#Chaos' Buddie fics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonchild1 · 7 months

Text

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)

hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a

↬ DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

block party by @minlucent f s a

↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l

a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg

↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it?

lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l

secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au

i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a

↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you.

fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth

↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller

pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s

↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l

animal by @cutaepatootie f s a

↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST

things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a

↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth

↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a

↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a

↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?

horizon by @/sokooks f s a

↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au

searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a

↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.

twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.

when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a

↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on

better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a

↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him

our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7

↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au

dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a

↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au

together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm

↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au

hot bot by @/httpjeon f s

↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.

stardust by @iamtaekooked f

↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his

serendipity by @rohobi f s a

↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.

chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.

I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a

↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au

sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a

↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin

↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au

sleepwalking by @taexual f s a

↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a

↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury.

OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.

as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a

↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”

hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.

J’aime by @baepop f s a

↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth

↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend

make me forget by @roseannekook f s a

↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.

one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm

↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song

boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a

↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc

the boy who left by @/gujoonim a

↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au

love sewn by @jvnghxope s a

↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

not yet by f s @bratkook f s a

↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.

one shot

blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a

↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au

southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a

↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.

house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a

↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.

enouement by @littlemisskookie s a

↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au

miss taken by @junghelioseok f s

↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l

the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a

↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.

the proposal by @hansolmates f s a

↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l

red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s

↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money.

burning bright by @snackhobi s

↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim

but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a

↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.

the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj

↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need.

illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a

↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.

the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a

↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au

rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a

↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.

lowkey by @joonbird s

↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.

part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a

↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.

sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a

↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'

i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj

↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man.

white lies by @noteguk f s a

↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.

yes coach by @/taleanewastime s

↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.

spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s

↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.

fifth wish by @jiminrings f a

↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.

blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth

↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

5K notes · View notes

hoseoksluna · 3 months

Text

SOJU | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. hobi)

genre: heavy angst, heavy smut

word count: 10.4k

summary: jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

playlist: soju / pinterest board: wine

warnings: sex flashbacks, alcohol consumption, jungkook is drunk emotional and a mess, jealousy, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), almost heavy dd/lg themes, plushie used during intercourse, inner child healing, use of a sex toy, oral sex (f. receiving), ass play and nipple play, provocation, dirty talk, hair pulling, dry humping, rough sex, overstimulation, pain felt during intercourse, jungkook instructs reader like the teacher he is, pet names and one particular title used, squirting, praise kink, jungkook is mean and cruel and just so horny

note: i will never forget this fic. never. this is the third part of 'wine' and therefore the very end to this adventitious series. even though, this part has a little bit information and quirks in it from the other two fics, it's fine to read as a standalone, but i do recommend reading all three parts as they interlink and you can beautifully see the process and the change of their relationship. i want to thank the lovely soul who asked me to make this a series because writing this made me incredibly happy—and all the themes i used mean the world to me. i also want to thank all of you for reading and for all the love. i hope you like this as much as i do. please, heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that not everyone can be comfortable with. with that being said, enjoy your reading and let me know what you think, let me know your favorite parts. ᡣ𐭩

side note: drunk 3D jungkook being all mean, dominant and daddy is, quite literally, the epitome of my sexuality.

Jungkook will always be a man of his word.

It’s the foundation that keeps his back straight as he leads you through the crowd. The core of the whole promise is the very strength of his fingers as they clasp around your much smaller hand because he notices, under the washed out lights of red and violet, that you’re the center of attention.

He feels as though he’s dragging the hand of a child like a protective father. Except, he has the impulsive need to cover you with his body.

It’s a blasting alarm within the ear splitting chaos of his mind. Louder than the modern music he cares little for; louder than the song of the hard, quickening beats of his heart that he’s unable to ignore. He promised he’d make it up to you about the party because he’d made you drunk with lust. Now that he’s taken you here, he’d much rather be back home with you. Wouldn’t even have the need to seduce you—he just doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want you to be the apple of everyone’s eye.

Sweat glistens on the planes of his forehead.

Jungkook returns every inquisitive look of people he doesn’t know with a stern furrow of his brows. Figures he needs a drink; figures he needs his hyung, at least one familiar face among strangers.

A strong one, to calm the storm within, and a big hug from the host himself.

He hates people.

Leading you to the makeshift bar of spirits in the kitchen, he has a protective hand over the small of your back as you climb on the bar stool. Watches as your ass lifts over the leather and almost jumps out of his own skin when the outsole of your high-heeled shoe slips on the footrest and you fall back onto the chair with a thud. A precious set of treble giggles billow out of your mouth, followed by a reassuring flick of your hand that you’re okay, and Jungkook’s own hand trembles when he lifts it off your back. While you open your purse to reapply your lip gloss, he hides behind his tight, feigned smile the need to run and calm his breathing.

