doing your best to keep the shadows out of his gaze.

But they never fully lift, and you’re not close enough to him to ask what his brother told him that upset him so much.

Mostly, you’re not close enough to ask him if he’s truly supposed to marry someone, or if his mother just said that to scare you off. It’s like walking a tightrope, and you’re one wrong move from falling to your death.

Yesterday, you would have said that Jungkook would catch you but today, the haunted look that creeps up on his gaze once in a while makes you think that perhaps he wouldn’t catch you at all. And though it saddens you, you don’t say anything.

You’ll have a better occasion later.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as Jungkook loosely holds your hand after the restaurant, while you walk around aimlessly. He’s telling you stories about growing up, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he occasionally falls eerily silent, you’d think that he’s happy right now. He looks the part, beaming at you whenever your gazes connect, and it’s too easy to reciprocate.

You think it’s a good thing - you’re comfortable with Jungkook, even if the whole engagement party was weird. It only gets better when you near a club, and Jungkook stops with a mischievous look in his eyes that finally looks a lot more like the Jungkook that you know from college.

“Do you want to go clubbing?” he says.

You snort. “It’s not even nine pm.”

“And?” he presses.

“You want to go clubbing this early?”

He shrugs, grabbing your hand again to pull you towards the doorman. “We can sit and chat before the party starts.”

As a matter of fact, the party is already started inside the club. Indeed, it’s like you step in an alternate universe the moment you walk in, the crowd thick as they sway to the beat. You only understand that it’s a concert of some famous DJ when you’re stopped at the coat check because you don’t have any tickets.

To your luck, the girl informs you that there are a few tickets left, and you insist on paying since Jungkook bought you the overpriced dress you’re wearing.

The one you’ll likely ruin while partying.

The thought sobers you a little, up until Jungkook, buzzing with excitement, pulls you towards the bar after you’ve left your coats at the coat check.

“This is going to be fun,” he says over the loud music.

You nod, though your mind is lingering somewhere back at the engagement party. “Are you okay?” you can’t help but ask.

Jungkook falls serious, clenching his jaw once. “It’s about my family, isn’t it?”

“Yes and no,” you say, worrying at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Tonight has been… weird.”

It’s unfortunately your turn to order, as the barman stops in front of you, and Jungkook quickly orders two gin and tonic for you both before resuming his attention on you.

“I know,” he agrees. “Family events are always weird around here.” He winces, shrugging his shoulders. “And if you want to speak about it, we can tomorrow. But right now I really just want to have a nice evening with you.”

He looks hopeful, lips jutting out in the trace of a pout, and his doe eyes hold so much softness you find yourself folding immediately.

He’s right - you want to have a nice evening with him too, and forget the shitshow that the engagement party was.

“Well then,” you say, offering him a corner smile that hints at mischief. “I hope you’re ready to party.”

He brightens, like the stars shining when there’s no light pollution. “Damn right, peach.”

The barman puts your drinks on the bar, and Jungkook hands you your glass. You grab the lime on the rim of the glass, squeezing it in the drink properly before dropping it amongst the ice cubes. Jungkook watches you, mirroring you after a few seconds.

“To partying,” you say, raising your glass.

Jungkook echoes, clinking his glass with yours and you both drink, the alcohol fresh and cold on your tongue.

You linger by the bar long enough to finish your first drinks, talking about everything and nothing. By the time you’re taking your last sip, Jungkook is reminiscing about a party last semester, where Taehyung had tried hitting on a girl only to get rejected.

“He complained about it for weeks,” you remember. “Even though he was sleeping with…” You frown, unable to remember the girl’s name. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

Jungkook laughs. “Tae fucks around too much to remember everyone, I know.”

“As if you’re any better,” you tease, pushing him playfully.

He pouts, eyebrows bunching together as his doe eyes narrow. “I’m better now.”

“Are you?”

He moves closer to you, and your heart trips on itself in your chest as he rests his large hand on your waist, pulling you closer. “I definitely am.”

You don’t know who makes the move first. You just know that a second later, you’re cupping Jungkook’s cheeks, and his lips are on yours again. This time, he tastes of gin and lime, and a swipe of his tongue on your lower lip makes you sigh, your hands sliding to the back of his head to get lost in his soft hair. His hand rests flat on your back, as if to keep you from stepping away.

Like you would.

You don’t ever want to step away from Jungkook. Tonight, you think it doesn’t matter that he’s Taehyung’s best friend. It doesn’t matter that he is supposedly engaged to someone else. Right now, it feels like he’s yours - you’re foolish enough to believe that he is.

“Let’s dance,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours.

“Let’s grab something else to drink first.”

You grab Jungkook’s hand, pulling him closer to the bar again. He follows, his thumb soothingly rubbing circles on the back of your hand, and he doesn’t let go when you lean against the bar, attracting the barman’s attention.

“Are you up for some Jager bombs?” you suggest.

He smirks, looking downright devilish with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I’d never say no to Jager Bombs.”

That’s how you find yourself downing two shots each, and you’re getting pretty tipsy by the time the show starts, and Jungkook pulls you onto the dancefloor. You dance and dance, the atmosphere electric, Jungkook’s laugh so contagious you think you might have caught a happy disease. Because you can’t stop smiling, you can’t stop laughing.

It’s like the engagement party never happened and frankly, it’s what you needed.

Jungkook pulls you closer in the middle of the crowd, kissing you languidly. You’re quick to kiss him back, to push your tongue in his mouth the moment his lips part to allow entry. He grunts in the kiss, in the intensity that takes on the two of you even though you’re in public.

You want him so bad. You’ve always wanted him badly, but right now it’s making your blood sing in your veins.

But the evening is young still, and so you return to dancing, your back pressed against Jungkook. You sway your hips to the beat of the music, and he guides your motions, head hanging low. He occasionally presses soft kisses on the side of your face, and your eyes flutter shut in contentment.

If you’d die right now, you think you’d die happy.

“Peach,” Jungkook whispers.

Your eyes flutter open as you glance at him. The intensity in his gaze makes you feel smaller than a speck of dust. “What?”

“Should we go home?” he asks.

You glance towards the scene, where the DJ is clearly in the middle of his set. “The show’s not over yet.”

“I know.” He nips at your jaw, and you tilt your head to the side to allow him access to your neck. He’s quick to press an open-mouthed kiss there.

You turn in his hold, finding his lips again. This kiss is hotter, like fire blazing bright, and you, too, want to head home. You want to get lost in him, in this moment of him being yours out in public like this.

“Fuck, JK,” you whisper when you pull away, breathing raggedly.

“What?”

“Kissing you like this, where anyone can see…” you trail off, glancing at the crowd.

Nobody is paying you any attention, yet you feel like you’re the center of the universe right now. Or maybe that’s Jungkook - he’s the center of your universe.

“It’s turning me on,” you finish in a breathy sentence meant just for him.

“Peach,” he says, voice low and husky. It ignites even more warmth inside of you, and you think you’re about to melt in his touch. “Then I’ll bring you here more often. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine, mmh?”

That you’re mine. You like the sound of those words in his mouth far too much, even though part of you wants to reply that you’re your own self, and don’t belong to anyone.

Perhaps you want to belong to him, and that in and of itself is a far too dangerous thought. But New York shines tonight, and you feel infinite.

You are infinite, as long as he’s by your side.

You stay for the rest of the DJ’s set, despite you both wanting to go home. Jungkook is touchy, yet respectfully so as you dance, never really touching you where you want him, but his hands lingering near every fiery spot in your body. The Uber ride home is spent in tense silence, as is the walk up to the elevators of his building.

He holds your hand through it all, refusing to let go, and you like it.

You like everything about this moment, right now. Like you’ve stepped into an alternate universe where you really are his, and you pray you’ll never have to leave.

The elevator doors slide open, and Jungkook pulls you in. You’re disappointed when you notice a middle-aged woman already riding the elevator from the underground parking lot, and Jungkook politely nods to her as he presses the button for the highest floor.

Fortunately, the woman gets off on the eighth floor, and you’re left alone with Jungkook. He’s quick to spring into action, pushing you back against the wall so that he can steal a languid kiss of tongues and lips, of getting lost in him until you fully lose touch with reality.

“Fuck,” you breathe as Jungkook leaves a trail of hot kisses from your jaw to your neck.

He sucks a hickey below your ear, and you can’t help but moan lightly as you drag your hands through his hair, leaving it dishevelled.

The doors of the elevator slide open, and Jungkook startles, taking a step back from you. One glance down reveals the proof of his attraction for you, and you really are aflame, burning from the inside out.

“I need to take a shower,” you say.

A cold, cold shower, before you combust irreparably.

“Okay,” Jungkook lets out, and he grabs your hand again to pull you to the door.

You don’t know how he does it, but he refrains from kissing you when you’re in. You’d expected him to jump on you - you practically wanted him to - but Jungkook, ever so the gentleman, only leads you inside and to his room.

You take in the city skyline, the beauty of being so high you feel like you’re flying. The city sparkles, lights shining on and on, and you glance at Jungkook.

His eyes shine with undiluted lust and another emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You just know it’s ten thousand times better than the shadows that had lingered in his gaze after the engagement party, and you want to cling to it.

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” you suggest as he helps you out of your coat.

“Want me to wash your hair?” he teases, flicking your nose.

He’s your Jungkook again, and an excited thrill goes through you.

“Yes,” you say, smirking. “Maybe if you’re nice I’ll wash your back.”

He narrows his gaze, though his lips curve upwards. “I’m always nice.” He puts your coat away in the walk-in wardrobe, emerging without his own coat, too.

“Are you?”

You let out a yelp as he bends to pick you up bridal style. “Always,” he says, pecking your cheek once as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you grumble as he carries you to the bathroom, putting you down on the counter.

“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not even a little bit sorry,” he teases, and he steals a quick kiss on your lips before stepping away from you to turn on the shower.

You watch him as he does so - he’s beautiful, with his dishevelled hair and big doe eyes he casts on you as he glances over his shoulder. He’s still smiling, his features so soft you can’t help but smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“How hot do you want the shower to be?” he asks.

You smirk. “What kind of hot are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes, though his light laugh fills the air. “Water temperature, dummy.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Just put it how you like it.”

He nods, and he does so, adjusting the settings until the multiple shower heads are on, and steam soon starts to waft out of the shower.

Jungkook walks back to you, toying with his piercings. You scan his features, lingering on his eyebrow piercing, and then spread your thighs so that he can step between your legs. He does so, wrapping his arms around your middle, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

He picks you up, putting you down on the floor. “Gotta get you out of your dress, mmh?”

Your heart once again hitches in your chest, and goosebumps rise on your arms as Jungkook lightly brushes his fingers up your skin.

“Turn around, peach,” he tells you.

You obey, and you watch yourself in the mirror as Jungkook unzips your dress. There’s something so intimate about the moment that your pulse skyrockets, butterflies making a mess of your stomach.

Jungkook finishes unzipping the dress, and he pushes it off your shoulders, pressing a kiss on the naked skin he’s revealed on the back of your shoulder. You feel apprehensive, like he hasn’t seen you naked before, and you gulp as he lets go of the dress, and it falls to the floor to pool around your ankles.

“You know,” Jungkook breathes as you shiver, the air colder than you expect. Your nipples perk on your chest, and Jungkook is quick to wrap his arms around you so that he can tease the sensitive buds with his fingers. “Every time I see you, you get more beautiful.”

“Jk…” you breathe out, cheeks burning under the intensity of his gaze.

“It’s true,” he insists. He turns you around, his eyes lost in yours. “There’s something about you…” he trails off.

