#your honor. they miss each other so much
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mspaint scribbles I’m thinkin’ about them so much
#you know its bad when I open up ms paint. it’s fine#my art#trito#kinoga#splatoon#my ocs#splatoon ocs#doodles#I feel so ill#everything to me#your honor. they miss each other so much#forever will be a fan of the trope of coming together after being apart and clinging onto the euphoria of the reunion and not wanting to go#anyways#anyways!!!!!!!!!#i’m pretty sure I talked about them briefly lorewise in the. comic post but man. i love to rotate#tritonoga
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he’s talking abt seeker constellation myths
#transformers#starscream#knock out#knockscream#koss#the truth comes out: i was a transformers kid#rlly my friend was the diehard fan and i absorbed Love of Starscream through her#i just think he and knock out are so sillyfunny. they’d murder someone and complain abt the mess#this is one of the only enemies to lovers ships i have and its bc theyre enemies AND lovers. they hate each other and theyre dating <333#when i saw ‘thirst’ for the first time. yall. heads were rolling that day#‘it’s been an honor serving alongside you’ ‘i always admired your lustrous finish’ shut UP#i havent been into transformers since like 2016 but i miss specifically prime starscream#he’s a bitch metal butterfly and he’s my favorite#originally i wrote here ‘i’m never drawing mechs again’ haha i lied. i drew mechs So Much
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Do you think that Tech would stay up late at night drawing up plans to get Crosshair back
Do you think he had a secret folder on his datapad titled “Operation Crosshair” where he saved his plans and all the data he uncovered about inhibitor chips and photos and videos of their adventures so that they could catch him up when they got him back
Do you think he had plans that were more or less just kidnapping Crosshair and forcing him to be with them again because so help him, that little toothpick-chewing twerp was gonna like them again whether he wanted to or not
Do you think he had plans where Crosshair simply commed them one day on their secure channel and asked them to come back for him because he’s their brother and he’s gonna come around one day
Do you think he had a specific plan where he died getting Crosshair back because him being part of the family again meant more to him than anything
DO YOU THINK—
#tech missed his brother so much and you can’t tell me otherwise#they need each other your honor#AND THEY WERE NEVER TOGETHER AGAIN#sw tbb#the bad batch#star wars#tbb#sw the bad batch#tbb tech#tbb crosshair
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CAUSE THIS IS THRILLER (bark), THRILLER (bark) NIGHT
Usopp's outfit is so funny for reals
He got the whole squad laughing
Luffy enablers at it again.... (Robin.... I know.....)
The humor panels so far have been so good!!! God this arc is so funny
HE SAID IT‼️‼️
They look like birds 😭😭
It's just too good... luffy taking cerberus and zombies what can't he do
It's just banger after banger what can I say
Franky feeling for other people because of his guilt complex and sanji lying through his teeth and pulling out the women excuse to seem unaffected... yeah
Look at them.... look how they ate
Omg joyboy reference?? (No)
Sanji is rubbing off on usopp.... also chopper noticing that is sogeking's weapon akdhaksjak
ANOTHER SLAY!!!!!
Their priorities: I'm not strong enough, there isn't enough food, and nami isn't here
Franky going from wanting to kill brook for his jokes to making a joke like his after he hears his backstory... exactly (Robin was already enabling him before the backstory even fdagjsfha)
Sanji is altering his body and actually being on fire to communicate to us how fucking mad he is..... I need more of him going insane I do I do
My god what is he doing ALDJALAJALA
AHSAHAHQHAH THEY ARE THE SAME!!! naaah sanji wouldn't force a woman to be his wife
You cant see me but I am nodding my head in agreement over and over
You don't understand he altered his body to communicate to us how mad he is. He inploded himself and then reconstituted again. Those germa 66 genes are insane
You tell em usopp!!!! The first of many girls you've scared into defeat!!! Akdjqknql
Zoro zombie regressed to not trusting robin akdjaks he's still in there
ROBI-CHO SUPLEX??? HELL YEAAAAAH
There is zosa- [GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT]
Super frapper gong.... he is doing combo shots with frobin... omg.... parents....
Everything is so fun I'm having such a good time reading.... and then zosan angst like damn I am being fed well here
#in the anime the guys didn't say they wanted to die aldjlajala for the kids luffy just wants to turn into a clam#thriller bark is so funny.... 'worst arc' my ass.... it's funny as hell and then we get zosan angst. best thing ever#same with skypiea but there we got really nice relationships betwen characters and nolan x calgara homoeroticism for the ages#and LORE for the ages. not like the kuma incident won't be talked about in the history books but yeah#everyone calling absalom perv salom... yeah#sanji in that fucking penguin never gets old.... also HELLO LOLA#moira fought against kaido and lost akdjsksnks is that why he became a warlord? just like whitebeard defeated crocodile?? out of spite??#also what is the land of ice where moira got oars? he also mentioned it before too... i thot he was referring to ryuma so it was wano but n#the legend of the continent puller who built a nation of villains.... okay okay oars....#oars was killed 500 years ago.... ✍️✍️ this somehow feels important bc of its closeness to the void century etc#zombie luffy oars wanting sanjis food.... 🚬🚬🚬 of course.....#oars luffy maintaining his dream... yeah yeah. also namis outfits for this arc are so sickening.... i miss them already#the zombie generals being at absalom's wedding... thats so funny..#luffy oars is so funny aldjslsn just making himself a hat and steering his giant ship... of course#you guys think they are going to make sanji mad about the clear clear fruit in the opla or completely ignore it bc his reasoning is bad#like it makes sense with the wci backstory it does but that would be spoilers lmao. so its either he wants to peep on women or nothing#i love the greek chorus of the two zombies telling the audience how they are both as bad in that regard. amazing#did ryuma use french for his attack.... there is zosan everywhere for tho-[GUNSHOTS]#zombie ryuma's design is also cool as hell.... his blood is literally fire.... come on now....#also zoro says he wants to act like this fight didnt happen... is that why he says fuck all in wano to hiyori? damn. he said i put shame#in you and your country but i will keep it quiet bc you gave me a cool sword and fight and i am actually so honorable. thats him yeah...#zombie zoro and sanji remaining tfait being that they hate (love fighting) each other... there is zosa-[GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT]#i forgot how much oars destroyed them... after enies lobby they seem untouchable but without their captain there... the gears are turning..#also btw i cannot believe im gonna get an answer about why the skypieans and the shandians have wings. thats insane#i am enjoying luffy oars so much it is so fun. trying to enjoy it bc i know i won't be laughing anymore once sabaody kicks in.... fuck me..#usopp and franky wanting to wait for luffy to beat oars down but zoro and sanji know... and they will KNOW soon enough....#i forgor kuma asked about ace to nami... what is going on. kuma coming from the warlord meeting too.... did he want to warn him??#he wanted to inform moria about balckbeard becoming a warlord omg here we go.... also moria being racist towards kuma hello???#and he strictly follows the government.... until here bc he lets luffy go.... christ.... he asks about ace bc he knew what blackbeard did..#reading one piece
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AELSWITH & ALFRED (being SO Married and SO cute 🥺🥰) IN 2x02
#the last kingdom#sevenkingsmustdie#I'm back#I am (mostly) recovered from illness and work has (mostly) calmed down#your honor I love them#they are everything to me#its missing them hours#who am I kidding#I am ALWAYS missing them#and I am always thinking about them#I love them so much#they are everything#they mean so much to me#g o d#the way they look at each other#the way they are so comfortable here and the way alfred is so cute with her#my HEART#he loves her so much#they start this scene with no space between them#literally LEANING against each other#the way the SECOND she starts to move away from him he immediately lets her know that he's joking#because she moved away and they weren't touching anymore#the way she literally is leaning into him in the last gif#the way there is ZERO space between them#they are the definition of married and in love#god#g o ddddddd#I rest my case#they are it#they are the only couple
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The King’s Retribution ⥃ prince Aemond Targaryen
Summary: when he walks back to the Keep, Aemond finds his brother’s wife in distress while her youngest child keeps her awake. Maybe it’s time to show the King that no one can humiliate the one-eyed prince.
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, rough sex, lactation kink, reader is Aegon’s wife, post B&C, s2e3 inspired, dacryphilia, Aemond feels humiliated after the brothel scene, hair pulling, doggystyle, they do it in Aegon’s rooms👀 kind of a chubby/overweight reader because she has baby weight, tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3
Word count: 3.6k+
A/n: a very special thank you to @aemonds-holy-milk for this incredible request!!! And a very honorable mention and thank you to @arcielee for helping me with the plot and beta-ing for me! Your touch made this much hotter and better!🩷 Reblogs and comments are more than welcome<33
Aemond pushes the door to one of Maegor’s tunnels, peeking through to see if anyone is around. He scoffs when he finds the hallway empty, with no guards, no maids or handmaidens. He walks upstairs to the royal chamber’s floor, one hand pushing his hood off while the other twirls his dagger.
He is filled with such rage that he can burn this castle down without Vhagar’s help. The sting of humiliation keeps poking through his ribs, making him heave with each breath he takes. He had to keep his composure back in the brothel, he had to show his power by walking outside the room naked as the day he was born to regain some control his brother took away from him.
He walks past the rooms of his family, skipping a stair here or two as he follows the path to his chambers in silence, until he reaches his brother’s doors, catching the sound of a soft hiccuping and muffled wailing of a child.
Aemond unsheathes the dagger as he steps closer to the unguarded door, shaking his head in disbelief at his brother’s ignorance, especially after what happened to Jaehaerys. He opens the door slowly, not wanting to startle whoever is inside — a nursemaid or the queen.
He finds you sitting in front of the fireplace with baby Maelor crying fat tears in your arms as he tries to latch onto your exposed breasts to fill his tiny, hungry belly. Aemond’s eye wanders over your bare upper body; heavy swollen teats leaking with milk, a tired and teary expression on your face as you try to lull your son back to sleep, tending to him, caressing him, loving him.
He has never seen a sight more beautiful than this.
He sheathes his dagger and pushes it into his belt before knocking on your door gently so as not to scare you and his nephew. He watches you closely as you snap your head in his direction, the tension leaving your shoulders as you smile at him sadly.
“Aemond,” you call him, gasping when your son bites your already sore nipple with his gums, trying to latch on to it but failing. He cries harder, face twisted angrily, his chubby cheeks red and puffy with how long he’s been searching for some comfort.
“Please, please don’t — mommy is trying,” you cry with him softly, standing up to pace around the room while you rock him, shushing him and wiping his tears. You are trying your hardest to feed him properly, but every second is wasted in vain as he cries and fusses in your arms.
Aemond closes the door behind him, enraptured with the sight you made—watching you walk around the room, half bare and beautiful to his eager eye. He unfastens his cloak and belt that holds his daggers and sword before laying it on the nearest table, walking towards you with his hands locked behind his back.
You look like The Mother coming real, a god he should worship at your altar.
“Oh, my darling boy,” you coo at Maelor, sniffing as he sobs harder, his little fists flying on your chest as he searches for your breast, mouth parted and ready to be filled with his late-night meal.
Aemond stands behind you, not too close to intrude on your personal space, especially in such a vulnerable state you are in, but to keep looking at you. His eye roams across your nude chest, your fuller stomach, and hips that carry the remaining weight of having pushed a babe into the world.
He listens to your words, remembering the sight of his brother mocking him at the brothel, while he was being cuddled and taken care of — what an ugly laugh he has, Aegon.
His gaze darkens as he looks at you, his queen, his brother’s wife, his brother’s possession, being so vulnerable in his presence with your breasts out and your child finally suckling on them. His eye finds your form once more as Aegon's words replay in his ears — ‘My brother will not sample another.’ He will make sure to teach his brother a very valuable lesson and serve him a good punishment.
His cock starts to swell beneath the layers of his clothing as he stares at you with a newfound passion; you have always been a lovely figure in his mind, too sweet and beautiful to be wed to his brother, and yet, now your features seem to be bolder in his eye.
He strides forward when he hears Maelor crying again, this time much softer but a cry nonetheless. You scurry to cover your breasts when you feel him behind you, trying to look at least a bit modest now that your child is less fussy.
“I’m sorry, Aemond, I-I forgot you came to visit,” you say in a hushed tone, waiting with bated breath for him to say something.
He looks down at his nephew over your shoulder, reaching to wipe a drop of milk from his round cheek near his mouth, his fingers brushing against your sore nipple accidentally. Both of you inhale sharply — him with the new rush of desire and you in surprise.
“What a messy eater,” he says, his eye meeting yours as he brings his wet finger to his mouth, licking the remaining of your milk off while he keeps eye contact with you, dropping his eye to your lips as soon as they part in surprise before he meets your eyes again — they look darker, cloudier, more lustful. Your lashes flutter, and your rosy lips let out a shaky breath as you keep your gaze on his pink tongue licking his finger.
“It runs in the family I’m afraid,” you reply, averting your eyes from him, pressing a kiss on top of your son’s head as you bounce him, trying to hide your embarrassment.
Despite how crude your husband is, he’s never been one for making you flustered by such a simple gesture, and yet, his brother seems to be the complete opposite; bold, daring, and he’s surely taking whatever he wants.
“May I?” Aemond asks, standing in front of you with extended arms, reaching to take Maelor in his embrace. You gently pass him over, and as soon as your arms are free you bring them to your chest to cover your breasts.
“I-I need to—would you mind holding him for a moment?” You pull the front of your shift up as you ask him, and he can’t help his gaze not fall back on your chest but looks upward to your eyes quickly before you catch him and nod.
He hugs Maelor close, resting his little head on his shoulder as he walks towards his crib, glancing at you walking past the privacy screen. Aemond shushes his nephew, rocking him gently while he hums a tune his mother used to sing for him to lull him to sleep. It seems his efforts have worked when Maelor grows quiet, tinted cheeks stained with tears and fingers fisted tightly. Aemond lies him down slowly, brushing a finger over the few strands of his nephew’s silver hair before his attention is turned to you walking towards him with a warm towel over your chest.
“He has been restless as of late,” you sigh, leaning down to brush a kiss on your son’s forehead, standing on Aemond’s good side, “as have I, as everyone in the Keep. It seems he feels the loss of his brother.”
“We are all shaken by the loss of Jaehaerys,” he replies, his good eye looking up at your face, taking in every up and down of your face.
“Yeah,” you smile at him, ducking your head as soon as the tears gather in your eyes, “yeah…”
He takes a step closer, reaching to wipe the tear that fell from your eye, cupping your cheek in his large hand, “What ails you, my queen?”
“I just…” words die in your throat as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek, tracing the shape of your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ve been feeling so unloved.” Your voice comes out a fragile whisper.
“Why is that, my queen?” He asks, swallowing harshly at the thought of his fool of a brother being neglectful to you. He’s been given the most beautiful maiden in the realm as his wife, so dutiful and sweet, but taken for granted because Aegon can’t simply keep his cock in his breeches for so long.
“Did you happen to see him when you were out?” You ignore his question, looking up at him from beneath your wet lashes that frame your eyes so perfectly.
He nods, his strong hold on your face never faltering, if anything he’s now more determined to punish Aegon, to take something he has been given on a silver plate but failed to care for. His touch is warm and welcoming, it grounds you to this moment of brief recognition of your feelings. Aemond seems to understand it, willing to give more, but his main purpose of this visit is to hurt Aegon the way he has hurt him.
“Was he—“ a sob is stuck in your throat as you try to utter the words, “in the b-brothel?”
Aemond looks down at his muddy boots, recalling how his brother saw him, how he laughed and undermined him in front of his friends. Aemond forgets about your question for a second, pressing his lips into a thin line and gritting his teeth before he looks back up at you, not before looking one last time at your chest, watching your milk soak through the fabric.
“I-I apologize, maybe it’s best if you leave—” You move away from him, making his hand fall from your face as you try to put back the little dignity you have left before you embarrass yourself more in front of him.
Something shifts inside him as you hide yourself from him, putting more distance between as you move toward the bed. His brother was right; he has not sampled another and has always sought out the Madame, but maybe it ought to change, maybe the fire of his brother’s cruelty might quell if he takes his most precious possession from him.
“Allow me to help you, my queen,” he walks toward you slowly, his eye seizing you up, taking in the sight of your curls around your shoulders, your skin glowing under the orange hues of the candles.
You turn around, watching him take long steps until he’s standing in front of you. He raises his hand, brushing his knuckles on your collarbones, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage. You exhale shakily, whether it is in requited desire or surprise, he does not know, but you do not push him away, just a weak protest that ‘we should not do this, I am your brother’s wife.’
“My brother is a fool who demeans others to feel powerful, and he has done this to us both,” he dips his down on your neck, his hot breath fanning on your ear, “let me show you what you have been deprived of.”
“You wish to help me just to teach your king a lesson?” your voice comes out with a slight tremble as you reach to brush your fingers through his silky hair. “Is that truly why you want me?”
“I despise when Aegon takes what is his for granted,” he says, “He is a fucking twat who takes for granted the treasures he has been given: the throne, the crown, you. And he humiliates you, his queen, by stepping inside that sinful place," he mumbles against your skin, tracing his lips over your neck while his nose nudges your cheek.
“What do you want to do?” you whine when he bites your earlobe; you cling to his shoulders.
“I wish to fuck you like a hound,” he groans into your ear, his hands coming to grip your full hips.
“We will experience his wrath, Aemond,” you try to protest, but with how focused he is on marking your skin, you cannot help but melt in his arms.
“He is the king, I’m a kinslayer,” he hovers his mouth over yours. “I will kill him too if he dares to subject you to his anger.”
“We must be quiet-mhm—” he cuts you off, smashing his lips to yours, swallowing your protest. His hands move to your waist, gripping and caressing wherever he can reach, his tongue meeting yours in a soft battle of dominance.
You moan into his mouth when one of his fingers traces a line from your hip up to your breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his large palm. He groans against your sweet lips in delight, loving the weight of you in his hand. His thumb swipes across the wet towel before he pulls it out of your shift and drops it on the floor, leading you backward past the privacy screen to the bed.
You tangle your fingers in his soft hair, reaching to pull away the tie and letting his shiny silver hair frame his face beautifully while he kisses your breath away.
He lies you on the bed, breaking away from your lips for a second to look down at you, making room on top of you with his gaze fixed on the way your milk soaks through the fabric. He grabs the sides of your shift, ready to rip it apart before you put your hand on his, shaking your head, mumbling a hushed ‘we need to be quiet’ before taking off the dress yourself, lying under his heated gaze all bare except for your small clothes.
“My brother is a fucking idiot,” he mutters before he leans down to lick a path from your neck to your heaving chest, swiping the tip of his tongue over your nipple. He hums as he tastes a few beads of your milk, but abruptly stops when you whine, looking up at you with a questioning look.
“Maelor, well, he can’t latch onto his wet nurses. They are a bit s-sensitive— oh!” Your hand flies to your mouth when Aemond closes his lips around your bud, sucking like a babe being starved for hours, finally having his fill.
His other hand moves to your other breast, pinching, squeezing, and playing with the flesh while he gets drunk on your milk, helping the weight of discomfort vanish immediately.
Your nipple falls from his lips with a lewd ‘pop’, and he moves to the other one, giving the same attention while he leaves sticky lines of your milk across your chest, sucking on your teat quickly, nearly growling at the taste.
You cannot do anything besides moaning behind your hand and arching your back, pushing your chest further into his face. You throw your head back as your hips buck into his, his bulge rubbing against your covered core.
Aegon has never done this for you, it’s always been his duty to plant his seed inside you with little to no care for you to just make an heir, and after Jaehaerys, he’s been ever more distant — no more dinners, no walks in the garden with you and the kids.
His interest weakened the more you started to show, your soft dolce features turned into one of a woman, a mother-to-be, so he sought his pleasure in the brothels to fill the void you could no longer fill. You were non-existent in his eyes, and for once, you are glad, because the other Targaryen brother seems as if he’s in heaven while he feasts upon your breasts like a deprived babe.
He lets go of your nipple finally, giving the fat of your breast one last kiss before he works his way up to your lips. He unlaces his pants and breeches, urging you to reach and undo his doublet, dropping it down on the pile of clothes. He breaks away to gasp for air while he grabs the back of his linen shirt and stands on his knees stark naked, his cock red, angry, and ready to burst inside you. His mouth shines with drops of your milk and spit.
He grabs the back of your thighs, spreading your legs to his hungry eye, licking his lip as his gaze falls on your soaked cunt. Aemond’s patience runs thinner than before, he moves closer to you, and his hair falls around you like a silver waterfall.
He strokes himself a few times before aligning himself with your entrance, pushing in until his cockhead is inside your warm cunt before he slams all the way into you. He muffles your scream with his own lips, hands coming to rest around your head, caging you under him as he starts thrusting.
Finally, he thinks, finally he has taken something that belonged to his brother, something so precious and fragile. You are nothing like Sylvie, you are soft and delicate, you taste deliciously sweet, and oh so responsive.
He relishes the way you scratch his back as he fucks you with abandon, snapping his hips into yours furiously as he lets the pent-up anger he feels pour out of him. It is the anger he had inside because of his brother’s idiocy, the words that cut him deep like a sharp dagger.
But no more, no, it is time to take whatever belonged to Aegon. You are just a beautiful touch to it, and he would make sure his brother knows who’s been here, on his bed, giving his wife the pleasure she has never experienced before.
“My queen,” he shushes you, reaching down to collect a drop of your milk before reaching to smear it on your lips, licking it off them. His cock pistoning inside of you quickly, but he is mindful of the baby sleeping on the other side of the privacy screen.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, breasts bouncing with each deep thrust as you try to keep your voice at bay.
He remembers his brother’s words once more; ‘did you fuck her like a hound?’ No, not with the Madame, but he will fuck the queen of the seven Kingdoms like one now.
He pulls out of you, leaving you clenching and whining at the empty feeling before he flips you over on your stomach, pulling your hips up as he spits into his hand and strokes himself before making home inside your tight cunt again, his cock reaching deeper with this position.
You fist the pillows under your hands, biting the fabric to muffle your noises, and Aemond notices that it is your husband’s pillow you are lying on.
He chuckles lowly, one hand gripping the fat of your hip while the other runs down the curve of your spine before he fists your hair in his much larger hand, pushing your head into Aegon’s pillow even more.
“Breathe in his scent while I fuck you like a dog in heat, yes, good girl,” he groans, his limbs tingling with pleasure and anger, letting his emotions take the best of him as he picks up his pace. “Yes, remember how much of a pathetic husband he is, think of how he can never give you pleasure like I can while I fuck my child inside you.”
Tears run down your face from how intense he is taking you from behind, his hips snap into your arse. Your wetness drips down on the bed sheets, but there is little you can do but take what he gives you — a blinding and mind-blowing pleasure you have never had with your husband.
Aemond reaches around your body to find your pearl, rubbing quick and steady circles on the bundle of nerves, leaning down to prep your spine with feather-like kisses, taking in your mesmerizing scent, and looking closer at your tears, taking pure satisfaction in seeing what a mess he has made out of Aegon’s wife, the realm’s queen.
You come with a sob, teeth digging into the soft cushion while your legs shake, walls clamping down against his girth, eliciting a deep throaty moan from him. He lets go of your weeping cunt and grabs your bouncing breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his hand while his face falters, his thrusts deepen.
When his climax washes over him, it’s all white hot pleasure that rushes through his veins. He shakes atop you while his cock twitches and shoots ropes of his warm spend deep inside you, filling you to the brim. He kisses your tears, his face pushed against your cheek as he lets out broken gasps and groans.
He untangles his fingers from your hair as soon as he calms down from his high, bringing his milk-covered hand to his lips to lick it clean while he meets your eyes.
You look angelic, glowing with the aftermath of your release. The Mother came to life, he thinks.
He pulls out of you gently, minding how sensitive you must feel after the brutality he bestowed upon you. Aemond helps you under the covers, not caring to clean either of you up before he lies down next to you wrapping one arm around you while you curl next to him with your head on his chest.
He notes how quiet you are, drowsy and sleepy in the aftermath of your climax. He takes pride in how peaceful you look, and how good he must have made you feel. His good eye falls on the nightstand on his side, finding his brother — no, the Conqueror's crown — glinting under candlelight.
“I will kill him,” he whispers, “I will make sure our son sits upon that chair and holds Blackfyre. I will kill him, and no one shall ever know it was me.”
#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x chubby reader#rue:smut#fic requests
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“ baby steps ” || tokyo rev.
continuation of this post.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, ANGST w/ comfort (mostly in mikey's), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be A LOT of errors :// mikey's is LONG, ran + sanzu's are silly goofy, mikey + sanzu's are a lil unhinged lol and i think that’s it :))
notes: can i just say thank y'all so much for showing "accidents happen" the love that i didn't think it would get, it was made on a whim so i'm so so so happy y'all enjoyed! i tagged as many as i could (or that tumblr would allow) sorry if i missed some of you :( thank you for your patience and let me know how you feel about this continuation format :) !! notes ii: also also, pt. 2 for "accidents happen" coming soon! notes iii: MY COMPUTER CRASHED AND I THOUGHT I LOST EVERYTHING BUT IT'S OKAY IT'S OKAY :'))))
tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow , @captaincyberqueen , @cherryblossiren , @niragiswhore , @awkwardaardvarkforever , @valentsoup , @lovely212 , @miffysoo , @yandere-kouhai , @i-am-just-a-girl-ur-honor , @wisteriarose214 , @kindadolly , @yuwaimo , @sweetbella1221 , @simpingfor-wakasa , @sirachano0dles , @yutahg , @slowlikehonee , @blurpleuni-squid , @haruchiyoreen , @istanstraykidss , @loyard176 , @msluccapotato , @luv444lay , @backgroundcharactera , @jegelskeranime
Ever since you picked up your daughter, there’s been a hovering presence that wouldn’t go away no matter where you went. From the park, to the grocery store, all the way home it clung to you like a bad itch. Despite looking over your shoulder and being met without any sort of threat, that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling. And it only intensified when you received a knock on your front door.
You made a confused hum, checking the time on the microwave to confirm that it was indeed past the reasonable hour for potential visitors. Not to mention, you weren’t expecting anyone.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, instincts telling you that something wasn’t right, that your best option was to pretend you weren’t home. However, the person on the other side knew otherwise as they knocked on the door again, this time with more fervor. You inhaled sharply, taking hesitant steps towards the door until you were mere feet away from it. Eventually, you worked up the courage to look through the peephole, your brows furrowing in distress when all you could see was black—They were covering it. All the more reason not to open the door…
What if it’s a robber? Ridiculous, they don’t knock.
What if it’s just the neighbor? Why cover the peephole?
More and more did your mind swirl with endless possibilities, each one becoming less and less believable. Taking a long, deep breath, you doubled-checked the door-chain was on before slowly cracking it open. And as you attempted to peek through the sliver, nothing could’ve prepared you for the arm that forced its way through, startling you as you yelped, stumbling back as it made a grab at you.
Before you had the thought of shoving the door closed on the offender’s arm they grabbed the little chain, then yanked it clean out of the wall. To your terror, a dark hooded figure entered your home, head hung low, concealing their identity.
You began to hyperventilate, backing up to keep distance as they staggered further into your home before kicking the door closed behind them, effectively blocking you from the exit. Surely, someone heard your scream and would check in, or call the police. But, how long did you have before the intruder decided to make a move? Not to mention, your sleeping child just down the hall…
With that last thought in mind, you immediately steeled your nerves.
Even if you had to use your bare hands, you were going to do whatever it took to keep your baby out of harms way.
You reached for the closest weapon without taking your eyes off the figure, hands clasping onto a discarded umbrella that was leaned up against a closet door. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Taking a defensive stance, you prepared for what you assumed to be the inevitable.
“I-I don’t know who you are, or what you want…b-but if you don’t leave…my..my boyfriend will be home any minute! H-He knows how to fight, and he’ll fuck you up if you try anything!”
Your means of intimation fall on deaf ears. It were as if you hadn’t spoken at all. They just…stood there. Watching you from the darkness. That feeling, that hovering presence you’d been weary about all evening…there was no doubt in your mind it was because of this individual. Suddenly, they gave a watery chuckle, hand coming up to rub the lower half of their face as the chilling noise dissipated into soft snickers.
You sweatdropped. “I mean it! He’ll be here real soon, so you better get out of here before-”
“[_____]…” the figure finally rasped, voice heavy with an emotion you couldn’t decipher in the moment. You froze, eyes widening.
“…How the hell do you know my name?”
Without much urgency, they stepped forward into the light. Beneath the warm glow, it took you mere seconds to recognize the person standing before you. You gasped, trembling hands dropping the umbrella, it landing with a harsh clatter. Soft, mortified hitches in your breath echoed through the small space, memories flashing before your eyes as you covered your gaping mouth.
“M.. Ma..” you whimpered, throat tightening. A shell of a man, who gazed upon you with stormy eyes flooded with tears at the mere sight of you.
He gave another strained laugh, muttering to himself as he soaked you all in. “Needed to know.. Needed to know it was really you…”
Mikey eyed you up, intensely, eerily silent as he did so. Then, he took in the surroundings, the warmth, the interior, the smell of dinner—It truly felt like a home. A bitter pill to swallow once he reminded himself that you built it without him.
His sharp gaze returned to your stunned expression. He sneered.
“Must’ve been easy for you. To forget me and move on, just like that. Like I was nothing.”
You blinked, taken aback. All you could do was remain speechless, cemented to the ground with thoughts and questions racing in your head. Now matter how many times you opened your mouth, no sound would come out aside from choked whimpers.
“Do you know…how long I’d been searching for you? Been mourning for you?” He hissed through clenched teeth. “When you left, I thought… I thought someone had taken you. That I lost you all because I was too stubborn to say I’m sorry…”
As he spoke, Mikey slowly closed the space between you. The more he came into the light, the more you could see how the years had treated him. His cheekbones were more pronounced, the dark circles under his eyes as well. His lips were dry, cracked, his fair skin now ghoulishly pale. If not for the black hoodie you would’ve mistaken him as such; ghost of your past.
Your shoulders shook, hands hovering over your face as you gaped in disbelief. He’d been looking for you?
That night, that stupid fight you could barely remember…he made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. He pushed you away. Pushed so hard that you almost believed he really wouldn’t have cared if you dropped dead. You knew he didn’t mean it, knew it was just another dark impulse…but none of that mattered when all your pregnancy tests came back positive just hours prior.
That night, you made the decision for the sake of your daughter. And also, for his sake. At the time, you were certain he wasn’t ready to be a father. He was quick to rage, merciless, losing himself to the darkness you tried to protect him from. If you had stayed, you were certain Mikey would’ve never forgiven himself if he lost control in front of his own flesh and blood, if the child grew to resent him for something he struggled to control.