His irises wander over the contents of that purse of yours. Finds a long brown pencil there, your phone, a pack of cigarettes with a purple lighter and a ring of keys adorned with the tiniest Hello Kitty he’s ever seen. No wallet, no cash tucked beneath. A smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, hand acting out of its own will—coming over to your long hair, smoothing it down as you focus on lining your lips with another set of glitter and pinkness. Perhaps the gesture is owed to the proudness he feels due to the fact you’re expecting to be provided for throughout the night, wherever it takes you both after this party. Blurred within is the smugness that he’s the reason you’re dolling yourself up again because he couldn’t help but make a mess of your mouth in the car. It makes his cock grow tight in his pants.

He wears the smugness all over his features. From the gleaming cosmos in his eyes, to the smudged kiss stains of all the roses in the world scattering over his nose and cheeks, down to the deepening smirk. He thinks he’d buy you anything your eyes would linger a heartbeat longer on, with snacks included in case you’d get hungry, as he silently praises you for your good behavior, for that smart brain of yours by the brush of his hand down your hair. A sick part of him wants to even get in debt for you for the pure fun of it—the fun being the primal core of your wishes and needs being gratified, for your satisfaction to shine through the veins on your skin like little sun rays, all while having the time of your life on the night out he promised you.

He’s not afraid to admit he’d do anything for you as long as it stays safely stashed within his system. Can’t risk voicing it out. Can’t risk you knowing. Can’t risk shit.

Studying the shape of your lips as you hold up a small heart-shaped mirror, he twirls the ends of your hair as he waits for you to be done to ask you what you want to drink. Is reminded of the way those pillows wrapped around the straw of the banana milk you brought for him the last time he saw you. Of the way they sucked his fingers when he used them for lubrication to rub your clit while he was fully buried inside your tight, dew-sprinkled cunt. He suddenly feels hot under his collar.

He’s a slave to flashbacks. Always has been.

The celestial concoction of your needy moans and his, kept safe within the confines of his car, loop in his brain. The look of agonized lust when he bit your bottom lip in a heated kiss that he soon alleviated with the swipe of his tongue, with the suction of his lips that begged him to take more of you. Jungkook hears it as if there wasn’t any music at all, as if its thrumming wasn’t enveloping the corridors of his panic-stricken heart. He hears your words, embellished by those giggles of yours, in his ears all over again: “Stop, you’re making me horny. We should go inside.” His own, too: “You dance better for me when your panties are wet. I know you do.” Sees again, as if the moment is happening again and you’re standing in front of him, the way you reacted to his hands warming up your sides in the cold after you stumbled out of his car. Sighing softly, glossy eyes whirling upwards to the drowsy sky full of quivering stars, tipsy on the desire he’s obsessed with awakening in you while being tipsy just the same. The smile rising on your lips when he asked: “Show me how you’re gonna dance for me.” The way you moved your hips in such a silly way that squeezed his heart until it was difficult to breathe.

He’s fucked. Knows he is. Has known it for a while now.

You’re the origin of the chaos within his mind. The body of it itself. He has a teeny-tiny version of you in his mind that lives there, and lives there well because he feeds her, brushes her hair and gives her kisses, despite the storm.

He could never tell you—how much he thinks about you daily.

To a certain extent, he almost did the last time you came around, in a frenzy of sensuality and pent-up desire that consumed him. Prayed you didn’t see it for the way it really was.

It’s not just lust, and it’s more than just a friendship.

He figured as much—doesn’t have any fucking idea what to do with it.

Not a single one. Especially not when you pucker your lips at him and screw the applicator back into the tube.

He doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t ever want to lose the sight of that pucker of yours. And he fears that if he tells you of his weakness for you, he might never see it again.

So, he opts to keep things safe, keep things casual. That is until he eventually bursts.

That’s another promise, too.

He pulls on one of your strands. Your head knocks back, eyes wide at the audacity of it all. He laughs at your reaction.

“Can you stop?”

Jungkook does it again just to see the shock written over your face, full on belly laughing.

“What the fuck?” You slap his shoulder, the impact so small he barely feels it. “You want me to pull your hair, too?”

He grabs his stomach. “No, what I want to know is what you wanna drink.”

You purse your lips in feigned anger, fingers outstretched by the back of his head to play-pull his hair or perhaps slap him into oblivion. If you could manage it.

He doesn’t think you could.

He goes around you to sit beside you on the bar stool, studying the bottles of liquor his hyung bought. Is ignorant to the way you’re studying him, to the way the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly at the discovery of the current situation in his intimate parts.

Pulls out one to acknowledge himself with it. Asks you if you wanna drink it.

You don’t say anything.

When Jungkook lifts his eyes to scold you for not paying attention, all the words get hitched in his throat. You’re grinning from ear to ear. All those damned words are forgotten immediately.