He never finishes the sentence as you stand on your tiptoe, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt. Your mouths collide, and you sigh against the plump softness of him, kissing him softly, tenderly. He kisses you back just as softly, his hands holding you by the waist.

“Peach…” he sighs.

Your eyes flutter open to find him already looking at you, and you do feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when he looks at you like that.

“I think you’re supposed to undress too,” you whisper.

He chuckles softly, taking a step back from you. “Wanna help?”

You gulp again, your throat feeling dry, yet you raise trembling hands in the space between you so that you can reach for the buttons of his shirt. You focus on the task at hand, on every inch of honey skin revealed by the buttons coming undone. Jungkook’s intense gaze doesn’t leave your face as you undress him, and soon you’re pushing his shirt off him, resting your hands flat on his chest.

His heart is racing under your palms, the only indication that this is affecting him just as badly as it’s affecting you.

You meet his gaze as he takes charge of taking off his pants, and soon they’re on the floor with your dress and his shirt, and you both stand in your underwear, gazes embracing.

“I’m so going to take my time with you tonight,” he breathes, cupping your cheek. His thumb gently swipes at your skin, and you instinctively lean your head into his palm.

“Yeah?” you let out.

He tilts your head back with a finger under your chin, and then he’s kissing you again, as if to prove it to you with actions rather than words. “Definitely,” he says the second he pulls away. And then his hands go down your body, slowly, finding the hem of your panties. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, and he drops to his knees. Your eyes widen, yet he only busies himself with taking your underwear off, helping you step out of it once it’s around your ankles. He gets up again after, and he pushes his boxers down.

You’ve been avoiding looking at the obvious bulge in his underwear, but his dick stands proud and tall the second you glance down, already leaking precum.

He’s been wanting you badly, and it shows.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you breathe.

“I know,” he lets out. “I’m fucking hard for you.” He chuckles, and grabs your face to force you to meet his gaze again. “From the mess I saw in your panties, I know you’re already soaked for me too.” He pecks your lips, and then your forehead. “But shower first, right?”

You kiss again, and this time he sucks your lower lip into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth.

“Shower first,” you repeat the second you pull away.

He smirks, winking at you, and then he walks over to the shower, leaving you there with your heart beating out of your chest. You take a deep breath, trying to tame the wild beats, and soon enough you follow Jungkook, right when he steps in the shower. He holds the glass door open for you, closing it behind you once you’re in, hot water splashing you.

You face Jungkook, and he looks at you with his head tilted to the side, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he answers. “Pass me the soap?”

You nod, gulping, and you look away from him to find the soap. You grab it, handing it to Jungkook, and he gently takes it out of your hands.

“Turn around,” he tells you for the second time tonight. “I’ll wash your back.”

“Shouldn’t you start with my hair?” you ask.

He chuckles. “So bossy. Wet your hair then.”

You obey, and soon enough Jungkook is rubbing shampoo on your scalp, and your eyes flutter shut as you relax into the touch. He rinses your hair when he’s done, and then takes care of the conditioner.

“You like being pampered, don’t you?” he teases.

“Only if you’re the one pampering me,” you fire back.

He laughs, and he presses a soft kiss on your forehead again. “Then I guess I need to pamper you more.”

You’re falling. You know exactly what’s happening, and you wonder if he feels it too.

“Let me take care of you,” you say once Jungkook is done with washing your hair.

He smiles down at you, nodding once. “Okay.”

And so you wash him, cleaning his back first. You teasingly rub his ass, and Jungkook throws you a glare over his shoulder that makes you burst out laughing. Once you’re done he turns around, and you gently rub his chest, a smile still curving your lips upwards as you fall in comfortable silence.

He isn’t so hard anymore. Yet, when your hands get lower on his abdomen, his dick twitches, and he’s quick to get hard again. You cock an eyebrow, looking up at him.

“I barely touch you and this is how you react?” you tease.

He grabs your jaw, his grip firm. “And now you’ll clean my dick too, won’t you?”

You blush, nodding once as he lets go of your jaw to cup your cheek instead. You wrap a hand around the base of his dick, and then you stroke him once. His lips part, and he pulls on his piercings before looking down at himself.

“Let me…” he trails off, and you nod, stepping away from him to let him clean himself. You quickly wash yourself as he does so, cheeks burning so much you wouldn’t be surprised if you were purple.

Once you’re both cleaned, you face Jungkook again, and he offers you a soft smile. Unable to resist, you look down at his dick, reaching for him again.

“Now that you’re clean…” you let out, and you smirk. “Maybe I can actually take care of you?”

You don’t know where the courage comes from, but you’re not going to waste it. Indeed, you immediately drop to your knees, and Jungkook redirects the shower heads away from your face.

“Yeah?” he lets out. “You want to suck me?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, and then you jerk him off once, eyes moving to his dick. It’s pretty, though not as hard as he was earlier, and you tentatively swirl your tongue around his tip, before sucking on it lightly.

Jungkook curses under his breath, leaning a hand against the wall as if looking for support. “Don’t be shy,” he says.

You smirk again, and this time you drag your tongue on the side of his dick, from base to top, before wrapping your lips around him again. You hollow your cheeks as you take most of him in your mouth, and Jungkook moans softly when he hits the back of your throat.

“Shit…” he lets out.

You suck harder as you pull almost all the way off, and then you truly get to work, eyes fluttering shut as you suck him, jerking him off in time with the motions of your head. Jungkook holds your head, letting you set the rhythm you feel comfortable with, and soon you’re moaning on his dick, the vibrations making him curse.

You take him all the way in, looking up at him despite the tears blinding your gaze. He’s got his head thrown back, lips parted as he breathes heavily, chest moving rapidly. You wonder if you’d be able to make him come like this, and you suck harder, holding in the gag reflex that’s threatening to interrupt your ministrations on him.

“Peach,” he moans, and then he pulls out of your mouth.

A string of spit connects his tip to your lips, and you’re quick to lick at it, to taste the precum that’s dripping from his slit.

“That feels good?” you ask.

He nods. “Way too much,” he replies, chuckling breathlessly. “I’m going to fall in love with your mouth if you keep sucking me like that.”

You don’t need more to spur you into action, and you go back to sucking him, pouring everything you have in the action. His dick gets harder and harder in your mouth, and you know he has to be close. So you tentatively tease his balls with your free hand, and he moans as you squeeze lightly.

“Peach,” he lets out, and it sounds whiny. “Stop. I want to fuck you now.”

You pull out, offering him an innocent pout as you keep jerking him off quickly. “You don’t think you’d be able to go for round two?”

He chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “Not when I drank. And I really just want to make you feel good too.”

Only for that reason do you let him pull you up to your feet, and you reluctantly let go of his dick as he pushes you against the tile wall, mouth immediately finding yours in a ravaging kiss. You moan as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, and you go back to jerking him off, unable to keep your hands off him.

He hisses as he pulls away from the kiss, and then he glances towards his discarded pants on the floor beyond the glass door of the shower. “I have condoms in there,” he reveals, and then he meets your gaze again. “But you deserve better than to be fucked in a shower, mmh?”

You gulp, nodding once as he steals another quick kiss on your lips, and then he turns off the shower. You stand in the steam for a few seconds, holding each other’s gaze, and then Jungkook pulls you out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you.

You’re quick to dry yourself, lust and desire clouding your mind, and you don’t hesitate when Jungkook grabs your hand, pulling you towards his bedroom. The walk-in is cold as you step out of the bathroom, but you busy yourself with watching the strong muscles of his back, and the tattoos on his arm. It’s distracting enough, and soon Jungkook turns to face you again, kissing you deeply before pulling away.

“Do you want me to close the curtains?” he asks as he steps away from you, enough so that your eyes fall to his erection.

“You think people can see us?” you let out, casting a quick glance towards the tall windows, and the city beyond.

“Maybe, if they’re looking up here,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s never bothered me, but I’ve never been with anyone in this bed, so…”

Your gaze widens. “You’ve never fucked here?”

You think it’s blush creeping on his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve never brought a girl here at all.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry what?”

He winks at you, eyes going down your frame. They stop on your perked nipples, and he toys with his piercings.

“You’re the first girl who’s ever come here,” he says. “The first one I’ll fuck in this bed. And maybe I do want the city to see me fucking you. I want them to see how beautiful you are when you come.”

You’re speechless as he strolls towards you, and his mouth collides with yours, his lips moving like he’s a starved man against yours. He pushes you towards the bed, and you fall on it the second the back of your legs hit it. He looks at you, wetting his lips, and then winks.

“I’ll be right back.”

He disappears back into the walk-in, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he retrieves a condom from his wallet. He inspects the tinfoil package on the way back, making sure that the condom is safe to use, and then he rips it open, pulling the condom out.

He puts it on, rolling it down his dick as you watch with your heart beating wildly again as it knows what’s to come.

No one has ever fucked you as good as Jungkook, and you can tell he won’t disappoint tonight either. No, the intensity in his gaze can’t be mistaken, and the second he kneels between your legs you spread your thighs wide open, offering yourself on a silver platter.

“Already?” he teases, and he strokes himself slowly. “I thought you’d need a little bit of foreplay before.”

“Trust me,” you let out. “I’m already wet enough for you to rearrange my guts.”

He smirks, and he moves closer, close enough to rub his dick on your folds. “You are.” He says it like he’s surprised, but the second he starts rubbing his dick on your clit you’re gone, unable to form logical thoughts. “So you want me to fuck you? To rearrange your guts?”

“Jungkook,” is all you can reply.

He teases your folds again, pushes in just enough for his tip to part them. “Tell me what you want, peach.”

“I want you,” you say, and you don’t care how whiny you sound.

You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you into oblivion.

“Where?” he asks, and he pulls away to rub his dick on your clit again.

You clench your jaw, reaching for his dick, but Jungkook is quick to grab your hand with his free one, pinning your wrist over your head.

“Be nice, mmh?” he says in your ear, and then he straightens.

“I want you inside of me, Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” He pushes in, though he stops when just his tip is in. “Like this?”

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you grumble.

Jungkook laughs, and a second later he slams home, his dick splitting you open as he pushes almost all of himself inside of you. You moan, your eyes fluttering shut, and he barely gives you time to adjust before he grabs your waist, and he starts pounding you, setting an unforgiving pace.

His thrusts are quick and hard, and you see stars almost immediately, your walls clenching around him. It doesn’t slow him down, only makes him readjust himself until he hits a better angle, and you moan loudly as he drags against the sweetest spot inside of you.

“Jungkook,” you moan.

He bends down, slowing just long enough to lean on his elbow, and then he holds your shoulders as he jackhammers into you again, so hard his bed bangs into the wall repeatedly.

There’s no one to hear you fucking here. And he knows it - it’s like he’s keen on rearranging your guts, and you’re a whining, moaning mess as he fucks you hard. You hold onto his back, nails digging in his skin and Jungkook grunts in your ears as his pace never falters.

You know he’s got good stamina, but tonight feels different, like he’ll fuck you until the sun rises.

“Shit, peach,” Jungkook lets out, and he pulls out of you so suddenly you’re left gasping for air.

“Wh-” you start, but he flips you over, repositioning himself so that he can push inside of you again.

He doesn’t move right away, instead massaging your ass cheeks as your walls clench around his dick, begging for more. He slaps your ass, not hard enough to hurt but enough to sting, and you clutch the bed sheets, pushing your hips back into him.

“You want some control, mmh?” he asks, and he pulls back just enough to allow you more movement.

It doesn’t take you long before you take advantage of it, fucking yourself back on him, rolling your hips when he hits your cervix.

“You’re so big,” you let out on a whine. “So deep.”

“And you take me so well, peach.” He slaps your ass again, massaging the sting away. “Like your pussy was made for me.”