You thought you were doing him a favor…but it appears to have done the opposite.
“And this whole time…you’ve been here, alive. Playing fucking house with someone else.”
You stiffened. Someone else? Your visible confusion only irritated him further.
He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You said it yourself. Too bad he won’t be coming home anytime soon. I’ve already got Sanzu and the Haitanis looking around for the bastard. And when they find him, I’ll make him regret sticking his filthy dick inside you.”
Confusion morphed into realization. You did threaten him with said hypothetical boyfriend…But, that was before you knew it was him!
“Oh, Manjiro…” you whispered. He glared, scorned.
“Don’t you dare pity me. I mean, you got the family you always wanted, right? So who cares who it was with, right? Congratu-fucking-lations.”
You shook your head, exhaling deeply as you held your face in your hands. For years, he thought you dead. Then, when he received word of your appearance, he finds you with child. And not once did he consider that child to be his? It’s like…he couldn’t fathom the thought.
If only he had looked just a little bit closer, he would’ve seen that she had his eyes. How they resembled those pools of ink that used to shine with so much hope back in his youth, so playful and full of love…those same eyes that now gazed upon you with contempt.
It stung.
He thought so low, not only of himself, but of you as well.
Taking a deep breath to reel in your emotions, tears began to well up in your eyes. He assumed they were tears for your doomed lover, further breaking his heart as Mikey clenched his fists to the point of nearly drawing blood. Luckily, even though you struggled to find the right words, someone else happily found them for you.
“Papa..?”
Both of you instantly drew your attention on the toddler standing near the kitchen, one fist clutching her blanket while the other rubbed the sleep from her eye. You glanced at Mikey, and he was stiller than stone. His once dead-stare had morphed into what could only be described as incredulous. Surely, he heard her incorrectly…
With a sniffle, you crouched down to address her, offering a soft grin as you nodded earnestly. “That’s right, sweetheart. Papa’s finally come home.”
The little girl blinked sleepily, taking a second to reboot. But, as soon as the words registered, a bright smile stretched across her face as she excitedly rushed towards Mikey, throwing herself onto his legs and hugging them like a koala as she chirped, “Papa, home!”
Said man hobbled a bit at the force, arms windmilling as he caught himself to keep from falling backwards. He didn’t know what to do with himself, especially when those big, round pools of ink opened and stared right up into his soul. Mikey’s heart nearly stopped. With a hitch in his breath, the gangster did everything he could to hold his composure, looking between you and the child as you both gazed at him with so much warmth…it was suffocating.
Sensing he was overwhelmed, you reached down to scoop up the bubbly bundle, holding her close as you eyed Mikey, apprehensively.
He resembled a cornered animal—Muscles stiff, jaw tight, eyes wild. After a moment, Mikey began to slowly back away into the shadows of your home, conflicted, devastated. It wasn’t until his back hit the door did he eventually fall to his ass, of which caused your child to giggle at how silly he was being. However, all you could do was hold back tears, watching as the reality started to weigh down on a man who just discovered he was a father.
Nervous, you gently explained. “I didn’t leave you because of our spat, Jiro…and I never moved on. I just…thought that I’d be doing more harm than good sticking around when I found out I was pregnant…I didn’t want to add any more stress on your plate, so I…”
Mikey didn’t respond. He sat there, stare vast and unfocused. But, you knew he hung on to every word. So you continued. “I wanted to tell you. But…I wasn’t sure how. At the time, I believed you had stopped caring about me altogether. And to hear you’d been looking for me, I-I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you harbored all that guilt. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
Your daughter wiggled around in your hold, making small grunts in complaint. Her eyes were trained on his figure huddled in the dark, wanting to be acknowledged, wanting his attention. “Papa!”
Mikey flinched. He focused his gaze on the two you, haloed by the light emitting from the living room. You both were like salvation, reaching down to a broken sinner…How could she want anything to do with him? When he had missed so much already…
To keep from accidentally dropping her, you placed your daughter back on the ground, watching wearily as she wobbled all the way to Mikey, blanket in tow. You weren’t worried about him hurting her, far from it…if anything, he appeared to be the fragile one.
Eventually, she made it to her destination, standing before him with a curious, but eager expression as she rested a hand on his knee. Mikey watched her, took in all of her features, every last detail as he engraved it to memory. She was beautiful, just like her mother. One would think his genes didn’t stand a chance. But the eyes. That was all him. From his mother to his older brother to himself, there was no doubt in his mind that those were Sano eyes.
His lower lip quivered, reaching out hesitantly to caress her cheek. She didn’t cower away, merely babbled as she began patting his knee, allowing his thumb to rub over her chubby cheek. You clasped your hands over your mouth, growing even more emotional at the delicate moment. Mikey looked enamored already, eyes subtly sparkling from what you could see as they interacted.
“I-I told her stories, about you. And I made sure to show her photos, too. Old ones, but still you nonetheless. I wanted her to know who her father truly was. Despite everything else…”
Your daughter cooed, then placed her blanket in Mikey’s lap before climbing into it. Mikey didn’t dare move, rigid as she made herself comfortable. He looked up at you, looking for guidance, for reassurance. Your encouraging smile was enough for him to hesitantly place his hands on her small back for support, carefully adjusting so that she was stable. She laid her head on his chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, sighing contentedly.
And, for the first time in years, he smiled.
When you hadn’t seen her familiar pigtails bobbing around, or heard any of her excited chatter with the receptionist up front, worry couldn’t even begin to describe what you felt the moment you realize…your daughter wasn’t here.
As soon as the meeting looked like it was wrapping up, you politely excused yourself from the room. Masking your worry wasn't too difficult, but there's no doubt a couple people might've noticed the spring in your step as you exited. One of them being Rindou Haitani. He watched you speed down the hall with mild interest, corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly as he thumbed around on his phone beneath the table. Having been updating his older brother during the meeting while he was on his smoke break, he was more than eager to inform him of the storm that was no doubt heading his way.
Little did the younger Haitani know, he was already dealing with one.
"And then, Haruka-kun tries to take Momo-kun's bento box because she had cuter animal shapes, but Momo-kun already said no, and so Haruka-kun pushes Momo-kun, and then tries to take it! But I pushed him and hit him with my fist, like this," she clenched up her tiny fist and held it up to Ran before striking down on his forearm with all her might. It didn't even pitch. "Like that."
The lavender-eyed man merely gazed upon her with mirth. "Did you now?"
"Mmhm! And teacher got so mad, and said that she would tell Ma about me fighting, but she's stupid because Ma didn't pick me up today, and I told Haruka-kun if he snitches, I'll beat 'em up!"
Ran lowly whistled. "Quite the little menace, ain'tcha?"
She pumped her fists. "Yeah!" Then, she paused, holding a finger to her chin in thought. "Wait...what's a menace?"
"Ah, something you inherited from your old man." He ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure. Though her innocent jab earlier regarding his age still hit a sore spot, he was starting to like the sound of it. She, on the other hand, wasn't convinced.
"I already told you; Ma was on her happy juice when she said that. She said not to believe anything she says when she's on happy juice. It makes her do silly things."
Ran chuckled. He knew that all too well. The little girl wouldn't be in this world if not for your inability to hold your liquor. But judging based on how you've raised her so far, clearly you made the right decision keeping him in the dark.
He'll admit, he wasn't the best in terms of commitment. Throughout his day to day, Ran just didn't have the energy. With being in Bonten, keeping an eye out for his younger brother, handling business, dealing with numbskulls and disposing of their bodies, there was never a time to even consider settling down. One-night stands and on and off flings were the easiest choice. At least, until he stumbled upon you.
You were the whole package and more. Classy, independent, witty, and a looker to top it all off. When Bonten started collaborating with the organization you worked in, he couldn't help but to be drawn to you—Like a moth to a flame. It started out as the occasional bantering, trying to one-up the other, catch them off guard. Ran was smooth with his words but could never quite beat your sharp tongue. Thus, things escalated to something more flirtatious. Harmless, but it didn't take long before the months of tension between the both of you began boiling over...and throwing alcohol into the mix, it was the first time Ran finally felt like he had the upper hand. Seeing how poorly you handled just a few glasses of wine, it endeared him. Seeing a piece of you that no one else had the privilege to witness. Your sloppy side, the clumsy, whiny, touchy side. After that long, passionate night beneath the sheets, the one time you and Ran allowed yourselves the space to be vulnerable with one another...you found yourself pregnant. And Ran found himself being nonethewiser.
He wonders, if he hadn't left the next morning and completely ghosted you...would you have kept him in the picture?
Suddenly, his phone dings. Reaching back to pull it from his back pocket, Ran half expected it to just be another update on the meeting or Rindou cursing at him to hurry his ass back inside. But, it wasn't that at all. And at the sound of your kitten heels rushing out of the building and halting at the top of the steps, Ran didn't even need to look up to know who was glowering down from them.
"Hey, Ma! Guess what, the purple man isn't such a meanie after all!"
Ran snorted, finally looking up from his phone to greet the woman who not only still had his heart, but evidently his first child. You, on the other hand, weren't so thrilled to see him.
"Rika. Wait inside. Ma's got some words for the purple man."
He smirked. "Wanna say 'em over a glass of wine?"
"You son of a-!"
"Bad word!" Your daughter covered her ears. You flushed, your composure nearly slipping just by being in his prescence. Ran, immediately seeing the opportunity, teasingly pouts at you whilst covering her tiny hands with his larger ones, shielding her.
"Honey, please, not in front of the child. Can't have her repeating those dirty words at school, can we?"
You fumed, speaking through clenched teeth. "Haitani, as soon as I get her in this building, away from you, I swear to God, I'm gonna wring your neck."
He hummed, amused. "Well. Guess she didn't get her violent side from me after all. Speaking of which, did you know at school today-"
"Hey! No snitching!"
“...What did you say?”
You were hoping you heard the teacher wrong. Surely it was just your exhaustion taking the wheel. But, when her kind smile didn’t falter, nor did her gushes for the supposed “adorable display”, you immediately grew suspicious.
While heading home from work, you went to pick up your children from daycare. And when you arrived, the teacher merely informed you that it was already taken care of by your very handsome and very devoted husband.
“I-I think you’re mistaken. My boyfriend and I aren’t married…”
The teacher, finally coming back down to earth, tilted her head in confusion. “Eh? You aren’t?”
“Did he…say we were?”
“Well, no. I just assumed since it was easy to tell who he was here for. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.”
You choked on your spit. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.
You did everything in your power to keep from strangling the poor woman. Sure, she didn’t do anything wrong per say…but she sure did make a grave error. And your struggle to restrain your intrusive thoughts must’ve shown on your face from the way she placed a concerned hand on your arm. “Are you alright, miss? You look like you’re about to faint.”
“M-Mhm, yep, great, just peachy.” You squeaked through clenched teeth, sweatdrop on your forehead. “Could you um…confirm something for me?”
“Uh.? Er, sure. I’ll try my best.”
With tense shoulders and a tight smile, you asked, “Their…father…did his mouth have two scars in the corners?”
The teacher blinked, confused. Shouldn’t you already know that answer yourself?, she was probably thinking. And she would be right; you did know. But her simple, hesitant nod was the final nail in the coffin that was your delusion—Haruchiyo Sanzu had found you. And to make matters worse, he had the children.
Your smile faltered, twitching ever so slightly. Covering it with a forced chuckle, you cried, “Oh, that’s..wonderful! He’s always been self conscious about them, and I’m j-just.. beaming with joy that he’s embracing them more. Have a nice evening, Ms. Yuki.”
The teacher didn’t get a chance to respond as you quickly turned on your heel and began speed walking home. You’d apologize for your abrupt exit another day…right now there were more important matters to worry about. For instance—How on earth did Sanzu find you? How did he know about the twins and where they were? Oh, God…did he know about Satoru?
Dialing him up a few times only for the calls to go straight to voicemail weren’t reassuring in the slightest, having you rush across oncoming traffic just so you could avoid any further delays for your fraying nerves. You could see your apartment complex up ahead, heart thumping in your throat at the familiar, black SUV parked a couple blocks down. Had it not been for the heavily tinted windows and no license plates, you probably would’ve overlooked it. He knew where you lived. Stomach in knots, muscles stiff, nerves shot. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated. Your kids were safe at home, but at what cost? You stood in front of the building, rooted to the ground. Despite mentally preparing for this exact scenario for years, it all went down the drain the second you went to that daycare and discovered your children were missing.
It wasn’t until your phone vibrated did you snap out of your thoughts, shakily pulling the device out of your back pocket to check the notification.
from : unknown 1:06 pm “ hi, mama.~ ”
Your stomach twisted. Attached to the message were two photos.
The first photo was of your kids eating McDonald's in the kitchen, happily cheesing and waving at the camera. You couldn't hold your choked gasp, hand coming up to hold your quivering lower lip—They were safe.
The second photo...was of Satoru. Tied to a chair, gagged, and beaten senseless. And standing behind him, holding him by his hair so that he could pose for the camera, grinning like a cheshire cat...
Another message pops up. Your grip tightened around your phone.
from : unknown 1:09 pm " daddy's home.~ "
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#🍁wasabi#*weakly holds up to the light*#it...is...FINISHED#tokyorev#tokyo revengers#tokyorev x reader#tokyorev headcanons#tokyo revengers x reader#mikey x reader#mikey sano#manjiro x reader#manjiro sano#ran x reader#ran haitani#sanzu x reader#sanzu haruchiyo
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WAS IT 'CASUAL' WHEN...? — TWST 1ST YEARS
Headcanons on the 'casual' things you do with him that made him wish that there was something more between you.
CW 𓂃 sfw, gn!reader, reader is implied to fit in Deuce's clothes in his part, pining
CHARAS 𓂃 Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, and Sebek Zigvolt
AN 𓂃 mostly* edited now 😎👍
ACE TRAPPOLA — you slept in the same bed?
Ramshackle isn't exactly known for having the best facilities or furniture, and that is a fact Ace has to make peace with whenever he gets kicked out by Riddle. It's always a little too chilly at night and the floors still creak beneath his feet. Even with a makeover, half of the beds are broken and that stiff couch downstairs is your next best bet at getting some semblance of sleep.
You insisted you really didn't mind sharing a bed at all and Ace took you up on your offer. In his words, "if you say so then!" Just create an invisible partition down the middle and the two of you should be fine. Sure, yeah, that'll be infinitely more comfortable than the couch, and Ace absolutely agrees. He repeats the thought to himself over and over again— this is supposedly the better alternative, isn't it?
Yeah, totally. He tries to convince himself that it's really not a big deal for him to be inches away from you at night and feel your warmth spreading through the sheets. God, you'd think he's a weirdo if you woke up and caught him staring right now, but he could always twist it into a dumb joke about your sleeping face looking like an ogre. Consequently, he would have to watch your face twist in annoyance and pretend he wasn't watching every rise and fall of your chest. He would rather lose his magic entirely than admit the ugly truth and make himself vulnerable to you.
Ace does realize he's being embarrassingly sappy and romantic, and he's disgusted at himself for these thoughts, but he can't help it. He can't change the fact your lips look so soft and your eyelashes are so pretty. This is freaking him out so much more than it should. Does this really mean nothing to you? Do really only see him as a friend? Fine, then the two of you are just friends sharing a bed then!
It's really nothing! Ace was the one who joked about it months ago, after all. But things (and his feelings) have changed and he cannot ignore that. Back then it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but now it is and he cannot calm his heart down no matter how hard he tries.
You're right there. It's not the first time he had to share a bed with someone but it's different now because it's you. He did the math and the two of you are only 10 inches apart. Ace almost reaches for you in his weakest moment until he remembers that the two of you are supposedly just two friends sharing a bed. You're doing him a favor by sheltering him for the night, that's all.
Ace retracts his hand right away at the very last second. He might have as well taken the goddamn couch (lest either of you wake up in each other's arms).
DEUCE SPADE — he lent his clothes?
You came here with next to nothing. You had exactly one change of clothes and pocket lint for change, so Deuce, being the righteous and honorable student that he is, decided to lend you some of his clothes for the meantime. It's what a good friend would do! It's a temporary arrangement that would last only until Crowley spares enough change for you to buy another set of uniforms.
But this arrangement drags on for so long even when you have a functional closet and multiple sets of better-fitting clothes. Deuce never really noticed until recently that a third of your (albeit very limited) wardrobe actually belongs to him. But whenever you tug on his sleeves for his latest sweater, he doesn't have the heart to tell you no.
When he went home during break, his mom even noticed that certain sweaters and shirts had gone missing. "I left them at the college," he tells her as to not worry her. It's technically the truth— it's back with you in the college (and you're probably wearing them right now; the mental image is enough to fluster him all of the sudden when it never did before). He has to get them back eventually since those clothes are his. He's sure you wouldn't mind? Right?
Simply asking for them back is the difficult part for Deuce. You're there in front of him wearing one of his older shirts that fit snugly around your figure and he's at a loss for words. It's worn down and outright hideous as hell but the very first thought that comes to mind is that you look good in it.
Ah, yeah. You walk around campus on non-school days wearing his clothes 1/3rd of the time and nobody else knows that those jackets and shirts and sweaters and button-ups are all his. You make even the ugliest ones look good, or maybe it's because you're the wearer and you always looked good to him? Do his eyes need to be checked...? Deuce is tortured by these thoughts while merrily go about your day. You're laughing at something stupid that Grim said and he can't hear anything else. There's a fight in the courtyard but he can't see anything else. There's a midterm tomorrow but he can't think of anything else. You're too distracting.
When you finally do remember to return a shirt or two, Deuce tells you there's really no need to return them. He insists that they're better off with you, but you laugh and remind him that you're no longer the same pathetic charity case you were at the start of the year.
The truth is, your scent still lingers on recently returned shirts. It's the closest he'll get to being skin-to-skin with you, and Deuce is supposed to ignore that but he cannot. Or maybe he's the only one making this weird for the two of you because it doesn't seem to bother you in the slightest (and he's bothered by that).
But when Deuce looks at the recently returned shirts in his hands, he hopes he has a chance. He hopes you think of him as much as he thinks of you. He hopes the odds of him not actually liking you after all make your guts churn and set butterflies in your chest at the same time. He hopes he isn't the only one yearning for used shirts, lingering scents, and ghost touches. But at the same time, you've only ever asked these kinds of favors from him... Deuce doesn't want to assume anything, but a blush creeps upon his cheeks all the same and he continues to hope for more.
JACK HOWL — you played with his ears and tail?
Beastmen weren't a thing back in your world, so seeing them regularly made you morbidly curious about their animalistic features. Jack was easily the best candidate to satisfy your intrusive thoughts because just who else could you ask about this? Leona wasn't exactly an option and Ruggie might rope you into some scheme of his. And Jack owed you a favor, after all, so this is what you decided to ask of him.
Jack's ears twitched— did he hear you correctly? His face scrunches up in confusion because you barely knew each other for you to be asking something like this. How could you ask something so personal from him? It's in your innocently eager expression that he realizes what's going on... you just didn't know. Fine, it should mean nothing to you and thus he agrees to let you pet his tail and ears for five seconds. Maximum.
It's supposed to be a one time thing but he finds him involuntarily offering up his tail whenever you look him like that. He's not even sure how it got to this point. After all, there are romantic connotations of having your tail petted by someone else and... nevermind. Ruggie and Leona have started simultaneously teasing him over it the very moment they caught wind of this peculiar arrangement. It doesn't help that Jack's tail is particularly sensitive and reactive, but he keeps a straight face no matter how much it embarrasses him.
Jack doesn't understand why you're so fascinated by his tail and ears because there are so many others just like him. However, he supposes it's not an entirely terrible feeling, though, to have your fingers absentmindedly rake across his tail and hair as the two of you study. It's relaxing, even, but he won't tell you that. Jack will never tell you that it gives him goosebumps all over and makes him shiver whenever you play with his tail. Or that he's begun wondering what it would be like to have your hands elsewhere, or for him to touch you in similar ways in return.
He doesn't understand why he craves your company but doesn't question it either. All he knows is that your hands are so soft and gentle and that he likes the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile in satisfaction. And when you hum a soft tune as the gap between the two of you closes, he wonders if he's the only one feeling this tension.
"Again?" Jack huffs. The pretext of this being a silly favor has been long forgotten. He should probably tell you soon that you shouldn't be doing this, but you just look so pleased with yourself when the two of settle down in a lesser-known corner of the library. The routine persists, the cycle continues. Hours later, the both of you have gone through multiple bags of chips, two movies on his laptop, and his tail is now comfortably curled around your abdomen as you read a book and he tends to his beloved cactus.
Again? Jack silently asks himself whenever he sees your face in a crowd. Could the two of you spend hours in a comfortable silence while the unsaid implications haunt him? He's started to ask himself— were you just playing dumb at this point or just plain stupid? Or what if you had known all along and the two of you were just dancing around it?
EPEL FELMIER — you kissed him?
Epel eventually learns to use the way others perceive him to his advantage; there's strength in appearing to be weak and striking when the iron is hot. Still, he couldn't help but wish to be seen for his talents and strength instead of his beauty at the first glance. The first assumption everyone makes of him, for god's sake, is that he's a fragile little thing from a rich family, and, quite frankly, he's sick of it.
So he's secretly delighted when none of his charms worked on you and you yank him by the ear for even attempting. A few curse words and rough shoves later, both of you are on the floor, grappling and wrestling against each other. The two of you are laughing so hard and swearing so loudly that you'll probably wake up the rest of Pomefiore at this rate, but neither of you care. It's just the two of you right now grasping at each other like your life depended on it.
It's a nice change of pace to be openly exchanging insults instead of restraining himself. He enjoys the comfortable rhythm the two of you share— from all the brawls and the bantering and the hugs and to the kisses on the cheek. Yes, kisses. They started as simple thank you's after a few favors here and there, and just one of them is enough to make a mess out of Epel for weeks. Better yet, you only seem to be showering him with more and more of your attention and he relishes in it.
Ah, things are finally working out for him! He found someone he could confide in and he's sure that there's a spark between the two of you. By the end of the year, he might have someone to bring home and brag about to his relatives—
All the momentum halts when he sees you across the hall granting the rest of your friends the same levels of affection. From all the brawls to the bantering to the hugs and the kisses, none of those were ever solely his to take delight upon. It doesn't matter that he opened up to you about all his fears and insecurities because he was never special. You were just the kind of person who got along and felt comfortable with everyone around you, but Epel hates that he has no one to blame but himself. He willingly walked your warmth but it was never his to take.
It finally dawns upon him that you have never seen him in a romantic light and that was why you were so comfortable around him. In retrospect, the bond you two shared was more sibling-like than anything— and believe him when he says he's incredibly grateful that the two of you were that close —but it doesn't make it hurt any less to know that your affections never carried any romantic intentions after he had pinned for you for so long.
Even when he takes a step back, you're cruel in a roundabout way by continuing to be so kind and loving towards him. How was Epel supposed to make sense of your relationship after realizing he misunderstood you...?
And he also hates to admit this, but his self-confidence takes a huge blow from this. Epel genuinely thought he could be loved for who he was based on the time you spent together. It gnaws at him and eats him alive to finally know the truth, and sometimes he wishes he never found out at all.
SEBEK ZIGVOLT — you wrote him love letters?
So, Sebek asked (demanded) to be penpals...
It's all because Lilia told him it would be a good exercise of diplomacy, he insisted. As the young master's bodyguard, he will have to be as courteous as possible even in unpleasant company. He also rationalized, admittedly partly because of you, that forging bonds with magicless humans may be a worthwhile endeavor after all! It's all rather suspicious (and you suspect his real intentions have something to do with your friendship with Malleus), but Sebek has never been one to lie about his intentions. If anything, the popular opinion was that he's a little too honest and should learn a thing or two about holding back.
There's something very unconventional in sending handwritten letters in this day and age of modern technology, but also something very romantic and fantastical— much like the many fictional knights he had read about. It helps a lot that he's not directly confronted by the fact you are very much a magicless human who shouldn't be in NRC whenever he spills out his heart's contents unto multiple pages. It was a way for him to release his frustrations, celebrate his achievements, and talk about the dull, little things thats happened in his day-to-day life to someone who listened.
And listen you did. Turns out, when you're not subjected to his 1000 decibel shouting, Sebek is a rather earnest guy who worked hard and acknowledged others who also worked equally as hard no matter their disposition. To say the least, you understand why Lilia found it so entertaining to tease him.
It completely flies over his head that you had been flirting with him for months through these letters. Your everyday interactions with each other had been completely normal, so how was he supposed to notice?! It takes multiple rereads and many late-night discussions with the other Diasomnia dormers to decode and understand all the double entendres and hidden 'i love you's' in each and every letter. It was so needlessly difficult, but Lilia laughs in his face and pats him at the back for a job well-done.
"There's no way," he thinks to himself late at night and finds himself doubting Lilia's claims for once. But when Sebek steals a glance in your direction and you smile back in return, he's never felt weaker in his knees. You're absolutely and undeniably magic-less... but somehow you had casted a spell that made his chest tighten and shut him up. He hadn't even realized how much time he was spending with you and thinking about you when he wasn't.
Except nothing has changed in-person. You're acting like you hadn't meticulously hidden your affections for him in those letters, and he was starting to seriously doubt all of it. Yeah, were you event smart enough to pull off all that? As some magic-less human?
Actually... Sebek realizes that you are capable of outsmarting him after getting to know you much better through those letters. He's never been one to deny where credit it was due. Now, Sebek's just deeply ashamed that he failed to accurately assess your character before making judgements based on superficial traits. He knows better than anyone that you're witty, charming, brave, kind, beautiful, ambitious—
Oh no.
Oh no.
Sebek simply explodes on the spot once he realizes that he had been oblivious to his own feelings for you too. He had thoroughly examined every aspect of this conundrum except from within. Quite embarrassing from an esteemed knight of the prince of nocturnal fae to be this slow, really.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#jack howl x reader#epel felmier x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#ace trapola#deuce spade#jack howl#epel felmier#sebek zigvolt#i hope my favorite isn't too obvious el oh el
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right here, yet so far away | oneshot
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: exes to lovers, ceo! jungkook x kindergarten teacher! reader, angst, smut, fluff
Word Count: 19.4k (my hands slipped girl)
Chapter Warnings: mature language, unprotected sex (pls be safe), oral (f. receiving), mentions of an accident, coma, violence (lmk if i missed anything)
A/N: hello cuties. this is a special post in honor of me hitting 300 followers. i cant believe the immense support i have received when it's only been a week. thank you so much for consuming my work and supporting me. also please note, the text in italics are for dream sequences or flashbacks. P.S i know people don't just instantly recover after a long coma, but in this story it's just heavy plot armor, so kindly understand.
//
“But baby… please just…” Jungkook’s voice cracks as he jogs to catch up, his hand reaching out for yours. You swat it away without hesitation, the sting of rejection hitting him harder than any words ever could.
“Jungkook, stop it.” you say firmly, your tone sharp enough to cut through his soul. He freezes, his wide eyes searching yours for answers.
“But baby, just tell me why? We were doing so good… just yesterday, you... you said you loved me. Please, you can’t just... leave like this.”
He tries to observe your expression, hoping to convince himself that this is just some cruel joke. But there’s no softness in your eyes, no flicker of doubt. Only a cold, unyielding resolve.
“Don’t you understand?” you scoff, folding your arms tightly across your chest. “I’m tired of you, Jungkook. I’m tired of us.” His breath hitches, disbelief flashing across his face. “Stop. Don’t say that. You don’t… you don’t mean that.”
“I do.” you insist, each word a dagger to his heart. “I mean every word of it. I’m done with you. This whole relationship… it’s not going anywhere. It’s a waste of time, and I just… I can’t, Jungkook. We have to break up.”
His shoulders slump, and his chest rises and falls as though the air has been knocked out of him. He stands frozen, staring at you, desperate to find some hint of hesitation in your expression. But all he sees is resolve… or at least, what you’re determined to show him.
“Why?” he whispers, his voice barely audible.
You stare at him blankly. "Because I don’t love you anymore.” you reply, your voice unwavering. Jungkook flinches as if struck. His lips part, but no words come out. And when you turn around and walk away, the sound of your retreating footsteps echoes in his ears, louder than any goodbye, as your body disappears into the darkness.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
The shrill wail of the alarm slices through the silence, and Jungkook's eyes harshly open. He gasps for air, his chest heaving as the nightmare clings to him like a second skin.
It’s always the same nightmare. The same scene. The same words. The same look on your face. The same crushing weight in his chest.
He drags a hand down his face, the coolness of his palm doing little to soothe him. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat, and he blinks up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.
For a moment, he just sits there, the silence of his apartment wrapping around him like a cold blanket. A single tear trickles down his temple as images of you flash in his mind, one after the other. His phone buzzes on the nightstand... a reminder of the meetings and deadlines awaiting him, but he doesn’t move.
Four months. It’s been four months since you walked away, and he still doesn’t understand why.
He remembers the day of the break up like it was yesterday. The scene is so vividly planted in his mind that he even sees it in his sleep. He can’t get rid of the way you looked at him… like you despised the sight of him, like you truly didn’t love him anymore.
He still doesn’t have his answers. Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did your heart just decide it didn’t want him anymore? The questions linger in his mind, unanswered, gnawing at him like a constant ache he can’t escape.
Jungkook remains rooted on his mattress, the weight of memories pressing down on him as he recalls the first time he saw you. It was over two years ago, but when he recollects it, it feels so vivid, like it's happening in the present.
He had been reluctant to attend an event that was scheduled at a local kindergarten nearby. Exhausted from a long flight back from the States, he’d tried to get out of it. But his assistant, understanding the importance of his role as the CEO, insisted that he'd attend it regardless.
His company wasn’t just about selling food products, it was dedicated to promoting healthy living, especially for children. They organized events to educate kids on the importance of good nutrition, partnered with schools to provide nutritious meals, and created fun, interactive programs to get children excited about eating right.
Though Jungkook wasn’t keen on spending his afternoon with a room full of energetic kids, he went anyway. The workshop had already started and the moment he stepped into the classroom, ready to grab the attention of the kids, he suddenly spotted you.
You were standing at the front of the room, a soft smile on your face as you engaged with the children, laughing with them and cracking jokes. Your energy was infectious, and the way you moved with such ease around the kids made his heart skip a beat. There was something so warm and genuine about you, something that immediately drew him in.
It wasn’t just the way you looked... though you were undeniably beautiful, but how you carried yourself, the kindness that radiated from you, and how at home you seemed in this world of tiny hands and laughter. Jungkook had never been the type to believe in love at first sight, but the moment his eyes landed on you, something inside him shifted.