“Are you hard?” you whisper, flushed at the face, glossy eyes glimmering, ever so excited about your discovery.

He feels himself twitch. Hides it by cupping himself discreetly.

Averts his eyes. “I’m always hard around you,” he mutters, twisting the bottle open. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

He doesn’t look at you when he pours you a shot, but he focuses on the way your breathing gains speed. Fights the smile threatening his lips caused by how easy it is to provoke you.

“You wanna get out of here?”

You’re hasty as you ask, looking around you, inspecting which room you could use to drag him into and relieve him of his problem, but he assures you it’s no problem at all with a curt shake of his head.

Strangely, he found a way to like the tension in his pants. Thinks it digs deep into the depth of the moment—simply makes it more exciting.

“We just got here,” Jungkook says flatly, screwing the lid back on. “Don’t be rude.”

He filled your shot to the brim not necessarily with the intention to make you drunk as fast as he can, but to watch your eyes widen the way they do so sweetly. And you don’t disappoint him at all when you do just that, the smile on your lips blossoming still. An aura of shyness envelops you in softness due to his disapproving words and Jungkook realizes he grazed your submission by reprimanding you. While it magnifies his smugness, he feels a little bit bad for you. Knows how much it turns you on when his fatherliness looms out, but blames you for it nonetheless. You rouse it in him.

You may have never told him about your father wounds, but his instincts sensed it in you—sought it out like its own child and cradled it in his arms, promising to never let go.

Promise. There it is again.

He wants to spend the rest of his life promising you things. Doesn’t matter what. He just wants the security, the cord of trust, that you’ll be here; that you’ll be here for a long time. It truly doesn’t matter if he promises you things internally or outwardly.

Jungkook cups your chin. Wants to say something. Wants to reassure you that you can take the shot, encourage you a tiny bit. But what you say to him dries up his throat completely.

“You don’t want a blowie?”

Your words were a mere silky noise, but he heard you. Curled his fingers tight into fists in order not to bend you over the bar stool and take you right then and there in front of everyone.

Decides he will provoke you right back.

“You don’t want a lickie?” he murmurs, drawing close to you so you’re the only one who hears him. “You don’t want Daddy’s tongue on your little clit?”

You gasp and grip his knee, your legs intuitively spreading.

Jungkook skims his surroundings to see if anyone’s watching. When the coast is clear—people mindlessly mingling, having conversations—he hovers his lips against your ear, hand coming in between your legs, not to touch you but to cover you. Whispers, “or you don’t want Daddy’s tongue fucking you fast? Licking over your little ass? Hm, you don’t know how good that feels yet, do you?”

You’re holding in a sob—Jungkook sees it in the way your eyes and lips round, brows furrowing. He made you wet. Serves you right.

He pulls away to pour you a chaser. Asks which one you want.

You take a deep breath, flicking your hair back. “Coca cola,” you chirp, despite the deathly grip you have on his knee, perhaps to hold your sanity together, other fingers wrapping around the shot. Small, so fitting for an equally small glass.

Jungkook laughs. Loves it. Loves…

The realization, of what he almost granted access to within his system, strangles his heart. He hears nothing for a moment, not the music, not the tremor of his weak heart. Nothing.

A can of Coke waits for you behind the bar on the kitchen counter and before any thought flicks through his brain, Jungkook stands to his feet to fetch it for you—to get his blood pumping again so he can gain control of his senses. It scares him, the nothingness. Even his eyes fail to focus as he looks for the metallic red can he swore he saw hardly a minute ago. He feels a slap on his back and a familiar face, at last, comes into view.

Hobi.

The first thought that resurfaces is filled with thankfulness enveloping around that name, dispersed with tiny kisses of ‘you saved me, hyung’. Jungkook dives head-first into the offering hug of his savior, his senses returning to him like magnets attaching to metal. He takes in a deep breath as if he was under water and just came up for air.

“So glad to see you,” Hobi says, rubbing his back.

Jungkook squeezes his shoulder. Says something that doesn’t reflect what he truly wants to say, keeps up the small talk while burying under layers upon layers of mud the confession that he almost told himself he loved you.

Which reminds him that he didn’t introduce you.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jungkook says, grabbing the can of Coke his eyesight is now clear enough to spot and an empty, tall glass for you. Guides his friend to where you’re sitting but what he sees almost makes him jump out of his own skin for the second time in the span of an hour—almost sobs tearfully at the unfortunate discovery.

A mop of dirty blonde curls shaking at the impact of his laughter as he whispers sweet nothing into the shell of your ear. He towers from behind you, compressing you in the muscly width of his half-barren chest. An electricity of anguish spasms down the course of Jungkook’s body, for in a flash he’s reminded of the way you towered above him just the same the last time. His sweat cools as you listen to him, a pang after pang of jealousy stinging him in his abdomen. He’s frozen on the spot—Hobi says something, but Jungkook can’t hear him—that is until you make a face of discomfort.