“It was,” you reply right away.

Jungkook thrusts once, and you rock forward on the bed from the intensity of his motion. Luckily for you, he was holding your waist, and so his dick doesn’t leave you empty.

“Good girl,” he says, so low it sounds like a growl, and then he’s back to pounding inside of you, and you’re a mess, trying to hold yourself together as you clutch the sheets.

Jungkook leans on one hand, snapping his hips into you again and again, and he wraps his free hand under you, blindly searching for your clit. The second he touches the sensitive bundle of nerves you moan loudly again, and he doesn’t need more to start rubbing figures on you, quick circles that send you into orbit so fast you barely realize your orgasm has hit you until you come down from the high, legs shaking as your vision keeps going in and out of focus.

Jungkook stops moving for a few seconds, bending down to press a feathersoft kiss on the side of your face. “You came hard,” he states.

“Holy fuck,” is all you can reply.

“One day, I want to feel you come on my dick without a condom on,” he says, and then he’s fucking you again, though this time he’s clearly chasing his own high.

Yet it feels good, far too good, and you come again - did you actually stop coming in the first place - as he rams his hips into yours. Jungkook milks it out of you, whispering filthy praises to you all along, and once he’s sure you’ve calmed down, he pulls out, flipping you on your back again.

He steals a kiss on your lips as he pushes in again, and this time he fucks you slower, deeper, lips never leaving yours. You lose trembling hands in his hair, run them along his back, and you wrap your legs around his waist for him to fuck you deeper. He doesn’t disappoint, and you take all of him in you as he pushes in, and then pulls almost all the way out.

“I’ll fall in love with your pussy,” Jungkook whispers against you.

He rests his forehead against yours, and your heart fills with far too many emotions - none you can voice.

“JK…”

“Peach,” he answers in the same tone, and then he kisses you again. The second he breaks from the kiss he straightens, going back to kneeling between your legs. “Now be nice and let me come, mmh?”

“Come for me.”

“On it.”

You don’t know when he comes. All you know is that you’re swimming in far too much bliss when he starts fucking you hard again, and you lose touch with your body. It’s like you’re floating somewhere close to the ceiling, or maybe amongst the stars up above. You’re floating, and Jungkook grunts and curses as he fucks you, his motions growing sloppier, and soon he stills deep inside of you, hands holding your waist as he releases loads and loads of cum in the condom.

You wish he’d come inside of you so you’d feel it drip out of you when he pulls out. It’s a dirty thought to have, yet you can’t help it - not when you’re literally swimming in ecstasy, feeling like you’re buzzing.

Jungkook lies down next to you, resting a hand on your stomach as you try to regain your breath. It takes you a while - long enough for him to kiss the side of your face and promise he’ll be back as he disappears in the bathroom - but you do come down from the high, the bedroom and the city beyond the windows finally coming back into focus.

It’s raining. You didn’t realize it before, but raindrops are racing each other on the window, and you get lost admiring the view as Jungkook cleans himself in the bathroom.

He comes back with a wet washcloth for you to clean yourself, and you thank him as he offers it to you. You know you have to go pee before you sleep though, so you brave the walk to the bathroom, legs feeling like jelly under you. You manage to make it to the bathroom and back, and Jungkook welcomes you back into bed with a tired smile on his lips.

“Come here,” he says, and he opens his arms for you to nestle in his embrace.

You do so, pushing one leg between his as you wrap one arm around his waist.

“Feeling okay?” Jungkook asks.

“I think I’ll need weeks to recover,” you tease, and Jungkook’s answering laugh makes you feel like you’re the luckiest girl in the universe.

“Does that mean I can’t fuck you for a few weeks?” he asks, and you hear the pout in his voice.

It makes you smile against him.

“Mmmh,” you let out. “Nah, I want you to fuck me like this again tomorrow.”

He laughs again, and his arms tighten around you. “Then we better get a good night of sleep. We need to drive back home tomorrow.”

Back home. Together. Because, even if he’s Taehyung’s best friend, which you’ve conveniently forgotten all weekend, he’s also your roommate.

You share a home, and you think there’s beauty in that thought.

You yawn, nuzzling your face in his chest. “I don’t know about you but I’ll sleep like a rock.”

“And snore?”

“I don’t snore,” you answer, frowning slightly.

Jungkook chuckles and then kisses the top of your head. “You snore a little. Not as much as me though.”

“Tell me about it,” you complain, even though his soft snores had acted like white noise yesterday, helping you fall asleep despite the unfamiliar environment.

He yawns, pulling even closer. “Peach?”

You hum in answer.

“Thank you for this weekend,” he whispers. “I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, wanting to argue.

“I’m serious,” he insists. “You’re…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, and you pull away just enough so that you can look up at his face. “I’m what?”

“You’re you,” he answers, as if that explains anything.

And when you see the softness clinging to his gaze, you think maybe it does.

Prev | Chapter 8.5 | Next

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my two precious babies gosh we need to protect them at all costs fr :') did you guys like this chapter? Let me know what you think!

#chasing cars ch 8 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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babydollmarauders · 8 months ago

Text

PHASES — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which luke is pining for the girl he knows he’s destined to be with

notes: 4.3k words. this is a new style of writing for me and i truthfully don’t know about it but it felt right for this fic.

Luke Hughes knows a lot of things.

he knows hockey. he knows history. and he knows that in this moment, drunk on cheap beer and lip locked with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, she and he are destined to be together.

but life and love are never simple. drunken hookups between best friends don’t just automatically make them a couple. and no matter how badly he wants to scream that she should be with him, he knows he has to wait it out; give her time to come to the same realization that he did two years ago.

her back digs into the armrest of the battered couch, her legs draped across Luke’s own as his fingertips grip her upper thigh. their faces are drawn together, her hands tangled beautifully in his curls, pulling him closer toward her vodka soaked lips.

“Lukey,” his name rolls off her tongue like a whispered prayer, causing a singular beat to skip in his heart.

“what do you need, doll?”

“you.”

and her singular word is the driving force that brings Luke to his feet, her hand laced with his as he leads her to his bedroom. the people in his apartment cast away from his mind, only one person occupying that space.

her.

surely, Jack can handle the party that he threw, no one would miss Luke.

and that thought is what leads them to his room, their bodies pressed together in mere minutes. the next few hours spent tangled between cotton sheets. his feverish touch making her body shake, and her soft sounds causing an intense sensation of need within him.

hot breath mingles, their lips rarely straying from each others. sweat coated skin sticking together as they christen his bed for the umpteenth time. neither mind clear, they find solace and pleasure with her legs wrapped around his waist and his sloppy thrusts bringing them to the highest points.

and when they call it a night, Luke’s hand slamming the car door shut after she falls into the backseat of an uber, he falls back into the same spot he started the night.

waiting for fate to bring her home to him for the final time.

***

the restaurant feels suffocating, her dress itchy, causing her to wiggle uncomfortably in her chair.

her date doesn’t even seem to notice, rambling on once more about how cool it is that she works for the New Jersey Devils.

“i mean, you must get to be around the players all the time, right? how did you even get that job?” what was this one’s name? Carter? Carson? it started with a C, right?

“i went to University of Michigan. graduated a year early with a degree in sport management, and after working with the hockey team there, i was able to secure a spot working for the Devils.” she smiles, a weak timid thing that barely even reaches her cheeks, “but yeah, i do spend a lot of time around the players. kinda my job to get content of them, ya know?”

maybe-Carter chuckles, nodding his head, “so are you like, friends with any of them?”

‘oh, here we go’ she thinks.

“i went to school with Luke Hughes, he’s kind of my best friend.” it was an instinct really, an involuntary reaction; for a smile to creep across her lips when she talks about Luke, “but i can’t really say much about him or the guys, they’re people too and they deserve their privacy.”

“right, totally respect that,” he nods, his lips falling into a tight line, and she can’t help but notice that they aren’t as pillowy as Luke’s.

his lips don’t nearly look as comforting to kiss. and his curls; they don’t… curl the way Luke’s do. rather he has a head of tighter curls, unlike Luke’s unruly mess of loose curls and waves mingling together. his eyes aren’t the right color either, erring on the side of a blue closer to Jack’s; which makes a shiver run down her spine, discomfort settling within her.

“are you cold?” he asks, catching sight of the goosebumps that spread across her skin. he huffs a condescendingly toned laugh before continuing, “maybe you should’ve brought a jacket, restaurants run cold.”

that was where she drew the line. with his obnoxious attitude combined with his interest, which only peaked when discussing her job, y/n was surprised she lasted as long as she did.

and if the fact that he wasn’t similar enough to her best friend played a small part in her leaving? well, could she really be blamed?

after all, it was Luke’s fault.

it was Luke who made the first move his freshman year of college, both of them tipsy on drinks made by Dylan and his heavy hand with rum. it was Luke who made the sophomore girl fall for him two years ago. it was Luke who drunkenly tells her he loves her as he buries himself inside of her, knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge. and it was Luke who has her going on at least five dates a month, trying to force the Devils rookie out of her heart.

or at least, she blames it on Luke; because she couldn’t allow herself to admit that she fell in love with him of her own accord. she can’t allow herself to confess how quickly their drunken hookups turned into something more for her. and she certainly can’t dwell on the fact that she hasn’t put a stop to them. how could she? those are the only moments that she can let herself believe, even for a moment, that she could be his.

because despite how badly she wanted it, she could never be Luke’s. not in the way she wants to be. no matter how hard she tries, she can never find the words to express how much he means to her. how much she loves him.

Luke laid on the couch, the springs digging into his back uncomfortably.

“dude, we really need a new couch.” he huffs, “and why am i laying like this? i don’t think people actually lay down in therapy outside of tv shows.”

“shut up, i’m taking notes.” Luke’s eyes drift to his older brother, who occupies the space of the living room chair.

“notes on what? i haven’t even said anything!”

“you don’t need to. i’ve listened to you bitch and moan about y/n for two years, i’m writing what i can remember.” Jack explains, his brows furrowed in focus as his pen scribbles messily across the notepad on his lap.

“why did i let you talk me into this?” Luke rolls his eyes at his brothers antics.

“because you’re pussy-whipped and you’re playing like shit.” Jack looks up from the notepad, straightening his posture and settling his focus on Luke.

“is that a medical diagnosis?” Luke jokes, his brow raising as he chuckles.

“no, that’s brotherly criticism. you get that for free, courtesy of the nine months we each spent in mom’s womb.” Luke cringes at his brothers words, shaking his head.

“don’t talk about mom’s womb.”

“just speak, dude. what’s going on in that curly head of yours?”

Luke sighs, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. his hands fiddle with the cellphone that lays on his stomach, impatiently waiting for the text that he knows will come through.

it’s 10pm on an off day, he knows she’s got a date tonight. he also knows how her date will end; soon enough she’ll be texting him a long paragraph about how men suck and asking him to remind her why she can’t become a nun.

“well, i told you, i know she and i are meant to be together. i can feel it.” Luke starts, quickly cut off by the familiar grating voice he’s known his entire life.

“yeah, yeah, you’re a simp. move on.”

“has anyone ever told you that you’d make a horrible therapist?” Luke questions, head turning once more toward his brother.

“i can’t say anyone has, no.”

“yeah? well then, i’ll be the first.” he glares, “stick to hockey.”

“just keep talking, Lukey.”

“i think it’s getting harder to wait for her.” Luke confesses, and it feels like a small weight has been lifted off his chest; progress.

“so you wanna move on?” Jack asks, his pen scrawling along the paper again.

“no!” Luke huffs, sitting up on the couch to turn towards his brother, who quickly strikes out whatever he just wrote down, “i’m just saying that- that this whole waiting game is fucking with my head. Phil said i had to wait it out. he told me not to pressure her. practice my patience and let her come to the realization on her own.