He had been smitten, captivated in a way he couldn’t explain. His thoughts had scattered as he watched you, his mind far from the speech he was supposed to be giving. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had captured his attention, and yet he couldn’t look away.
It wasn’t until later, when he was preparing to leave, that he finally found the courage to approach you. He had been nervous, unsure of what to say. But the moment you looked at him, a simple greeting from you was all it took.
Your smile was enough to melt any lingering doubt he had. He introduced himself, his voice slightly shaky but confident enough to make a lasting impression. And you, with that same gentle smile, responded in kind, immediately making him feel at ease.
He had no idea at that moment that this chance encounter would change his life in the best way possible.
Now, laying in his bed, Jungkook smiles bitterly, remembering how it all started. How he had the most beautiful relationship with you for around a year and three months. How one decision, one visit to that kindergarten, led to everything he lost. He still can't understand why you left him the way you did, without explanation, without any chance for him to fix whatever went wrong. The image of your face that day... the coldness, the finality, haunts him still.
Despite the whirlwind of thoughts clouding his mind, Jungkook forces himself to push them aside. He stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, allowing the weight of the memories to settle, before finally making the decision to get up.
He knows he can’t linger in this state forever. The day is waiting for him, and he can’t afford to let his emotions hold him back. With a sigh, he swings his legs off the bed and plants his feet firmly on the floor. The familiar coldness of the hardwood beneath his feet is grounding, and for a brief moment, he feels a sense of control over the chaos in his mind.
The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow on his room. He moves to the bathroom, running cold water over his face, hoping it will somehow shake the fog from his thoughts. It’s a futile attempt, but it’s enough to snap him into the present, if only for a few minutes.
Jungkook stares at his reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. His mind is still heavy, but he’s learned over the years to compartmentalize, especially when it comes to work. He’s the CEO and his company can’t afford to be distracted by his personal life. No matter how much his heart aches, there’s a bigger picture to focus on.
//
You glance at the kids, focused on their coloring books, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. They’re adorable, each one lost in their own little world, their tiny hands gripping crayons as they carefully add color to their drawings. You walk around the room, quietly observing their work, admiring the little bursts of creativity.
As you pass by the window, your gaze drifts outside, where a few children are running and playing on the soccer field. You let out a sigh, your fingers subconsciously tracing the pendant of your necklace.
It’s the only thing that connects you to him, to the one that got away, to the one you let slip right through your fingers, even when it hurt to do so. You close your eyes for a brief moment, and his image floods your mind. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled, the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence.
You miss him so badly, your chest tightening with the weight of it. But you push the feeling down, swallowing the ache in your heart. You remind yourself why it had to end, why you had to walk away. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
As you stare at the bleachers stand by the green field, a vivid and unpleasant memory creeps up your mind.
"Break up with him."
Junghyun’s voice was calm, his eyes fixed on the empty soccer field ahead. The chilly evening breeze brushed past your hair, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your chest. You turned to look at him, disbelief written all over your face.
"What?" you asked, your voice carrying a mix of confusion and irritation. Junghyun was Jungkook's older brother and his unexpected visit had left you completely on edge.
You had only met this man once before, a fleeting encounter when you accidentally bumped into him outside Jungkook’s apartment. Seeing him now, unannounced at your workplace, caught you completely off guard.
"Break up with him, Y/N." he repeated, turning to face you this time. His gaze was piercing, his tone unyielding. "You know you two belong to completely separate worlds. Jungkook isn’t in love... he’s just infatuated. And frankly..." he continued, his voice dropping with disdain. "You’re nothing but a distraction."
You stared at him, your mind reeling from the audacity of his words. The traffic noise in the far distance felt like static compared to the ringing in your ears. "Are you serious right now?" you managed to say, your tone sharper than you intended.
Junghyun didn’t flinch. "I’m completely serious. Do you think this little fling of yours will lead to anything? Jungkook has responsibilities... he has a company to run, a legacy to uphold. You’re a kindergarten teacher, Y/N. A sweet girl, sure, but not someone who can keep up with him."
His words stung, but you refused to show it. "Jungkook loves me." you stated firmly, your voice unwavering. "I know how he feels about me. So whatever you’re trying to pull, it won’t work."
Junghyun scoffed, shaking his head. "Love? You call this love? He’s smitten, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last. You’ll only hold him back."
You clenched your fists, your chest tightening with frustration. Every instinct in you wanted to yell at him, to tell him how wrong he was, how little he knew about what you and Jungkook shared.
You breathed heavily, your eyes narrowing as they locked onto him. "I'm going to pretend we never had this conversation." you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil bubbling inside. Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel, stepping off the bleacher stands and ready to head back inside.
“Hanyung Hospital.” Junghyun’s voice suddenly rang out, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched, and your eyebrows furrowed as your back remained turned to him. A wave of unease settled over you, his words striking a chord you wished he hadn’t found.
“Isn’t that where your brother is admitted?” His tone was sharp, laced with a smirk you didn’t need to see to recognize.
Slowly, you turned to face him, your heart racing as panic flashed across your features. Had this man done a background check on you? Your mind reeled at the thought, fear and anger coursing through you in equal measure.
Junghyun’s smirk deepened as he saw the panic etched on your face. “Guess I know a little too much about you, sweetheart.” he said smoothly, his words dripping with a smug satisfaction.
Your fists clenched at your sides, but your voice caught in your throat. The realization that he had gone to such lengths made your skin crawl, and a sense of dread settled in your stomach.
"See, this is the problem with you lowlifes..." Junghyun sneered, his voice dripping with disrespect. "You have so many weaknesses, yet you never stop dreaming big." He let out a cruel laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement at your stunned silence.
You stared at him, your throat tightening as if the words you wanted to say were caught in a vice. "I heard he’s been in a coma for four years." he continued, his tone casual, almost mocking.
Your eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. The mention of your brother... the very core of your vulnerability, felt like a dagger twisting in your heart.
“Maybe I should make sure this coma lasts forever—”
"What?" The word burst out of you before he could finish. Panic surged through you, visible in the way your breathing quickened. Junghyun’s smirk widened, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at your reaction. He relished the fear and desperation etched across your face, feeding off the control he had over the situation.
"Leave my brother out of this." you managed to say, your voice low but firm, fists clenched tightly at your sides. "This has nothing to do with him."
You force yourself to regulate your breathing, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions threatening to spill over. But deep down, you know exactly what this man is doing. And it feels like a threat too enormous to escape.
Junghyun’s smirk only deepens, his silence more unsettling than words. It’s as though he revels in watching you squirm under the weight of his insinuations.
Your mind races, every possible scenario flashing before you. The influence Jungkook’s family wielded wasn’t just intimidating, it was terrifying. They were rich, powerful, and connected in ways you could only imagine.
For all you know, they could probably make someone disappear without a trace. And standing face-to-face with Junghyun, you think that's your chilling reality right now.
You swallow hard, meeting his gaze with as much resolve as you can muster, but the unease in your chest lingers. You feel trapped, cornered by an enemy who knows just where to strike to hurt you the most.
"Well, sweetheart, I want to leave him out of this too..." Junghyun sighs, his tone mockingly sympathetic. "And you know exactly what you need to do for that to happen."
His words strike like a hammer, each syllable weighing heavier than the last. You feel your whole world collapsing around you, the walls closing in with no way out. You feel suffocated. Cornered. Powerless.
Your gaze drops to your feet, tears pooling in your eyes despite your desperate attempts to hold them back. The fight within you slowly crumbles, leaving only the unbearable weight of his ultimatum.
You clench your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fight to keep yourself composed.
"I'll break up with him." you whisper finally, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. A tear slips down your cheek, the first crack in the dam as the reality of your surrender settles in.
Junghyun steps down from the bleacher stands, his slow footsteps growing louder in your ears. You don’t move, your feet rooted to the ground as if the weight of your decision has physically anchored you.
He stops in front of you, and you feel his presence, his amusement radiating like poison. A soft laugh escapes him, sending shivers down your spine.
"Now that was easy, wasn’t it?" he mocks, patting your head like you’re a child who’s just followed orders. Your jaw tightens, teeth gritting at the humiliating gesture, but you remain silent.
"And this goes without saying, but... Jungkook should never hear about this encounter." Junghyun says, his voice low and taunting as he steps closer.
You don't respond, your throat too tight and your mind too fogged with fear and anger to formulate a reply.
He smirks at your silence before brushing past you, deliberately bumping into your shoulder as if to remind you just how insignificant he believes you to be. The force is slight, but it feels heavier, laden with the weight of everything he’s taken away from you in the matter of mere minutes.
The chilly breeze cuts through the quiet, and you feel it settle deep into your bones, a reminder of just how cold the world can be.
"Miss Choi!" a little voice pierces through the haze of your flashback, pulling you back to reality. Your eyes shift from the bleacher stands outside to the source of the voice. A little girl waves her broken color pencil in the air, her tiny face scrunched in distress.
You force a smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you walk towards her. "Give me that, let me sharpen it for you, Sera." you say softly, patting her head. She nods cutely, her eyes wide with trust and gratitude.
You exhale deeply, the weight in your chest still pressing down as you make your way to the trash can. As the sharpener scrapes against the pencil, you think to yourself. Stop dwelling on the past.
You knew how deeply you felt for Jungkook. He was more than just a fleeting love... he was a part of you, your safe place. But the weight of Junghyun's threat had been too much to bear. It wasn’t a fight you could win, not against soemone as powerful as him.
The memory of that day gnaws at you, the helplessness, the bitterness of making a decision you despised with every fiber of your being. But what choice did you have?
Handing the pencil back to Sera, you muster another soft smile. Her joyful expression tugs at your heart, a stark contrast to the storm inside you.
All you can do now is hope that Jungkook is living a happy life, far from the shadows of the truth that forced you apart.
//
Jungkook adjusts his position in the sleek leather chair, trying to focus on the ongoing meeting. The conference room hums with the low murmur of voices as his team discusses the logistics of their next community outreach initiative.
The large screen at the front displays a vibrant presentation, but his mind drifts, struggling to stay anchored in the moment.
“Mr. Jeon.” Eunwoo, the Chief Operating Officer, speaks up, pulling him back to reality. “We’re finalizing the details for the event at the Sunflower Orphanage this weekend.” he says, his tone calm but purposeful.
“It’s part of our ‘Healthy Futures’ program.” Eunwoo continues, “Where we teach the kids about nutrition and provide them with tools to build healthier habits.”
Jungkook nods, his jaw tightening slightly. He taps his pen against the notepad in front of him, the blank page mirroring his lack of focus. “Good. Ensure we send enough materials for the interactive sessions. I’ll review the activity plans later today.”
Eunwoo presses on. “We’re also organizing a cooking demonstration for the older kids and distributing care packages with nutritious snacks and recipe guides. It might be a good idea for you to attend. I think the kids would really enjoy meeting you.”
Jungkook exhales softly, running a hand through his hair. Public appearances at these events are part of his responsibility, something he takes seriously. Yet, the thought of being surrounded by bright-eyed children feels heavier than usual, a strange weight pressing against his chest.
“I’ll check my schedule.” he replies, his tone measured, masking the unease he can’t quite shake.
As the meeting concludes, Jungkook steps out of the conference room, loosening his tie as he makes his way towards his office. The familiar click of shoes on the polished floor follows close behind, signaling his secretary, Jimin, is trailing him.
“Your schedule is free, Mr. Jeon.” Jimin remarks, a teasing edge in his voice. “It’s literally the weekend.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, letting out a long sigh. “I know, but I just don’t feel like going.” he mutters, his stride purposeful as he heads towards his cabin.
Jimin quickens his pace to match Jungkook’s, his tone light but persistent. “The kids would love it, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s your responsibility.”
Jungkook groans inwardly, knowing there’s no winning an argument when Jimin uses that reasoning. “Fine.” he relents, glancing over his shoulder with a pointed glare. “But... you’re coming with me.”
“Of course.” Jimin quips with a smirk, unfazed. “I go wherever my boss goes.”
Jungkook shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself, before pushing open the door to his cabin. “You’re insufferable.” he mutters, disappearing inside. Jimin grins to himself, adjusting his tie. “It’s part of the job.” he mutters quietly before heading back to his desk.
//
The familiar scent of antiseptic and faint floral air freshener envelops you as you step into the hospital. You glance around, taking in the sight of doctors briskly walking in their white coats, nurses tending to charts, and patients navigating the lobby with family members by their sides. The soft hum of conversations and the occasional beep of monitors create a somber yet steady rhythm.
You make your way to the reception desk, offering a small smile to the woman behind the counter. Her face lights up with recognition.
“You’re early today.” she notes gently. You nod, your expression soft. “I just missed Beomgyu.” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. She smiles warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. “Go ahead.” she says, motioning towards the elevator.
You thank her with a brief smile before turning and stepping into the elevator, pressing the button to take you to the floor where your brother’s room is.
The soft chime of the elevator brings you back to reality as the doors slide open. You walk down the familiar corridor, each step feeling heavier as you approach his room. Pushing the door open, your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on Beomgyu. His motionless body lies on the bed, the faint hum of medical equipment the only sign of life. Four years. It’s been four long years, and he hasn’t moved an inch.
You sit down in the chair next to his bed, your hands trembling as you reach for his. His hand is cold in yours, and the weight of it brings tears to your eyes. But you blink them away, determined to stay strong.
“Hey, Gyu.” you whisper, brushing your thumb gently over his knuckles. Your voice is soft, filled with a bittersweet mix of hope and sorrow. “I’m here.”
No matter how many times you see him like this, it never gets easier. Each visit feels like a fresh wound, a new wave of pain crashing over you. He was your only family and the sight of his still body, the steady beep of the monitor, and the faint rise and fall of his chest... it all feels both familiar and unbearable. Every time, it’s as if a tiny piece of your heart breaks all over again.
As you stare at his face, a sigh escapes your lips, heavy with the weight of countless unshed tears. "Gyu..." you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "It’s getting so hard." Your words falter, carried by the quiet hum of the machines that have become the soundtrack of his existence.
"No matter what I do... I just... I just can’t stop thinking about him." you confess, closing your eyes as the first tear escapes, tracing a slow, burning path down your cheek. Your grip on Beomgyu’s hand tightens, your thumb brushing over his knuckles in slow, rhythmic motions. Though his hand remains lifeless, you hold on as if it’s your last tether to sanity, as if somehow he can feel your anguish.
Maybe he hears me, you think, clinging to the hope that keeps you returning to this room day after day. "I miss him so much." you murmur, your voice cracking under the weight of those words. The sob that escapes your lips feels like a betrayal, exposing just how deeply the pain has taken root.
Beomgyu never met Jungkook... yet, in your heart, you know that if he ever did... he would have absolutely loved him.
You remember that one day you brought Jungkook here, to visit Beomgyu, his hand firmly holding yours as you led him down these sterile hallways.
He had sat beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your trembling frame, as you told him about the accident that had stolen Beomgyu’s vibrant spirit and left him in this suspended state. Jungkook’s presence had been an anchor that day, steady and reassuring, his soft murmurs giving you the courage to speak through your tears.
And then, there was that promise. You can still hear your own voice, shaky but determined, as you looked into Jungkook’s eyes. "When Beomgyu wakes up, you’ll be the first to know." The memory feels like a lifetime ago, a fragment of a world where hope felt tangible and love wasn’t wrapped in layers of regret.
Now, that promise lingers like a ghost, haunting you with its impossibility. The weight of it presses against your chest, suffocating in its quiet accusation.
You lower your head, your tears falling silently onto the sterile sheets, wishing for a reality where things could have been different... where Beomgyu would wake up, and Jungkook would still be yours to call.
//
After spending about forty minutes sitting by your brother’s side, you feel the weight of time press down on you. With a reluctant sigh, you lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his cool forehead. The stillness of the room wraps around you like an unwanted embrace, amplifying the ache in your chest.
You stand, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him, his face so serene yet painfully distant. Finally, you force yourself to turn away, the sharp pull of grief hurting you even as your feet carry you towards the door.
The hospital hallways stretch before you, illuminated by fluorescent lights that feel too bright for the heaviness clouding your heart. The muted chatter of families and nurses echoes faintly around you, but you tune it out, your focus on the floor ahead.
Every step feels heavy, yet familiar... grief walking alongside you like an old companion. You’re lost in thought, your mind lingering on memories you can't quite hold onto, when the sharp ring of your phone jolts you back to the present.
You pause, fishing the device out of your bag. The name on the screen makes a faint smile touch your lips. "Hey, Joonie." you greet, your tone soft but warm.
“Oh my god Y/N...Hi... where have you been?” Namjoon’s voice filters through, steady yet tinged with his usual concern. “I was just visiting Beomgyu.” you reply, stepping into the elevator as the doors slide open.
“Ah...” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a gentler note. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“No, not at all.” you assure him, leaning against the elevator wall. “I was just about to leave anyway. What’s up?” There’s a slight pause on the other end before he continues talking. “I wanted to check if you’re coming to the orphanage this weekend. You know... for the volunteering session.”
The mention of the orphanage brings a warmth to your chest. Your lips curve into a genuine smile as you think of the place that’s come to feel like a second home. “Of course I’ll be there.” you reply without hesitation.
“That's great!!” Namjoon says, a hint of relief in his tone. “Mrs. Lee mentioned there’s going to be some kind of workshop for the kids, though I’m not really sure what it’s about.”
You hum thoughtfully, stepping out of the elevator as it dings open on the ground floor. “A workshop? That sounds interesting. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what it's about.” you muse, the faint hum of curiosity threading through your voice.
Namjoon chuckles lightly. “Yeah, seems like it. Anyways, you get home safe, Y/N-ah. I'll see you on the weekend.” he says. “See you Joonie... Bye.” you reply, your smile lingering as the call ends.
As you slip your phone back into your bag and step into the cool evening air, a quiet sense of purpose washes over you. The orphanage, specifically, the Sunflower Orphanage, holds a deeply rooted place in your heart.
It’s not just a building, it’s a chapter of your life, a part of your story written alongside your brother, Beomgyu as the two of you grew up there and navigated a world that often felt too vast and too indifferent.
Volunteering there every weekend for the past month with Namjoon hasn’t just been about giving back to the place that shaped you, it’s become a way to honor the struggles you and Beomgyu once faced.
It’s a way of making peace with the past while helping to build a brighter future for the children still living it. The act of helping others has started to feel like a balm for your soul, a small piece of healing in a journey that has felt insurmountable at times.
More than that, it’s helped you stay busy, distracted, keeping your mind from wandering too often to the void that has been lingering in your life for the past four months, an emptiness you’re not ready to confront fully yet.
Every smile from the kids, every hug, every story they share with you reminds you why you’ve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.
Now, being able to follow your dream and also volunteer at the very orphanage you grew up in, doing your best to give these children the care and love you once longed for, feels profoundly rewarding.
There’s a bittersweet comfort in walking the same halls you once did, now as a volunteer instead of a resident. You find joy in helping the kids paint their dreams on blank canvases, in reading stories that spark their imaginations, and in simply being a presence they can rely on.
The Orphanage, with its chipped walls and resilient spirit, has become more than a part of your history... it’s a part of your healing, too.
//
Saturday
"Shit, shit." you mutter under your breath, hastily paying the cab driver before dashing towards the entrance of the orphanage. You were supposed to be here early today, especially since you knew there was a workshop planned for the kids.
Mrs. Lee had mentioned needing help with the setup and cleanup, and you’d eagerly offered. But luck hadn’t been on your side. First, your original cab broke down, forcing you to find another. Then, traffic decided to conspire against you, dragging out what should’ve been a quick journey into an agonizing wait.
As you ran up the steps at the entrance, slightly out of breath, your eyes catch on something that brings you to an abrupt halt. A large banner hangs above the double doors, bold letters printed across it. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.
“No way...” you whisper, realization dawning like a bucket of ice water poured over your head as you read the banner. “This is… Jungkook’s workshop?”
You stand frozen, trying to process what you’re seeing. The placards stationed around the entrance leave no room for doubt. Each one bears the unmistakable logo of his company. The presentation materials stacked neatly by the door, the branded posters, and even the staff moving equipment inside all scream his involvement.
You inhale sharply, the air catching in your throat. Of course, it had to be here. Of all the orphanages in the city, the one you’ve been volunteering at for the past month had to be the very place where Jungkook... your ex boyfriend, Jungkook... is hosting a workshop. The universe really has a twisted sense of humor sometimes.
“Fuck.” you mutter, closing your eyes and trying to calm the storm brewing in your chest. You press a hand against the doorframe to steady yourself, taking deep breaths to fight off the anxiety creeping up your spine.
Your mind races with questions you’re not sure you want answers to. Is he here? Or is this one of those events where his employees take the lead while he stays behind the scenes? Should you turn around and leave before anyone notices, or would that make things worse?
You glance back at the cab, still idling by the curb. For a fleeting second, the idea of jumping back in and leaving tempts you. But then you hear the sound of children’s laughter filtering through the open doors, mingling with the excited chatter of the staff, and you know you can’t just leave.
Bracing yourself, you take another deep breath and step inside, your heart pounding harder with each step. The familiar warmth of the orphanage wraps around you, but today it feels heavier, tinged with the tension you’re carrying. You repeat a silent mantra, trying to ground yourself. Stay professional. This is about the kids. Nothing else matters.
“I’ll just… I’ll just pretend I don’t know him.” you mutter under your breath, nodding to yourself as your footsteps echo in the hallway.
//
As you step into the bustling main hall, your eyes land on Namjoon almost immediately. The minute he spots you too, it doesn’t take long for him to weave his way through the crowd towards you, his expression a mix of shock and concern. “Y/N…” he begins, his voice low but urgent as he reaches you. “I had no idea this was going to be his workshop.” The disbelief in his tone mirrors your own feelings.
You throw your head back, a groan escaping your lips. “I know. What the hell am I supposed to do? Is he really here, though? Or is it just his team running the workshop?” you ask, a flicker of hope creeping into your voice as you glance at him.
Namjoon hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he’s trying to cushion the blow. “Unfortunately…” he starts, his tone apologetic. “He’s here. I just saw him talking to Mrs. Lee a few minutes ago.” You close your eyes, rubbing your temples. “This is so, so, so not fair.” you mutter, your frustration bubbling over.
“Hey…” Namjoon’s voice softens as he places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. His calm presence is like an anchor in the midst of your swirling emotions. “You’re going to be fine. I know breaking up with him was hard for you, but right now... the best you can do is just stay professional. Pretend like you don’t know him and I’m sure he won’t approach you… I hope.” he adds with a small, uncertain smile.
You let out a shaky sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. Namjoon’s logic makes sense, but it does little to calm the storm brewing inside you. “I haven’t seen him in four months, Joon.” you admit, your voice shaky. “And now, of all times, I have to see him? Here?”
Namjoon offers you a sympathetic look, his hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “I know it’s hard, but I know you’ve got this. Just try your best to avoid him.”
You nod slowly, though you’re far from convinced. This isn’t a situation you can simply walk away from. Jungkook’s presence is inevitable now, and the thought of seeing him again, after everything, sends a whirlwind of emotions crashing through you.
You're aware Jungkook won't be expecting to see you here today and you can't help but wonder what his reaction will be when he actually ends up seeing you. Would his expression shift the moment he spots you? Would it be one of cold indifference, barely a flicker of acknowledgment? Or something sharper like anger, disappointment, perhaps even sadness? The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.
Shaking your head, you force yourself to brush the questions aside. There’s no time to dwell on this right now. You take a steadying breath and look around the busy hall. It’s high time you start helping out. After all, you’re already late, and the least you can do is make up for lost time by pitching in wherever you’re needed.
//
Once all the kids are settled in their seats, their excitement bubbling over in the form of giggles and whispers, you step back, making your way to the back of the room. Namjoon is already there, his arms crossed loosely as he leans against the wall. You take your place beside him, exhaling deeply, trying to calm your heart and mind.
As the workshop begins, your eyes inevitably drift to the front of the room. Jungkook stands there, effortlessly commanding attention. He’s dressed sharply but casually, the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt exposing his tattooed forearm. His presence is magnetic, and it’s no surprise that even the youngest kids are riveted as he begins to speak.
“This program is called 'Healthy Futures'.” he starts, his tone warm and inviting. “It’s about giving you the knowledge and tools to take care of your health. Eating the right food, staying active, and understanding how to take care of your bodies... it’s not just important now, but it’ll help you for years to come.”
He gestures to a large poster board displaying colorful illustrations of fruits, vegetables, and simple meal plans. “Today, we’ll talk about nutrition, and we’ll even have some fun activities to show you how to make smart food choices. You’ll see how easy it can be to make meals that are both delicious and good for you.”
The kids are wide-eyed, soaking up every word. Jungkook’s ability to connect with them is undeniable. As he dives into the presentation, explaining concepts in simple, engaging terms and peppering his talk with questions to keep the kids involved, a small smile tugs at your lips.
You watch as he crouches down to a child’s level, handing them a flashcard and encouraging them to name the food group it belongs to. The way his eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm when the child gets it right is a sight that momentarily softens the ache in your chest.
You can’t help but smile, even if it’s bittersweet. Seeing him like this... passionate, caring, and entirely in his element... reminds you of the man you fell in love with. His natural charm, the way he effortlessly makes others feel seen and valued, is just as captivating now as it was then.
Namjoon nudges you gently. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low. You nod again, your gaze fixed on Jungkook. “Yeah.” you whisper, though the lump forming in your throat makes it a struggle to get the word out. “I’m fine.” you say.
//
As Jungkook wraps up his talk, his voice is steady and warm, a reflection of the effort he’s poured into making this workshop meaningful. “Alright, kids, now it’s time for the fun part...” he announces with a grin.
“My team is going to help you make a simple, healthy snack, something delicious and easy that you can make yourselves... so follow them and they'll guide you through the process." he says.
The children erupt in cheers and applause, their excitement echoing through the hall. Jungkook’s smile widens at their enthusiasm, the earlier reluctance he felt about being here melting away. It’s moments like these that make everything worth it. Seeing their faces light up is a reward far greater than any professional accolade.
As the kids begin to disperse, following the other employees out of the hall, Jungkook takes a moment to glance around, his eyes scanning the room to take in the atmosphere. And then he suddenly sees you.
Jungkook lips part a watches you intently, his eyes trailing as you exchange words with Namjoon before following him out of the room. His throat feels dry, his mind reeling. She's… here? The words echo in his head as his heart pounds erratically against his ribcage.
He gulps, trying to steady himself, but the unexpected sight of you has thrown him completely off balance. Before he can fully process his spiraling thoughts, Jimin’s voice cuts through the haze.
“Mr. Jeon, shall we?” he prompts, his tone professional but gentle, unknowingly grounding Jungkook back to the present. He blinks, nodding faintly as he forces his legs to move, trailing behind his secretary towards the activity room.
But just when he enters the activity room, what he doesn't expect is for you to be the first person he sees. You’re standing just a few feet away, holding a precarious stack of trays to distribute it among the kids. Your focus is elsewhere, until your eyes suddenly meet his. The world tilts for a moment as your face registers a mix of shock and disbelief.
The impact of seeing him here, so close, sends a jolt through you. Your grip falters, and before you can stop it, the trays slip from your hands, the clattering sound echoing through the room as everything scatters across the floor.
The kids go silent, their chatter replaced by a stunned hush as all eyes turn towards you. The embarrassment and panic that flood your system make your skin prickle, but before you can even begin to move, Jungkook is already in front of you.
“Are you... are you okay?” His voice is low, concerned, his hands gently closing over yours as if to steady you. His touch is firm yet hesitant, and the warmth of his palms against your skin sends a shiver through you.
You can barely process his words, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you struggle to respond. The way he’s looking at you... those familiar dark eyes filled with a mixture of worry and something deeper, makes it impossible to think straight.
“I uhhh... I’m fine.” you finally stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Your cheeks burn as you quickly try to pull your hands back, but he doesn’t let go immediately. His fingers linger for a second longer than necessary, as if he’s reluctant to lose the contact.
Namjoon, having watched the entire scene unfold, clears his throat as he approaches. “Y/N, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, his tone gentle yet purposeful, as if trying to diffuse the tension.
“I’m fine.” you repeat, louder this time, forcing yourself to look away from Jungkook as you pull your hand away from his and focus on the mess on the floor. You crouch down, starting to pick up the scattered trays, desperate to avoid his eyes. Namjoon joins you without a word, but you can feel Jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you.
Jimin steps forward, clearly confused by the sudden commotion. “Mr. Jeon, should we...” he starts, glancing between Jungkook and the scene before him, but Jungkook barely acknowledges him. His focus is solely on you, his mind racing as he tries to process everything.
For Jungkook, this moment feels surreal. He hadn’t prepared himself for seeing you... not here, not like this. And now, with you so close yet seemingly so far, the weight of everything unsaid between you presses down on him like a tidal wave.
He wants nothing more than to just hold you, to pull you close and take in every detail of your face. These four months have been nothing short of hell, filled with an unrelenting ache for your presence.
But as he watches you so obviously avoiding him, he feels rooted to the spot, his mind scrambling to find the right words... words that refuse to come out.
//
Once the kids are fully immersed in their activity, you quietly slip out of the room, desperate for a moment to catch your breath. The weight of Jungkook’s presence had pressed on you relentlessly for the past twenty minutes, his gaze a constant reminder of the unresolved emotions between you two. Each stolen glance felt like it peeled back layers of the wall you’d carefully built around yourself.
The hallway is quiet as you walk towards the large window at the far end, your footsteps muffled against the polished floor. You pause there, gazing out at the orphanage’s small garden, the scene outside blurring as your mind spins.
Your fingers find the pendant hidden beneath your sweater, and you begin to fidget with it, the familiar texture grounding you. This pendant, this tiny piece of jewelry, holds a weight of its own, a connection to a past that feels both distant and ever-present.
Seeing Jungkook up close had hit you harder than you expected. He hadn’t changed. He was still just as beautiful, still radiated that quiet warmth that had always drawn people to him. The same warmth you’d once found comfort in.
And you missed him... God, you missed him in a way that made your chest ache. But that only made it worse. Because you couldn’t let yourself fall apart, not now, not when you had to face him. You’re so lost in thought that the sound of a familiar voice startles you.
“Y/n.”
Your body tenses instantly. You don’t turn, your fingers reflexively tucking the pendant back beneath your sweater as if it’s some fragile secret you need to protect. You stay facing the window, your breaths shallow as you try to steady your heartbeat.
“You… won’t even look at me?” Jungkook's voice is soft, hesitant, but the pain in it cuts through you like a blade. You bite your lip, your eyes still fixed on the view outside, but all you can feel is him. The rawness of his words sinks into you, heavy and unshakable.