Jungkook sees red.

His heart slams hard against his chest, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel its intention to break his ribcage.

The words unfurl out of his tight mouth before he can think them through. “Can I fucking help you?” he hisses through his teeth, setting the glass and the can down harshly. The noise makes you jump, which instantly drives him to regret his actions—and it puts an end to his rage.

He didn’t mean to scare you. Doesn’t want you to regard him this way.

The sudden softness welcomes his senses back with a gentle beckoning.

Lifting his eyes, the guy ignores the question. Whispers something again that forces you to pierce your stare into the fire that burns within Jungkook’s irises. Not the fire he let you see throughout the trajectory of your casual relationship, the blue, the dreamily sultry one.

The one that licks over his eyes is black. Pitch black. No sign of stars, no dots of reflection of light. Pure pitch black.

But you hold his gaze, unafraid of the darkness.

For a reason unknown to him, it ignites you with strength to shove raggedy Barbie Ken away. Your touch lingers on his chest for a mere second and is not as scorching as the bite of your words: “Yes, I’m here with him and I’m not interested in you. Go away.”

Jungkook doesn’t look at the guy. Doesn’t give two shits about the painful twists of his features as he staggers away. Forgets about Hobi; forgets about the questioning looks of strangers digging into his back. All he sees is you. All he hears is the sigh of relief once he’s gone. And Jungkook is hasty as he reaches for you, relieved himself—relieved that he didn’t have to fight the fucker and alter the trust you have in him—needing you close, needing to gain back his control. He’s almost smiling uncomfortably at the ridiculous twist of events, but then the tug of his mouth stills.

You slip out of his grasp and move past him.

There’s silence within Jungkook’s ribcage. Not one beat or flutter, not one kick.

Nothing.

***

Knocking back shots after shots, Jungkook remains silent. Doesn’t answer any of his hyung’s questions. Doesn’t look at any of the girls who sashay to Hobi’s thigh to chitchat. His gaze merely remains fixed on the empty glass of the chaser he never had the chance to pour you.

Your shot of the dark liquor is also left untouched.

It’s the twinge of pity he feels that gives the order to his feet to rise. Hobi grabs his arm, long fingers digging into the hard leather of his jacket. Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate his stare, despite its heavy energy. Keeps his head low instead.

“Give her more time,” Hobi says, lugging him down to a seated position but Jungkook untangles out of his grip.

Grabs a bottle of soju as he mutters, “half an hour is more than enough.”

He makes a way through the corridor towards the door you slinked into, the translucent bottle swinging by his jean-clothed thigh. Doesn’t knock on the wood, instead walks straight in as if he owned the place.

You’re sitting by the foot of the bed. The yellowness of the subdued bedside lamp drapes your sagged shoulders in gold, filtering through your hair that obscures your face. You had taken off your shoes and they lie crooked and alone by your stocking-clad feet. Jungkook wonders if that’s how you feel.

His weakness caused by the unfortunate events and the sadness engulfing you stops him from moving a step closer to you as he beholds your puny form, but Jungkook fights it—fights for you. He needs to be in control. Of his own body and emotions, no matter how strenuous he finds it. He needs to be strong—and he needs to be strong for you to make things right.

He clicks the door shut behind him. As he walks towards you, he opens the bottle of soju with the firmness of his phone and takes a long sip. Settles in between your legs on the ground, crossing his legs at the ankles. Probs you on the calf to make his presence known to you, cooing your name.

You sniff your nose, gathering your hair to the side, curling the shorter pieces behind your ear. Your face glistens from the rivers of tears he wasn’t there to wipe away, cheeks flushed from all the onrush of emotions that wasn’t of the coy or sensuous kind he likes so much. The hard stone of his heart cracks at your broken countenance and the back and forth swipe of his fingers on the nylon of your stocking grows more tender the more he takes in your sadness. He wishes to inhale it, rid you of it once and for all. Thinks it doesn’t belong to you. Wants to fight the guy, make you laugh—make a fool out of himself—and make love to you. Wants all of those things at the same time, but he realizes he can’t tear himself apart.

He decides being here is enough. He can fix whatever has been broken here in Hobi’s room.

“This is so fucked up, Jungkook.”

You’re the first one to break the silence and it takes a slight weight off of his shoulders. Jungkook hums, prompts you to speak further on what hurts your heart. Wraps his entire hand around the muscle of your calf, thumb tracing figures of eight on your skin.

The warmth helps you look him in the eye, but you don’t say anything else.

Jungkook figures it’s his turn.

“I wouldn’t let him touch you,” he says softly, hand drifting down to cradle the heel of your lifted foot. You’re mine, he doesn’t add.