“but, what if it goes on too long? she’s always going on dates, what if she meets someone else? what if it takes her ten years to realize what i realized like a month after we met?! what if she gets married before she realizes?”

“too many ‘what if’s’, dude. you’re hurting my brain.” Jack groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Luke, already in an emotional spiral, rolls his eyes, “what brain?”

“hey! i’m trying to help you here! don’t insult me!” Jack stands up, notepad falling to the floor and his hands drawing to his hips as he glares at the rookie defenseman.

“well you’re not much help.”

“you want my advice? either keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.”

“i’m going to bed.” Luke grumbles, pushing past the shorter man to go to his room.

“don’t forget, no morning skate tomorrow!” Jack calls out as Luke’s door clicks shut.

as Luke strips down to his boxers, his phone lights up on his bed, vibrating amongst the cotton sheets. and as he sees her name flashing on the screen, butterflies flutter in his core, making him swallow harshly in attempt to stop them.

he doesn’t even get a word out after accepting the call, her voice filtering through the speaker, “men suck.”

“oh yeah?” Luke can’t help but laugh at the repetitive cycle, “tell me more. how do we suck?”

“you just do, okay?” her tone is biting before she takes a sobering breath, “all he wanted to talk about was the team. i could practically see the walls shut down around him once i told him i couldn’t dish out the hot goss on players.”

“i’m sorry, y/n.” he’s not sorry. not even a little.

“remind me why i can’t be a nun?” her voice is distant as she takes the phone away from her ear so that she can unlock her apartment door.

“no tiktok and no sex.” Luke echoes for what feels like the hundredth time.

“right.” she kicks off her shoes, bumping the door shut behind her as her cat darts around between her legs, rubbing against her nylon tights, “you ready for the game tomorrow?”

“yeah.” no.

“good. i’m gonna go eat my weight in ice cream and scroll tiktok. goodnight, Lukey. thanks for the reminder and for listening to me rant.”

“any time. goodnight.”

as Luke lays in bed, he falls asleep with Jack’s advice echoing in his head.

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

meanwhile, y/n slumps on her sofa, a pint of ben & jerry’s in her hand as she looks down at the little ball of black fur that’s taken up residence by her feet.

“have you ever been in love, Sir Nightingale?”

the cat blinks back at her, patiently waiting for her attention. which comes in the form of her fingernails scratching lazily under his chin.

“i have.” she continues the one sided conversation, “it fucking sucks. never fall in love.”

***

the game was an absolute shit show.

Luke had taken a shoddy penalty in the first period; for delay of game, out of all things. which lead to a power play goal by the opposing team and leaving the Devils down by two.

it was only about five minutes later that Luke got an assist on a goal of Jack’s, but ultimately, the game still ended six to two, not in the Devils favor. not only did the team get yelled at for their lack of adequate effort, but Luke was singled out for at least two turned over pucks, which lead to opposing team goals.

and to make a bad night even worse, when all was said and done and Luke was finally showered and ready to just go home and wallow in the loss, he left the locker room to find y/n chatting with one of the equipment managers, Ben.

her hair twirled around her finger as she laughed at something Ben said, a red flush on her cheeks. Luke felt deflated, to say the least.

it was always someone else.

never him. never Luke.

he felt overlooked, and perhaps even unnoticed. it was like she never even saw him as an option, only ever the object of her desires when they were both tipsy and horny and already together.

and yet the feeling was still there. settled low within his gut, he still knew; he’s the one for her. he knows. he’s fairly certain that deep down, she knows it too.

is it his age? it’s only a year’s difference, surely it doesn’t matter, right? it was something else. it had to be, but he truly didn’t know what.

“y/n.” his voice carries through the hallway, settling in her ears and catching her attention.

turning towards him with wide doe eyes and parted lips, she smiles, “hey!”

“am i still giving you a ride home?” Luke’s expression is stony, giving nothing of his feelings away. though, he can’t help the way his eyes gravitate to the man behind her, Luke’s blank stare making the man cower just slightly.

and Luke almost felt proud of that. almost.

“actually, i think Ben and i are gonna go for some drinks. i’ll catch up with you tomorrow, yeah?”

his shoulders slump, his posture crumpling the same way his heart did in his chest.

“yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Luke barely gets two steps closer to the arena exit before her voice calls out, stopping him in his tracks. her heels click against the floor as fast as she could move, before she pops up in his vision.

“you played good. a few mistakes are normal, it’s your first full season, the most games you’ve ever played,” her voice is gentle, her eyes peering up at him softly through her wispy lashes, “i’m proud of you. don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?”

her arms wrap around his torso before he can even respond, her face buried in the chest of his suit. and before his heart can reach a normal pace again, before he can wrap his arms around her in return, she’s pulling away.

with a wave of her hand and a small but awe-strikingly beautiful smile playing upon her lips, she’s walking away. back to Ben, who waits for her by the arena exit now.

and once more, Jack’s voice is back inside Luke’s head. driving him absolutely insane as he watches the love of his life walk out of the building, giggling at something another man said.

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

“tell her how you feel.” Luke wakes with a startle, his head knocking against his brother’s, who was leaning over him.

Jack curses, hissing in pain as he holds a hand his forehead.

“what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Luke groans, voice groggy as he takes in his surroundings.

“i got up to take a piss and i could hear your phone blowing up all the way from the bathroom,” Jack explains, “shit, you have a bony ass head.”

“it’s called a skull. i know yours doesn’t house anything inside of it, but even i assumed you’d know what it is.”

Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “ya know what? just for that, i take back my advice. fuck off and die alone, what do i care?”

“why were you giving me advice at-” Luke slides his phone off his nightstand, checking the time, “two in the morning?”

“she’s blowing up your phone.” Jack scowls, “something something men suck something something maybe being a nun is worth the no tiktok?”

Luke feels an odd sense of relief as he looks at his recent texts, finding exactly what Jack had described.

well, without the ‘something something’s.

“pretty sure you were saying her name in your sleep too,” Jack smirks, backing away towards the bedroom door, “tell her how you feel, dickhead. put you both out of your misery so i can get some sleep and not listen to your incessant whining.”

with that, Jack leaves, the wooden door clicking shut in its frame behind him.

reading through the texts, Luke gathers that she and Ben didn’t get very far into the night together, seeing as her messages were still legible, something drunk her could never accomplish.

the thought brings him an unnecessary amount of joy. but then he’s hit with an overwhelming sense of annoyance, remembering he’ll have to go through this process all over again soon.

truthfully, he doesn’t know how much more he can take. he’s not giving up on her, on the contrary, maybe Jack is right. maybe Phil couldn’t give advice for all women and maybe Luke should just stop waiting.

she wasn’t coming to a realization quick enough and honestly, Luke is fucking tired. tired of drunken hookups. tired of listening to her rant about failed dates and sucky guys. tired of being overlooked as an option. tired of his feelings going unnoticed.

the dial tone was ringing in his ear before Luke even realized that he had made a decision, like his hands were working on autopilot. like his heart knew what he would decide before his brain did.

“hey! did i wake you?” her words weren’t slurred, Luke noted. that’s good, she doesn’t even sound tipsy. she’s in a sound state of mind for his confession.

“no,” he shook his head, despite knowing she could see him, “well, yes but no? you didn’t wake me up but Jack did, he could hear my phone buzzing.”

“oh shit, i’m sorry! we can talk tomorrow if you wanna go back to sleep, i’m just about to-”

“i love you,” immediately, Luke is regretting this decision; the silence on the other end of the phone making him bite his lip in anxiety.

“what?” her voice cracks as she giggles, “Luke, are you drunk? did you drink before you went to bed?”

“no,” he groans out, his head dropping back in frustration, “i swear, i haven’t touched any alcohol tonight. just listen to me.”

“i’m always listening to you, Lukey.” her eyes widen as she sits on the edge of her plush bed, “i just don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“i love you,” he repeats, rolling his shoulders in attempt to psych himself back up before he takes a deep breath.

“i’m in love with you. i have been since freshman year. i think that somewhere deep down, you know just as much as i do, that you’re meant to be mine. and i’ve waited two years for you to realize it. i’ve been patient, i’ve held back, i’ve waited on the sidelines while you go out on dates and i’ve listened to you rant about men. and that’s no problem; when i’m done, if you decide you’re still not ready, i’ll continue to wait for you. because even if you’re not mine, i’m yours, y/n. but, i need to get this off my chest and i need you to know that i’m in love with you. my life isn’t complete without yours. and when you’re ready, i’ll be here waiting for you. i’ll always be here. when you’re ready for the drunk hookups to turn into sober love, i’m gonna be right here. because i think that’s our fate. i think that we were destined to find each other and i think we were meant to have this storyline in our love story, and i know that one day you’ll realize it too. you can tell me i’m insane, you can tell me you don’t feel the same, you can even tell me to fuck off, if that’s what you wanna do. i’ll back off, i won’t say another word, but i’ll still be waiting.”

y/n is silent, her hands shaking as she breathes through the tears that roll down her cheeks. in return, Luke is quiet too, patiently waiting for her to digest everything he just confessed. every built up feeling that he just let slip out of him.

“i love you too.” it feels like all the weight she’s been shouldering has been listed off of her with the utterance of those four simple words.

“you do?” he feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s just been knocked against the boards and his lungs forgot how to take in oxygen.

“yes. Luke, why do you think i go on those dates? have you not noticed that almost every guy i go out with resembles you? i didn’t know if you felt the same way, i didn’t know how to tell you how i felt without risking our entire friendship going up in flames. Luke, i’m so fucking in love with you and it hurt. for two years, i’ve reveled in our drunken moments because i thought that was all i’d ever get. i dreaded the day that you would meet someone and tell me it has to stop. i fell for you so hard and it was so scary and i just- i had to try and move on. i had to try and meet someone before ultimately, you did. because i knew that if you told me you met someone, and i was still in love with you? i would never recover from that, Luke. i wouldn’t. and now you’re saying this and i, god i feel so fucking stupidly in love with you. you don’t have to wait anymore, because i realized i love you a long time ago.”

Luke pushes out of his bed, any interest in sleep lost to him. pulling on a hoodie and an abandoned pair of sweatpants from his bedroom floor, he doesn’t even bother telling Jack that he’s leaving.

“god, i need to kiss you.” he slips on his nike slides, his fingers nimbly plucking his keys off the hook by the front door, and as quickly as he could manage, he was out of there.

“you can kiss me tomorrow, Lukey.” she smiles, finally rising from her bed to finish her nightly routine.

that is, until she hears a key turn in her front door. her eyebrows pull together as she wonders out of her room, greeted by sight of a disheveled Luke in her apartment doorway, who looks like he just ran down the stairs to get there.

hanging up the phone, she grins back at the tall boy.

“or i can kiss you now.” a playful smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he taking wide glides over to her.

his hands find her cheeks, his thumbs wiping gently over the supple, tear stained skin. the apartment is silent, their heartbeats racing as she gazes up at his beautiful eyes.

“or you can kiss me now.” she echoes, her words mumbled and low.

that’s the final straw, the confirmation Luke desperately needed, and finally, he allows his head to dip down. her lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly of mint ice cream, and warmth spreads across his body, starting at his chest and almost blossoming across his body. Luke feels at home.

her hands desperately cling to his hoodie, as though he’ll disappear if she lets go, and his slide back to cup the nape of her neck. she has no desire to pull away, but her lungs spread with fire until she’s forced apart by the need to breathe.

“i love you.” she whispers, eyes closed as she rests her forehead against his own, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she bites back a lovelorn smile.