“Y/n…” His voice comes again, quieter this time, almost breaking. It’s not just a name... it’s a plea, one you wish you could ignore but know you can’t.
You hate this. You hate that Jungkook, of all people... the kindest, most selfless soul you’ve ever known... is standing here now, burdened by the pain you caused him. You hate that you’re the one who turned his world upside down. And yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to face him.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you turn to face him. Your expression is blank, a carefully constructed mask. “What?” The word comes out cold, clipped, and you instantly regret the sharpness of your tone.
Jungkook’s gaze softens as he studies you, his dark eyes tracing the contours of your face. You still look the same... still breathtaking, still the person he fell hopelessly in love with. But there’s something different too, a guardedness that wasn’t there before, a distance he doesn’t know how to bridge.
“How… how have you been? It’s been a while.” he says softly, his voice laced with hesitation as he takes a tentative step closer.
“I’m fine.” The words come quickly, too quickly, as if you’re desperate to end this conversation before it can even begin. You don’t meet his gaze for long, your eyes flicking away like you’re afraid of what he might see.
Every second in his presence feels like an eternity, the weight of the emotions swirling between you both, suffocating. You can’t do this. Not now, not like this. The effort of keeping your face neutral, of pretending you don’t feel the same pull towards him that you always have... it’s too much.
Without another word, you move to step past him, your focus solely on the hallway ahead. But before you can escape, his hand reaches out, catching your wrist. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, halting you in your tracks.
“Wait.” he says, his voice quiet but firm. There’s a vulnerability in his tone that makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped gently around your wrist. It’s almost unbearable... how much harder this is than you’d expected. Having him so close, right there behind you, stirs emotions you’ve fought tirelessly to suppress.
Slowly, you turn over your shoulder, finally meeting his eyes. The intensity in them is overwhelming, a deep sea of emotions you can’t bring yourself to name. They hold so much... questions, pain, longing and you feel a lump rise in your throat as you let out a shaky breath.
“Let me go, Jungkook.” you say quietly, your voice steadier than you feel. You try to tug your wrist free, but his grip tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you rooted in place.
“I didn’t expect to see you here…” he says softly, his voice low and filled with something you can’t quite place. He’s ignoring your plea, but there’s no malice in it, only hesitation, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. “I’m volunteering.” you reply flatly, forcing the words out without a hint of emotion. “And I need to go.” you add, your tone clipped as you yank your wrist out of his hold.
This time, he lets you go, his hand falling to his side as he watches you stride away from him as fast as you can manage. You don’t dare look back, even as you feel his gaze linger on you, burning into your retreating figure. Your heart pounds with each step, your emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface, but you don’t stop. You can’t.
You barge into the restroom, letting the door shut heavily behind you. The cool air does nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. Instantly, your hands fly up to cover your face, a desperate attempt to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.
Your chest heaves as you fight against the tears that burn at the edges of your eyes, your palms pressing against your cheeks as if holding yourself together. But it’s futile. The weight of seeing him again... his voice, his touch, the unspoken pain in his eyes, comes crashing down on you all at once.
A strangled breath escapes your lips, and you lean against the sink for support. Your fingers grip the edge of the cold porcelain as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, your blurred vision making it hard to focus.
“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” you whisper to yourself, your voice breaking. Your tears fall freely now, streaking down your cheeks as the emotions you’ve bottled up for months finally spill over. The ache of his presence, the agony of your unresolved feelings... it’s all too much.
You press a trembling hand against your chest, trying to steady the harsh pounding of your heart. For a moment, you close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you attempt to compose yourself. But the pain lingers, sharp and unrelenting.
//
The workshop winds down, the chatter of children and clinking of utensils slowly fading into the background. You’ve spent the entire afternoon and evening carefully maneuvering to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, your heart in a constant state of unease.
Every glance he threw your way, every fleeting moment you felt his presence nearby, only made the weight in your chest heavier.
By the time the clock strikes 8, exhaustion has seeped into your bones, not just from the work but also from the emotional toll of the day. Mrs. Lee thanks you warmly as you help her finish setting up dinner. Namjoon remains by your side, quiet but supportive, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of your thoughts.
“You did great today.” he murmurs softly as you both step out of the main hall, his tone gentle. You offer him a faint smile, appreciating his effort to lighten your mood, but the turmoil inside you is too heavy to shake off completely.
Finally, you decide it’s time to leave. Walking down the stairs by the entrance, you feel the cool evening breeze brush against your cheeks. You glance up at the darkening sky, the stars peeking through faintly, their distant glow a stark contrast to the storm swirling within you.
Pulling your coat tighter around you, you fix your bag on your shoulder and bury your hands in your pockets. The thought of going home to the solace of your quiet living room, sappy rom-coms, and a tub of ice cream feels like the only reprieve you’ll get tonight.
As you reach the bus stop, you take a seat on the cold bench, staring at the empty road ahead. The world around you feels quiet and still, yet your mind is an undying chaos. Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook... his voice, his touch, the way his eyes silently pleaded with you earlier and just how much you miss him.
You sigh heavily, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. The ache of seeing him again lingers like a ghost, refusing to leave you be.
As you attempt to gather your thoughts, the soft hum of an approaching engine disrupts your reverie. Your head lifts instinctively, and before you can process it, a sleek car pulls to a stop right in front of you. The headlights cast a gentle glow on the empty road, but it’s the sight of the driver that makes your breath hitch.
Your lips part in surprise, your brows furrowing as the window rolls down. There he is, his dark eyes fixed on you.
“Y/n.” Jungkook calls softly, his voice carrying over the quiet evening. You sigh, a mix of frustration and weariness bubbling within you. Without a word, you stand, shifting your gaze to the left, hoping to catch sight of the bus that feels agonizingly far from arriving.
“Y/n, it’s late. Let me drop you home.” Jungkook says, his tone gentle but insistent. Your heart stumbles at the offer, the thought of being alone with him sending your nerves into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself... not with how raw and exposed you feel after today. So, you do what you’ve been doing all afternoon. You ignore him.
Fixing your gaze on the road ahead, you refuse to acknowledge him. “Y/n, please…” His voice softens, almost breaking. You clench your jaw, the plea digging into you, forcing you to glance at him. “Just go, Jungkook.” you snap flatly, your tone colder than you intended.
Jungkook’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as your words hit him like a blow. He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving you. “I’ll just drop you home. Please, it’s not safe this late.” he persists, his determination unwavering.
You shake your head, muttering under your breath as you start walking down the pavement, each step heavier than the last. But Jungkook, true to his nature, doesn’t back down so easily.
The car begins to crawl forward, matching your pace as you walk. His persistence is both frustrating and heartbreaking. You can feel his gaze through the window, silently urging you to stop, to listen, to look at him.
“Y/n.” he calls out again, his voice tinged with desperation. Your chest tightens as you quicken your steps, hoping to outrun the storm of emotions brewing within you. But no matter how far you walk, Jungkook is right there, his car trailing you like a shadow, refusing to let you go.
The sound of the car suddenly stopping and the door opening breaks through the rhythm of your footsteps, and you stiffen. You don’t turn around, determined to maintain your resolve, but then you feel it... a firm yet gentle hand gripping your arm, spinning you around effortlessly.
Your eyes widen as you find yourself face-to-face with Jungkook, the intensity in his gaze pinning you in place. His breath is uneven, as if he’s been chasing you, though he hasn’t. “Please.” he says, his voice raw and pleading. “Just let me drop you home. That’s literally all I’m asking.”
His words hang heavy between you, and for a moment, you close your eyes, exhaling sharply. His persistence is unrelenting, and deep down, you know your bus isn’t arriving anytime soon to save you from this situation.
You pull your arm free from his grasp, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you step back. Without meeting his gaze, you walk towards his car, your resolve cracking under the weight of exhaustion and inevitability.
Sliding into the passenger seat, you settle into the cold leather with a resigned sigh, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. He'll just drop me home, you convince yourself as you don’t look at him, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.
Jungkook quietly gets back into the driver’s seat, his movements careful as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence that now envelops the two of you. The hum of the engine rises again, but neither of you say anything, the tension stretching thin as the car begins to move.
As Jungkook drives, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road fills the car, but the silence between you feels louder, heavier. Your gaze remains fixed outside the window, the passing streetlights casting fleeting glows across your face. Your hands clutch your purse tightly on your lap, a silent anchor to steady your racing emotions.
The stillness is suddenly broken by his voice, soft but heavy with restraint. “So… how have you been?” he asks, his eyes focused on the road ahead.
You don't answer. You don’t move. You don’t flinch. Your determination to stay silent grows stronger as you think about the consequences of letting him back into your life. The jagged edges of your reality press against you like shards of glass.
“Y/n…” he calls out again, his voice gentler this time, but still, you keep your gaze fixed outside, ignoring the crackling tension in the air.
He exhales audibly, the pain in his voice more evident now. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in four months... and now you’re here, but you’re acting like I don’t even exist.” His words tremble, and you feel the sharp sting of guilt twisting in your chest.
“You’re right here.” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But why do you feel so far away?”
Your lips tighten into a thin line, and your grip on your purse grows tighter. You can feel his eyes on you, searching, pleading, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “Are you really not going to talk to me… at all?” he asks, his voice breaking slightly at the end.
Jungkook glances at your side profile, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he fights to hold himself together. The hurt in his chest feels unbearable, a weight pressing harder with every second of your silence.
He’s done his best to come to terms with your absence, with the breakup, even when the harsh reasons you gave felt like flimsy walls hiding something bigger. But now, sitting this close to you and being treated like a stranger, it cuts deeper than he expected.
“You know what…” Jungkook suddenly mutters under his breath, and though you hear the shift in his tone, you don’t move, don’t react. But then the car swerves abruptly, jerking to the left. Your head snaps towards him, eyes wide with shock as you clutch the handlebar above your seat.
“Jungkook!” you exclaim, your heart hammering as you notice the road signs signaling that he’s no longer heading towards your neighborhood.
“I can’t do this anymore.” he says, his voice firm but tinged with exhaustion. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and his foot presses harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding up.
“Jungkook, what are you doing?? Slow down !!” you demand, trying to mask the panic creeping into your voice. “We need to talk.” he states simply, his eyes focused on the road ahead as if there’s nothing else in the world but his determination.
Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind races. “Jungkook, turn the car around.” you say firmly, though your voice wavers slightly.
But he doesn’t listen. Instead, his jaw tightens, and the speed of the car increases further, the scenery outside blurring. Then it hits you... he’s heading in the direction towards his place.
“Jungkook…” you begin, your voice softer now, a mixture of anger and disbelief.
He doesn’t answer this time, his silence carrying more weight than words ever could. His gaze remains locked forward, the muscles in his jaw ticking as if he’s trying to rein in the storm brewing within him.
You glance outside, feeling both trapped and helpless. Every instinct in you screams to argue, to demand that he stops, but a part of you... a small, stubborn part wonders what he’s so desperate to say.
After 10 tense minutes of silence, the car finally comes to a halt in front of Jungkook's building. He doesn’t waste a second, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind him. You watch him from the corner of your eye, your hands still gripping the purse on your lap, as he strides purposefully to your side of the car.
Before you can even process what’s happening, he pulls the door open, and the chill of the night air sweeps over you, making you shiver. He leans down slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with an unrelenting determination that sends your heart racing.
“Come with me.” he says, his voice steady but soft as he extends a hand towards you. You stare at his hand, conflicted, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. You feel cornered, unable to escape this situation he’s forced you into.
“Jungkook…” you begin, but the words catch in your throat. He sighs, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if the plea in your voice strikes a chord in him. But before you can say anything else, he gently grabs your wrist. The touch is soft, hesitant, but there’s an urgency to his movements as he guides you out of the car.
You stumble slightly, your body still resistant, but he steadies you with a firm yet careful grip. He’s desperate, you can see it in the way his brows furrow, the way his lips press into a thin line as if he’s barely holding himself together. “Jungkook, I...” you breathe out, the words getting stuck in your throat.
“Just… please.” he interrupts, his voice raw with emotion. “I just wanna talk.... Please.”
His eyes search yours, and you can feel the ache in them, the unspoken pain he’s been carrying. Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you’re frozen, unable to say no, unable to pull away. He doesn’t give you a chance to argue further, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he gently but firmly leads you towards his house.
You let out a shaky breath, the weight of the moment heavy in the air as you reluctantly follow him.
As Jungkook shuts the door to his apartment, the click echoes in the silence. He turns to face you, his eyes soft but piercing, like he’s searching for something he’s desperate to find.
“Y/n.” he says, your name rolling off his tongue like a plea.
You try to avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but at him, but then his hands come up to cup your face, his warmth grounding you in a way that sends a pang through your chest. His touch is gentle, yet insistent, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.
“Y/n, please.” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “Just talk to me.”
Your breath hitches, and you instinctively step back, only to feel the cool, unyielding wall against your back. You’re cornered... literally and emotionally... and the weight of the moment bears down on you.
Your emotions, so carefully locked away, begin to bubble to the surface. Anger, regret, frustration, they all swirl together, threatening to consume you. Gritting your teeth, you grab his wrists and pull his hands away from your face.
“Just leave me alone.” you choke out, your voice breaking. The tears that have been fighting to escape finally spill over, cascading down your cheeks. Before you know it, you’re sobbing uncontrollably, your body trembling as the dam holding back your emotions shatters.
Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock as he watches you unravel before him. His heart clenches painfully at the sight of your tears, the sound of your sobs cutting through him like a knife. He steps closer instinctively, his hands hovering uncertainly as if unsure whether to comfort you or give you space.
“Y/n…” he begins, his voice soft and hesitant, but you shake your head violently, interrupting him.
“You can’t do this, Jungkook.” you cry out, your voice trembling with frustration. “After everything I did to cut you off… you can’t just... just pull me back like this.”
Your words hit him like a blow, and he takes a shaky step back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Do you think this is easy for me?” he finally says, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to pull you back, Y/n. But how am I supposed to let you go when I don’t even understand why you left?”
His words hang in the air, and you stare at him through your blurry vision, your heart pounding as his pain intertwines with yours. You’re both standing on the edge of a precipice, the weight of your shared history threatening to pull you under.
The air between you feels heavy, thick with emotions neither of you can control anymore. Jungkook’s gaze locks onto your tear-streaked face, his breathing shallow as he watches the pain and turmoil in your eyes. Something inside him snaps, and before he can stop himself, he takes a step forward, closing the distance between you.
His hands cradle your face, trembling slightly, as he leans in and harshly presses his lips against yours. It’s desperate, unrestrained, and raw. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, your breath hitching as his lips move against yours, pouring every unspoken word, every unanswered question into the kiss.
Your eyes flutter shut, and for a moment, your mind is overwhelmed by the flood of memories... his laugh, his touch, the way he used to make you feel like you were the only person that mattered. But as much as the kiss ignites a fire inside you, your tears don’t stop.
Jungkook feels the wetness of your tears against his palms, and it pulls him back abruptly. He steps away, his face etched with regret and panic, as if realizing he may have crossed a line he shouldn’t have.
“I... I’m sorry.” he stammers, his voice shaking as he searches your face. “I shouldn’t have—”
Before he can finish, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him back towards you, your lips colliding with his in a kiss that’s equally urgent and desperate. Your hands clutch onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring you to reality, and this time, the weight of all the emotions you’ve been holding back crashes into him.
Your kiss is messy, tinged with anger, longing, and sorrow, but it’s real. It’s the connection you’ve been denying for so long. Jungkook responds immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as if afraid you’ll slip away again.
The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment, grappling with the emotions you’ve tried so hard to suppress.
Your lips never part, not even for a second, as you start pulling each other’s clothes off, letting them fall to the ground one after the other. Every single article of clothing gets discarded in a trail leading from his door step to his living room.
The heat between you intensifies, growing hotter and wilder with every second. It’s like you’ve been starving for each other, for this moment, this connection for so long that now you can’t help but devour each other.
You know you shouldn't be doing this. You know you can't face the consequences of your impulsive actions, but your heart refuses to let go. You're completely consumed by the passion and intensity of the kiss, unable to pull yourself away even when you have so much on the line.
Even as you walk into his apartment, your lips remain connected, your hands gripping his arms, holding onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. The world spins around you as he picks up the pace, guiding you to the couch. Your feet brush against the soft carpet, sending shivers up your leg, and before you know it, you feel the cushion behind you.
The feeling of Jungkook on top of you is nothing less than heaven. You run your hands up and down his tattooed arm, feeling the way his muscles tense with each touch. His kisses trail down your neck, making you squirm under him.
“Fuck...” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he takes off your bra in a swift motion.
He groans softly, his eyes wide as they drink in the sight of you beneath him. Then his gaze falls to your collarbone, lingering on the familiar pendant resting against your skin.
"The... necklace." he notices, his fingers reaching out to brush it gently. His touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as if the small piece of jewelry holds all the words he can’t say. He looks up into your eyes, a subtle smile curving his lips.
"You... you never took it off?" he asks, his voice laced with slight disbelief.
"Never." you affirm softly, your voice steady yet tender. His eyes soften, glimmering with emotions too deep for words, and for a moment, it feels as if the necklace is the silent thread that has always held your hearts together.
“I…” his voice trails, and you can tell he’s struggling to find the right words. “I fucking missed you.” he breathes out and without giving you a chance to respond, he leans down and presses his lips to your chest.
You let out a moan as he starts sucking on the skin between your breasts, and your hips squirm beneath him. “Kook…” you gasp as his mouth closes around one of your nipples, making you arch your back. He bites down gently, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.
You can feel his body shaking on top of you, the desperation to get closer to you is so so evident. His hand slides up your leg and rests at your waist before slipping under your back, lifting your hips to meet his. The kiss that follows is sweet and gentle, like he’s trying to apologize for everything that’s happened between you, even when it's not his fault.
Your hands move to his hair, twisting into the dark strands as you pull him even closer. You can’t stop yourself, you can’t resist him anymore. The feeling, the warmth, the electricity, it’s too hard to fight. Your body is craving his, and he’s giving you all the affection you’ve been craving for these past four dreadful months.
His lips trail down your body, stopping at the spot between your legs as he slides your underwear down your legs. You gasp as you watch him dip his head, the warmth of his tongue circling your clit. Your hands grip the couch, and your body arches in reaction to the pleasure he’s sending through your body.
“Fuck.” you gasp, barely able to string the words together as he presses his face between your legs. Jungkook moans, his tongue licking around your clit in firm, steady strokes. Your hands move from the couch to his shoulders, pushing him further between your legs.
He looks up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, his chin wet from your arousal, as he grips your hips and pulls you closer. He buries his tongue as deep as it can go, causing your body to jerk in reaction.
You cry out his name, your voice hoarse as your hands grip his hair. Jungkook feels himself get harder as he flattens his tongue, applying pressure to your clit. “Fuck… please... please Kook... don’t stop.” you beg as he licks you faster, your hips rocking against his face.
Your moans echo through the empty apartment as Jungkook works you closer and closer to release. When he stops sucking your clit and presses his tongue deep inside of you instead, you lose it, your orgasm washing over you in waves.
You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, your legs shaking and twitching around his face as your body convulses with pleasure.
He kisses his way up your body, licking the sweat from your skin before he finally reaches your lips. The taste of your arousal on his lips sends heat through you, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth.
Your tears are back, running down your cheeks as you try to process the moment. Jungkook pulls away from your lips and places his forehead against yours. His thumb softly wipes your tears away, as he tries to process this surreal moment himself.
“Fuck...” he whispers as he slowly rubs his length against your core, sending sparks through your body. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours... your bodies pressed together in a way you can't comprehend.
“I... I need you baby....” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his length rubbing against you. You breathe heavily as you nod, wanting him to just take you right here, right now.
With one swift motion, he pushes himself inside you, filling you completely. Your lips part as you take in the feeling of being stretched out by him.
Jungkook stills for a moment, taking in the feeling of finally being back inside of you. He thought he’d never have you like this again, that he’d lost you forever, but here he is, buried deep inside your warmth. His eyes stare into yours, watching your chest heave up and down as you try to adjust to the feeling you had so deeply missed.
You stare into him, sniffling as your tears refuse to stop flowing. “I love you...” you hear him say as he leans forward again, capturing your wet lips in an urgent kiss.
As the kiss grows intense, he starts moving his hips, thrusting in and out of you in a slow and steady pace. Your hands grip his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you arch your back. Jungkook kisses you harder, his moans filling the air around you.
His movements are filled with need and longing, like he’s afraid this is the last time he’ll get to make love to you. He wants to take in every moan, every thrust, every gasp he gets from you.
You’re lost in the sensation, consumed by the pleasure Jungkook is giving you as his body moves over and into you. He holds you down, his weight pinning you to the couch as he makes love to you in his living room. You feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper inside you.
Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer as you gasp for air but his hands grip your legs, moving them up his body as he lifts your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The change of position causes him to slide deeper inside you, and you gasp as he hits a familiar spot inside and all you can see is stars.
“Oh god....” you moan as he starts increasing his pace. Your lips part as the sensation washes over you. Jungkook leans down, pressing his lips to yours as he fucks you with reckless abandon. He’s chasing his own release, but he wants you to come with him.
He thrusts into you over and over again, his hands gripping your waist as he holds himself up. Your hands are on his ass, pushing him closer, begging for more as he groans into your mouth.
Your moans fill the air as you feel your body build towards a second release. Jungkook feels it too, his pace picking up as he drives you over the edge once more. “I’m...I'm coming...” you cry, your nails digging into his skin.
Jungkook groans in response, his thrusts becoming wild and desperate. He fucks you like he can’t get enough, like he’ll never get to have you again.
You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you once more. Your body convulses under him, and you can’t do anything but let it take you over. Jungkook grunts, his body shaking above you as he chases his own release.
“Fuck baby...” he groans as he fills you up and collapses on top of you his body shuddering and his hips thrusting into you a few more times, stretching out his orgasm as much as he can. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close as you take in the warmth of his body against yours.
Jungkook presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, the gesture carrying a weight of emotions he can’t put into words. The moment feels surreal, almost fragile, as if one wrong move could shatter it.
He never imagined he’d hold you like this again, the warmth of your presence grounding him in a reality he once thought he’d lost forever. To him, this feels like a stolen dream... achingly beautiful, yet tinged with the fear that it might slip away.
He slowly rolls off you, settling beside you against the soft cushions of the couch. His arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close as his eyes trace the lines of your face.
The exhaustion etched into your features tugs at his heart. His gaze drifts downward, gazing at the necklace around your neck. You didn't take it off and... that must mean something right? As he continues taking in the sight of you, he feels an overwhelming ache rise within him... he had missed you more than words could ever convey.
A thousand questions crowd his mind. He wants to speak, to ask, to understand, to unravel everything that had been left unsaid and find a way back to what you guys once were. But then he notices the way your eyelids flutter, heavy with weariness, and the soft, unsteady rhythm of your breaths as you try to calm yourself.
He swallows the urge to press for answers, deciding that for now, the questions can wait. Morning will come soon enough. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently wills himself to remain still. The warmth of your presence soothes him, and he closes his eyes, hoping that sleep will find him in the solace of this stolen moment.
//
Jungkook's eyebrows knit together in his sleep, a slight twitch running through his body as he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. His eyes flutter open, and he instinctively clutches the blanket against his chest. Blinking groggily, he glances around, the familiar sight of his apartment slowly coming into focus.
The realization that he’s on the couch sinks in, and like a tidal wave, the memory of last night crashes into him. His breath hitches, and he jolts upright, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic bubbles beneath the surface as he glances at the empty space behind him.
He looks down at the blanket draped over his body, a puzzled frown forming as he struggles to recall when or how it got there. His eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of you, but the stillness of his apartment feels unnervingly hollow. The silence presses down on him, heavy and suffocating.
Rising to his feet, Jungkook starts moving through the apartment, his voice shaky as he calls out your name. "Y/N??" he tries again, his tone more urgent this time. But there’s no answer.
Each step he takes only amplifies the sinking feeling in his chest. He checks the kitchen, the bathroom, his bedroom, even the balcony, but you’re nowhere to be found. His mind spirals, questioning if last night had been a cruel dream... a mirage conjured by his yearning.
Or had you truly been here, only to slip away quietly in the morning? The thought twists his stomach, leaving him nauseous as he leans against the wall, his hands trembling. Did he really lose you all over again?
Jungkook doesn’t waste a second. His movements are frantic, hands fumbling as he pulls on his clothes in haste, not even bothering to smooth out the wrinkles. His mind is racing, each thought more urgent than the last. He grabs his keys and bolts out the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing through the empty hallway.
His heart pounds as he throws himself into the driver’s seat, the familiar hum of the engine roaring to life beneath him. His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, the tension radiating through his body. His eyes burn with exhaustion, but the ache in his chest far outweighs it.
The city is still waking up, the roads bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. Jungkook doesn’t care. He presses harder on the accelerator, weaving through the sparse traffic with reckless determination. Every red light feels like a lifetime, every delay an unbearable agony.
He can't stop thinking about you. The way your touch felt like home, the way your lips trembled against his last night, and the way your tears spoke of everything you were too afraid to say. He can’t let that go. He won’t.
The thought of losing you again, of waking up every morning knowing you’re out there but not by his side, terrifies him. It’s a kind of pain he doesn’t think he can survive twice.
As he nears your neighborhood, his pulse quickens. He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how you’ll react, but none of it matters. All he knows is that he needs you... more than air, more than anything.
Parking haphazardly in front of your house, he bolts towards your door, his heart hammering as he begins knocking. There’s no answer, and his anxiety only grows. He steps off your porch, wondering where you could be.
He rushes outside, reaching the pavement, desperately scanning the neighborhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere.
He runs through the neighborhood, his heart pounding, the anxiety gnawing at him as he checks every corner, every familiar path, but you're nowhere to be seen. Yet, something inside him refuses to give up.
As he nears the park at the edge of the neighborhood, he slows down, taking a breath to steady himself. His eyes sweep over the quiet space, and in that moment, it’s as if time slows... until he sees you, sitting alone on a distant bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the morning light, looking smaller and more vulnerable than he’s ever seen you.
He wastes no time as he runs towards you, his footsteps growing louder as he approaches you, his figure growing more defined with every step. His heart is racing, not just from the frantic search, but from the sheer desperation to be close to you again, to make sure you’re okay.
You sit still, your eyes widening in disbelief as you realize he’s found you. A rush of emotions flood through you... surprise, guilt, and a wave of regret. You can't help but wonder how he managed to find you here.
You glance down, unable to meet his gaze as the memories of last night resurface. The vulnerability of the moment hits you hard. You had fled his apartment at dawn, unable to face him after everything. The way he had held you, the way everything felt so perfect in the heat of the moment... it scared you.
You knew you had no answers to his questions, no way to explain the reasons behind your past actions. And the truth? That was something you couldn’t give him, not now, not when you have so much to lose. The only thing left for you to do was leave him behind and slip away like a coward, hoping he wouldn’t follow.
But here he is, standing before you, his presence too much to ignore. You don't know whether to run again or finally face him.
Jungkook’s eyes are full of pain as he steps closer to you, his voice shaking with a mix of frustration and hurt. “You left.” he breathes out, as if the weight of his words is too much to bear.
“Why... why did you leave?” His voice cracks at the end, vulnerability spilling through in a way he can’t control.
You try to look away, but his gaze pulls you in. The truth, too raw and too close to the surface, is something you can’t escape. You can feel the crack in your heart widen with every passing second. "Jungkook... we're broken up." you whisper, barely meeting his eyes.
"No." he denies, the sharpness in his breath betraying the desperation in his chest. "Don't say that, especially after last night." His voice is pleading now, fragile, cracking in a way that shakes him to the core. His fists clench at his sides with the effort to keep himself together.
"How can you say that after everything? After what happened between us? How... can you just walk away like that? How can you pretend like... none of it mattered?"
He takes a step closer, his eyes burning with a need to understand, to hold on to the fragments of what he thought was still there. "The past four months... it’s been hell, Y/n. I’ve been drowning in this silence, wondering every day what went wrong. I never got an answer. You just... left. Without a word, without a valid reason. And I hate it. I hate that I don’t know why. I hate that you just cut me off like I meant nothing. Like everything we had... it was all just a lie."
You look at him, the tears unknowingly streaming down your face. "Kook..." you start, but he cuts you off. "I tried to let go... I tried to make peace with it... but... but it hurts, Y/n. It hurts more than I can put into words, and I don’t even know what I did wrong." he pauses, trying to calm himself down.
"I don’t know what happened between us. Why did... why did you leave me? Why did you make me feel like I was nothing to you?" His voice cracks, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. You stare at him, the lump in your throat intensifying. "You... you were everything to me. I thought we had a future together, Y/n. But now, I’m just... I'm just so lost.... I'm so lost without you."
Jungkook steps back for a moment, his hands running through his hair in frustration as he tries to make sense of it all. His breath is shallow, a quiet sob escaping him as he collects himself. "I need to know..." he mutters, barely audible. "Why? What... what happened? Please, just tell me."
He takes another shaky breath, the weight of his emotions almost unbearable. "Don’t tell me... you stopped loving me." he pleads, his voice raw and desperate. "I know that’s not true. I know you would never be so harsh to me." His words are laced with disbelief, as if he’s clinging to any shred of hope that there’s something he’s missing, something he can grasp, something that makes sense.
“I can feel it, Y/n.” he continues softly, eyes never leaving yours, searching your face as if it holds the answers. “I know you love me. You can’t just... stop. Not after everything we went through. Not after what we had.” He steps closer again, his heart aching at the thought of losing you. “So don’t tell me that’s it. Don’t tell me you just decided it was over.”
"I never stopped loving you." you whisper, your voice barely audible as hot tears continue to roll down your cheeks. The weight of your words feels like an anchor in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You feel weak, defeated... like there’s no hope left.
The sight of him standing there, shivering in pain, breaks you in ways you didn’t think were possible. His pain, the hurt you’ve caused, fills you with an overwhelming sense of guilt.
Your heart aches as you watch the way his eyes fill with confusion and desperation, his hands trembling as he reaches out to you, as if just a touch could make everything okay. But you know, deep down, that nothing can probably fix this.
"I'm sorry." you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "I'm so sorry, Jungkook. I never wanted to hurt you." The tears flow freely now, staining your cheeks as you try to find the strength to speak, to explain, but the words feel stuck, trapped inside you.
As you break down, Jungkook takes a seat beside you as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You bury your face in his chest, the tears coming in waves, uncontrollable, as the weight of everything you've been holding in comes rushing to the surface.
His hands gently stroke your back, soothing you in a way that makes everything feel just a little more bearable. Every sob that wracks your body seems to break his heart a little more, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tightens his grip on you, as if reminding both of you that, for now, you’re not alone.