Your mouth rounds once again in a wave of emotion that clutches you. You don’t let the tears fall, looking up to the ceiling so the little pearls don’t trickle out of your tear ducts. Jungkook notices puffy marks of darkness under your bottom lashes, where he swore he saw thin pathways of glitter, small shooting stars traveling around the globe of your eyes. They’re nowhere to be found now, you’ve rubbed them away.

“I know, it’s not about that.” You sniff, hands hooking under the hem of your skirt just to have something to hold onto, to busy your fingers a little—as if he wasn’t right there. “I think I kinda get you know.”

Jungkook makes a sound that asks you to enlighten him, taking a swig of the sweet liquor to aid him in forgetting what he didn’t say. But the more he drinks, the more he remembers—the more his feelings splutter to life. It’s like he didn’t drink a drop at all.

“I never understood why you need to be in control all the time,” you start, fixing your gaze on his. “But I finally did when that guy had his arms around me and wouldn’t let go. I wished I had even a small bit of control in that moment when I was alone. I hated feeling like I had to endure it when all I wanted to do was run away.” You break apart at your last words and Jungkook’s world crumbles in his hands.

There’s chaos in his mind. A chaos of selfish nature that wants to prove you wrong because no, he doesn’t have any control when it comes to you, when you’re dressed, perfect and broken altogether. He doesn’t have shit—he’s nothing. A complete mess. And perhaps it’s his bruised heart that acts out despite this self-pitying mayhem grappling him, shutting it out into eternal darkness, for Jungkook doesn’t even know how he does it when he pulls you down onto his lap by a careful drag of your legs and encases you within the heated snugness of his arms.

He doesn’t even understand his own words when he says, “You can take all of mine. It’s yours.”

Jungkook doesn’t care about anything at all because when you start to sob into his shoulders, he breaks along with you—bursts at the seams completely.

“I know you were scared, but that won’t happen again. Not when I give you all of my control.” His words are smooth amidst the stream of his liquid emotions and Jungkook is glad for it—glad to be a pillar you can lean on. He imagines transferring all of his being, not just his control, to you like a blanket draping around your shoulders, so the situation never happens again.

His tears soak your hair strands and they carry his sorrowful kiss to the crook of your neck. He doesn’t want to utter a sound, wants to remain strong, but his heavy exhales betray him, wafting against you as he tightens his grip around your violently shuddering body in effort to soothe it. Considers this moment to be yours alone, doesn’t want to be selfish. Wants to be there for you.

“You helped me when I saw you,” you say against his skin, the sound muffled but he hears you—tightens his lips in a firm line in order not to wail. “When I saw that you were there, I was strong enough to push him away. You were my backup, Jungkook.”

He agrees with a soft sound, rocking you back and forth as he cradles you. Leans his head against the side of yours, shielding you from the world and its wickedness.

Your cries quieten. “But I want to be strong even when you’re not there.”

Jungkook strokes your hair, understands you even when it pains him—his attachment to you pulled so taut he fears it’ll break. “You’re strong now. I gave you my control, didn’t I?”

To his surprise, you nod.

After you pull away to breathe and Jungkook sweeps your tears away with his thumb, he’s smothered with the reminder that he made a promise to himself—a promise that is on the brink of being fulfilled.

The walls close in on him, but he doesn’t care. He promised to keep things casual until he bursts. He refuses to go another day pretending you’re just a friend he feels nothing for. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the heavily charged emotions that make the decision for him, but he simply doesn’t care about the outcome anymore. The truth has to come out into the light.

Jungkook calls you by your name. Brushes your hair back so he can look properly in the faded lush of your eyes; cradles your face in his hands like that. You call him by his name as well, whispering it into the shadows of the room. Such a soft, silky sound that puts pink plasters over the cracks in his heart. He says your name in the same intonation just to get a taste of liberty.

“I’m yours,” he confesses, a lump forming in his throat, and he’s too late to blink the tears away. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you; since the moment you laid your hands on me. Yours for the taking. My heart, my control—it’s all yours.”

The bridge constricting his throat collapses when you give him a look of endearment, your features softening, rounding in emotion. Jungkook watches as a tear rolls down your cheek; feels an identical one going down the same path on his own skin, fiery and hot.

“I’m sorry.” He breaks into sobs—and break, break, break is all he does. “I’m sorry if you wanted to stay casual, but I can’t… and-and I can’t let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you.”

You bunch the material of his wife-beater in your fists under his jacket, mewling tender weeping sounds. Jungkook bites his lip to prevent himself from spilling in your hands, needing you to say something, anything, so he can straighten his back and call it a night. You bury your head in his chest and Jungkook lulls you to calmness while needing it himself. He suddenly feels alone. Alone and crooked like your shoes, as if he said the wrong thing, as if he didn’t deserve any reassurement, any love for what he just did—

You mumble something into his skin.

His heart jumps.

“I didn’t catch that, baby.”

You lift your head, clutching the sides of his neck. “I like you, too, Jungkook.”