“i love you, sweet girl.”

“please don’t go back home. spend the night?” she finally opens her eyes, her head tipping back as he straightens up.

a pink hue glows upon his cheeks, and she can’t resist letting the backs of her fingers gently graze over the heated skin.

“not going anywhere, baby. staying right here.” his lips brush against her forehead, leaving a fleeting kiss in their wake and making her heartbeat flutter within her rib cage.

it feels right, the way they go about a new bed time routine. luke’s arms wrapped around her waist as she brushes her teeth, his eyes boring into her reflection. her head on his chest as they fall asleep, his alarm on for them to wake up for morning skate, together.

and if they were holding hands when they walked into the rink, if they were a cheesy couple who kissed before he entered the locker room, if his smile was a bit too wide in the tiktok she filmed for the Devils socials, if she chose the question ‘do you believe in fate?’ solely because of him, could they really be blamed?

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fic #luke hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

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gimmick-blog-bracket · 2 months ago

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@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@making-you-in-spore

Incredible works of art from a limited medium, the blog favors quality over quantity and I am always in awe when a dancing creacher in Spore [2008] crosses my dash.

His spores often take him multiple hours to create, and he will go through astounding amounts of effort to commit to the bit. He made his cull poll in spore and then blew it up. Hes also super responsive and active and seems really eager to share his creation techniques and spread the joy of making things in spore [2008]. His blog almost singlehandedly sparked a significant resurgence in interest and playerbase of a 16 year old game that most people see as nothing but a meme. Hes just a guy who likes spore [2008]

i say vote for making you in spore because seeing them blow up their opponents after they win is hilarious

#round 6 #tumblr tournament #polls #gimmick blog

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odxrilove · 25 days ago

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☆ SEVENTEEN AND SOFT LAUNCHING

pairing: svt x f!reader

contents/warnings: scenarios, fluff? social media mentions (duh)

dori's notes: trying a new layout! >.<

back to masterlist!

꩜ .ᐟ THEY HAVE STUDIED THE OFFICIAL "URBAN DICTIONARY" MEANING...

— minghao .. he started the soft-launching trend

hao is like the epitome of a romantic caring partner, so there’s no doubt that he’s the one to initiate the soft launching. truly, he was so sure about your love that he was already teasing a romance after the second date, posting an aesthetic picture of two wine glasses, one brandishing red traces of lipstick. you’re pleasantly surprised at the sweet action and even a bit impressed when his launching stays romantic, pleasing to the eyes and keeps people on the edge all during. it’s no surprise that when the grand reveal of his partner finally comes, all reactions are heartwarming.

— joshua .. couldn’t let his gentleman-mask slip away

joshua is an all-rounder when it comes to romance and dating, and loving you– so it’s no wonder when he decides to pay for all your meals, treat you like a princess and take as many pictures of you as you want. people should have seen it coming, his stories going from skies to restaurant pics to borderline risqué and suggestive pictures of the woman in his life. in the end, the soft-launching is a success, just like your relationship with him.

— mingyu .. you think he would ever miss an opportunity to appear rich, cool and taken?

ever since he’s known about the existence of boyfriend pictures, he’s never let anyone else take his well-deserved golden trophy. but in reality, the boyfriend pictures used to give him a bitter aftertaste, since he wasn’t anyone’s boyfriend ! so now that he has you and he is a boyfriend, you can’t possibly think mingyu doesn’t take every opportunity possible to show off your growing love ? get ready to be all over his social media and his followers’ for you pages.

— seokmin .. he bought a white board on wheels to create the perfect soft-launch timeline

he’s a sweetheart through and through, and seokmin isn’t afraid to show he’s taken, even if it’s still early. he prepares everything thoroughly, wanting you to be happiest ever. he even created a timeline, which he followed very precisely, just so that nothing would go wrong ! people’s reactions to the soft-launching makes him all the more proud.

꩜ .ᐟ IS IT REALLY SOFT LAUNCHING WHEN HALF THE WORLD'S POPULATION KNOWS ALREADY...

— jun .. good opportunities, good initiative, just not enough talent

as much as jun wants to follow in minghao’s footsteps, following his advice might not be helpful enough. see, he puts effort into it, that’s for sure, but it seems like the social media world is just against him– as well as his friends. what do you mean his soft launching isn’t working, seungkwan? give the poor guy some slack, he’s trying.. that earns him a few points, at least. it’s alright if it turns out tacky or predictable, maybe you can teach him!

— seungcheol .. too giddy about you to be secretive

despite his intimidating appearance, this man is a total teddy bear, so him not being discreet enough about having someone in his life isn’t surprising. look, seungcheol tried his best, but it’s truly not his fault if a few of his friends already know about you or if the pictures he ends up posting aren’t secretive at all! in general, he doesn’t want to hide your relationship, too proud about you, so he’s not really into the "mysterious" aspects of the pictures, prefering to show you off the moment you become official.

— seungkwan .. you did it first, but he wasn’t happy with the outcome, so did it too

if nitpicking was a job, seungkwan would be the highest paid worker in the world– because tell me why this man brushes off your attempt at soft launching to then announce he’s going to do the same? when asked, he’ll say he can do better than you, but in reality, he has pictures of the two of you that he wants to show off. and apparently, so early on in the relationship, seungkwan is still a bit too shy to admit that fact, so instead he lies, overlooking the fact that everyone knows already, thanks to your own soft launching.

꩜ .ᐟ SOFT LAUNCHING? MORE LIKE HARD LAUNCHING...

— hoshi .. he’s just bad at it

listen, he’s cute and all but his cuteness can’t hide the fact he’s clueless about technology and is probably not the best person to do the soft launching. i mean, his attempt was definitely cute, but that was it, an attempt– you can’t really call a selfie of the both of you kissing an ideal soft launching pic, can you ? now, most of the time, he just reposts anything you tag him in, and you’re both happy.

— chan .. tries really hard but ends up accidentally messing it up

it’s pretty sad if you think about it actually, because he had it all planned out, all the pictures, the captions, even the songs that he would add! but then the worst happens.. an unedited soft-launching draft of you two is posted on his account, and he doesn’t realize until after everyone has already seen it. the comments pour in, and chan has to clench his teeth– no, user joshuahong95, chan didn’t mean to use "your" instead of "you’re" in his unfinished caption.

꩜ .ᐟ GUILTY! THEY LET YOU DO THE JOB..

— jeonghan .. is petty and insists you do it since he asked you out

truly, you should have seen it coming, knowing how much of a menace your boyfriend is. getting trapped into doing all the soft launching yourself was a dumb move on your part but a smart one on his. don’t take it too seriously though, it’s not that he doesn’t want to put in the effort, on the contrary, but he does really enjoy seeing you post and boast about him, all the while keeping it mysterious. in short, he indulges and basks in the attention as much as he can.

— wonwoo .. isn’t enough on social media to do it

even if wonwoo wanted to do it, he wouldn’t possibly be able to, since he isn’t active much on social media. If you had asked him to reveal your relationship to his close entourage, he probably would have just sent a captionless picture of you two in the groupchat, so you taking over the soft launching was better for everyone. when he does decide to help a bit, he’s lost in the timeline, posting dinner pics when you’re at the faceless ootd pics stage.

— vernon .. “soft launching is weird.. why do people even do it?” it’s cute vernon.

vernon’s stance on soft-launching is a problem in itself– he thinks it’s an unnecessary addition to society that it forces people to disclose private information under the pretext of a trend. you just think it’s cute. vernon thinks you’re cute so even if he finds it dumb, he lets you soft launch your relationship, because when you’re happy, you smile. and your smile makes you even cuter so he doesn’t mind sacrificing an opinion for the greater good, which, in his opinion, is you.

— woozi .. you don’t even mention it to him

woozi is without a doubt one of the more private members– he isn’t too keen on revealing too much about himself so plastering you all over his social media isn’t him. He knows you’re more active online and he doesn’t mind one bit but he wasn’t even aware you were soft launching him! he only finds out when hoshi teases him about it and he becomes confused; “what’s soft launching ?”. don’t worry, you have all the time in the world to explain what it means to him.

taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @odetoyeonjun @sensitively-taken @pockyandme @soobin-chois @lolalee24 @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @yoonzin0 @raevyng @hoeforcheol @pearlygraysky @4xiaojun @viscade @kikohao @enluv @smilehui @starshuas @instabull @atrirose @dokyeomkyeom @todorokiskitten

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

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kyokutsu-sama · 9 months ago

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Headcanons

A/n: So, I'm going o invest more content on my favorite captains of bc because they're hot , badass and deserve all world's attention. Here's some sfw/nsfw headcanons for them✨️

Tw: Nsfw content

_____________________________

Yami :

Sfw

He's super protective of you and that's something he doesn't hide. If any man messes with you (even if you are strong), that guy is officially dead.

You are the only person he allows to pick up his sword and use it on a battle. He trusts you so take good care of his katana because this man is broke and can't afford a new one.

He also likes to go out with you and take you out drinking or playing cards. If you win a bet against him, be prepared because he won't give up until he wins... or until he falls asleep from drinking. He's a terrible gambler but he refuses to accept that.

You usually train together and he likes to see you push your limits. He also likes it when you go on a mission with him so he can see this. He's proud of you and your power.

If he's having another one of his daily battles in the bathroom, you'll be the only one who can come in and give him the toilet paper he's missing because Asta forgot to change it.

(Asta run for your life)

Nsfw

I don't need to tell you that this man is rough and will surpass his limits in the sheets. Good luck to you and goodbye legs.

He loves being between your legs, devouring you and tasting everything you have to give him, probably even getting "drunk" on your juices.

He likes to see you squirm beneath him, the marks he left on you covering your skin (Yes, he really leaves a lot of marks on you), your eyes rolling and your voice calling him so well. Poor bed and poor other members who will listen to you all night

His hands will be all over your body, a lot of physical contact during the act. He loves it when you run your hands over his body too. You can even scratch his skin and bite, he doesn't feel pain. Only pleasure.

There's a lot of dirty talk.

And don't try to tease him, you don't know the risk you're running. Listen, he has no problem with that thing called public places. He puts you against a wall and does whatever he wants.

Regarding the fact that you can't walk properly, don't worry, he carries you everywhere in his strong arms.

He's just my type fr🤭

William :

Sfw

Super cute and kind to you. He is super careful with you, always giving you those sweet smiles that makes your heart melt.

He always likes to check on you to make sure there's nothing wrong or if you're 100% fine.

He's shy and whenever you hold his hand in public or kiss his cheek, his face will heat up from blushing. You just laugh at his cuteness.

He really likes hugs after a long day of work, he feels like you calm his heart and give him good energy.

He's fallen for you since the day you traced his scar with your fingers softly and told him how beautiful he still was. No one had ever done this and he was moved by this affection.

You were proud of him for who he was and not for his appearance and that made him shed little tears.

Nsfw

Do not proceed without your full consent. He wants you to feel good and comfortable.

The touch is soft and delicate, lots of tender kisses on your skin. He doesn't like to leave many marks like Yami, HOWEVER... if you leave some on him, it will cause "things" in him. (It turns him on but he's ashamed to admit it)

I see him being a sub and will let you take over things a lot of the time because he just loves it when you do.

Touch his body, kiss him, take him deep and slow as he likes. This man will have to fight with himself not to come when you ride him and look into his eyes. He goes crazy.

Very gentle with you after the act, always cleaning you and offering you everything you need.

(William, the door to my house is open... you know?🥹👉👈)

Fuegoleon :

Sfw

He is very serious in his role and always wants to have you by his side.

He loves your presence even though he is working hard, and if you help him he will thank you.