Jungkook feels his own tears begin to spill as he pulls you even closer, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. His fingers tremble as they weave through your hair, trying to hold you as tightly as possible, as if he could absorb some of your sorrow.
The weight of the silence between you both is suffocating, but his mind races, desperately trying to understand why you’re in so much pain, why you had to leave him, why you feel so broken.
"Y/n..." His voice cracks, raw with emotion as he speaks your name. His chest tightens with the fear that maybe he’s never truly known the full story, that maybe everything he thought he understood was just an illusion.
His tears fall freely now, as he presses his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. "Please, just tell me. What happened?" His words are barely above a whisper, but they hold a desperate plea. "Why are you like this? What... what am I missing?"
His hands move to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that continue to fall. He’s not sure if he’s crying for the both of you or if he’s just so lost in your pain that it feels like it’s his own. "I can’t lose you again, Y/n. I need to know... why we are the way we are right now. Please, just tell me. I can’t fix it if I don’t understand."
His grip on you tightens, the urgency in his voice rising as he gazes into your eyes, searching for some kind of answer, anything that will explain the devastation he’s feeling. His love for you is still so strong, so unyielding, but the fear of losing you completely is almost too much to bear.
Just as you're about to speak, your phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the heavy silence. You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to pick it up, especially given the fragile state you're in right now. But the phone keeps ringing, insistent, and you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.
With a sniffle, you pull away from Jungkook, trying to compose yourself as you reach for your phone. "Just a minute..." you whisper, wiping away the last of your tears as you glance at the caller ID.
It's the hospital. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, and before you can think twice, you answer, trying to steady your voice. "Hello?"
"Am I speaking to Ms. Choi?" the voice on the other end asks. Your breath catches in your throat, and without a second thought, you stand up, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. "Yes, this is she." you reply, trying to keep your composure, but the panic is starting to rise in your chest.
Jungkook watches you intently, noticing the change in your expression as you stand up. His concern deepens as he observes the tension in your body. Who could be calling you at this hour? You grip the phone tighter as the voice on the other end continues speaking, but then you gasp, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.
He watches in horror as you suddenly collapse, your knees buckling beneath you. It's like all the strength has left your body. His instincts kick in immediately, and he's by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching out for you.
His hands land gently on your shoulders as he pulls you towards him, trying to steady you. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground, but you don’t seem to notice. Your eyes are wide, unblinking, and you stare ahead, lost in whatever news you've just received.
"Y/n... what happened? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice is laced with worry, his hand moving to your cheek to check for any sign of awareness. You blink a few times, as if snapping back into reality, but it’s still hard to focus. Your lips tremble as you finally meet his eyes, and you whisper his name. "Jungkook..."
His heart races as he holds you tighter, desperate for you to continue. He nods, prompting you to keep talking. "Jungkook... Beomgyu... he... he woke up." you say.
"What...?" Jungkook asks, his voice laced with disbelief. His wide eyes search your face for confirmation, and when he sees the glimmer of truth in your tear-streaked expression, his features soften into a smile. "Y/n... that's... that's great news. That's... amazing news, baby." His voice wavers, a mix of relief and joy, and his smile grows wider.
You nod quickly, the reality of it hitting you all over again as fresh tears stream down your cheeks. "He's awake, Jungkook... he's really awake." you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of happiness and overwhelming emotion.
You pause, glancing around as you try to calm yourself down. "I need to go see him. I... I need to get to the... the hospital." you say hurriedly, the urgency in your tone impossible to miss.
Jungkook catches your arm gently but firmly, grounding you for a moment. "Hey, hey." he says softly, looking into your eyes with a steady calmness. "I'll take you there, yeah? My car’s parked right outside your house, so let’s go. Come on." he softly says as he helps you up.
//
You barge through the hospital doors, your steps quick and frantic, your heart racing as you navigate through the lobby. Jungkook follows close behind, his presence a comforting weight amidst the chaos swirling in your mind.
You reach the elevator and jab the button repeatedly, as though it might make the lift arrive faster. The ride up feels like an eternity, and yet, when the doors slide open, you're already bolting down the hallway towards Beomgyu's room.
Finally, you stand outside the door, your hand frozen on the handle. You take a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, your chest rising and falling with the weight of four long years of waiting. Four years of imagining this moment, of rehearsing what you’d say, how you’d feel... but now, standing here, all those thoughts dissolve into a haze of indescribable emotion.
Jungkook steps beside you, his voice soft and steady as he whispers. "He's waiting for you, baby." His words calm you, giving you the courage you need to face what’s on the other side of the door. You glance at him, his warm eyes filled with reassurance, and you nod, summoning the strength to push forward. With trembling hands, you carefully push the door open and step inside.
There he is. Beomgyu. Sitting up in bed, his back resting against the headboard, alive and awake. The sight is almost surreal, a moment that feels too precious to be real.
He looks at you with a lopsided grin, his expression as cheeky and familiar as ever. "Long time no see, Your Highness." he quips, his tone lighthearted and playful, as if the last four years hadn't just been wiped away by a miracle.
Your breath catches, a soft laugh escaping you as tears well up in your eyes again. "Beomgyu..." you whisper, your voice breaking. The weight of the years, the pain, the hope... all of it rushes to the surface as you step closer, overwhelmed by the reality of seeing him awake.
You rush to his side, tears streaming freely down your cheeks as you throw your arms around him in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours is enough to break down every last wall you'd built over the years.
You remember all the times you'd playfully swatted him away, rolled your eyes, or made a face every time he tried to hug you because back then, you liked to act like showing affection to your sibling was embarrassing.
But right now, there’s no hesitation, no second thought. Right now, you’ve never felt more alive.
“I missed you.” you sob, your voice muffled against his shoulder as you clutch him like you’re afraid he might slip away again. The tears come harder as the realization sinks in that this moment is real. He’s real. The long, agonizing wait is finally over.
Beomgyu chuckles softly, his voice steady yet laced with emotion. "Wow, I must really be a sight for sore eyes if you’re this clingy." he teases, though his arms wrap tightly around you, holding you just as fiercely. His familiar, playful tone only makes you cry harder.
"You idiot." you choke out, your voice trembling as you pull back just enough to look at him. Your hands cup his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that now spill from his eyes too. "Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again. Do you hear me? Never again."
His grin softens, and he nods, his own tears mirroring yours. "I promise." he whispers, his voice quieter, more solemn now. "Never again."
Jungkook lingers near the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches the reunion unfold. The raw emotion in your embrace, the way you cling to Beomgyu like he might vanish if you let go... it stirs something deep within him.
He knows how long you've waited for this moment, how often you spoke of it with a mixture of hope and pain. Seeing you finally experience it makes his heart swell with happiness for you.
But then, Jungkook freezes as Beomgyu's gaze shifts towards him. His eyes widen slightly, realizing that this is the first time Beomgyu is seeing him.
“Who’s... that?” Beomgyu asks, his voice curious but steady. His brows furrow slightly as he nods towards Jungkook. You turn to follow Beomgyu’s gaze, and when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, you can’t help but smile.
“That’s Jungkook.” you say softly, glancing back at your brother before looking at Jungkook again. There’s something tender in the way you say his name, something that makes Jungkook’s smile widen as he nods politely at Beomgyu.
Before anything else can be said, the doctor appears and Jungkook steps aside letting him in. “Ms. Choi.” the doctor greets with a warm smile. “Congratulations. It’s wonderful to see Beomgyu awake and responsive. However, we’ll need to run a few tests now, just to check his overall condition.”
You nod understandingly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek as you stand. “Of course... thank you, doctor.” you say, turning back to Beomgyu. You lean down to place a soft kiss on his forehead, your smile filled with a quiet reassurance. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”
Beomgyu nods, his grin still cheeky. “Don’t disappear. I need you to explain who that guy is and why he was looking at you with literal heart eyes.” he teases, his playful tone making you chuckle as you shake your head.
You glance at Jungkook, who’s scratching the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. “Behave.” you tell Beomgyu with a laugh before stepping outside with Jungkook, leaving your brother in the capable hands of the doctor.
As you settle into the metal chair right outside Beomgyu's room, beside Jungkook, the cold steel pressing against your back is a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand as it gently rests on your knee. His fingers squeeze lightly, offering some silent comfort.
You glance down at the way his hand fits so naturally on you and let out a small, tired smile. Placing your hand over his, your thumb begins to trace slow circles over his knuckles, grounding yourself in the quiet rhythm of the motion.
Your voice breaks the silence, soft but weighted. "Junghyun... he came to see me."
Jungkook’s brows knit together in confusion. “Junghyun? My brother?” he repeats, his tone disbelieving as he tries to process your words. You nod, your gaze shifting to the sterile white tiles of the hospital floor.
“Four months ago... he came to the kindergarten.” you admit, your voice faltering slightly. You exhale deeply, trying to steady yourself before diving into the painful memory.
The words spill out in fragments, raw and hesitant, as you recount the confrontation with Junghyun. You describe the way he appeared out of nowhere, his presence overbearing, his threats sharp and deliberate. You tell Jungkook how he used your brother's condition against you, twisting it into a weapon, leaving you cornered and helpless.
By the time you finish, the tension in Jungkook’s body is palpable. His jaw is clenched tight, and his fists curl against his knees. His breath is sharp as he mutters through gritted teeth, “That motherfucker…”
His reaction makes your chest tighten, a mixture of relief and guilt washing over you. He’s angry... angrier than you’ve ever seen him but you know it’s not directed at you. It’s the thought of his brother’s cruel manipulation, the pain you endured in silence, that has his blood boiling.
"I'll be right back." Jungkook says firmly, already standing up and walking away with purpose. Panic rises in your chest as you quickly catch up to him, already guessing where he’s headed. "Jungkook, no... wait, stop." you plead, reaching out to grab his arm.
He stops abruptly, turning to face you and holding your shoulders gently but firmly. His dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with resolve. "Y/n, just trust me." he says, his voice steady yet reassuring. "He won’t be able to do anything. I’ll make sure... I’ll make sure you and Beomgyu are safe. I promise."
You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head, cutting you off before the words can escape. "I need to put him in his place." he breathes out, his jaw tightening. "He needs to know he can’t talk to you like that. He needs to understand what you mean to me." His voice softens slightly, the tenderness in his gaze making your heart ache.
"Just stay here with Beomgyu." he continues, his tone resolute. "I’ll be back soon. I promise."
Before you can stop him, he steps closer, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, his touch lingering like a silent vow. Then, without another word, he turns on his heels and strides down the hallway, his determination unwavering. You stand frozen, watching him disappear, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the hospital.
//
Jungkook barges into his brother's home office, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Junghyun glances up from his computer, a bemused expression on his face. "Oh, Jungkook? Didn’t expect you to visit on a Sunday. What brings you—"
His sentence is cut off abruptly as Jungkook strides over, grabbing his collar and yanking him to his feet. Before Junghyun can even process what’s happening, a powerful punch lands squarely on his cheek. He stumbles back, clutching his face in shock, but Jungkook doesn’t let him regain his footing.
With a growl of anger, Jungkook throws another punch, the impact snapping Junghyun’s head to the side. The metallic tang of blood fills the air as a crimson streak trickles from Junghyun's split lip.
"Jungkook!" Junghyun finally manages to shout, his voice laced with both pain and disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his chest heaving as he towers over his brother. His fists clench and unclench, the anger rolling off him in waves. "That’s for threatening Y/n." he snarls, his voice dangerously low. "You think you can mess with her? Intimidate her like that? Not while I’m here."
Junghyun glares at him, wiping the blood from his lip, his shock slowly giving way to a cold smirk. "So, this is about her?" he mutters, his tone mocking despite his obvious discomfort. "You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jungkook. How pathetic."
But Jungkook doesn’t flinch. Instead, he grabs Junghyun by the collar again, pulling him close. "Listen to me." he says through gritted teeth. "Stay away from her. If you ever even think about going near her or Beomgyu again, I swear, you’ll regret it."
Jungkook lets go of Junghyun with a forceful shove, sending him sprawling back into his chair. "All this for a girl like her? Really Jungkook?" Junghyun scoffs, his tongue poking the inside of cheek. "You have no idea what she means to me." Jungkook says lowly, glaring at his brother.
Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his fists still clenched at his sides. His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. "You have no idea what she means to me." he says, his glare unwavering. "And you never will."
Junghyun chuckles bitterly, his face twisted in disdain, but before he can retort, Jungkook steps closer, his presence commanding. "Do you think Dad’s going to be proud when he hears what you’ve been up to?" Jungkook asks, his words sharp and deliberate.
Junghyun’s smirk falters ever so slightly. "You think he’ll be okay with you going around threatening people? Manipulating them? Using fear to get your way?" Jungkook continues, his voice rising slightly. "You’re the pathetic one, hyung."
He pauses, letting his words sink in, then laughs... a dry, humorless sound. "And you know what’s really pathetic? That you thought I wouldn’t find out. That you thought I’d just let it slide."
Junghyun’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing, but he stays silent, his confidence clearly shaken. Jungkook steps back, his glare never leaving his brother. "This is your last warning. Stay away from her. Stay away from Beomgyu. Because if you don’t..." He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You won’t just have Dad to deal with. You’ll have me."
Without waiting for a response, Jungkook straightens up and strides out of the office, slamming the door behind him, leaving Junghyun to stew in his own discomfort and rising dread.
//
As you help Beomgyu inside your house, he pauses for a moment, letting his eyes wander around the familiar space. His gaze lands on the corner of the room, behind the couch, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "You still haven't gotten rid of that weird vase?" he teases, pointing at the decorative piece.
You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you. "That's never gonna happen." you reply with a shrug, playfully glaring at him.
He shakes his head in mock disapproval before taking a seat on the couch. The cold fabric causes him to shiver slightly, but he leans back, closing his eyes. "Well... it's good to be back." he murmurs, exhaling deeply.
You stand there for a moment, watching him. Your heart feels so full it could burst. It almost seems unreal... having him here, in your home, after all this time. "Let me cook you some jjajangmyeon." you suggest, breaking the silence.
His eyes snap open, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, how did you know I was craving exactly that?" he asks, his tone amused. "It's a sibling thing." you reply with a wink, heading into the kitchen.
As you start preparing the ingredients, your thoughts inevitably drift to Jungkook, especially since you haven't heard from him ever since he left you at the hospital. You can’t help but wonder how he’s handling the situation with Junghyun. The thought of it makes your stomach churn slightly, but you push the anxiety aside.
"So, where’s your little boyfriend?" Beomgyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, his teasing tone carrying from the living room. A shy smile tugs at your lips, but you don’t respond immediately. "Come on..." he continues, his footsteps drawing closer until he’s leaning casually against the kitchen counter.
"I was in a damn coma for four years, and my bitchless sister finally manages to pull someone, and I don’t even get a proper introduction?"
You snort at his choice of words. "Oh, come on, Gyu." you reply, turning to face him with a mock exasperated look. "I’ll introduce you when the time’s... right." He sighs, clearly unimpressed with your answer. "The time’s right when I say it is." he quips, but his grin betrays the affection behind the teasing.
Beomgyu arches a brow at the sudden sound of the doorbell, his smirk widening with curiosity. "Is that who I think it is?" he quips, leaning back against the counter with an air of playful arrogance.
You glance at him, wide-eyed and suddenly flustered. You smile at him briefly before you quickly make your way to the door, your heart thudding in anticipation. The moment you open it, time seems to still. There stands Jungkook, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, his presence radiating comfort and confidence. His smile is subtle yet powerful, a silent reassurance that everything is under control.
You step outside, quietly closing the door behind you, shielding the moment from your brother's prying gaze. You fidget with your fingers as words evade you. "So...?" you finally manage, your voice trailing off.
Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps forward, closing the space between you. His arms encircle you in a gentle, protective embrace, his warmth instantly melting away your apprehensions. "I punched him." he says at last, his voice tinged with triumph.
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you pull back just enough to search his face. "What?" you ask, your voice rising an octave in disbelief.
"I punched him." he repeats, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "Right in the face. You should’ve seen him... completely caught off guard. Like...there's no way he actually had the nerve to mess with my girl."
A mix of shock and amusement washes over you as you lightly smack his chest. "Jungkook! That’s not something to be proud of." you admonish, though the corners of your mouth twitch with an unwilling smile. "Violence isn’t the answer."
His smirk deepens as he tilts his head, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, but in his case, it is."
You shake your head, exhaling a laugh despite yourself. "What am I gonna do with you?" you murmur, your tone caught between exasperation and fondness.
Jungkook’s expression softens, the teasing glimmer in his eyes replaced by an intensity that makes your breath hitch. "Y/N..." he begins, his voice low and steady. "You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll take care of everything... you, Beomgyu. You’ll both be safe. I promise."
His words hit you hard, the depth of his sincerity leaving you momentarily speechless. He steps even closer, his hands gently cupping your face as his thumbs brush against your cheeks. "I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I’m here." he vows, his tone resolute, his gaze locking onto yours.
You nod, your chest swelling with a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you were yearning for. "Just promise me..." he continues, his voice softening. "if anything ever happens again, you’ll tell me. Right away. No hiding, no secrets."
A lump forms in your throat as you nod again, unable to find the words to express the gratitude and trust coursing through you. Jungkook smiles faintly, the tension easing from his features, and he pulls you into another embrace. His arms wrap around you like a fortress, his chin resting lightly atop your head.
"I missed you." you whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.
"I missed you too." he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion as he tightens his hold on you. "More than you know."
After a few long moments, you pull back, your eyes meeting his as the world seems to shrink down to just the two of you. His gaze flickers to your lips, and before you can even register it, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.
The kiss is tender yet fervent, each movement brimming with unspoken emotions. You feel his love, his promise, and his unwavering devotion in the way his lips meld with yours, leaving no room for doubt that this is where you belong. The porch, the cool evening air, the distant sounds of the world... all of it fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in him.
It's as if a colossal weight has finally been lifted from your shoulders, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. In this fleeting, surreal moment, the world fades away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your heart and the warmth surrounding you.
Everything about this feels inexplicably right , the way he kisses you, the way his arms embrace you, the way his presence steadies your storm. You feel complete, as though the jagged pieces of your soul have found their perfect fit. You feel whole again.
"Umm, sooo sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." Beomgyu’s voice drawls out, cutting through the tender moment. You and Jungkook both pull apart and turn your heads sharply, only to see him mischievously peeking out of the window right beside the front door. “But, Y/n, your brother, who just got out of a coma, is really, really hungry and would love for you to finish cooking the jjajangmyeon you promised him.”
You roll your eyes, a flush creeping up your cheeks as Jungkook stifles a laugh. "And, of course..." Beomgyu continues, his grin widening. “He’d absolutely love to finally meet your boyfriend.” He emphasizes the last word, wagging his eyebrows dramatically at Jungkook, who chuckles deeply at your brother's antics.
You groan, covering your face in Jungkook’s chest as he wraps an arm protectively around you, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Gyu, you’re unbelievable.” you mumble, your voice muffled.
Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly. “Hey, priorities, okay? Food first, making out later.” he teases, shooting a mock salute before disappearing back into the house after shutting the window down.
Jungkook looks down at you, his smile soft and amused. “I like him.” he says with a chuckle. You pull back slightly, playfully glaring at him. “Don’t encourage him.” you warn, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.
“Come on.” Jungkook says, planting a quick kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go… we can't have your brother starving.” he says.
You laugh, grabbing his hand as the two of you step back inside. The warmth of your house envelops you, and for the first time in forever, you feel okay.
Beomgyu’s playful voice fills the air as he grins from the couch, the sibling bond you thought you’d lost now brighter than ever. Jungkook squeezes your hand, his steady presence a reminder that the hardest days are now way behind you.
In the kitchen, surrounded by laughter and the aroma of cooking, you glance at Jungkook. His soft smile says everything words can’t, filling your heart with a quiet peace.
For the first time in months, you’re not just surviving... you’re actually living. With Beomgyu back where he belongs and Jungkook by your side, your heart feels complete, wrapped in the comforting truth that this... this is what home is meant to feel like.
#jungkook fic#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#bts#bts jungkook#bts fic#enemies to lovers#jungkook fanfiction#exes to lovers
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patience running thin; jacaerys velaryon
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x f!reader
summary: 'You two were to be wed by the week’s end. He was getting impatient. You were both getting impatient.'
word count: 1.3k
warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, porn w/o plot, somewhat canon compliant, hot HOT make out, fingering, hair pulling, groping, high valyrian used w translation (if it is wrong i obviously don't know hv please forgive me), jacaerys is feral.
a/n: i had to write and publish something about jace pronto i hope everyone enjoys! i may write a part 2 😁 (this is so minimally proofread it is 1am)
READ PART TWO HERE
“What are you doing here my love?” You said as Jacaerys walked into your bedchamber and shut your door with his foot.
His eyebrows furrowed. “What can I not see my betrothed?” Jace leaned down crashing his lips upon yours. He needed this every day. Feeling your lips against his helped center him during this crazy war. He wrapped his arms around your back pulling you completely against him.
You two were to be wed by the week’s end. He was getting impatient. You were both getting impatient. He’s wanted nothing more than to be inside of you since the date was set. Every time you two went to share a kiss there was nothing but heat behind it, a simple peck would lead to deeper kisses. Pushed against walls. Hands anywhere they could reach. Hushed moans drowned out by kisses.
He brought his hands from around you to cup your face and yours went to unpin his cloak. It fell to the floor alongside his sheathed sword and a loud clank resonated around the room.
“I missed you today.” Jacaerys ran his nose from behind your ear down to your collarbone. Taking in your scent. A warm vanilla, he could moan at your smell alone. You had just had your nightly bath.
He walked you towards your bed until the two of you fell on top of your bed cover. He kneeled over you, his mouth was all over your neck and the parts of your chest that were exposed.
Your hands were entangled in his exquisite curls. Gasps and moans left your mouth. You spread your legs and he ran his hand up one, piling your dress around your waist.
“I do not think I can keep my honor intact much longer,” Jace spoke his hand entirely too close to your small clothes.
You let out small gasps reaching your head towards him, wanting nothing more than to grasp his lips yet again.
“Jacaerys.” You whined desperately against his lips. “I cannot wait.”
He groaned and pulled away from you shaking his head. “Do not say that.” He sat on the backs of his legs looking down at you. “I cannot hear that. We marry in less than four days and every day we get closer, I am finding my honor on a very very thin line. I cannot be in control of what happens if I hear that.”
“Does it really count as dishonor when we marry so soon?” You smiled.
“We cannot.” He began to look at your frame. He could see your hard nipples through the thin material of your sleepwear. Looking at your beautiful legs. All the way up to where your dress was just barely covering your most intimate area. You looked so beautiful in front of him.
“We can.” You sat up running your hands up his chest. “And you are wearing too many clothes.”
“We canno-.”
“Jacaerys! Do something, please. Anything I’ll take anything you’ll give me… please.” You couldn’t take it anymore. These past few weeks, you’ve become touch starved for your soon-to-be husband. But touched starved in a place you have never felt him. Between the promiscuous kisses against walls in empty corridors. To the heated make-outs in each other beds. It was simply too much for you. You couldn’t handle it anymore.
You saw something flash in Jace’s eyes at your words. He was on you in seconds. Pulling your night dress down just enough to see the swell of your breasts. “I do not wish to spoil myself of your entirety before we are vowed to each other. I wish not to ruin the anticipation. To see my wife in all of her glory.”
You moaned at his words. He took your lips, pushing you back down on the bed, moaning into your mouth. He was kneeling over you. Your hands were tangled in his hair. This was all too much for both of you.
His cock screaming for release inside of his tight pants. You felt your stomach twisting in such delight. Your skin was ablaze, feeling his hands and mouth all over you. He brought his mouth down to the tops of your breasts, groping one through your clothes with his slender hands.
“Ja-Jacaerys. More. Please.” You struggled to get out through gasps and groans.
Jacaerys pulled his mouth away from your breast. He dragged his hand down from your breast slowly down your side till it was past your dress and going up the inner side of your thigh.
You felt your breath get stuck in a lump in your throat as you anticipated his next move. His eyes never left yours. Beautiful browns. So deep right now they almost looked like were brown mixed with blood red.
He brought his other hand down with him to pull your thin undergarments off of your body. His body had a visceral reaction to the smell of your arousal, which filled his nose as soon as he removed your small clothes. “Ao jāhor sagon se morghon hen issa.” You will be the death of me.
You not being of Targaryen blood, you did not understand what he just said. But him speaking the ancient language of High Valyrian did something to you. “Jace.” You whined.
Jacaerys brought his finger forward rubbing it through you wet folds. You jerked when his finger lightly touched your clit.
His eyes sparked mischievously, “Do you find that pleasurable, my love.” You mewled when he circled his finger over it. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He continued to play with your clit as you threw your hand to the back of his head, rocking your hips against his finger. You whispered in his ear that you needed him to put it inside of you.
He quickly slipped his index finger inside of you and groaned at your tightness. He began to pump his finger. All he could do was look at you in pure awe. Your breasts struggled to free themselves as you arched your back at the pleasure. Sweat droplets pilling up on your forehead. Your mouth was wide open as you let out wanton moans and cries of his name.
“Oh, you are perfect. Please look at me.” Jacaerys spoke when he curled his index finger inside of you, trying to see what made you tick. Looks like he hit it right on the spot. He couldn’t help but smirk, feeling a bit arrogant.
You opened your eyes as you let out a loud whimper. Jace immediately crashed his lips to yours in an open mouth kiss full of tongue and spit and lust. He pulled away, keeping his finger curling into the soft spot inside of you.
You looked down at the tent in his pants and couldn’t stop yourself from reaching your hand out to touch your prince but he immediately protested.
“If you touch me there that line of honor I have will snap. Do you rea-,” Jacaerys began before he was cut off by a knock at your door. Jacaerys stopped what he was doing and looked at you with wide eyes. “Tell them to go.” He leaned down and whispered against your lips.
“I am feeling a bit unwell. Please could this wait till the morning?” Jace smiled at you and then took your lips again. His hand resumed its actions as well.
“Little prince, I know you’re in there. Your mother is waiting for you at the painted table.”
Both of your faces blanched as you recognized no one other than Daemon Targaryen on the outside of the door.
Jacaerys removed his finger from inside of you and you hissed. He gave you a quick kiss before getting out of your bed to straighten himself up.
After he donned his cloak again, he gave you another kiss. “I will see you in the morning, Princess.”
You smiled at him as he helped get you situated under your covers. He was out the door before you could help him fix his hair. You laughed at the thought.
READ PART TWO HERE
#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon smut#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon fanfic#jacaerys targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd
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Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long
June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.
Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.
The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.
From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.
And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.
Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.
I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.
People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.
They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.
This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!
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and i burn for you (and you don’t even know my name) | j.v
summary:
“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.
“I should leave-”
“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”
OR; Jacaerys is usually a lot more suave when it comes to ladies. That was before he met you.
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader
warnings: SMUT! 18+, MDNI, p in v, oral sex (fem receiving), doesn't follow canon, Jace has been aged up to 20!
word count: 7,5k words (oh)
author's note: this is very much is an indulgent story bc i miss Luke and Jace🥲 also inspired by close to you by gracie abrams ! pls let me know ALLL YOUR THOUGHTS!!! happy reading🫶🏼🫶🏼
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“Do you think my hair will get just as luscious as yours did after you got back from Winterfell?”
Jacaerys’ rolled his eyes at his brother. They were on their second day of journey from King’s Landing to Winterfell. It was to be Cregan Stark’s name day and he had cordially invited Jacaerys and his family to the celebrations. His mother could not just leave her throne at King’s Landing, and Daemon wouldn’t go without her. Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon where still too young to go, so only Jacaerys and Luke rode to Winterfell on dragonback. They could’ve made it in one day if they had wanted to, but they were in no hurry. Well, Jacaerys wasn’t. He knew what temperatures were expecting him. Luke didn’t, which was why he was so antsy to get there and almost didn’t pack the fur lined gloves their mother had laid out for them. Jacaerys couldn’t wait until the biting, cold winds hit Luke’s face for the first time. He would treasure the memory forever.
“Har har, good one,” Jacaerys said dryly. “The court jester should watch out or you will be going for his position in no time.”
Luke grinned at his older brother wickedly, opening his mouth once more to say another jest, Jacaerys had no doubt about it, but the words died on Luke’s tongue when the winds suddenly turned cold, whipping his hair around like icicles.
“Seven hells!” he cursed and Arrax let out a soft whine, not used to the coldness, just like his rider.
“Nyke ivestretan zirȳla, paktot Vermax?” Jacaerys whispered to his dragon, stroking Vermax’ neck with his gloved hand and the creature let out a puff of smoke. I warned him, didn’t I Vermax?
It wasn’t much longer until the two brothers reached Winterfell, their dragons landing just in front of the gates of town. Jacaerys could already see Cregan’s imposing figure standing by the gate as he climbed off of Vermax, carefully patting his snout. He took the bags off his saddle, Lucerys doing the same before leaning his forehead against Vermax’.
“Sȳz valonqar. Umbagon va, ao rȳbagon issa? Se jurnegon hen syt Arrax” Good boy. Stay near, you hear me? And take care of Arrax.
Vermax let out a soft rumble, pressing his snout against Jacaerys’ hand, before he and Arrax leapt back in the air, disappearing across the woods with few wing flaps. Jacaerys wasn’t sure where exactly they went, but he assumed it was some warm cave. Winterfell didn’t exactly have a dragon pit.
“Woah,” Luke gasped, astounded by the amount of white surrounding them.
“I told you,” Jacaerys said, shouldering his bags as Cregan approached them, several pages in tow.
“Prince Jacaerys!” Cregan’s voice boomed across the snowy field, before he stopped in front of the two princes. “What an honor to have you.”
The two men sized each other up, before breaking out in laughter as Cregan pulled Jacaerys into a hug.
“It is good to see you, my friend.”
“And you, Cregan,” Jacaerys replied, patting Cregan’s back that was cloaked in a warm fur. He really ought to ask him what animal pelt it was, he never seemed to be cold. Luke was shifting on his feet next to him and Jacaerys took a step back to introduce his brother.
“Lord Cregan, this is my brother.”
“Ah, the infamous Prince Lucerys,” Cregan said with a smile, shaking Luke’s hand. Based on his face, Jacaerys could tell his brother was struggling to keep a straight face; Cregan’s handshakes were nothing but firm.
“Lord Cregan, it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance.”
“I have heard much about you.”
“Ah,” Luke sighed, hand still enclasped in Cregan’s. “I’m sure all lies.”