Your words tell him a lot of things.

He didn’t make a mistake tonight. He didn’t do anything bad, didn’t lose you for the rest of his life. He will see that pucker of yours for the months to come, your glitter and all your shooting stars will be there to guide him home.

And the other thing is—he fell for you first. Because while you like him, he absolutely and irrevocably loves all of who you are.

He smiles at you, though. The bridge takes the heft on his shoulders along with it and disperses into nothingness. He wants to thank you. He wants to thank you for the kindness you expressed towards him, for your hands that hold him. And he does by kissing you, by inhaling you, taking away all your sadness and the bad events that caused it.

“You mean a lot to me,” you say against his lips, pretty wet eyelashes fluttering. Jungkook feels their dewiness; wants to feel yours, too. There’s a pout to his mouth as he listens to you. “You changed my life. You make it better.” He nods at your words, senses them opening a window in his heart to let the fresh air in. “I don’t ever wanna lose you, Gguk. You’re too important.”

He almost says it. Those three words. But he keeps them stored within the now brisk chamber of his heart, full of spring. Flowers grow, in place of the plasters.

Jungkook caresses your cheek. “I want to make you forget.”

You beam at him—and there he feels it, the pulse of his heart, its song and its steady, balmy notes.

“Make me forget about tonight, please.”

He kisses you, adds in a million tiny pecks in between, sliding his tongue inside your mouth in brief greeting. His fingers blindly find the bottle of Soju and when he withdraws with a pop, he presents it to you.

“Look at what I got you,” Jungkook says, chuckling.

You wrap your hand around his on the bottle and he tips it to your mouth, helping you drink it. You widen your eyes at him when he wants you to drink more than you do, and he lowers his hand with a grin. Loves those eyes of yours. Loves your mouth as he wipes it clean with his thumb.

It’s lighthearted, the state of his emotions. He had tasted liberty by fondly mimicking your intonation, but now it courses through his veins, now it’s his. He feels so very glad to be alive at this moment and he wants to celebrate in the only way he knows he can.

“I got you another thing as well, but it’s back home,” Jungkook says. “I can’t drive but we can take an Uber.”

“Let’s go.”

Jungkook straps your heels, fixes your skirt and swipes his thumbs under your eyes to rid you of black mascara stains. Offering you his hand, you take his pinky and ring finger and he leads you out of the room with you following behind. He skims the living room to find Hobi but, again, he’s nowhere in sight until you tap his shoulder and point to the right side of the corridor. Hobi is rising to his feet from sitting on the stairs. The thought of his hyung staying around for him instead of enjoying the party squeezes his heart in gratitude. He hugs him and when it’s your turn to say your goodbye, Hobi pulls you in for a hug as well, rubbing your back as he asks you if you’re okay.

The soju remains in your hand. Sitting on the curb outside, both of you finish it while waiting to be picked up with Jungkook’s hand on your thigh and rough kisses shared in between. The wind doesn’t dare to disturb the intimacy, but watches on with a fond care, the stars hanging low, peeking through to witness at least one good thing of the night.

***

“If this breaks me out, I’m gonna kill you.”

Jungkook is carefully tender as he drags the makeup wipe along the perimeters of your cheeks, scowling at the sun-filled tint coloring the whiteness of the wet cloth. He had spent half an hour choosing the right brand in the drugstore earlier in the morning because he decided you were going to sleep over without telling you, reading each small letter on the packaging, despite the fact he understood shit.

You’re still clothed and so is he, resting in the middle of the comfort of his bed as he hovers above you, knees perched at the foot of the bed. The aching ball of your own foot grazes the bulge in his intimate parts and Jungkook himself is at wonder how he’s able to focus when it stimulates all of his senses, adding heat to his body.

“It’s Korean, it won’t break you out,” he mutters, swiping along the underside of your eye with extra care.

“I once had a toner that—”

Jungkook covers your mouth with his palm. “It’s Korean,” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you.

You giggle and he drops his glower, beaming down at you.

“You know I can do it myself. I’m not that drunk.”

He focuses on your forehead now, cleaning off your foundation and all those sparkles.

“I know you can, but let me.”

You babble on and Jungkook decides he’s had enough of it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m gonna shut you up.”

He dumps the makeup wipe on your face and rummages through his bedside drawer. While you use it to cleanse off your neck, Jungkook spoils your surprise and opens your present. Is discreet as he smuggles it between your legs, pressing it against your clothed clit.

The soft vibrations spread throughout his whole hand. He increases the intensity.

You freeze, flicking your eyes to his, makeup wipe long forgotten. You roll your hips against the toy.

“Oh my god.”

Serves you fucking right.

“Keep talking,” Jungkook mutters. “Hm, keep fucking talking and dare to come.”