He might be a bit like William in the sense that he may be a little shy when you hold his hand or kiss him in public, although he doesn't blush like him.

He always tries to keep you protected and advises you not to talk to Mereoleona too much, he's afraid she'll make fun of him in front of you or drag you to the volcano where she trains.

This woman is dangerous, but having her as a sister-in-law is a gift tbh. She'll beat the shit out of everyone if anyone touches her brother's beautiful girlfriend.

Leo will probably love you because you love and care for his older brother. You two will be great friends.

He likes it when you run your hands gently through his hair when he is resting. This is comfortable and relaxing.

Nsfw

He's the middle ground between going fast when he's feeling excited (after you teased him all day) and going slow and sensual when he comes into the bedroom tired and just wants you to put your arms around him.

He dominates, he likes to be on top, seeing you beneath him arching when his fingers caress you or when he grabs your thighs and thrust you. He lives to see you squirming on the mattress.

He likes to praise you, whispering in your ear how beautiful you are, which gives you goosebumps.

Please run your hands down his back, he loves it and it makes him go deeper.

He hugs and kisses you a lot after he finishes. He is much more relaxed between four walls than in a public place where he hesitates a little with the PDA.

Nozel :

Sfw

Dear, be patient with him. He may be cold to the core but his eyes... they never lie. His look at you is something that many royal ladies who notice him would like to get from him.

He doesn't make long vows of love but look, he's the best with actions and no one will come close to you because he defends you a lot.

Although he and Yami don't get along, they are both overprotective lovers.

Even if you're not from a royal family or something, he won't let anyone discriminate against you for that. That person will disappear without a trace and it's all the work of Nozel fucking Silva.

Serious, but until you give him that little smile that makes him look away in embarrassment. You can see the tips of his ears turning red and you tease him for that.

He ends up smiling for a second and you feel like the luckiest person in the world to witness this event.

Nsfw

Don't underestimate this man, he is a dom and will always show you who is in control. Although I think he has a certain look that he would like you to take control.

Don't fight back, obey. He doesn't accept a no and if you're a brat to him, he'll punish you for it.

If he's having a bad day, he'll probably come to the bedroom to have you in his sheets and relieve himself. Goodbye legs once again...

He will also mark you, he is the only one who can have you and the marks made for him only turns him on.

Not only in the bedroom does he like to see you squirming and calling for him, but also on the office table while he takes a break from work. I don't see him being shy if someone came in but he would probably threaten anyone if they even thought about telling what they saw.

He makes sure you're okay afterwards and will put you in his arms, kissing the top of your head.

#black clover #black clover x reader #black clover fandom #yami sukehiro #william vangeance #fuegoleon vermillion #nozel silva #yami sukehiro x reader #william vangeance x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #nozel x reader #black clover headcanons #Headcanons

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psychedelic-ink · 8 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘

ㅤㅤjoel miller x plus size!f!reader

genre: romance, flowershop au, jackson era, minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you own a small flower shop in Jackson, when Ellie comes to visit, your life inevitably becomes tangled with the man who cares for her; joel miller.

warnings: age gap, piv in the middle of a flower field, no one sees, praise kink, some angst because joel, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while and honestly, life has been kicking me in the gut lately with everything its got.

This originally was a commission, reader had a name and I've been working at it for months but sadly the person who commissioned be backed out last second saying they weren't interested anymore meaning I'm not getting paid for this work. Again, it's on me. Admittedly I've been slow on commissions due to my living situation and work and I should've taken half the payment upfront but trusting it was a joel fic I didn't really take extra precautions.

I decided to share it anyway, and the person who commissioned me said that I could. Any kind of writing has been hard for me to do lately and I really like how this one turned out. But since now I'm not getting paid for this work I decided to take out readers name and make some changes to the overall plot that I was given.

Sadly, I can't take any more commissions at the moment before finishing the ones I have left, but I'd be grateful for any kind of support you guys can give. I need to move out this summer (if I don't, I don't have a shadow of a doubt that my aunts will tell me to leave anyway) and I've been trying to save up as much as I can. Everything just has been a lot lately and I'm feeling anxious about my decisions and lost.

Again, any kind of support is greatly appreciated even tho I know I don't deserve it at this time:

my kofi

**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

You unlock the door to your quaint flower shop, the antique bell that you found and Tommy fixed chiming softly in greeting. Stepping outside, you're immediately embraced by the warmth of the morning sun, its golden rays dancing playfully on your skin. The air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, a delicate blend of fresh blossoms and earthy notes that fills your lungs with every inhale.

Dressed in a flowing dress, you feel perfectly in tune with the season as you begin arranging the colorful array of flowers on display outside your shop. The fabric of your dress sways gently in the breeze, a soft symphony of movement that mirrors the graceful dance of the petals.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and tilt your face towards the sky, basking in the gentle caress of the sun's rays. Above you, the cerulean expanse is dotted with fluffy white clouds, their shapes shifting and morphing with each passing moment.

With practiced hands, you arrange the blooms with care, each stem finding its place in the intricate tapestry of colors and textures. The vibrant hues of the flowers contrast beautifully against the backdrop of the weathered brick walls of your shop, creating a scene that's both inviting and enchanting.

As you work, you can't help but smile at the thought of the joy these flowers will bring to those who pass by. It’s been hard adopting to a new and broken world, but ironically, you have found your passion. Something to make you eager to get up in the morning. Of course your heart still ached for those you had lost, the suffering, but working on flowers, something living and growing and adapting just like you managed to lighten the weight on your heart. Whether it's a simple bouquet to brighten someone's day or a thoughtful arrangement for a special occasion, your creations have a way of spreading happiness and light wherever they go.

With the last of the flowers arranged to perfection, you step back to admire your handiwork, a sense of pride swelling within you. With a contented sigh, you turn to head back inside, ready to greet the day with open arms and a heart full of gratitude.

That is, until, you hear a surprised gasp.

“Holy shit—”

Turning around at the sound, you're met with the sight of a familiar face. A young girl you've seen around town quite frequently. You haven’t officially met her yet, but you know her name: Ellie.

Realizing that the young girl has never visited your flower shop before, you understand the source of her surprise. With a warm smile, you approach her and greet her by name. "You're Ellie, right? Tommy's niece?"

Ellie nods enthusiastically, her eyes bright with excitement. "Yeah, that's me! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I've just never been here before. The flowers are... fucking amazing—"

She suddenly claps a hand over her mouth, looking towards you apologetically. The gesture makes you laugh.

"I'm glad you like them," you reply, feeling a sense of satisfaction at her reaction. "Feel free to take a closer look if you'd like."

Her eyes light up at the invitation, and she eagerly follows you inside the cozy flower shop. The atmosphere inside is warm and inviting, with shelves lined with potted plants and bouquets of flowers in various stages of bloom. Sunlight filters through the windows, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating the vibrant colors of the blooms.

As you lead Ellie further into the shop, you can't help but notice the curious glances she casts around, taking in every detail with a sense of wonder. The air is filled with the subtle fragrance of flowers, a delicate scent that lingers in the air and adds to the charm of the space.

"So, Ellie," you begin, breaking the comfortable silence as you approach a display of freshly cut flowers, "Anything you like? I’d be more than happy to gift you some."

Ellie's eyes sparkle with excitement as she looks around the shop. "Really? But there’s so many, how can I even choose?"

"Well, you're in luck," you reply, gesturing towards the colorful blooms around you. "I can just make you a bouquet of everything. Just pick out your favorites."

Ellie's gaze drifts over the display, her expression thoughtful as she considers your question. "Hmm, that's a tough one, they all look so fucking cool," she muses, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. "How about sunflowers and. . . daisies? There's just something about them that feels... I don't know, hopeful, I guess."

You nod in understanding, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Sunflowers are a wonderful choice. They symbolize warmth, happiness, and positivity. Definitely a fitting choice for someone as vibrant as you, Ellie."

She grins at the compliment, "Thanks,. So, what about you? Do you have a favorite flower?"

“That’s a tough one, but I’d had to say daffodils. They just make me feel right at home. . . even though home has become a difficult word.”

She doesn’t answer you, at least not in a way that you would expect. She nods and says,

"Let's add some daffodils to the mix too. If that’s okay.”

“If course it is. I said any flower didn’t I?”

With Ellie's choices in mind, you set to work gathering the blooms she selected, expertly arranging them into a vibrant bouquet. Your hands move with practiced precision, the gentle rustle of petals and stems filling the air as you weave the different flowers together.

Each blossom is a work of art in its own right, vibrant hues mingling together in a harmonious dance of colors and textures. Sunflowers, with their golden petals reaching towards the sky, stand tall and proud at the center of the bouquet, symbolizing warmth and happiness. Daisies, with their delicate white petals and cheerful yellow centers, add a touch of innocence and purity to the mix. And finally, the daffodils.

Beside you, Ellie watches with rapt attention, her eyes shining, "It's so pretty," she remarks, her voice filled with awe.

You smile at her words, feeling a sense of pride swell within you at the sight of her delight. "Flowers have a way of bringing joy and beauty into our lives," you reply, your voice soft with reverence. "They remind us to appreciate the simple things and to find beauty in the world around us."

Finally, the bouquet is complete, a stunning masterpiece that radiates warmth and joy. You present it to Ellie with a flourish, a sense of satisfaction washing over you at the sight of her delighted expression.

"It's perfect," Ellie exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement as she admires the bouquet in her hands. "Thank you so much. This is amazing."

"It was my pleasure," you reply, your heart swelling with happiness at her words. "I'm glad you like it. And remember, if you ever want to learn more about flowers or need some help with anything, you know where to find me."

Ellie nods eagerly, her enthusiasm infectious. "Definitely. Thanks again. This means a lot."

As Ellie turns to leave, a sudden thought seems to strike her. She pauses, her hand on the door, before turning back to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Hey," she begins, a playful smile dancing on her lips, "do you need a flower assistant? I mean, I’d be nice to work here, and you seem really cool."

"Well, Ellie," you reply with a teasing grin, "If you're serious about helping out around here, I'd be more than happy to have you on board."

Ellie's eyes widen,. "Wait, really?" she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You mean it?"

You nod, your smile genuine as you reassure her. "Of course. I could use all the help I can get, especially during busy times. And besides, it'll be fun having you around. Consider yourself officially hired as my flower assistant, Ellie."

A grin spreads across Ellie's face, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of working alongside you in the flower shop. "Wow, I don't even know what to say," she admits, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

"No need to say anything," you grin. "Just don’t be late."

As Ellie nods, a sense of anticipation fills the air, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in both of your lives. With a shared sense of excitement and determination, you and Ellie set to work, ready to take on whatever challenges and adventures the future may hold for your blossoming partnership.

The next day unfolds with a golden hue, promising another beautiful day in Jackson. As you prepare for the day ahead, a sense of excitement tingles in the air knowing that you'll be mentoring Ellie, your newfound flower assistant. Ellie arrives earlier than you expected, her eyes oozing with sleep.

"Good morning, Ellie," you greet her with a warm smile, gesturing for her to come closer. "Ready for your first day?"

Ellie grins back, nodding enthusiastically. "Absolutely. I’m just not used to waking up so early."

With a chuckle, you lead her to the work table, where several potted plants await repotting. However, before diving into the day's tasks, Ellie's curiosity gets the better of her.

"How do you find all these flowers?" she asks. "I mean, with the infected and everything, it must be hard."

"I have a few spots outside of Jackson where I like to go to collect flowers. There's a field not too far from here that's brimming with all sorts of blooms."

Ellie's eyes widen and you can tell she's intrigued by the idea of venturing beyond the safety of the town's walls. "That sounds amazing," she breathes, her voice filled with wonder. "Do you go there often?"