“Only good things, your brother has shared high praises of you.”
Luke glanced over to his brother in surprise and Jacaerys only raised his eyebrows at him. Cregan finally let go of Luke’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder, sending the younger man nearly flying.
“How old are you, Lucerys?”
“Ten and eight, my lord. And please, call me Luke.”
“Very well,” Cregan said with a grin. “You’re the prime age of a young prince, Luke. Are you courting anyone?”
“No,” Luke replied, his cheeks reddening. Jacaerys only snickered, ignoring the deathly glare his younger brother sent him.
“No worry. There are a few of very beautiful ladies that will be attending, maybe one or two will catch your royal eyes.”
Cregan gave Jacaerys a knowing look, but he only rolled his eyes, stretching his hands, the coldness starting to seep into his gloves.
“I am about to lose feeling in my limbs, can we continue this dreadful conversation inside?”
“Of course. I apologize, I forget that you are not accustomed to our weather,” Cregan said, motioning for the pages to help the them with their bags. “Let’s get you into the warm, shall we?”
Cregan lead the two brothers towards the Great Keeps, giving Luke a very brief rundown of the grounds as he did. Jacaerys could already feel his fingers warming up; he even dared to take off his gloves.
“We are currently having tea, I would love for you to join but if you wish to get some rest, we can meet again after,” Cregan said, stopping in front of the dining halls.
Jacaerys glanced over to Luke, who only gave him a shrug. “I could do with some food.”
“As do I.”
“Very well.”
Cregan pushed open the door to reveal a lively dining hall, one that Jacaerys was familiar with. He spotted faces he recognized, when his eyes stopped in the middle of the table, surprised to see Lady Alysanne Blackwood sitting next to you, someone he didn’t recognize. Immediately, you turned your head to look at him, as if you had felt his eyes on you. Jacaerys tried not to falter under your gaze.
“Who’s that?” Luke whispered and Jacaerys fought the urge to elbow him.
“The Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon!” Cregan announced, causing a ruckus as everyone pushed their chair back to stand. You only followed after Alysanne gently nudged you, folding your hands in front.
“Thank you for having us,” Jacaerys said, him and Lucerys both bowing. “Please, sit.”
As everyone took their seats again, Cregan led him and Luke to the middle of the table, where three seats were empty next to Alysanne and you.
“My princes, may I introduce Lady Alysanne of House Blackwood and Lady-”
Jacaerys almost tuned out Cregan’s voice as he introduced you, but it was like your name was ringing in his ears. He was sure he had never been quite taken with any lady as with you right from the first meeting. Jacaerys cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out even.
“Lady Alysanne, it’s nice to see you again,” Jacaerys said, bowing to her as Luke followed suit.
“The pleasure is mine, your graces. I hope your journey was swift,” Alysanne replied. “I hear you travelled on dragonback.”
That seemed to pique your interest as you straightened your back, eying Jacaerys with a new found interest. Jacaerys tried to ignore the heat unfurling in his lower stomach. He had seemed to take beat too long to reply, because Luke cut in, throwing a look at his older brother.
“Yes, my lady. It only took us a day and half’s journey.”
“Ah, I envy you. To travel on dragonback and have a short journey. It took me a moon’s turn to get from Raventree Hall to Winterfell,” Alysanne said with a small sigh, turning to you. “Nearly took you two moon’s turns, didn’t it?”
Jacaerys had kept his eyes steadfastly on Alysanne as she spoke, but when she turned to you, he took the chance to do the same. You nodded, fingers between the stem of the chalice you had been drinking from. His eyes lingered on your slender fingers for longer than they should have.
“Two moon’s turns is quite a long journey,” Jacaerys finally pressed out, hoping his voice didn’t sound odd. “Where in the Seven Kingdoms does your house lay?”
Your eyes met his for the first time and Jacaerys felt like he was looking in the eyes of a predator, as if he hadn’t been riding a dragon for nearly all of his life.
“I am from a land beyond Essos,” you finally spoke, voice as smooth as honey. Before you could continue, Alysanne whispered something under her breath and you let out a small laugh, shaking your pretty head, speaking again. “I’m afraid we’re not part of the Seven Kingdoms, your grace.”
The way you accentuated the honorific had Jacaerys sweat, something he never thought he’d do in Winterfell. He managed to give you a wry smile; luckily, Cregan finally gestured towards the empty seats and as Jacaerys sat down - two seats away from you - he let out a breath of relief, desperate for a quick respite. His behavior was mortifying and unbefitting for a crown prince.
“Are you alright?” Luke whispered from his left as he reached for a particularly large meat pie. “It is unlike you to let me do the talking.”
Jacaerys waited as the butler poured him some mulled wine, only stopping him when it was nearly full to the brim. He lifted the chalice, taking a big drink from it, feeling Luke’s eyes on him the whole time.
“It appears the journey has tired me more than I had expected.”
Luke narrowed his eyes at him, but as soon as he bit into the meat pie, the suspicions slid of his face.
“Seven hells, what kind of meat do they put in these?” he almost moaned, already reaching for another. Slob, Jacaerys thought, reaching for some bread himself, leaving his brother to his own world as he discovered the cuisine of the North. Jacaerys glanced over to his friend, but Cregan was in the middle of a conversation with Alysanne; they were speaking in hushed tones, Jacaerys could barely make out a word even though he was sitting right next to them.
The way Cregan was whispering to Alysanne suggested a certain familiarity; a familiarity that Jacaerys was surprised by; he hadn’t known that Cregan had taken on a lover, and Alysanne no less, though he could see what had drawn his friend to her.
Jacaerys didn’t pay attention for half a second before his eyes impulsively laid on you. He didn’t want to be caught staring, but you seemed preoccupied listening to Alysanne as she talked, so he allowed himself a few moments to take you in. Your hair fell over your shoulder in soft waves, the bodice of your dress was snug around your chest. The more he looked, the dryer his throat became, suddenly the bread in his mouth tasted days old. Letting out a soft cough, Jacaerys reached for his wine, nearly finishing all of it in one to, desperate to quench his thirst.
He wondered if all women from your land looked like you or if it was just you that had him so enthralled. Jacaerys was lost in thoughts so deeply, he didn’t even realize that Cregan had turned his attention to him.
“Did someone catch your eye?”
“What?”
Jacaerys teared his eyes from you to look at his friend, who was sipping on his wine, eyebrows raised. Despite trying to seem nonchalant, the crown prince knew a pink flush creeped on his cheeks; he’d blame it on the wine if Cregan would ask.
“I was enjoying the festivities.”
“You’re surely enjoying something.”
“I’m positively not enjoying this conversation,” Jacaerys sniffed. Cregan laughed, placing his heavy hand on his shoulder. Jacaerys tried not to falter under it.
“I like her. She’s a good friend of Lady Alysanne’s. Though if her behavior grates you: her land does not have a king or queen, so she might not be familiar with our customs. She is also especially forward; I fear that was a given, considering the company she seeks.”
Jacaerys knew immediately what Cregan was alluding to. Alysanne had a reputation for not holding her tongue when something displeased her, there were a good handful of people who quite dislike her for it.
“I’m sure you will get along with her fine, my prince.”
Jacaerys hummed, glancing over to you for a split second before looking away for fear of being caught again, but in doing so, he missed you looking back at him with raised brows. After the table was cleared, you and Alysanne excused yourselves to your chambers. Jacaerys stared after you until you disappeared from sight, his hands clasped.
“Let me show you to your chambers for some rest,” Cregan offered. “Jacaerys, I had the same chambers prepared as last time.”
The three men walked through the hallways of Winterfell once more, stopping in front of Jacaerys’ chambers.
“Someone will fetch you for supper, please get some rest in the meantime,” Cregan said, clasping Jacaerys on the back. Jacaerys glanced over at Luke, who waved him off, so he entered his chambers as Cregan walked Luke to his, with the latter chattering excitedly.
As the door shut behind Jacaerys, the chambers were engulfed in silence and he was finally able to breathe. The room was comfortably decorated, of course in no way as lavish as his chambers in King’s Landing, but everything he would need was there. Taking off his cloak and his doublet, Jacaerys hung them over the small bench that sat near the fire, before he laid down on the bed, staring up the canopy with a sigh.
Gods, he really needed to get it together. He would not allow himself to act like such a fool in front of you again. He couldn’t even understand what it was about you that had him so shaken to the core. Jacaerys had never been the kind of man who stuttered around when it came to women. He knew what he had to offer, he knew a lot of women found his status appealing. But something about you was just…. Infuriating. It made him lose his footing.
Jacaerys was still questioning his life choices that led to this moment, when the door suddenly flung open, and he knew immediately who it was without having to move; there was only one person in whole Winterfell who would barge into his chambers like this.
“Your chambers are so much nicer than mine!” Luke crowed, throwing his hands up in the air before he dropped onto the bed next to Jacaerys. “I do have to say, even though it is freezing outside, the Northeners know how to keep it comfy in their chambers.”
Jacaerys let out a small sigh.
“What are you doing here, Luke?”
“Gods, why are you such in a sour mood?”
“Maybe because I am tired from the journey and you’re sitting here talking about meaningless things,” Jacaerys lamented with a pointed look in his younger brother’s direction, who only pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Let me move onto meaningful topics then,” he agreed. “You didn’t tell me Lord Cregan is betrothed to Lady Alysanne.”
“He’s not, as far as I know,” Jacaerys replied, resigning himself to the fact that Luke wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. “I was taken by surprise just as you were.”
Luke didn’t answer; for a brief second Jacaerys wondered if he had fallen asleep, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be happy about or not.
“What did you think of her friend?” Luke finally asked and Jacaerys rolled his eyes. There it was. “She’s pretty, right? I think she might be interested in me.”
“What makes you think she would be interested in you?” Jacaerys pressed out, annoyed. He knew Luke was baiting him, but what if he wasn’t? His younger brother turned over to look at him, the corners of his mouth tugging up.
“I knew it. You’re absolutely smitten with her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I barely exchanged two words with her,” Jacaerys said defensively.
“Exactly. She makes you shiver in your boots like a child and swallow your words like Vermax does goats.”
“Blasphemous,” Jacaerys snapped, his cheeks growing hot. “I’m the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms, I do not get flustered around a lady.”
“I cannot wait until you talk to her again,” Luke remarked gleefully.
Jacaerys reached over to grab one of the fluffy pillows that was resting against the headboard to whack Luke in the face with it.
The next day, Jacaerys found himself with some time by himself. Cregan was greeting some more of the guests that were arriving for his celebration that evening, and Luke had wanted to see the training grounds of Winterfell, so Jacaerys ventured out by himself, walking the walls. He passed a few guards, who bowed respectfully as they marched past him. They asked if he got lost, if they should walk him back inside where it was warm, but he declined.
Despite the cold snow that was falling from the sky, Jacaerys enjoyed leaving the castle for a few moments. Winterfell was peaceful, the white that covered the grounds allowed him to breathe, a stark contrast to the grounds of King’s Landing. As the cold winds started to pick up, Jacaerys turned to head back, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing by yourself at the wall, staring out at the distance. Jacaerys hesitated.
His interaction with you last night at supper was… Passable. He had managed to keep the conversation going, he still wasn't happy with himself. But this was unfamiliar territory, he hadn’t ever been alone with you. What if he made a fool of himself?
Before Jacaerys could decide what to do, his feet already carried him over to you. At the sounds of the snow crunching under his soled shoes, you turned around, your eyebrows risen in surprise. Your cheeks were red from the cold, despite the fur-lined cloak that engulfed your shoulders.
“Oh, it’s you,” you said, your breath visible in the cold air.
“Only me,” Jacaerys confirmed, bowing his head slightly in greeting. You did the same. “Come out here for some quiet?”
“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.
“I should leave-”
“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”
You added the honorific after a brief pause, and Jacaerys stayed rooted in his spot. You seemed like you were in deep thought, and your voice was hesitant when you spoke again.
“I am unsure as to what the difference is, if I’m being quite honest. Do you want me to refer to you as my prince or as your Grace?”
“You can refer to me as anything you want,” Jacaerys said quickly. Too quickly.
The frown on your face smoothed, a grin growing in its stead. “Indeed?”
“I meant,” Jacaerys pressed, trying to sustain any sort of dignity. “You’re not from Westeros, you do not need to address me as your Grace or my prince.”
“I wouldn’t want to seem disrespectful,” you added. “Folks are already whispering about the “foreign lady”, I do not wish to give them more reason to be suspicious.”
Jacaerys felt a flash of hot anger coursing through him at the belief of anyone uttering a bad word about you.
“Are you being mistreated, my lady?”
A laugh escaped your lips. “I did not tell for you to fight in my honor, I have endured worse than some meaningless gossip.”
You tossed your hair back, and for a brief second, your scent carried over to Jacaerys’ nose. You smelled… Sweet. A scent that was unfamiliar to him, but not exactly unwelcome. With a small sigh, you turned your head to look at him. Damn it, did you say something?
“So... Your grace or my prince?”
For some reason, either address didn’t feel right. Well. They felt right, but not right. Never before had Jacaerys felt anything when being referred to with the correct title except for a sense of respect and pride that he was being recognized for his status. But for some reason, having you address him with either had Jacaerys feel things in regions where he shouldn’t. And both seem equally catastrophic.
“Either is fine,” he finally settled on. “But if no one is around… It is alright for you to call me by my given name.”
“Jacaerys?”
A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of his name rolling of your tongue so easily. He was done for. No matter what you referred to him as, it made him weak in the knees.
“Or Jace.”
“Is that not improper?” you asked. “I would hate for folks to think I’m getting too familiar with the crown prince.”
He definitely wouldn’t mind getting too familiar with you.
“My friends call me that… And people that I’m close with.”
A corner of your mouth tugged up in a grin. “You wish to be close with me?”
Jacaerys flushed, stuttering. “I-“
“I’m only jesting,” you said, your gloved hand reaching out to touch his arm and even though there were about five layers between, Jacaerys could *feel* your skin on his. He was in trouble. “I will address you properly in public but if no one is around, Jacaerys….”
Your voice trailed off and you took a step towards him, leaning in so you could speak to him in a small whisper.
“I hope we can become friends.”
With that, you bowed your head, stepping back and turned to depart, leaving Jacaerys standing by himself. He exhaled a breath - a breath he had not realized he had been holding this whole time.
Somewhere in the distance, Jacaerys could hear Vermax screech out, no doubtedly feeling exactly what his dragon rider was struggling with.
“Yes, Vermax, you and me both,” Jacaerys muttered with a small sigh, enduring the cold for a little while longer before he retired inside, knowing he had to start getting ready for Cregan’s celebrations soon.
“How much longer are you going to stare at your reflection?”
Jacaerys resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He was tense enough as it was, giving into Luke’s teasing was not going to help it.
“I’m representing mother at this celebration, a single hair out of place and rumors about my legitimacy as heir might start,” Jacaerys pointed out, wiping off the fleck of dusts that sat on the shoulder of his doublet.
“Of course, we would not want that,” Luke said, his voice taking that annoying tone which Jacaerys knew meant he wasn’t taking him serious. “You are most certainly not trying to look absolutely perfect for a certain lady.”
Jacaerys met Luke’s eyes through the mirror, his forehead creased. “I did not ask you to wait for me. No one is stopping you from going by yourself.”
Luke sighed, pushing himself off of the bench to approach him, hands reaching out to smooth out Jacaerys’ cloak.
“And who is going to tame that one wild curl that always does whatever it wants at the back of your head?”
Jacaerys winced when Luke gently tugged on said curl, setting it in its place, before the younger prince grinned at him through the reflection as the two of them stood in front of the mirror, Luke's shoulders slightly higher than Jacaerys'. He despised the fact that his younger brother was starting to overtake him in height. Jacaerys hoped that Joffrey would stay shorter than him.
“You look fine, Jace,” Luke assured him. “And even if a hair might be out of place, she will think it charming.”
Jacaerys decided against deeming that comment with an answer, instead straightening his shoulders.
“Let’s go then.”
The two brothers headed the the Great Hall and the closer they got, the louder the music became. Jacaerys tried not to pick on his clothes as they walked through the hallways, knowing he was just being antsy at this point. When they finally reached the threshold of the hall, the herald bowed to them both respectfully, waiting until the music quietened down, the guests looking at them.
“Presenting His Grace, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne, and his brother, Prince Lucerys Velaryon of House Targaryen!” the herald announced.
The guests all bowed, which Jacaerys and Lukereturned, before they were being led to their seats and Jacaerys tried not to stumble over his feet when he realized that Cregan had sat Luke to his right, whereas Jacaerys sat next to him.
Right next to you.
Jacaerys ignored Luke’s smirk as he sat down, and instead offered you a small smile.
“My lady.”
“Your grace.”
You sent him a conspiratorial smile, before your attention refocused to Cregan, who suddenly stood, lifting his chalice.
"Good evening, my dear guests. On this occasion, the celebration of my name day, I am deeply honored to be surrounded by such loyal friends, family, and allies. I thank everyone who made their long and burdensome journey to celebrate this day with me. Raise your cups, my friends, enjoy the festivities, the music and most importantly, the food. Now, let the feast begin!"
Everyone clapped as Cregan took his seat again, the lively music beginning to play. Immediately, people rose to occupy the dancefloor. You stayed seated, sipping on your wine and Jacaerys watched you out of the corner of his eye, reaching for his own wine, hoping it would ease his nerves. You looked pretty; wearing a dark red dress, the fabric seeming to melt against your skin like it was sown onto your body. Jacaerys tried to not let his gaze linger too much on your cleavage, which was tasteful, but still incredibly distracting. He couldn’t help but think how you and him seemed to be dressed to compliment each other.
“You look very beautiful,” Jacaerys blurted out. You turned to him, eyebrows risen in surprise and his cheeks reddened. “I apologize if it was too forward, I-”
“You look very handsome yourself,” you said, returning the favor with a grin. “At least I know what took you so long to get here.”
By now, Jacaerys was sure that the color of his face rivaled the color of your dress.
“Thank you,” he said, fingers tracing the stem of the chalice. “I try to look my best.”
“It is working in your favor, my prince,” you all but purred quietly, making Jacaerys grip his chalice so tightly, his knuckles turned white.
“Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Jacaerys pressed out, letting a small sigh pass his lips. “I apologize. I am usually more… Composed,” he admitted. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were biting back a smile.
“And you’re not composed right now?”
“No. You…” he paused, letting go of the chalice, stretching his hand out. “You make me nervous.”
He dared to look up to you, searching for any sign of distaste, only to see your gaze focused on his hands, before you lifted your eyes to meet his.
“How?”
“You vex me.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
Jacaerys let out a breathless laughter, shaking his head. “In a very much not good way. This is not behavior befit for a crown prince.”
“Well, it’s just your luck that I have not a single idea of what behavior is befit for a crown prince,” you assured him, placing your hand on his, presumably to console him. It had quite the opposite reaction. “It is just me, you may speak freely.”
“I-” Jacaerys paused, his eyes darting around the countless of guests mingling in the Great Hall, the threat of a listening ear everywhere. “I cannot.”
You nodded in understanding, but Jacaerys could tell that his answer had disappointed you by the way you turned your head away from him. Silently, he cursed himself, feeling the desire for you coiling in his stomach, but unable to act on it.
For the rest of the night, Jacaerys tried to pick up the conversation with you again, and while you did speak with him, it seemed dull, like you were uninterested. He felt incredibly stupid, knowing he had messed up, but despite that, he couldn’t jump over his shadow to address the problem. So he didn’t. He pushed his disappointment in himself aside and tried his best to control the jealousy he felt whenever you accepted the dance of another man, acting like didn’t care at all, especially when Luke was watching, shaking his head.
Cregan was luckily too busy to entertain his guests to meddle, occasionally drawing Jacaerys into his side to clink their cups. Overall, (despite his personal failings) the celebration was a success. It was late in the night, nearing the hour of the wolf when Jacaerys finally retired to his chambers. He had dropped Luke off at his own chambers just before, his younger brother having one too many of the mulled wine and immediately dozing off in clothes.
Shutting the door with his foot, Jacaerys unpinned his cloak, tugging his doublet off, draping it over the small ottoman. His hands were in the collar of his tunic, ready to take it off when short raps on his door made him pause. Was that Cregan fetching him for another drink?
Jacaerys opened the door and his eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw who it was.
“My lady…”
You were standing in front of him, dark cloak slung around your shoulders, about the last person he had expected to come knocking on his door after his last conversation with you had gone. Your face was bare from any trace of cosmetics, but your cheeks still held a rosy glow. Jacaerys peered out into the dark hallway, expecting a handmaiden or anyone accompanying you, but alas, you were by yourself.
“It is late. Is something the matter?” he asked, concerned.
“Everything is fine,” you assured him. “I was feeling a bit restless, I was wondering if you were up for some company?”
Despite feeling exhausted just a few seconds ago, Jacaerys was wide awake now, his heart thrumming with excitement at the prospect of spending time with you alone. But he couldn’t help but hesitate, questioning whether it was smart of him to put himself in a situation he couldn’t control, especially with you.
You sensed his hesitation, tilting your head curiously.
“I can leave, if you wish.”
Before you could even attempt to retreat, Jacaerys’ hand shot out to stop you, and as he saw the amusement on your face, he knew you had never intended to leave.
Minx, he thought to himself, opening his door wider to let you inside. Swiftly, you passed by him and Jacaerys made sure no one saw you enter, before shutting the door. As he turned around, he found you had already settled on the cushioned couch, appearing comfortably at ease.
“These are usually my chambers I stay in when I visit Winterfell,” you said nonchalantly, taking in the chambers and Jacaerys’ possessions that laid scattered around. “You can imagine my surprise when Cregan told me it was occupied for someone else when I arrived.”
Jacaerys tried not to imagine you laying in his bed as he sat down on the bench.
“They are the chambers I stayed in when I visited last time. I assume Cregan wanted me to feel comfortable.”
“The lengths we would go to to make sure you felt comfortable,” you said with a look in his direction and Jacaerys flushed, clearing his throat.
“Do you like these chambers for a reason or are you merely a creature of habit?”
“These are the only chambers that don’t have the fire place directly facing the bed,” you explained, your arms gesturing to the layout of the chambers.
“I know the Northeners like to keep the fire on at night to feel cozy, but I tend to get a little… Hot.”
Oh.
His mouth ran a little dry and he only managed to blink at you, as you grinned, your eyes slowly trailing down his body.
“I imagine it is the same for you. What is it again, the motto of your house?”
Jacaerys opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out of it.
“Fire and blood?” finally pressed out and you arched an eyebrow at him.
“Are you asking or telling me?”
“Telling.”
Your mouth quirked up in a smirk and you brushed your hair back with a flick. “I must say, I have to admit that I thought you less nervous when no one was around.”
“You thought me less nervous when it is just you and I alone in a room?”
“Now when you say it like that…” you mused. “I told you that you do not have to worry about your behavior, I do not know any of the rules you have to abide by.”
“That’s not why I’m nervous,” Jacaerys said with a small laugh and you creased your forehead, looking at him questioningly.
“Is that not what you told me at supper?”
Jacaerys sighed, a chuckle leaving his lips and he had no other choice than to confess.
“You make me nervous because I do not know how to act around you. You make me stutter, lose my footing. I was never anything less than charming when it comes to talking to ladies, but you for some reason…”
Your face contorted from confusion to understanding and then glee.
“And I was starting to think you were letting me down easy.”
“I- what?” The indignation in Jacaerys’ tone made you laugh. “Let you down? Surely you must be jesting.”
“What was I to think? I was not exactly being subtle, my prince.”
Jacaerys bit down on his lower lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, but he eased off.
“I’m trying my best to uphold my honor. And yours.”
You let out a small laugh, lifting your hand to deftly unhook your cloak. Jacaerys averted his eyes as soon as the cloak slid off your shoulders, but he could see out of the corner of his eyes that you were wearing nothing but a nightgown with long lacey sleeves. Jacaerys had never seen a nightgown like that before.
“Would it not be dishonorable to deny yourself what you truly want?”
Jacaerys dared to glance at you, swallowing thickly when he realized that you had come closer, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. He exhaled sharply, feeling his cock stirring in his breeches, thankful that his tunic was untucked, covering his excitement.
“What if your future husband would cast you aside knowing you have laid with another man?”
You smiled at him, your hand reaching out to trace the neckline of his tunic.
“I think if my husband were to cast me aside for enjoying the pleasure of sex, he is not the right man for me.”
Jacaerys held his breath as you looked at him through your lashes. He managed to stay strong for about three more seconds, before he let out a frustrated groan, his hand curling around to pull you close, pressing his lips on yours.
You sighed softly into the kiss, your mouth pliable as Jacaerys moved against them, the kiss nearly driving him insane.
He needed more.
Tightening his grip on your waist, Jacaerys pulled you into his lap, situating your legs on either side of him.
“I have been going insane,” Jacaerys whispered against your lips, his finger tips dancing up your arm. “Trying to keep my composure, act like a prince, but one look from you and I lost the ability to string a sentence together.”
“Please,” you gasped as his hand wrapped around the back of your head to tilt it back, placing featherlight kisses on the column of your neck.” Cregan was telling me to behave - for once - because his great friend, the crown prince of the Seven Realms was to attend his nameday celebrations, but how could I when you’re just so-”
Your sentence trailed off in a sigh and Jacaerys pulled back to look at you, an eyebrow arched.
“I am so...?”
“Infuriatingly handsome.” Your voice was breathless as you spoke, hands slipping under his tunic and Jacaerys lifted his arms to help you take it off before you discarded it to the floor carelessly. “Like you were carved out of marble.”
You caressed him with your fingertips over his chest, your touch so tantalizing he had to shift his hips to ease the pressure on his breeches, a motion that did not go unignored by you at the sound of the small whimper that left your mouth, a sound that went directly to his south. He leaned in to kiss you again, before maneuvering you off his lap, standing so he could lead you over to the bed. His touch was gentle, but firm as you followed his lead to lay down at the edge of the bed, your nightgown bunching up at your calves.
“You don’t even know the affect you have on me… You had me on my knees,” he murmured, pushing your gown up. “I’m the crown prince of the seven realms. I don’t kneel for anyone.”
He might make an exception for you.
With his hands on your calves, pulling you closer, Jacaerys got to his knees, peppering small kisses on your inner thigh, making you squirm. He could smell the warmth of your musk as he neared your cunt, your smallclothes displaying a small patch of wetness he couldn’t help but be thrilled by.
“Lift your hips,” Jacaerys said, and when you did, he tugged your smallclothes off easily. He let out a soft breath when coming face to face with your cunt, sliding one finger through your folds. The moan out of your mouth sounded like heaven to him.
“Jace…” you sighed and his breeches got impossibly tighter, but he wanted you to finish first before he could even think about himself. Jacaerys applied a little pressure on your pearl with his thumb, inching closer, his breath hot on your lips before he licked a strip up your cunt. You responded with a small groan, your hands tangled into his locks and he knew he was on the right track.
He kept drawing circles on the small nub over your cunt, his tongue exploring between your folds, trying to elicit every moan and sigh out of your mouth possible, repeating his motions that seemed to please you the most. Soon, Jacaerys had you writhing on his bed, your hand tightened around his hair in a grip that nearly hurt, but he didn’t care.
“Jacaerys…” you breathed out, your hips lifting from the bed; he merely pushed it down with his free hand. “Don’t- I’m so..”
Jacaerys nuzzled his mouth even further into your cunt he not thought possible, the circles he was drawing onto your pearl becoming tighter, smaller until you let out an especially loud moan of his name, your cunt pulsating.
With a breath heave, you fell back into the cushions and Jacaerys pulled back from between your legs, not without leaving a lingering kiss on your inner thigh. You looked absolutely marvelous, blissed out on his bed, your sweaty hair sticking to your forehead. If he had to guess, he must not look any better, his entire face must be covered in you.
“Is this behavior befit for a crown prince?” you asked, chest still heaving. Jacaerys quirked a smile at you, brushing his hair back.
“For a lady like you, without question.”
A small laughter escaped your lips, and you tugged him down to kiss him, your hands slipping beneath his trousers and then his breeches, wrapping around his cock. Jacaerys hissed, bucking into your hands, realizing he was still fully clothes from the waist down. Giving you one last kiss, he reluctantly pulled away from you, taking his boots off, and then slowly pushing his trousers off, his smallclothes along with it.
He couldn’t help but flush as he stood in front of your inquisitive eyes, still wearing your nightgown but looking incredibly debauched, your gaze… Hungry. He got on the bed, crawling towards you on his knees, fingers gingerly pushing your nightgown off your shoulders - you didn’t lift a hand to help him, but merely watched as his eyes grew wide when he finally pushed your nightgown down, as it pooled around your waist.
“You were made by the gods,” he mumbled into your skin, mouth latching on the sensitive skin of your tits, his other hand gently rolling your nipples until it formed into a stiff peak. He leaned up, kissing you deeply and as he moaned into your mouth, he pulled away, breathing hard.
“Do you…” he trailed off, unsure how to word it.
“I will die an immediate death if I don’t,” you said, extremely serious. “Lay back.”
As Jacaerys settled into the mountain of cushions, you knelt in front of him, nightgown long gone. You positioned yourself over his lap, just as he had earlier, hand wrapping around his cock to guide it to your cunt, which was still sopping wet. Jacaerys let out a slow, guttural groan as you lowered yourself onto his cock, until he was fully sheated inside of you.
“Are you feeling alright?” he pressed out, his hands finding your hips to pull out incase you were feeling uncomfortable.
“Perfect,” you breathed, lips parted and eyes hooded. You leaned a hand on his chest, impulsively rolling your hips and Jacaerys moaned, throwing his head back. Slowly, the two of you found your rhythm as you rode him, in slow, but deep hip thrusts. His chambers was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin, whispers of his name and moans of yours. It wasn’t long until Jacaerys felt the familiar tension in his lower stomach, knowing he was close, while you were still moving on top of him, head thrown back.
If he had it his way, he would shoot his load into you, making you his, but the last thing he wanted was to trap you, so he stilled your hips, holding you in place and turning you so he was on top of you. Your hair fanned out on the bed, and Jacaerys kissed you, tongue licking into your mouth as he drove his cock into you with deep, but slow thrusts; his thumb was pressing into your pearl simultaneously.
“Jace,” you whined, your walls clenching and he nearly lost it right then and there. “Please…”
Jacaerys snapped his hips into you harder, leaning his head against yours as he did and after one particular deep thrust, you held onto his bicep as you moaned his name in a way that would ingrain into his brain for the rest of his life and he quickly pulled out, before he emptied his load in thick, white spurts onto your stomach. With a small groan, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed next to you, neither speaking for a few seconds, catching your breath.