It’s maniacal, his laugh, but gentle and amorous in nature because he fucking loves you, loves to tease you, loves to make you feel good—show your body new things that it willingly accepts. You wiggle your hips, chasing the pleasure, mouth fallen open, emitting tiny satiny legato whimpers, which cause his cock to twitch in his pants—so much that he begins to move the purple toy all around your femininity while palming himself. He notices your lack of babbling.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in feigned sympathy. “You suddenly have nothing to say?”

You smile at him, and it stops everything. The roleplay of his mean dominance, the vibrations buzzing his hand. He turns the toy off and is straightforward as he says, “undress.”

Does so himself.

He takes off his leather jacket and unbuttons his pants; watches you as you drag the skirt down those hips he wants nothing more than to kiss and hold in his hands. When it pools around your knees, he chucks the material behind him. You hook your thumbs beneath the waistband of your stockings and Jungkook thinks about how he’d like to tear them apart and make you lose your mind through the hole he’d create as he strokes the outer side of your thigh. He wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but he just can’t help it.

You rouse it him and he just listens.

His hands are quick as they rip a hole above the center of your rosily pink panties. He smirks at your shocked gasp, so short and dry, drawing close to your pussy, kissing her, nuzzling his face in her. The tension in his intimate parts is almost unbearable when you run your hands through his hair and incite him to do more. He licks over the tiny wet spot on the frail material that he’s the artist of, adding to it, and watches the roll of your eyes because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. It’s a dance what your hips do, the most unkind torture and he longs to squeeze them.

He’s a good boy when it comes to listening to his body’s desires.

Making a way through the beige hole, ripping it further in the process, he grabs the supple skin, thumbs fondling over your hip bones. So small, so delicious. Jungkook licks his lips, pushes your underwear to the side to reveal your dewy little seashell—fixes it so it stays put. Looks up at you. “Top off. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

You’re a good girl, too, when it comes to obeying his wishes.

A praiseful coo ripples out of his mouth once you reveal your black padded bra. Jungkook decides he wants it to be in line of his sight, so he lowers the straps down your arms and merely tugs the undergarment below your breasts. The spillage and the ripple of their fullness almost makes him die right then and there. Jungkook bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.

Two hindrances. The silky straps on your arms, the stockings he will soon lower down your thighs. Jungkook curses under his breath; thinks he should’ve gotten the ropes he was eyeing after his drugstore run. Pink and rough, just the kind you would’ve liked.

Perhaps it isn’t needed for the lovemaking he longs for with you. Playtime and lovemaking are two different things, he concludes.

He’s so horny he might lose his mind first. And he does—with nose pressed against your sternum, babbling nonsense while he buries his head in your tits. Inhaling your vanilla and tuberose scent, he kisses the valley leading up to the peak of your stiffened nub, trails it with his tongue, goes the extra mile to suck it into his mouth, hearing its call. He’s just listening—listening to your body language that asks for him. His eyes are blurry when he gazes at you. You’ve fled to the pink planet again, but he wants you here with him. While he flicks your nipple with his nimble tongue, he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks. Would die for your adorableness. Would go to war for it, a thousand times over.

Jungkook sucks the nub to make your travel back to Earth faster and he accomplishes what he wants. With a roll of your body and a moan, you’re back, looking down at him, cradling him, brushing his hair back. He makes sure you see the way he toys with your nipple—keeps his mouth open as he circles it, flicks it before he sucks it back inside.

“Stay here with me,” Jungkook mumbles, switching to the other nipple. “Please.”

You nod, grinding your hips against his stomach. Another call. Your hands slide lower to his neck and Jungkook understands you want more.

“Take control of me, baby,” he says. “Flip me over.”

Your breath is shaky. A light flickers in your eyes, glints like his saliva adorning your nipple in the yellow dimness of the room. You grab a hold of his neck with your one hand like he does to you every time while the other comes around his shoulder and you push him to his back in one swift motion.

Jungkook feels proud. You learn well from him. So studious, so smart, so cute.

You straddle his hips and Jungkook begins to trace your thighs, fingertips gliding back and forth on the nylon, until he grips your hips—and grips them hard. He forces you down on the bulge of his cock, hissing at the pleasure rising up his abdomen. He feels your dewiness against the material of his boxers soaking it through. He guides your hips in a steady but firm rhythm and once you familiarize yourself with it and hump him on your own, he brushes his fingers across your wet nipples. The sensation sends you toppling back, spine arched as you ride him like you rode his Hello Kitty plushie, but Jungkook keeps his fingers on those two little nubs. Your tits bounce and slap against each other and he just follows their movement, squeezing, grazing, leading you to the burst of your climax. When he lets go, you lower your body enough for him to nuzzle his face in them, moving you to the tip of his cock that peeks out of his boxers. The contact of your little soaked clit with his oozing arousal makes Jungkook moan into your skin, and he feels his balls tighten.