You nod, a fond smile playing on your lips as you recall the countless trips you've taken to the flower field. "Yes, whenever I need to restock or find something special," you reply. "But I've also started growing some flowers myself. It's a work in progress, but it's been rewarding to see them bloom."

"That's so cool," she exclaims. "I'd love to see the field sometime, if you're up for it."

With a grin, you nod, "I'd be happy to take you," you reply. "But for now, let's focus on getting these plants repotted. We'll save the field trip for another day."

As if on cue, the shop door swings open, and a customer steps inside, a worn backpack slung over their shoulder. They approach the counter with a friendly smile, their eyes scanning the colorful array of blooms on display.

"Good morning," you greet them with a smile, your attention shifting to the customer. "How can I help you today?"

The customer returns your smile, reaching into their backpack to retrieve a small item wrapped in cloth. "I have something to trade," they explain, placing the item on the counter before you.

You unwrap the cloth to reveal a delicate piece of jewelry, a handmade necklace adorned with intricate beads and charms. It's a beautiful piece, clearly crafted with care and attention to detail.

Ellie watches with interest as you examine the necklace, her curiosity piqued by the exchange taking place before her eyes. "What are you trading for?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.

You glance at Ellie with a smile, impressed by her keen observation. "Well, Ellie, sometimes customers trade items in exchange for flowers," you explain, turning back to the customer. "It's a way for them to get something they need while also supporting the shop. As for how I decide what the flowers are worth, it's based on a few factors—like the rarity of the flowers, the time and effort it took to grow them, and of course, their beauty."

With a nod, you accept the necklace, carefully placing it aside before selecting a beautiful bouquet of flowers to offer in exchange. As the customer leaves the shop, their smile brighter than before, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you've made another person's day a little bit brighter.

“Ellie, I’m not sure me bargin’ into your new workplace is the best introduction,” Joel says.

“You’ll be fine,” she says, dragging Joel by the arm. “Besides, weren’t you the one grumbling about not liking me spending all my time with a stranger? What else was I fucking supposed to do?”

Joel lets out an elongated sigh. “Language.”

He can’t see it, but he knows she’s rolling her eyes at him. The tiny, rundown flower shop soon comes into view and Joel can’t help but think of all the improvements he could make: the crooked step, the splintered door, the moss growing from the bottom of the woody exterior—

This shop won’t last next winter, he thinks with furrowed brows. And even though he’s been skeptical about Ellie spending all of her time here, he’s seen the improvement in her mood. Things just haven’t been the same since their return from the hospital, he couldn’t shake the distant feeling between him and her no matter how hard he tried. It had become something even he couldn’t fix.

But then, one day, she’d come home with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d ever seen, with a wide smile plastered across her young face. Then she mentioned the keeper of the shop. Ever since then, his interest had been piqued.

Approaching the shop, he notices a figure outside arranging flowers, your silhouette bathed in the warm morning sun. You appear younger than he anticipated, your beauty catching him off guard. The way your dress contours your curves adds to your allure, a sight unexpected yet captivating. A gentle breeze tousles your hair as you work, momentarily leaving him speechless.

Contrasting his hesitation, you bound up to the shop with your usual cheerfulness. "Hey there!" Ellie calls out. The woman turns at her greeting, a genuine smile gracing her lips as she sets down the flowers. "Good morning!"

He hangs back, observing as Ellie effortlessly initiates a conversation with you. Your interaction flows with ease, suggesting a familiarity beyond your brief acquaintance.

While you chat, an unsettling feeling settles within him. There's an inexplicable pull towards the shop owner, despite his attempts to resist. Watching Ellie interact with you stirs a strange longing within him, leaving him more unsettled than before.

Before he can dwell on his thoughts further, Ellie snaps him out of it. "Joel, don’t be a stranger! Introduce yourself, she's the one I've been telling you about."

With a sigh, he steps forward, his approach cautious. As your eyes meet, a peculiar sense of recognition passes between you, as if you've crossed paths in another life.

"Hi," he manages to say, his voice gruff yet not devoid of warmth. "I'm Joel."

As he clasps your hand, a spark ignites between you, a connection unfurling with each passing moment.

“Joel?” you say slowly, as if tasting his name in your mouth. “Joel as in Tommy Miller’s brother?”

Your hand feels soft and delicate as it clasps his own, and he can't help but notice the subtle tremor in your fingers. It's a small detail, but it speaks volumes, hinting at a vulnerability that he hadn't expected from this beautiful stranger.

"Yeah, that's me," he responds with a nod, offering a friendly smile in return. "Tommy's my brother."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Joel. Ellie speaks very highly of you."

As you exchange pleasantries, he finds himself drawn to the warmth in your gaze, a warmth that seems to seep into his very soul. There's an openness about you, a genuineness that he finds both refreshing and disarming.

While you talk, he can't help but be captivated by the way your lips move, the gentle cadence of your voice. It's a strange sensation, this sudden fascination with a woman he's just met, but he finds himself unable to look away.

Your conversation is interrupted by Ellie's playful interruption, and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from you, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of leaving your side. But as they follow Ellie into the shop, he can't shake the feeling that meeting you has stirred something within him, something that he can't quite articulate.

Entering the shop, he can't help but notice even more things wrong– the creaky floorboards, the peeling paint, the flickering lights overhead. It's evident that the place is in dire need of renovations.

Despite the less-than-ideal surroundings, Ellie's excitement is contagious, and he finds himself getting swept up in the moment. She points out various flowers, their vibrant hues and delicate petals bringing a welcome burst of color to the dreary environment.

"These lilies are my absolute favorite," Ellie exclaims, thrusting a handful of flowers towards him with a mischievous grin.

He can't suppress a surprised sneeze as the pollen tickles his nose, and they both dissolve into laughter,and momentarily, all his concerns seem to fade away.

But just as they're catching their breath, you enter the room, your presence once again capturing his attention. There's something about you that intrigues him, a warmth and kindness that draws him in effortlessly.

A sheepish smile spreads across his face as your eyes meet. You return the smile, your gaze gentle and understanding, and for a fleeting moment, it feels as though you're the only two people in the room.

“Who helped you fix the place up?” Joel asks you as Ellie runs off to change the water of the vases. “

"Tommy actually," you explain. "He's been a tremendous help, especially with all the repairs."

Joel’s brows knit together and he ignores the way your smile falters as he speaks, “Well, leave it to my brother to do a shit job. This shop won’t last next winter.”

“O–Oh. . .” you hug yourself, thumbs moving along the contours of your arms. His heart sinks in, leave it to him to make someone feel bad.

“Not to say it can’t be fixed,” he continues abruptly. “I can help you out. Wouldn’t want Ellie’s new favorite spot to get buried under the snow.”

“Really?” you gasp, smile returning. “You would do that?”

“‘Course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just. . . I just wasn’t expecting such an offer thank you. It means the world to me.”

Suddenly Joel feels stiff from how deeply you stare at him, and then he realizes how close they are, only a breath away between their lips. He turns his head, grunting, “Don’t mention it,” a stuttered breath leaves him. “Really. Don’t.”

Your growing smile surprises him, as does your not backing away.

“You got it, Mr. Miller.”

Watching Joel work on fixing the roof of the shop, you can't help but feel a flutter of warmth stir within you. His muscles ripple with each movement, his arms bulging with strength as he lifts heavy beams and hammers nails into place. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, catching the sunlight and creating a halo of light around him.

You find yourself mesmerized by the sight, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him. His white tank top clings to his chest, damp with sweat, and the short-sleeved flannel he wears hangs open, exposing the tank top underneath. Every movement sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to your cheeks.

The sound of his grunts fills the air, low and guttural, and it sends a thrill through you that you can't quite explain. There's something primal about the way he works, a raw energy that draws you in and leaves you feeling breathless.

You watch as he reaches up to adjust a beam, his muscles flexing with the effort, and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like to run your hands over his warm, sweaty skin. The thought sends a shudder coursing through you, and you quickly look away, feeling flustered and embarrassed by the intensity of your thoughts.

But no matter how hard you try to focus on something else, your gaze keeps drifting back to Joel, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And as you watch him work, you can't help but feel a strange sense of longing stir within.

But for now, all you can do is watch and admire from afar, content to bask in the warmth of Joel's presence as he works tirelessly to repair the roof of the shop. And as you watch him, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself with determination as you clutch the bowl of freshly picked black mulberries and raspberries in your hands. With a quick glance up at Joel, who is perched precariously on the ladder, you gather your courage and make your way outside.

"Hey, Joel!" you call out, your voice tinged with nervousness as you approach the ladder. "I brought you some fruit and iced tea. Thought you could use a break."

Joel looks down at you with a grateful smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Thanks. That sounds great."

As he descends the ladder, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. With each step he takes, you steal glances at him, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him.

But it's when he reaches the bottom of the ladder and stretches upwards to take the bowl of fruit from your hands that you feel your breath catch in your throat. The movement causes his tank top to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of his stomach, and you swallow thickly at the sight.

As Joel settles down to enjoy the fruit and iced tea, you find yourself drawn to the empty spot next to him on the porch. With a nervous glance in his direction, you take a seat beside him.

The warmth of the wooden porch beneath you contrasts with the cool breeze that sweeps through, and you can't help but feel a sense of calm settle over you as you sit beside Joel. The silence between you is comfortable, broken only by the occasional sound of birds chirping in the distance.

“Lovely day, ain’t it,” Joel takes a bite of the freshly picked black mulberries, the deep purple juice stains his lips, a stark contrast against the ruggedness of his features, and you find yourself mesmerized by the sight.

The juice glistens in the fading sunlight, tracing a vivid trail along his lips as he savors the sweetness of the fruit. Each movement of his jaw seems deliberate, each bite a study in pleasure as he indulges in the simple pleasure of the moment.

A soft breeze rustles through the trees, lifting strands of his hair and sending them dancing in the golden light. But your gaze remains fixed on his lips.

The silence and sight makes you light-headed and eager to say anything, no matter how idiotic it might be.

“Aren't you a little old to be doing this much heavy lifting?”

“Aren't you a little too young to be lookin’ at me like that?”

Your shoulders rise, blood rushing to your head as you look down. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. Butterflies flutter madly within you, the wings tickling the insides of your stomach. You only swallow. “Your lips are stained from the mulberry.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

He takes another one, biting down with his lips, he finds your gaze. You watch a tiny drop go down his chin. The two of you are close. So incredibly close. It’s been like this since he started working on the shop. A pull that is too hard to ignore.

“Well,” he breaks the silence. “Better finish up before the sun sets.”

Joel stands and your heart breaks a little. You blink from where you’re sat, staring at him, yearning for him.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want you trying to find your way home in the dark.”

“You know, I could’ve come here on my own. I always do.”

“I know. Just wanted to make sure you have someone lookin’ after you.”

“For someone to be known as a grump, you’re quite a softie.”

“I’m leavin’.”

“No—!”

Your fingers close around his arm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you find yourself frozen in place, your pulse quickening as you realize just how close you are to him.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes, something that makes your heart race even faster. His eyes drop to your lips, lingering there for a moment before snapping back up to meet your gaze. You notice the hints of a fading smile, “You were joking,” you say slowly, letting go of him.

“That I was, wildflower,” he doesn’t move away and neither do you. Your breath catches within your throat, the moment stretching between your two like rubber. Before you can say anything Joel’s eyes flicker to something behind you and he smiles. “I think we’re here.”

As you turn around, your heart skips a beat. The field of flowers stretches out endlessly, a sea of color and beauty that seems to go on forever. The grass has grown taller since the last time you were here, swaying gently in the breeze and creating a soft, rhythmic rustle that fills the air.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the landscape and setting the flowers ablaze with color. Reds and yellows, blues and purples, a riot of hues that dance and swirl in the gentle breeze.