Jacaerys was the first to rise, pushing his hair back, standing to find a wet rag to clean you up. His touch was gentle as he cleaned your stomach, disposing of the dirty rag, lingering on the side of the bed.
“Do you want to stay? For a little while, at least?”
You turned your head to look at him, corners of your mouth tugging up. “If you’ll have me, my prince.”
Jacaerys snorted out a laughter, settling into bed next to you, making sure to pull up the blanket to cover your naked body, even though a warmth was emanating from you, it was rivaling his own.
“Are you sure you’re not a distant kin of Aegon the Conqueror?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “You would fit right into our house.”
“I find it very flattering that you think I have royal blood in me,” you laughed as your fingertips traced along his arm.
“It is only a question,” Jacaerys mused. “I think you would get along well with my mother.”
“A foreign girl in front of the esteemed queen of the Seven Realms? I wouldn’t stand a chance. Her royal knights would behead me as soon as I curtsied the wrong way.”
And as the fire crackled in the far corner of the chambers, pressed against your side, Jacaerys knew that while you spoke in jest, he wouldn’t mind you meeting his mother, even if that was highly unlikely. Coming the following morning it seemed like he would never see you again, with you returning home and him returning to King’s Landing.
And while he was a dragon rider, he wasn’t sure if that distance would be easy for him to cover, considering the fact he had duties he had to attend to, he couldn't just leave whenever he pleased, no matter how much he wanted to.
“I really enjoyed your company,” you then said, your voice a bittersweet tone. Jacaerys pressed his nose against your neck, biting back the question if you wanted to come with him, see King’s Landing. He knew he was being foolish.
“As did I yours.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
author's note: hehehehehe did u like it?
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Nameday Celebration
Summary ✩ Call it recklessness or sheer stupidity, but Benjicot is determined not to miss his lovers nameday…Even if it means sneaking into enemy territory for the night
Warnings ✩ Smut, oral sex, established relationship, brief mention of violence, fingering, foul language
The music around you was loud, and though it was quite merry, it did nothing to lift your spirits as you sat at the high table.
All around you, you were surrounded by the happy chatter of other lords and ladies that had travelled from all over to be here. Some of them even shared the same last name as you did, Bracken. But even though the evening was filled with music and light, warmth and laughter from your family, you still felt…disappointed.
You felt terrible, of course, sitting there in your fancy dress and feeling ungrateful at the ball that was thrown in your name—but you couldn’t help it.
People had come from all over the Riverlands for you, uprooted their lives and paid good coin on gifts for you, but none of that was what you truly wanted.
Your father had gone through great lengths to throw you this ball, spending coin that he didn’t have just to celebrate and maybe find you a suitable match.
By all means, it was supposed to be an amazing night in your life and yet you were so caught up in your feelings that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be thankful.
All over, you constantly spotted sigils from houses such as the Freys, the Mootons, and the Mallisters. Even the Tully’s had made an effort to appear but none of those sigils were the ones that you wanted to see.
None of those sigils belonged to him.
Admittedly, you knew that you were a fool to ever think that he’d show up here. Your father would have sooner died than invite a Blackwood into his home, let alone have one around his daughter.
It was a feeble thought, and it was stupid of you to even be upset. Of course Benji would not show up your nameday celebration. You had known that ever since it was announced.
Your lover himself had told you that as much as he wanted to, there was just no way for him to celebrate your nameday with you. He sure as hell wasn’t invited and it would be too risky and too bloody to just show up unannounced.
The chaos that would ensue if a band of Blackwoods showed up would ruin your nameday for certain. And as much as you wanted to see him, you understood that his absence was for the best.
Still though, the feeling of disappointment had its grip on you.
You tried to act normal and you tried to make it seem like you weren’t utterly gutted, but you knew that your emotions had spilled out anyways. You were quiet and withdrawn, choosing to stay at the high table in the seat of honor rather than get up and dance with every one else.
You had chosen to sip on your wine rather than prance around with a man you didn’t care about.
You knew it was petty, but if your father wanted to be petty as well and not invite the Blackwoods, then you vowed not dance with anyone other than Benji.
It was problematic, seeing you were the guest of honor and you had declined many lords already, but you held fast. Each and every man that came to your table was turned away, to the displeasure of your father.
His ulterior motives of trying to find you a husband were not as discreet as he thought them to be. Every time the word ‘no,’ left your lips to a potential match, his lips pressed into a thinner and thinner line.
His patience with you was slowly running out.
Even though others might not have picked up on your sullen mood, he did. You were your father’s daughter after all. It was easy enough for him to tell that something was wrong, and whatever it was, he wasn’t happy about it.
After making sure that the coast was clear and that was no one was listening, he leaned in and addressed you with distain in his voice.
“Is something the matter with the celebration, Y/N?” He asked tightly.
His eyes, similar to yours, bore into you from behind his mask. Curiosity along with annoyance could be seen pooling inside them.
The answer that you had been mentally rehearsing all night finally had its chance to slip out.
“No father. Nothing is wrong with the celebration. Everything you have done for me is beautiful and much appreciated.”
Your father clenched his jaw as you took a sip of your wine, trying your best to avoid his heated stare.
“Is that so?” A small scoff left his lips. “Then why is it that you refuse to act the least bit of happy?”
You swallowed as your mind flickered to Benji. You were grateful that your mother had insisted on a masquerade ball, and that your mask was big enough to cover your face. If it didn’t, you feared you’d give much more than you wanted to away.
“I’m not…unhappy, father,” A sigh left your lips as you looked to the dance floor. Your eyes lingered on all of the couples who got to dance freely. On all of the ladies that got to be with who they wanted to without it ending in a bloody civil war.
Involuntarily, envy pooled in your chest.
“I’m just..tired, that’s all,” You continued, hoping your lie was enough.
It wasn’t.
Another scoff could be heard from your father as his chair scraped. From beside you, on your left, your mother looked on worriedly as he hissed.
“Tired? How can you be tired, daughter, when you have not even bothered to grace the dance floor?”
Silence was heard on your part as you swallowed again. You kept your eyes in front of you for fear that you’d say something to make him angrier. It wasn’t your intentions to get into it with your family, not tonight, so you kept your eyes straight and your mouth shut.
You focused on the many people on the dance floor as your father simply shook his head, mumbling about how ungrateful his daughter was.
Your mother simply gave you a disappointed look, but you ignored them both as something caught your attention.
At first, you thought that you imagined it. A simple trick of the light perhaps, or maybe you just had too much wine, but you could have sworn that you saw a flash of black, accompanied by broad shoulders and wide, gleaming eyes.
Your gaze became locked onto the stranger that bared these traits, so familiar to you but so far away. With your heart hammering in your chest, you watched as he made his way onto the dance floor. You couldn’t see him yet, not properly anyways. He was still hidden behind the horde of people all crowded together. Hiding behind the multitude of dancers and weaving in and out of the crowd.
It took all you had to keep your gaze on him and not look away. You couldn’t lose him. Not until he got closer. Not until you were sure.
For now, you were stuck following his movements with care, watching as he came closer, and closer, until finally…
Your heart stopped.
You weren’t sure if it was the wine or if you truly were hallucinating as your eyes locked with his, Benji coming to stand right in front of the high table. Beside him were two other men, all bare of any sigils and hidden under masks. But they were there. They were…
No, no.
It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t dare.
…Would he?
You started to doubt yourself. Telling yourself that there was no way that it could be him. It was too much of a risk. It was too dangerous for him to even consider such a thing…
But then he began to smile. That damned smile that you would recognize anywhere, under a mask or not. That and his eyes. You knew those eyes. That wide-eyed, crazed stare that often sent your heartbeat racing through your chest.
You knew them like the back of your hand. And sure enough, as you stared into the crowd, looking directly into those eyes, he winked.
Your chair scraped immediately.
Without much warning you stood, shooting a quick mumble towards your father before racing down the steps and towards him with determination.
Your father, thankfully, was none the wiser as you rushed forward, nodding in approval as you reached Benji and looped your arm with his.
He thought you had simply come to your senses and was dancing with some lord.
He had no idea who you were moving towards the dance floor with and if he did, you were sure that the smile would be wiped right off his face.
Lord Bracken would start a war if he knew a Blackwood had snuck under his roof, but alas that was the last thing that you were worried about.
You were more concerned about your lover getting caught, the fool having the nerve to laugh as you dragged him through the crowd. The two men he had brought along with him tried to follow, but they quickly ended up getting lost.
It was almost impossible to navigate through all of the twirling bodies, but you made it your mission to weave through them, Benji’s laughter getting lost under all of the noise. You were grateful that the masks at least concealed your true identities, allowing you to pull him along until no one else was around.
You managed to make it all the way to your room without getting stopped. As you did, you opened the door and all but threw Benji inside, making sure the door was locked before turning to your lover with a glare.
A wild gleam appeared in his eyes as he stared at you. It was obvious that he was more pleased than afraid as he grinned, crackling as he embraced you in his arms.
“Benji, Benji! Put me down!”
His laughter mixed in with your shouts of protests as Benji suddenly picked you up, spinning around in his arms.
The world suddenly went blurry for a moment as your lover twirled you, your eyes going in and out of focus. You felt dizzy whenever he finally let go of you, swaying a little bit until Benji steadied you.
When he did, you swore with everything inside of you were going to kill him.
“You idiot! What the hell were you thinking?”
Benji smiled sheepishly as you turned your fiery gaze on him, a mix of concern and anger lacing your voice. Worriedly, you glanced to the door, afraid that someone would burst through and discover him even though you had locked it.
With little time to protest, you were swept into his arms again and pulled against him.
“I was thinking that couldn’t help myself, my love. It is your nameday, and I had to see you,” He said softly, pressing his forehead to yours.
Instantly, some of your anger began to dissolve. You blamed not seeing him for weeks as the reason you began to fold so quickly, but some of your worry and panic still bled over.
“You had to? Benji you could have been caught! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be here right now? If my father or the guards had discovered you—”
Benji cut you off with a loud laugh.
“Your guards are the sorriest cunts I have ever seen in my life,” He snorted. “I could have snuck an entire army into Stone Hedge and no one would have batted an eye.”
“Hey!”
You playfully swatted his shoulder, giggling softly because you knew he was right. If your guards had done their jobs then Benji wouldn’t be here right now. Alone in a room with their Lord’s daughter, staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes.
A million different things ran through your mind. Everything from terror at getting caught to just being plain excited that he was here flooded your veins. You kept looking over your shoulder, expecting your door to burst open any second while Benji continued to hold you.
It took a few seconds, but when you were sure that no one was coming to seize your lover and take him away, a smile broke out on your face and you quickly embraced him back.
You threw your arms around Benji and held him tight, burying your head into the crook of his neck as you laughed lightly.
“Leave it to you, Benjicot Blackwood, to risk death and torture just to wish me a happy nameday,” You whispered, feeling his chest rumble underneath you.
Benji shrugged. “And to give you this,” He said cheekily, pulling away. When he did, you saw him reach into his pocket for a second before slowly pulling something out.
You bit your lip as Benji handed you a box, a velvet box with the Blackwood sigil embroidered on top.
With a curious look, you opened it up and then gasped at what you saw inside.
“This is…this is for me?” You asked incredulously.
Benji nodded, grinning.
“Of course it is, love. You’re the only Bracken I can give that to without loosing my head,” He teased slightly before continuing.
“D’you like it though? I had to go four towns over, all the way to The Crag so people wouldn’t ask questions. Figured it would have been strange if a Blackwood was caught asking someone to make a neckless with a Bracken sigil.”
The shyness that he sometimes was known for was evident on his face as he waited for your response, Benji nervously playing with his hands.
Luckily though, he didn’t have to wait long. He sighed in relief as he saw you grin, pulling him into another bone crushing hug and kissing his cheek.
“Benji…of course I love it,” You whispered in his ear, making him shiver. You could feel him relax underneath you, hugging you back as your eyes threatened to fill with tears.
“You mean it?” He asked, a bit more vulnerability shining through.
Your heart filled with more love that you thought was capable.
“Of course I mean it. How could I not?” You asked him softly. “It’s beautiful, and I can’t imagine it was easy for you to even have this made.”
You made a jest in order to keep yourself from crying.
Benji laughed lightly. “Aye. It nearly killed me to spend coin on that ugly red stag, but I think the back of it makes up for it. Look.”
He gestured for you to flip the necklace over and when you did, you discovered that it was double-sided. On the front, the sigil of house Bracken was carved, unassuming to anyone who saw it. But on the back…
You ran your fingers over the weirwood tree surrounded by ravens and lightly gasped. It was the sigil of House Blackwood, the symbol that belonged to the man you loved.
In tiny letters, barely visible unless you squinted, the initials B.B were engraved in one of the ravens.
Benjicot Blackwood.
“Oh. It’s beautiful Benji. Thank you,” You said again, your voice thick with emotion as you saw it. This time, you weren’t able to keep the tears from your eyes, one of them falling down your cheek as you sniffled.
Gently, Benji reached to your face and wiped it away. He smiled lightly and gestured for you to turn around. Taking the necklace from your hands, he then unclasped it and gently placed it around your neck.
When he did, he flipped it so that the symbol of House Blackwood showed instead.
“There. Just as it belongs,” He said.
Sniffling lightly, you allowed him to run his fingers over it, Benji placing soft kisses on your neck before turning you around.
When you did, you immediately planted your lips upon his, unable to resist it any longer.
You could tell that Benji was taken by surprise by the sudden action, but he quickly wasted no time in kissing you back. He matched the amount of passion in your kiss, greedily drinking in the taste of you after being starved for so long.
Not long after, what started as a soft, slow kiss turned into something more. The desperation that you both felt after not seeing each other for a while pooled over, and soon enough you found yourself tugging on his hair, wanting something more.
Benji clearly felt the same as he began to lead you towards the bed.
Gently, he laid you down on the soft covers and your heart pounded as he leaned over you.
Once more, his lips met yours in a swift kiss but this time it was accompanied by roaming hands.
You felt him touching you everywhere that he could, Benji feeling all of the parts that he missed.
His hands lingered on your waist and then your chest, fingers dancing over the material that covered your breasts. It was clear that just feeling you over your clothing wasn’t enough. He wanted more, and so you weren’t surprised when he broke the kiss, eyes hungry as he tugged on the yellow garb.
“Take this off,” He demanded softly, his dark eyes wild with lust.
Quickly, you sat up and with his assistance was able to get it off. Benji struggled a little bit when it came to your corset, resulting in your lover getting impatient.
Regrettably, this meant that you would have to explain to your Septa why the strings looked like they had been cut with a knife. A little annoyance pooled inside of you at the inconvenience, but you tried not to think about that as you stared at him, anxious to know what he wanted next.
“Turn around,” Benji then rasped, taking no time to drink in your naked body. “I want you on your knees, ass in the air.”
Despite his filthy words, his tone was oddly soft. Desire pooled in your core as you obediently listened, eager for whatever it was he had planned for you. You laid your head on your soft pillow, eyes fluttering shut as you felt the bed dip behind you.
You sighed as Benji kneeled in between your legs. In an instant, your felt his calloused hands roaming over your body, trailing all the way from the small of your back to the center of your core. Gently, his padded fingers traced your slick folds, eliciting a moan from you when they brushed over your clit.
“Fuck, how I’ve missed this.”
You said nothing as his fingers continued to tease your clit, too busy panting at the sensation.
It had been too long, you noted, since you had felt your lovers’ touch.
The more that tensions between your houses grew, the less time that you had to spend with Benji. It was too risky to be seen anywhere near Blackwood territory and your father had doubled the guards, making it nearly impossible to sneak out. Your meetings had been so few as of late, leaving you craving his touch like no other.
Eagerly, you wanted to take advantage of this opportunity, moaning when Benji sank a digit into your tight cunt. You cursed softly as he began to pump in and out, loving the way he curled them inside of you to reach your pleasure spots.
It seemed that your time apart did nothing to impact Benji’s memory. He still remembered exactly how to make you come undone, adding more and more digits until your cunt was stuffed.
The more fingers that he added, the louder you moaned. Pleasure that you had not experienced in weeks quickly began to cloud your senses, making you forget that you were supposed to be quiet in case anyone overheard you.
You could only imagine the disaster that would ensue if Benjicot Blackwood was discovered knuckle-deep inside of Lord Bracken’s daughter. Making her come undone on his fingers, slowly but surely, and whispering the filthiest of words in her ear.
You imagined that the aftermath wouldn’t be pretty, but alas all of those thoughts and worries faded away the minute you felt Benji kneel down, attaching his mouth to your cunt.
Any previous thoughts that you had were gone—replaced by muffled moans and incoherent blabber.
You whimpered as you felt Benji’s tongue lapping at your folds, eating your cunt like he was a man starved.
You felt him sucking on your clit, taking the bud into his mouth just as his index and middle finger curled against the right spot.
The combined pleasure had you gasping out, pillow forgotten as strangled cries left your lips.
Benji could feel your cunt tightening around his fingers and he smirked, coaxing you through your orgasm as you moaned and withered under him.
It took all he had to hold you down, using his free hand to keep your cunt firmly pressed against him. He refused to let up his assault until he could taste you on his tongue, the sweetness of your juices making him groan as well.
When he finally pulled away and released you from his hold, you managed to weakly look behind you and see him grinning. Benji licked his fingers, his face shiny with your arousal as he met your eyes.
“Hmm. So fuckin’ sweet. You want to taste, raven?”
Meekly you nodded, your face and your core burning at the nickname. Benji smiled as he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips while he grinded into you.
You could feel his cock hard as stone poking against your thighs. The thought of him being inside of you after so long briefly made you loose the ability to breathe as excitement flooded your veins.
The action allowed for Benji to slip his tongue in your mouth, kissing you sloppily for a moment before reluctantly pulling away.
His wild eyes were dark with lust as he fiddled with his own clothing, loosening his trousers so that his cock could spring free.
You felt your mouth water as you watched him stroke himself for a moment, spurts of preseed dripping down the base.
Benji let a hand roam over your back and gently used it to push you down, spreading your legs so that he could settle in between them.
With your back arched and your face pressed firmly against the pillow once again, he teased you by dragging his cock along your folds and then, he pushed in.
Together, you both let out a whine as Benji’s cock sank inside of you, your lover letting out a swear as you gripped him tight.
It had been a while since the two of you had sex, and it was evident in the way your legs trembled, your cunt straining to take him as he sank deeper.
You let out another whine, reaching behind you for something to grip. Luckily Benji seemed to get the message clear enough, and quickly he intertwined your fingers together.
Once he was buried inside of you to the hilt, he stilled for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Light kisses were peppered against your back as he leaned over you, holding you as close as possible before his hips began to move.
In a slow rhythm, he dragged his cock in and out as if to savor the moment.
As his hips snapped against yours and sent jolts of ecstasy through your body, your moans slowly started to combine.
You had forgotten how much you missed this. You had forgotten how much you missed him. Loneliness was awful but often times it was easy to get accustomed to it. After all, it’s what you signed up for when you took a Blackwood for your lover.
You expected to go days, weeks, or even months without seeing Benji. So when he was here, you did all you could to savor him before he had to leave again.
Every breath, every groan, and every whisper of encouragement was committed to memory. Every touch, every kiss cherished.
You relished in the way Benji’s cock felt against your walls, squeezing him as if it would somehow help you remember how it felt.
A small curse left his lips as you did, Benji leaning down to suck a love bite on your skin.
As his teeth grazed your neck, you groaned as he somehow managed to find both of your sweet spots.
“That’s it. That’s it. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Benji praised you as you began to fuck yourself on his cock, throwing your hips back and meeting his trusts. Your moans combined together as the pace sped up, the sound of heavy breathing quickly filling the room.
After a moment, you felt his weight shift off of your body as Benji opted to get back on his knees. He used his hands to keep your hips steady, pushing down on the small of your back to keep it arched.
With this new angle, he was able to drive into you quicker and repeatedly hit your sweet spot. Curses left his lips as you began to tremble around him, his own orgasm approaching at the same time as yours.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You gripped the sheets tightly as obscenities left his mouth, feeling Benji quickly pull out of you just as your peak washed over you.
Hot spurts of his seed coated your back, Benji spilling himself onto your skin before finishing you off with his fingers.
The absence of his cock was most disappointing, but by the time you came down from your high you barely noticed.
You were too busy in a state of bliss, turning around to capture Benji in a kiss before shakily pulling away.
“Are you alright, my love?” He asked immediately, panting heavily as he collapsed next to you.
Sometimes, it amazed you how quickly he could change. One moment Benji was shy and sweet, giving you the most beautiful necklace for your nameday. And then the next he was making you cum, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear and fucking you so good that you saw stars.
Now, he had switched again, his soft side back on display as he held you in his arms.
He was careful enough not to cum inside of you and—much to your displeasure—had used your fancy yellow dress to wipe up his seed.
You suspected that he was too pleased by the action, but you opted not to say anything about it. Instead, you merely disregarded the dress and chose to cuddle in his arms, trying to soak the last remaining moments you had.
“Of course I’m alright. It is my nameday and I’ve just received the best gift of the night,” You replied after some pause.
You knew him well enough that you could practically hear the smirk appear on his face.
“What? The sex?” Benji asked cheekily, to which you playfully elbowed him.
“No you fool!” You giggled as you knew that was exactly what he was going to say. “The necklace! The necklace you risked life and limb to deliver to me personally!”
You rolled your eyes as Benji began to laugh behind you, the cheerful sound echoing through your chambers.
“Right, right. That is what I risked life and limb for,” He said innocently.
You didn’t have the energy to do anything expect roll your eyes again. You swore he was so stupid sometimes. From sneaking into enemy territory to making silly little jests, your Benji sure was a character to be reckoned with.
But, that was exactly what you loved about him.
Sighing softly, you shook your head and listened to the sound of his breathing. It remained steady behind you as Benji slowly relaxed, settling in your bed like he was simply at home.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was falling sleep. His body was certainly still enough to think so, but you knew as well as he did that he couldn’t stay here.
The party downstairs was slowly dying down. If you listened close enough, you could hear the final songs planned for the night dwindling down, and you knew pretty soon someone was going to come for you.
Benji couldn’t be here when they did.
Your father was probably already angry enough at your lack of presence. If he ever discovered the reason why you had so suddenly disappeared then he would have your head—Benji’s too.
And as much you loved lying in his arms, feeling the warmth and the love radiating from his body, you loved seeing Benji alive much more.
So, sure enough, as the final notes on the final songs began to play, he stood up.
“Well, I suppose that’s my cue to take leave, then.”
Benji smiled sadly as he began to gather his clothes, redressing while you watched him with despair. The sheets that were wrapped loosely around you began to fall as you stood as well, walking over to him just as he readjusted his dagger.
“Do you promise to come visit me soon?” You asked him anxiously.
Slowly, Benji began to nod. He knew as well as you did that soon was debatable. Tensions were at all time high as whispers of war breaking out in the Kingdom spread. They added to the already strained relations between your houses.
Still though, Benji could not bare to see your disappointment. He didn’t want to leave on a bad note, either, so he settled for an unserious answer to ease the situation.
“If your father doesn’t replace his guards any time soon then I’ll be able to visit you any time you’d like,” He chuckled.
He was met by a small giggle that had his heart smiling with joy. Softly, you gripped his hand, savoring his touch as you knew that it would be the last time for a while.
“Stay safe out there, Blackwood,” You told him softly. “Don’t get into any trouble and for Seven’s sake, leave the assize stones alone. Make sure that you come back to me, you hear?”
Your tone was playful, but he knew that you were being as serious as a dead man.
Briefly, his lips twitched a little as he fought the urge to tell you that it was your family that messes with the stones. But ultimately, he agreed.
“I will. I promise,” Benji said sincerely.
A soft kiss was then planted on your lips, you and Benji holding onto each other for one last time. When you pulled away, a sigh of disappointment left your lips as you watched him walk away.
Closing your eyes, you decided to count his footsteps until he reached the door.
When you got to ten, you heard the door open. And one last time, Benji called out to you.
“Oh. And Bracken?”
“Hmm?”
You opened your eyes to see that familiar goofy smile, his eyes shining as he looked at you.
“I almost forgot to tell you, but happy nameday, my love. I do hope that this was a good one,” Benji laughed.
And with that, he closed the door, leaving you smiling and shaking your head behind him.
That fool. What one earth am I going to do with you, Benjicot Blackwood?
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd x reader#hotd smut#benjicot blackwood x reader#benjicot blackwood smut#benjicot blackwood#jacaerys velaryon x reader#aemond targaryen x reader
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milf!reader fucking coach!patrick because she wants her son to get accepted into his tennis program and they’re old friend who used to fuck in college but she despises him but she’ll do anything for her son👀
warnings; smut, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), cum eating, a smidge of foot stuff if you squint, hate sex, exes (ish) to lovers (ish)
a/n; your honor i need him actually
imagining him wolf-whistling at you when you seek him out on the courts, racket strapped over your shoulder, hand limply holding a basket of tennis balls as you watch him practice his serving, trying and failing not to ogle his entire body through his clothes.
a sweat soaked tank top, slick and transparent. the smell of musk and man and tennis. thick corded thighs dusted with dark hair as he moves fluidly, as though the racket is an extension of himself. a thick bulge in his shorts that, no matter how much you hate him, you want to have your mouth on.
he’s all fire and passion and heat, and you know from experience that trait rings true in all areas of his life.
“so, you’re a milf now,” he drawls, beckoning you closer with a tip of his chin. your mouth is dry, chest so hollow it feels like you’re about to crumble from the inside out.
you roll your eyes, hoping to look more confident than you feel, taking place on the other side of the net.
“and you’re still a prick. your point?”
“why are you here?” he presses, tossing the ball up and catching it with a skilled ease that has your stomach flipping.
“how do i guarantee my son a place in your tennis program?” the words feel heavy on your tongue, struggling not to curl your lips into a sneer at the sight of his smug expression.
“you think i’m a prick but you want me to teach your son?”
“i think you’re a prick but i know you’re good at tennis. and you’re a good teacher. and i want him to be good.” his brow quirks. at least you’re honest.
he discards the tennis ball behind him and crosses the distance between you, long legs coming up to step over the net.
“i can think of a few things.”
that’s how you find yourself at his place, legs slung over his shoulders. it’s wet and dirty, each rock of his hips squelching as he feeds you his cock into your needy cunt inch by inch.
“yeah, know this pussy missed me, baby,” he rasps, pinching at your twitching clit. his throat works around a thick swallow, lips parted in a groan when you clench your cunt round him, shifting your hips upward to allow him to sink further into the wet clutch of you.
“stop talking to my pussy, you freak,” you hiss, quickly silenced as he flattens his thumb over your swollen bud, rolling it in tight circles until you’re creaming round him, wailing with the sheer force of your orgasm
he lifts your ankle, turning his flushed face to mouth at the smooth skin there, huffing hot air against the sole of your foot that has you squirming.
there are some perks to fucking patrick zweig.
he knows every inch of your body, knows what makes you tick and which buttons to press to keep you babbling nonsensical filth beneath him. knows your pussy, knows how to fuck you until you cry.
you’re clinging to his shoulders, almost drawing blood as you dig your knuckles further into that skin, because you know him just as well. know that this gets him going, keeps him rutting into you with that fervour that - despite yourself, despite hating him - you’ve missed so desperately.
because despite hating patrick zweig, no one fucks you like he does.
when he cums it’s in excess, spurt after spurt of it until you’re plugged full and it’s flooding you, dripping out of your spasming hole and gathering over your furled asshole. he gathers some of it with two fingers, feeds it into your eager mouth.
“i’m sure we can work something out about those tennis lessons, sweets.” and he grins, all teeth. the look should have you balking, send you running, but you find yourself drawn to it, clinging to the familiarity of him.
you’re caught in his honey trap once again, and he has no plans of letting you get away this time.
because you both know, no matter how much you claim to hate him, he’s the best sex you’ve ever had.
and he’s sure he can make you love him. just with a little time.
#patrick x reader#patrick zweig#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig fic#patrick zweig fanfiction#patrick zweig drabble#patrick x fem!reader#love letters#ily#challengers smut#challengers x reader#challengers x you#challengers fanfic#challengers fic#challengers film#writer#writing#writers on tumblr#writing for fun#challengers patrick#patrick challengers#patrick zweig challengers#fanfic#fanfiction#smut writing#fanfic writer#my writing!#pat 🎾
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Biggest Fan - CL16
Requested by @nina-or-anna-or-nora "Heyy!! 💕 I saw you were asking some requests so I have one for an Smau!! (If you want to do it ofc) I was thinking about the reader being kinda like Sabrina or Olivia (a performer) and then Charles being like her biggest fan🤭just a super cute fluffy thing and he goes to every show he can or posts her and stuff🥹"
AN - Had so much fun writing this SMAU for you! Don't be afraid to send in requests that aren't apart of the Pizza Menu! I love Sabrina but I'm not a die hard fan so I have no idea how many outfit changes she has or the order she performs so if it's a little messed up I apologize! Also LMK if you wanna see me do this with more drivers and make it a little series of the drivers being head over heels for their girl friend!
Summary: Just Charles being in love with Y/N... and basically everyone in the F1 community!
Charles insta stories over the fall break
Twitter
Charles instagram
Liked by landonorris, youruser, carlossainz, and 2,090,513 others
charlesleclerc We're ready for you Austin ft. Y/N and all the fan gifted hats that will make an appearance this weekend tagged carlossainz and youruser
user5 I love how he makes a post for work and still finds a way to get Y/N in there
user6 your honor... it's them. It's always them!
youruser I'm ready to be back in my home soil!
user7 I constantly forget our girl is from the US charlesleclerc you mean MY girl user8 Charles will never learn to share charlesleclerc not when it comes to MY Y/N youruser alright calm it down you charlesleclerc yes maam
user9 I hate feeling single but I do love you guys!
carlossainz Will I ever get a post with just us?
user10 Carlos... they're a package deal user11 If I don't expect anything less, you shouldn't either youruser damn... catching strays carlossainz Y/N I thought we were friends!
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Your insta story
user12 how does it feel to be living my dream
carlossainz he's been smiling at his phone for 10 minutes because you posted him
youruser I love knowing he loves me as much as I love him
user13 his eyes
charlesleclerc that's one lucky man
youruser he really is!
user14 I love the way you guys love each other
landonorris you guys disgust me with how cute you are together
youruser you wish this was you huh? landonorris I miss when you were to shy to interact with us... kinda a meanie youruser you'll learn to survive
Twitter
your Instagram
Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, oliviarodrigo, and 3,092,172 others
youruser Thanks for the warm welcome home... see you in a few weeks for Vegas!
Look for a surprise tomorrow around noon YeeHaw time!
charlesleclerc Ooooo I wanna know the surprise
user18 I can't believe I have notifications on and Charles is still here before me
charlesleclerc you snooze you lose! gotta be quicker than that! youruser love you need to be a bit nicer! user18 no this is on me... I should know no matter how much I love you Charles just loves you that much more! user19 I'm sobbing at this! Charles is so unhinged when it comes to Y/N
landonorris Can I also know the surprise
charlesleclerc NO!
user20 YeeHaw time is SENDING me! For anyone confused she's talking about CST
user21 THANK YOU! It makes so much sense now that you've explained but as a non F1 Y/N fan I didn't realize she was in Texas haha
user22 I love their height difference. I forget just how SMALL Y/N is.
Your Insta Story
charlesleclerc I can't wait to watch you!!
user23 HOLY SHIT! I can't fucking wait!
user24 omg! I'm so excited for this!!
landonorris: I hope you have a ticket saved with my name on it!
youruser: I do including the rest of the grid... spread the word pleaseeee
user25: Oh to be in the US rn to experience this concert! I just know it's gonna be amazing
Twitter
Charles Insta story during the show
Max's Insta story during the show
Youruser: Max! hahaha you had me cracking up in the first slide... then tearing up through laughter in the second. Thank you so much for finding time in your title fight to support!
maxverstappen1: I wouldn't have missed it! Had to see what all the hype was about. Please invite me again
Grid Members Stories (Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Liam, Franco)
#formula 1#f1#f1 x you#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one imagines#f1 smut#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#cl16 fic#CL16 SMAU#Charles leclerc smau#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula one smau#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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MISTLETOE MAKE UP — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which luke plays christmas cupid after watching jack mope around missing his ex-girlfriend. (6.2k words)
notes: honestly hard to believe that this is my final hockey fic, i just wanna say thank you to everyone who has interacted with any of my fics because i really appreciate all the love and kindness that’s spread on here, and a big thank you to @thedevilrisen for allowing me the honor of participating in this wonderful Ho Ho Hockey event as my farewell to NHL fic writing 🤍 i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it 🤍
“i’ll pay you.”
desperation drips from the lowly whispered words as Luke unlaces his skates from beside his captain.
“i don’t want your money.” Nico rolls his eyes at the young player, matching his hushed tone. both men give a quick once over at their teammate across the locker room before their heads dip low, bowing together to continue their private conversation, “why are you so set on this?”
“i can’t answer that.” Luke huffs out quickly, Nico’s curiosity rising farther, “can you just make it happen?”
Nico shrugs, “i guess so. but i want the answer after the party.”
Luke pulls away, kicking off his skates, “that’s fine. if all goes to plan, you’ll understand my plan quicker than that.”
with that, Luke turns away, carrying on in his undressing after the conclusion of practice.
***
“secret santa time! everyone take one name from the hat as i make my way around!” Nico’s voice booms across the locker room, attracting everyone’s attention to the black New Jersey Devils hat grasped in his hand, nearly overflowing with pieces of folded paper inside.
eyes meeting with Luke’s, Nico gives a nearly inconceivable nod, affirming their previous conversation. he makes his way around the locker room, letting each player pick a name out of the hat, purposefully skipping over his close friend until he’s the last to pick.
with a subtle switch of the hat to his other hand, the Devils captain drops one final slip of folded paper into the empty hat before making his way over.
Jack disinterestedly plucks the final piece of paper from the hat, his dulled eyes widening as he reads the name.
“alright, everyone has a name! that’s who you’re getting a gift for!”
“hey, Neeks?” Jack’s voice pipes up.
“NO SWITCHING!” Nico calls out, cutting his fellow forward off before he can get the chance to ask. “see you all for practice tomorrow!”
avoiding Jack’s lingering presence, Nico grabs his things before hauling out of the locker room; leaving his friend behind him, blinking in wonder as he questions what the hell he’s gonna do now.
Nico’s already typing out a quick text as he climbs into his car, hitting send before he even leaves the arena.
to: Y/N
Hey, just did the secret santa drawing. You have Jack. No switches. See you at the party!
***
“i want it to be cute.” her statement causes a chuckle to bubble up Luke’s throat.
“the whole point of an ugly christmas sweater is for it to be ugly, y/n.” his reply earns him a disapproving groan from the other side of the phone.
“you know what i mean,” she lilts, “of course it’ll be an ugly christmas sweater, but there’s a difference between cute ugly and ugly ugly, ya know?”
“uhhh, no? is this a girly thing?” Luke questions his friend as he beeline’s through the crowded department store, knowing exactly what to grab. “like when you used to tell Jack that you would be ready in five minutes but really you meant fifteen minutes but you didn’t wanna say fifteen minutes cause you knew he’d whine?”
“what? you know what, nevermind. i don’t have time for this. thank you for grabbing me a sweater but i have to get back to work, i’ll see you at the party.” her words come out rushed and whispered, cluing Luke in that her break is over and she’s back in the office.
“yeah, i’ll bring the sweater to the party for you. see you.”
his eyes lock on the bright red sweater in front of him, a perfect match to one he knows is laying on the back of a chair in he and Jack’s apartment. pulling her size off the rack, he makes his way to the cashier and pays before heading back out to his car; hiding the sweater in the glovebox so his brother doesn’t see it.
***
the sweater is slightly itchy and she knows he definitely grabbed the wrong size.
“does it fit okay?”
no.
“yeah,” she nods, the perfectly styled curls in her hair bouncing with every bob of her head, “thank you, Lukey. i really appreciate it.“
“it’s no problem.” he swallows, his eyes drifting toward the closed entry of Nico’s apartment, the loud laughter of his team and their significant others carrying through the thick wooden door. “you ready?”
“do you want me to lie? or should i be honest?” her self deprecating chuckle tells Luke all he needs to know.
“isn’t it time you guys faced each other? maybe this is what you need.”
“what i need is a drink,” a deep puff of breath releases from her mouth in an exasperated sigh.
“what am i even doing here? i said yes to coming over a month ago, when i actually belonged here, Luke. nobody wants me here except apparently you and Nico.” Luke’s heart aches at the unshed tears that gather in her eyes, obviously reminiscing on what went down just a month prior.
“no, we all want you here. what you mean is that you don’t think Jack wants you here.” he corrects, “which is also wrong. he may not admit it, but i know he’s looking forward to seeing you.”
“if he wanted to see me, he would call me. or text me. or show up at my damn door.” she mutters dejectedly, “we broke up. he doesn’t wanna see me.”
“y/n-” Luke starts, the truth sitting on the tip of his tongue.
that Jack has been miserable without her.
that he’s been driving Luke crazy asking how she’s doing.
that Jack hasn’t called or texted or shown up at her door because he thinks she doesn’t want to see him.
that he hasn’t been himself since they broke up and that it’s causing Luke to wanna put his head through a wall.
but before Luke can voice any of that, the door beside him swings open, the hinges creaking as his older brother steps into the hall.
“oh,” Jack stops; freezing when he locks eyes with the girl standing just a few feet away, “hey.”
her back steels and for anyone else, it would seem as though y/n is completely unbothered; indifferent to the run-in. but Luke could spot the sadness in her eyes from a mile away.
“hi.” she stammers, the hands in which she grips a gift bag of red and green tissue paper being shoved behind her back.
the hallway is quiet for a moment, the two ex-lovers silently inspecting each other with an identical expression of love and loss; wanting and wishing; pain and desperation.
and when Luke sees they’ve taken notice of their matching sweaters, looking down at themselves before their eyes dart back to each other? he knows, it’s time to get his plan started.
“let’s get this party started!”
taking the lead, Luke enters through the doorway, the two exes following behind him at respectable distances until they arrive into the crowded apartment.
y/n tries to keep close to Luke, but quickly loses track of him as he disappears amongst his teammates.
“Y/N!” a mellow accent calls out, a hefty arm slinging over her shoulder as she sets the aforementioned gift bag on a table of presents.
“hi, Timo.” she smiles, gifting a quick squeeze to the taller man beside her.
but as she hugs one man, her eyes drift to another, accidentally colliding with the icy blue of Jack’s as he stares at his teammate with a look that sends a rack of shivers down her spine.
“i didn’t think you were coming,” the swiss grins, finally taking a step back and letting his arm fall back down to his side. his eyebrows lift as he looks between the former couple, “are you guys back together?”
at the question, Jack coughs, slowly shaking his head as y/n answers, “no- uh, no.”
before Timo can ask any more questions, Luke reappears by her side, filling the gap of space between she and Jack.
“are you coming to get a drink or what?” a knowing smile rests upon his lips, y/n’s eyes narrowing at his chipper attitude.
but the need to take the edge of anxiety off her shoulders overrides any sense of self preservation that she previously held.
“lead the way.”
Luke cocks his head toward the doorway that she knows leads to the kitchen. as she follows behind him, Jack hot on her trail, she’s reminded of all the times she’s been in this apartment before; team parties and hang outs with the guys, accompanying Jack as he dropped things off to his captain, and the very first time he introduced her to his friends.
she nearly runs into Luke’s back as he makes an abrupt stop just inside the kitchen, causing Jack to side step and pause in the entryway beside her in order to avoid bumping into her.
“oh hey, mistletoe!” Luke chimes, a bit too happy as he waves a hand above where the former couple stands.
two heads snap up to look above them, cheeks becoming a ferocious shade of red as they glance between each other and the plant that hangs above their heads.
“ooooh!” a voice sings out in a childishly teasing tone and Jack and y/n look over to see Dougie standing beside Luke, pointing at the dangling mistletoe. his loud tone garners the attention of the many people who hang about the kitchen, several eyes widening as they spot the plant above the exes.
“kiss!” Bree calls out as she sidles up beside her fiancé, “if Dougie and i had to, and Nicole and Jesper had to, and hell, even Timo and Nico had to, then so do you! kiss!”
her words start a chant amongst the crowded area, a dozen or so people loudly chorusing the word “kiss!” over and over, their eyes glued to Jack and y/n, who stand in the doorway with blushing cheeks and sad eyes.
“you don’t have to,” y/n starts, her voice a mere whisper as she tries not to choke on her words.
“it’s okay. let’s just give the people what they want,” Jack cuts her off.
allowing muscle memory to take control, his hand rests upon the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he guides her lips to his. as his lips make a featherlight brush against hers, y/n allows her eyes to flutter shut, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and want.
Jack slots his lips against hers, his breath stilling as he reminisces on the time when he could do this freely. the time he wants back so damn badly.
the time before he started that petty argument over her always steaming up the bathroom and leaving a puddle of water outside the shower. before she accused him of starting things just to argue. before he said those six little words. those six stupid words that he’s come to regret more than anything else he’s ever said or done. those six foolish words that have caused him more misery and pain than any injury ever could.
“maybe we should just break up!”
her body melts into his, her hand resting on his chest, settling over his rapidly beating heart. the kiss is just as good as she remembers, still soft and sweet and dripping with feelings of love and comfort. his hands on her skin still fill her with excitement and a sense of security that she’s only ever felt with him.
as he pulls away, she only just stops herself from chasing his lips once more; from stealing his breath one more time and capturing his lips with hers once again.
but she doesn’t do that.
she refrains and allows him to step back, the loss of his touch leaving a chilly breeze in the place his hand had just occupied. and a whole new sense of longing pangs in her chest.
but when they both look back to the crowded kitchen, no one is paying them any attention. the gaggle of people have resumed whatever conversations they had held before the exes arrival.
“a drink,” she whispers, her fingertips tracing over her slightly swollen lips as she walks toward the countertop occupied by several bottles of liquor and soda, “i need a drink.”
but as she reaches for a bottle of berry flavored vodka, she risks one glance over her shoulder, her eyes locking on Jack’s downturned head as he stares at his shoes. his body is still rooted in the entryway, his own hands rubbing over his face as he seems to angrily mutter to himself.
and as she turns back to mixing herself a drink, Jack’s own eyes rise to look at her stiffened shoulders and rigid posture. watching her mix her signature drink of lemonade and berry vodka, all he can do is scold himself and observe as she takes a sip and then turns to greet his captain as he steps up beside her.
and all Jack can think is how badly he wants to taste the sweet and alcoholic taste on her lips as he kisses her again.
without the help of a stupid plant this time.
***
y/n has spent the last hour of her time engaged in conversations with anyone she can talk to; actively avoiding her ex and hoping he can’t see just how flustered that kiss made her feel. and just how badly she wants to do it again.
y/n watches as Luke bounces around the room, taking note that he’s only speaking to the fellow singles of the team.
what is he up to?
“so you and Jack,” her attention is pulled back to the conversation at hand, her face turning towards Nicole once again, “you guys are finally back together?”
y/n opens her mouth to deny, but Nicole just keeps talking, “i mean, it’s about time. everyone knew it would happen, we were just biting our tongues and waiting for Jack to stop being so mopey and get his head out of his ass long enough to apologize for whatever he did.”
Nicole laughs at her own words as y/n blinks in surprise.
mopey? jack was moping?
wasn’t this exactly what he wanted?
what he asked for?
“we’re not together again,” y/n sighs, shaking her head as she allows her eyes to search out her ex for the hundredth time that night, “Luke and Nico said i still had to come, so here i am.”
“oh,” Nicole’s eyes widen, a true deer-in-headlights look if y/n had ever seen one, “i’m sorry, forget i said anything.”
“it’s okay, you’re not the first to ask tonight,” y/n chuckles, a twinge of sarcasm laced within the sound, “and you probably won’t be the last. it’s odd that i’m here, right? i tried to back out and Nico and Luke wouldn’t let me, but i shouldn’t be here, right? this is his territory.”
Nicole shakes her head, her hand coming up to gently rub against y/n’s arm in a comforting motion as she cuts off her rambles, “you have every right to be here. you became friends with everyone here just as much as he did, y/n.”
“i don’t know,” y/n shrugs in a self-pity filled moment, “it feels like maybe i should just go home, you know? i don’t wanna make him any more uncomfortable than i already have.”
Nicole laughs, her head tipping back as a shrill giggle escapes her lips. as she composes herself from her outburst, she gazes at y/n’s furrowed brows and confused expression before pushing her face to look over at Jack, who stands across the room laughing at something Curtis said.
“does that look like he’s uncomfortable to you?” Nicole huffs out another laugh as she shakes her head, “that boy has been looking at you like a lovesick puppy all night. he’s seemed happier tonight than he has after any winning game in this past month.”
“i-”
“gingerbread house time!” Nico’s booming accent sweeps across the apartment, attracting the attention of the entire crowd of people, “get in pairs and go to one of the stations of gingerbread because the best gingerbread house at the end of the hour gets a mystery prize!”
when y/n looks back to Nicole, Jesper has already glued himself to his fiancée’s side, ushering her towards the dining room table.
turning towards where she last saw Luke, y/n is more than a little affronted to see him stood beside Timo at one of the gingerbread house stations; and the more she looks around the room, the more she’s realizing that everyone already seems to be paired up.
everyone except the very person she had hoped would be paired up. the very person who is walking right towards her with an awkwardly bashful smile.
“guess it’s you and me,” Jack shrugs, pushing his hands deep within his front pockets as y/n nods, a pink hue lighting up her cheeks as her shoulder bumps his when they take their place in front of the last available station.
y/n easily takes the lead, the more creative of the two, and Jack is all too happy to just follow her instructions. he watches in silent admiration as she decorates each wall of the house with a white icing bag and attempts to copy her designs on the symmetrical pieces in order for to help finish their house faster.
Jack takes pleasure in the light grazes of their fingers as they stick the walls of the gingerbread house together. noting the blush that creeps upon her cheeks and neck as she giggles when he mocks a salute after each order she makes of him.
they work in tandem, a well-oiled machine as they construct the house, sneaking peeks at other houses as they work; studying their competition.
“i think we’ve got this in the bag,” Jack tells her, his head bowing down to whisper in her ear. her entire body heats as his lips ghost the shell of her ear; a shiver tracing down her spine when the oddly intoxicating scent of mint and beer hits her nostrils, along with the overwhelmingly familiar warmth of his cologne, “poor bastards, i’ve got a secret weapon that they don’t even realize.”
“oh yeah?” a smirk curls at the side of her lips. she pulls away to look in his eyes, a familiar feeling buried deep within them that makes her heart speed up in her chest, “and what’s that?”
Jack grins, electricity buzzing between them as he dips his head lower, their faces inches apart, “you.”
heat pools deep within her stomach, that same fuzzy feeling she used to get when he would flop on top of her in bed after a long day. when he would tease her that it was his ‘recharging’ time and that he needed to hear her heartbeat to remind him that she’s alive and that he was lucky enough for her to choose him out of all the guys in Newark.
y/n loses herself in the memory, zoning out as her eyes focus on watching Jack apply icing the roof of the gingerbread house, whilst her mind is far off in the past.
“time’s up!” Nico’s exclamation pulls her back to the present, Jack’s hand dropping the icing bag on the table. they stand back to study their creation, shoulders bumping as they both nod in agreement of their job well done.
Nico slowly makes his way around the stations, carefully studying each and every gingerbread house until he finally makes it to the former couple, a clap of his hands startling the two ex-lovers.
“i think we have a winner!” Nico shouts, making a wild wave of his hands towards their gingerbread house, “congratulations, Jack and y/n!”
everyone slowly retreats back to the living room, leaving the three of them behind in the dining area.
“here’s your prize,” Nico smirks knowingly, handing y/n a slip of paper, “i suggest using it during the break.”
Jack peers over her shoulder, his close proximity making y/n a little woozy as she feels his chest press against her back while her reads the paper in her hands. the two don’t even notice Nico retreating, too busy staring at the paper.
“a couples massage?” y/n blinks, “what was he planning to do if Timo and Luke had won? were they gonna have a romantic massage together?”
“i think we both know Luke would never win a gingerbread house competition,” Jack laughs, their eyes drawing up to look over at Luke and Timo’s half built house, which is missing a roof and a wall, “i’m pretty sure he ate half their house… and Nate’s.”
the house beside Luke and Timo’s also lacks a wall, and when y/n glances into the living room, she sees Luke idling beside a few of his teammates. a half eaten wall of gingerbread clutched in his grasp, making her choke out a laugh.
“he’s still eating it,” she knocks her body back against Jack’s, pointing his younger brother out to him.
but Jack is too busy to look. too focused on where her back has leaned to rest lazily against his chest, just like she used to do when she began to tire out while they were hanging with his team. when she used to lean back against him, her head resting against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her midsection, holding her up as she her blinking got slower and heavier. yet she always refused to go, telling him she didn’t want to cut his time with his friends short.
“well, uh, you can have this,” she stammers, stepping away and putting the dreaded distance back between them as she turns and holds the paper out towards Jack.
“no, you can have it,” he shakes his head, pushing her hand back toward her chest, “i wouldn’t be able to put it to use.”
“you think i would?” she blinks, “i’m sure you can give it to your parents or something, just take it.”
“you hold on to it.” he insists, stepping back when she tries to hold the paper back out to him, “maybe you’ll end up needing it.”
“what if i don’t wanna use it with anyone?” she remarks, “you know i don’t feel comfortable doing that kind of stuff with people.”
“you did it with me,” his response makes her freeze, her body tensing at the first verbal acknowledgment of their relationship.
“that was different.” she mutters, tears now burning at the backs of her eyes, trying to push their way out.
“why?” he questions, eyebrows threading together as though to mock confusion, because she knows that he knows why. he just wants to hear her say it.
and how cruel that is.
how cruel he is for making her remind him of how special he was to her; how comfortable he made her.
“because it was you.” her words are a whisper, her voice breaking on several syllables as she sets the paper down on the table.
Jack is fast with a reply, but y/n’s feet are faster, carrying her out of the room and down the hallway before he can get a word out. she locks herself in the bathroom, tears breaking free and flowing down her cheeks.
she’s no longer capable of holding them back. no longer able to pretend any longer that she doesn’t regret walking away; letting him win that argument instead of fighting for them. for him.
“y/n?” a knock sounds at the bathroom door, Luke’s voice carrying through the wood, “you in there?”
clearing her throat, y/n shakes her head in attempt to pull herself together.
“yeah!” she calls back, plucking a tissue from the box on the counter and dabbing at her tear stained cheeks.
“we’re about to do secret santa.” Luke informs her, and y/n nods, though she knows he can’t see her.
“i’ll be right out!” she amends, wiping her nose and throwing the crumpled tissue into the wastebasket.
she’s runs a hand over her hair, making sure she looks presentable before she opens the door to a worrisome Luke.
“are you okay?”
“never better!” she paints on a grin, bumping her hip against his in a cheerful manner as she makes her way past him, making her way back to the living room.
everyone is standing around when she arrives, watching as Dawson opens a gift bag and pulls out a hat, a hoodie, and an extremely broken candy cane.
“thank you, secret santa.” he chuckles, making Curtis nod.
“you’re welcome.” Curtis looks especially pleased with himself, causing the crowded living room to laugh, “the candy cane was Owen’s contribution.”
“that makes more sense.” Dawson laughs, fist bumping Curtis as he sits down on the armrest of the sofa.
“let’s see who’s next,” Nico trails off, plucking a badly wrapped present from the top of the gift table. he reads the name tag on the gift, smirking as he does so, “y/n.”
“oh, okay,” she gives a soft smile, accepting the gift from Nico’s outstretched hands.
peeling off the paper from the heavy gift, y/n’s eyes widen at the black Coach purse she’s been eyeing for months. her heart stops, only two people in this very room knowing how badly she’s been wanting this exact extra roomy purse. but as she holds it in her hands, she feels something hard and heavy on the inside. peering inside the purse, her hands tremble at the sight that greets her. inside the spacious purse, sits a special edition copy of a book she knows she’s pointed out at Barnes & Noble, remarking about how it’s her favorite book. and underneath the gorgeous foiled covered book with sprayed edges, rests two gift cards; one to that very book store, and another to Amazon.
there’s only one person who would know both how badly she’s wanted this purse, and how badly she wanted this special edition copy.
her eyes rise slowly, blinking back even more tears as she gazes across the room at her ex-boyfriend, a d the way her worries at his bottom lip in anxious anticipation of her reaction, confirms her suspicions of who her secret santa was.
“thank you, Jack.” she whispers softly, unsure if he could even hear her, but when he nods in acknowledgment, she knows he did, “i love them.”
“yeah, of course,” he coughs, nodding his head again, attempting extremely hard to keep his composure, “it was no problem.”
“alright!” Nico grins widely, seeming particularly happy as he locks eyes with Luke who idles beside him, “next is…”
Nico picks another gift from the table and reads the name tag before handing it off to someone else. it goes like that for at least fifteen minutes, practically every gift some variation of the same things; a hoodie, a hat, a wallet, a full upper body heating pad, etc.
but while everyone else is watching as gifts are opened and secret santa’s become less secret, y/n’s eyes keep wandering to the man who stands across the room. the one who finds her looking at him more than once.
but can he blame her?
her heart swells in her chest as she peeks back down at her gifts. he knew her so well. he knew exactly what she wanted and he made it happen. and that thought alone had her planning to pull him to the side later. she needed to talk to him, one on one. a real talk this time, not surrounded by people but just them and their words.
“Jack,” Nico smirks, handing the familiar gift bag over to the man of her attention.
y/n watches with bated breath as Jack pulls out the tissue paper at the top of the bag, his hand reaching in to pull out the first gift; a Carhartt half-zip that she had seen him eyeing a couple months ago. she can’t guarantee that he hasn’t gotten any of the gifts for himself in the time they’ve been apart, but she crosses her fingers in hopes that he hasn’t.
she studies Jack’s crooked smile as he eyes the half-zip, and she knows he’s probably already mentally planning an outfit to go with it. which makes her huff a laugh to herself underneath her breath.
Jack then reaches in and pulls out a box, which y/n knows belongs to the kindle she bought two months ago when he made a comment about needing to get himself one as he cuddled up with his head on her stomach whilst she read on hers. Jack’s eyes dart up to hers after he spots the last thing in the bag, opening the shoe box to reveal a brand new pair of golf shoes, the same pair he had showed her a few months prior and said he wanted to get for the next summer.
a wary smile stretches tightly across her lips, hoping and praying to whatever higher power there may be that he doesn’t already have any of the gifts.
“thank you, y/n.” he smiles a wide toothy grin as he puts the gifts back in the bag.
“you’re welcome.”
the routine starts again, the final few people opening their gifts as Jack and y/n glance at each other with longing deep within their eyes.
once the final person has opened their gift, the party resumes to its regularly scheduled holiday music and chatter, and Luke and Nico watch from a corner of the room as Jack and y/n continue to steal glances at each other.
with hesitant steps, they meet in the middle of the living room, y/n’s hands trembling as she builds up her courage.
“i-” “do you-”
they both give an awkward chuckle as they speak over each other.
“you first,” Jack cocks his head as she takes a deep breath, collecting herself.
“do you wanna go somewhere we can talk?” she asks, before clarifying, “in private.”
Jack nods, “yeah, c’mon.”
he leads her down the hallway of doors, stepping into the open guest room as she follows behind him. he takes a seat on the end of the bed, setting his gift bag on the floor beside him.
“thank you for my gifts.” her voice shakes as she stops in front of him, setting her new purse gingerly on the bed before sitting beside him, “you’re very thoughtful. i didn’t think you’d paid that much attention to my yapping.”
Jack’s eyes darken at her sorrowful chuckle, his brows furrowing, “y/n, i listened to everything you said.”
her own eyebrows raise in surprise as he continues, “listening to you talk is my favorite thing in the world.”
is.
not ‘was’.
is.
“oh,” she blinks, trying to decide what to make of his words, “besides hockey, you mean.”
“i said what i said, y/n.” he shakes his head, “i like hearing you talk about things you love and things you’re passionate about.”
her heart skips what she feels is numerous beats as he waves a hand towards the gifts beside her, “you told me about these things a few months ago and i bought them right after you told me.”
“that purse?” he muses, “i bought that online as you were laying on my chest. literally right after you showed it to me for the first time. i didn’t even need to buy any new gifts for the secret santa because i had them all sitting on the top shelf of my closet.”
his eyebrows furrow and his eyes narrow as he corrects himself, “except the book. i pre-ordered that when you showed it to me online but it got here last week.”
her eyes are soft as she observes the man in front of her, soaking in every word he said. blood collects in her cheeks as she regards him, as she comes to realize just how much he loved her.
“i bought your presents a few months ago too,” she quirks, “i was slowly collecting them to give you at christmas but…”
she trails off, refusing to say the words that hang in the air.
they broke up.
they’re not together anymore.
he wanted them to be over.
“y/n,” he starts with a heavy sigh, her eyes trailing back up from the floor to look at his face, “i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.”
“if i could take back everything i said, i would. i was stressed and i took it out on you and it wasn’t right. i know it wasn’t right. i said things that i regret now. god, i wish you could understand how badly i regret them. as soon as you left, i knew i had fucked up. i wanted to take it all back so bad, but i couldn’t because i said them and you were gone. i didn’t think you would want anything to do with me after that, so i gave you your space and i thought i was doing what was right by leaving you alone, but if i could go back? i never would’ve said we should break up.”
her eyes sting as a single tear trails down her cheek. listening to him express his regret and anger with himself has her desperate to touch him; to comfort him in any way she can.
“i love you, y/n. and i know it’s probably too late, but i just need you to know how sorry i am for what happened, and i need you to know that i do still love you.”
Jack takes a deep breath, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he attempts to blink them back, because he doesn’t want her to think he turned on the waterworks to try and make her feel sorry for him. he doesn’t want her to take him back out of pity. he doesn’t expect her to take him back at all.
because he wouldn’t, if he were her.
he couldn’t blame her. he was a jerk, and he hurt her when she didn’t deserve it.
“i’m sorry i left.” her words are raspy and choked, so quiet that Jack can barely make them out. but his head snaps up in surprise as he registers her statement.
“y/n, no-” but before he can tell her she nothing to apologize for, she cuts him off.
“i’m sorry i didn’t fight you harder. i should’ve yelled and screamed if i needed to. i should’ve fought to keep us, and instead i just walked away. and i’m so sorry that i did, Jack.” her voice trembles, cracking on a few syllables as she turns to face him better.
“i love you so much, and i should’ve fought harder to keep you. i knew you were stressed and i knew that you probably weren’t in the right mindset, but i still left. because, i thought once you were feeling better, you would’ve called or texted or shown up or something. but then you didn’t and i realized that maybe i made a mistake by leaving your apartment that night. i realized that maybe i should’ve stayed and fought with you. i should’ve told you ‘no’ when you said we should break up. i should’ve refused. but then i thought, maybe you really did just mean it. maybe i was the reason you were stressed. maybe you truly just didn’t want to be with me anymore. and i had to accept that. but i still haven’t accepted it, because i still want you.”
before she can even think to say more, her mouth is covered by his, a breathless and heated kiss pressed to her lips.
tangling his hands in her hair, Jack pulls her even closer to him, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip. her lips part beneath his, and his tongue slips between them, leaving soft caresses against her own as she lets out a low whimper.
pulling back, they both pant for air, their bodies alight with the soft hum of electricity that sparks when they’re close.
“if you’ll still have me, i still really really want you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing lightly against hers with every move.
with her forehead pressed against his, she nods eagerly, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips, “please.”
“you gonna be my girlfriend again?” he nearly begs, a smile lighting up his face as she nods again, humming an ‘mhm’ in agreement, “i love you, pretty girl.”
“i love you too,” she whispers, coaxing his lips back to hers in another heavy, breathless kiss.
one of his hands travels down her body, bunching under her sweater as her hands grip his in fistfuls at his hips.
“you’re welcome!”
the two newly reunited lovers jolt apart, heads snapping to look at the doorway, Luke idles with his arms crossed against his chest.
“what?” Jack scoffs, scowling at his younger brother.
“you didn’t seriously think tonight happened by fate, did you?” it’s Luke’s turn to scoff, “i asked Nico to make sure you got each other for secret santa, i made sure everyone else was partnered up for the gingerbread houses, i made sure you got matching sweaters, and i made you stop under the mistletoe.”
Luke shakes his head as he continues, “do you know how fucking exhausting it was watching you two mope around for the past month and ask me for updates on each other? you’re welcome! this is the only christmas gift you’re getting from me, so don’t expect anything else.”
Jack and y/n stare at Luke in a daze, astonished by his outburst.
“um, thank you?” she lilts, tilting her head as she watches Luke push off the doorframe and spin around.
“mhm! i’m staying here at Nico’s tonight. you’re welcome! again!”
#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes#nhl fic#nhl imagine#faithlynn’s writings <3#ho ho hockey 2024 🎄#HHH 🎄#jh86
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