You take a step forward, the grass crunching beneath your feet as you walk further into the field. The scent of poppies and blue hyacinths fills your nostrils, sweet and intoxicating, and you can't help but close your eyes and breathe it in.

The wind sweeps across the field, sending waves of grass rippling in its wake. The sound is soothing, a gentle whisper that seems to carry you away on a tide of tranquility.

For a moment, you forget about everything else – the worries and the doubts, the uncertainties and the fears. All that matters is the beauty of this moment, the beauty of this place, and the beauty of being here with Joel.

With a rush of emotion swirling within you, you turn to Joel, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. He's still standing close, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

Without thinking, without hesitating, you lean forward and press your lips to his. At first, Joel is taken aback, his body stiffening in surprise. But then, he caves, his lips moving against yours in a slow, tender rhythm.

His hands come up to cradle your face, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. You feel his tongue on your bottom lip and open up for him eagerly, the taste of him feels like electricity shooting through you. Heat pools between your legs, Your breasts tingle with the mere thought of having his hands on them, nipples aching and hard.

Joel breaks away briefly, then closes the distance again. Small hisses against your swollen lips over and over until neither of you can breathe. He hungers for it almost. And so do you. “Joel,” you whisper, eyes cloudy. “Please.”

“Is that what you want, wildflower?” he drags his nose down the side of your cheek, facial hair scratching delightfully against the sensitive skin of your neck. “For me to fuck you here? Right out in the open?” his voice trembles. “Like animals?”

“God, yes—” your insides clench. “I would want nothing more. Been thinking about you since the day I met you, your hands, your mouth, you as a whole.”

His hands drop to your ass and he gives the tender flesh a strong squeeze, “You want me?”

“I do.”

You suddenly find yourself on the ground, the grass tickling your exposed legs and arms, the skirt of your dress rolled up to your waist. Joel’s weight is a welcoming comfort on top of you, another gust of warm wind blows. With a groan, he pulls down the sweetheart neckline of your dress, exposing both your breasts. While holding one, he kisses the other, drawing the stiff nipple into his mouth. He sucks harshly, your body jolting with pleasure. The soaking mess between your legs grows.

“Joel,” you moan, back arching. “Fuck—”

He swirls the tip of his tongue around the nipple and grazes his teeth against it. Calloused fingers play with the other. Your mind is swimming in pleasure. He brings the skirt of your dress further up and traces his lips down the fabric, when you look down, you see him between your legs, his eyes darker than normal as he stares into your soul. The tips of his fingers dance along the elastic of your panties, asking for permission.

You breathe out a yes, barely audible, but he nods and tugs the fabric down. When he latches his mouth on to you, the world stops. His mouth feels divine. His tongue delves between your folds, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit. You shudder against him and he moans into you. The reverberations of the sound force a gasp out of you and you swear you feel him smiling.

His fingers trace patterns along your thighs, teasing and stroking as his mouth works wonders between your legs. You're on the edge, the pleasure building up with each flick of his tongue. You reach down and bury your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, guiding him where you need him the most.

Joel picks up the pace, his tongue moving faster, his fingers slipping inside of you. You can feel your body starting to tighten, the coil in your stomach about to unravel. You grip onto him tighter, your hips bucking against his mouth, and with one final flick of his tongue, you come undone.

You cry out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Joel continues to lightly lick and suck, drawing out your pleasure until you're completely spent. He makes his way back up to your lips, kissing you deeply as you both catch your breath.

“That was…” you trail off, unable to find the right words for the mind-blowing experience you just had.

“Amazin’,” Joel finishes for you.

You nod, still a little breathless. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your body against his. Joel's hands roam over your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his erection against your thigh, and you know that he needs release just as much as you do.

“Been so long since I’ve tasted somethin’ this sweet,” he rasps. “Thank you.”

You hear the blood rushing in your ears, “You’re the sweet one,” you mumble, tenderly touching the scratchy surface of his cheek. “So sweet.”

He smiles and as he kisses the curve of your palm, shuffles above you, starting to get up. A deep frown forms between your brows. “And where are you going?” you pout, wrapping your arms around him. You feel the outline of his length as he lowers himself once more, the tips of your noses brushing against one another.

“I thought you wanted to gather some flowers.”

“Not yet,” you murmur, eyes glazed. “At least, not before feeling you inside me.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a whimpering breath, grinding himself against your bare cunt. “You really know how to get a man goin’.”

“Prove it.”

His eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite describe. His breath stutters, then, without even looking, he unbuckles himself, never breaking eye contact. Joel’s hair ruffles with the wind, yet he doesn’t even blink. The head of his cock catches against your clit, ripping a moan from your throat. He fills you with one sloppy thrust, the length of him stretching you enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“Joel—Oh my god—”

“That’s it, good girl, takin’ my cock so well. Feels good?”

Slack-jawed, you nod. He goes deeper. “Want you to feel me for weeks, wildflower. And I want you to think of me every time you come to this god—” thrust. “—damn” thrust. “—field.”

You can only moan at his words, his hands grip your lovehandles, squeezing and pulling you closer to him every time he rocks forward. His head falls into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin, he sucks. Your body convulses, shaking against him.

Sparks ricochet through every limb of your body as you feel the heat pooling in your core. Joel moves his hand from your lower back to cup your breast, his fingers teasing and plucking at your nipple. The pleasure ricochets through your body, making you feel like you're on fire.

“Come for me, darlin’.” Joel growls into your ear, his voice rough and primal. “Come on my cock.”

His words send you over the edge, your body shaking and convulsing beneath him as he continues to thrust into you relentlessly. The world blurs around you, all your senses consumed by the feeling of Joel's body against yours.

"Joel—" you moan, your voice lost in the wind as you reach your peak.

He groans in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. After one final, deep thrust, he pulls out and spills over your stomach, his body shaking against yours. You both ride out the waves of pleasure until finally, you collapse against each other, panting and spent.

You lay in the flower field, a tangled mess of limbs and sweaty bodies. Joel's arms are still wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your neck as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you say quietly, almost to yourself.

Joel lifts his head to look at you, his eyes softening. "Me neither, wildflower. Me neither."

As the sun begins to set, you both lay there, entwined in each other's arms. The field has become a symbol of something more than beauty. And as long as those flowers bloom, you know your love for each other will continue to grow.

A week.

A week without hearing from him, seeing him, touching him.

A painful week.

It’s almost as if he never existed. As if the moment in your favorite field was nothing but your imagination. The only reason why you know it's real is because Ellie still comes by every day, and despite knowing it’s impossible, you still feel him deep inside. It only heightens whenever you have to travel back to the field to gather flowers for the shop.

You watch as Ellie places more daisies into a vase. She’s been her usual self, joking around, telling you about all the details of her life. It’s hard not to ask her about Joel and how he’s been.

Some nasty part of your mind whispers words of discouragement, telling you he only wanted you for your body, for your charm, and got what he wanted. Your heart clenches. It might be true. You were young after all, emotional, broken. He’d already gone through all that, killed to stay alive, for loved ones, gone through grief—why would he want to take on another’s problems as well?

“Hey, Ellie?”

She turns to you, eyes slightly wide due to the rasp of your voice, “Yeah boss?”

“Can you watch the shop for a second, I have something I need to do that I forgot about.”

You don't wait for her nod as you exit the shop. You know he’s home. He has to be.

Luckily it doesn’t take you long to reach their house, your knock is loud and swift. You know you’ve taken him by surprise by the expression when he opens the door. His mouth is slightly ajar, his brows knit together.

“What are you—”

“I came to talk,” you brush past him, heading inside. Joel lingers at the door but soon after follows you inside anyway.

He sighs, “What do you want to talk about?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "Us," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "I need to know what happened, Joel. Why you've been avoiding me."

Joel's jaw clenches at your words, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "I ain't good for you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "You deserve better than someone like me."

You feel a surge of anger rising within you at his words, frustration bubbling up to the surface. "That's for me to decide, Joel," you say, your voice tinged with defiance. "I'm not some fragile flower that needs to be protected. I can make my own choices, and right now, I choose you."

Joel's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You don't know what you're saying," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a mess, a broken man with too much blood on his hands. You deserve someone who can give you the world, not someone who can barely keep himself together. You’re young. You still have so much ahead of you—"

“No! That’s not what I want. I want you, you’re the only person who’s made me feel like. . . like myself. . .before. And wanted.”

Your voice begins to shake, you see the hesitation within his body, hod his hand slightly moves forward to hold you, to touch you, but he doesn’t.

“I can’t do this to you,” his hands slide into his pockets, he gestures to the door. “Get out.”

The blood freezes in your veins, your eyes grow wide, your chest constricts, “What?”

“I said to get out,” he repeats, a little louder this time. “Get out, please.”

And you do.

“You need to get your shit together.”

“Language, Ellie, dammit.”

She glares at him from across the table. It’s an early morning, earlier than he’d liked. He’s been feeling hallowed out ever since your visit. He could see the hurt in your eyes, the betrayal. He knew that he’d broken something when avoiding you, something tender and not so easily fixable.

But what was he supposed to do? You were young, he didn’t want to trap you, didn’t want you to throw the best years of your life for an old man like him.

Briefly, he squeezes his eyes shut. His head hurts. All he can think about is you, your body, how eager it was to take him, the delectable curves he couldn’t get enough of.

He misses your taste on his tongue.

“She’s miserable too, you know.”

Joel’s eye snap wide open. “Who?”

“You know who,” she shakes her head. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but she’s definitely upset and so are you—Just fix it. Don’t be an asshole”

He let’s out a sigh, she’s right. He needs to fix this somehow. Joel stares at Ellie, her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn't realized just how much his actions had affected not only you but also Ellie. The weight of his own guilt settles heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of the mess he's made.

"Yeah," he mutters, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

He runs a hand through his hair, the tension in his muscles making every movement feel heavy and strained. He knows he needs to make things right, to somehow find a way to mend the rift he's created between you and him.

But how? How could he possibly make things right after everything that's happened?

"I'll talk to her," he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll fix it."

Ellie nods in approval, her expression softening slightly as she looks at him. "Good," she says, her tone gentle. "Because I don't want to see either of you hurting anymore."

She was right and he knew it.

“The shop’s closed today,” Ellie says as he grabbed his jacket. “I don’t know where she is.”

But he did. He knew exactly where you would be. The place he tasted you, the place he felt your body against him.

Joel's heart sinks as he approaches the flower field and sees you sitting there, your shoulders hunched over as you hug your knees to your chest. He can hear your sobs from a distance, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.

For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of what to do or say. But then, with a heavy sigh, he pushes aside his doubts and makes his way towards you.

As he draws closer, he can see your whole body trembling with the force of your emotions. His heart aches at the sight, knowing that he's the cause of your pain. He kneels infront of you, gently touching your wrists.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's me, Joel."

You startle at the sound of his voice, lifting your head to look at him with tear-streaked eyes. For a moment, there's a flicker of surprise in your gaze, followed by a wave of raw emotion.

"Joel?" you choke out, your voice thick with tears. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you," he says, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't stand the thought of you hurtin’ like this."

"I thought... I thought you didn't care," You sniffle, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand.

Joel reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and tender. "I care more than you know," he says. "I made a mistake, a big one, and I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to. . .I didn’t think I deserved someone like you."

"I missed you," you admit softly, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

Joel's heart clenches at your words, a rush of emotion flooding through him. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you bury your face against his chest.

"I missed you too, wildflower," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "And I promise, I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."

He hears the smile in your voice.

“You already do.”

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