He lets you know by squeezing your arm, as if his furrowed brows, flushed face and the planes of his forehead shining in a layer of sweat weren’t indicating the matter enough.

You enjoy every second of the torment you bestow upon him, back upright now, fingertip playing with his navel.

Even more so as you flip around and ride him reverse cowgirl style, the nylon of your stockings stretched taut over your ass. Jungkook feels faint.

You’re wearing a thong that is but a thin fabric and would cover absolutely nothing if it were in its right place. He can see your little puckered hole that he’s very hungry for, starved actually, with each backward movement you make. He yanks his boxers down, granting you access to paint his manhood with the loveliness of your shiny dewiness. Grunts at the sloppiness of your flesh gliding back and forth as you toy with his ballsack. On the top of his cock, your juices mix with his—creating a pretty, pretty palette.

The way your pussy lips barely wrap around his girth, your little breaths and sobs—Jungkook can’t take it. White flashes in his eyesight, the build up of his orgasm nearing the end.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, flicking your hair behind your shoulders as you arch your back, your hair like a waterfall cascading down your spine.

Jungkook pulls on it, halting your torture. “You’re gonna make me come,” he purrs. “What a waste that would be—for me to come all over my pants like a teenager when your cunnie is right here.”

He rips your stocking further to reveal more of your ass. Pushes you towards his face until you’re sitting on it and—

He devours you.

You cry out. The sound propels him to tighten his grip around the small of your back, to quicken the shakes of his head while his tongue stimulates your engorged clit, occasionally flicking against the muscle to hear more of your little noises. Your palm feels up his wet shaft and Jungkook rewards you for being such a good girl that thinks of her Daddy by taking your bundle between his lips and sucking it. Your body quivers, plays tag with his tongue and Jungkook growls, your taste the sweetest thing he’s had all week and he can’t get enough. Needs more, needs…

“Fuck yourself on my tongue.”

He guides you. Spanks you when you find him. And the sobs you let out, interlaced with the naughtiest of whimpers, make him ache. Your walls press against him—stars fill his vision—and he can’t breathe. Needs you to come, needs a release himself, needs to taste your tiny hole that has never been touched before.

His hand extends for the purple toy, keeping it on the low setting. He presses it against your clit and the way you tighten around him lets him know you’re soaring; mere seconds away from ascending fully to the pearly gates.

Jungkook lets you reach your climax on your own, even though his hands itch to grab you and invigorate your thrusts. He wants you to have full control; wants you to get a heady taste of that liberty.

Wants you to get used to it.

You slow down your movement and Jungkook hears your cry first before your body begins to convulse. He holds you through your orgasm whilst he rubs the vibrator all over your clit and is ever so fucking mesmerized when he catches your pussy drooling and clenching.

He aches—aches badly to be inside of you.

Ridding you entirely of the mere cobwebs that your stockings have become, Jungkook holds your panties in place. His tongue darts out to swipe at your trickling hole, drags it past your skin across the other hole he’s yearning for. He feels you clench; he hears the litany of your incoherent words as you take in the new pleasure. He doesn’t touch your clit—he knows how sensitive it is after such an intense orgasm, so he just drags his tongue up and down both of your holes, swirling around the tight entrance.

When he penetrates you there, you scream.

You scream a bunch of yes’ in a row and Jungkook imagines your eyes are rolling back like they always are—imagines a grin on that fucked-out face of yours, eyelashes fluttering and wet with liquid emotions. It drives him to drill his tongue there in faster staccatos, moaning against you; the entirety of his bloodstream flowing to his intimate parts. He’s so hard he might burst, length heavy and solid against his stomach, but it brings him a great deal of pleasure to have you open like this, to taste you in a place no one has ever touched before, to give you a new experience that you’ll remember for a long time and possibly beg him for again.

He sighs against you, drinking you to relax his jaw. Is drunk on the moment, probably enjoys it more than you do.

You begin riding his face and he just offers you his tongue. Lets you do whatever you want.

“Feels so fucking good, Jungkook, oh my god.”

You’re fast now and Jungkook feels proud of you. You’re taking charge, chasing your pleasure. His heart skips a beat when you want him in your ass again, and he willingly obliges, fucking you there until the tremor of your body signals him of the thunder of your approaching orgasm.

You come on his tongue violently. Shuddering, screaming, leaving his neck, mouth, chin and cheeks wet. Dewiness for tears—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Turning around, you don’t let him breathe before you grab his face and kiss him, licking into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your own rich flavor. Jungkook reciprocates all of your kisses and swipes of your tongue, doesn’t try to dominate you but instead revels in the nasty kiss, bucking his hips against your heat. So slippery, so fleshy. He grunts into your mouth.

When Jungkook sees your blissed-out face, he grins at you. Is blissed-out himself. “How’s that?” he asks. “You have all of my control. All of it.”

Your voice is hoarse when you say, “so fucking amazing, thank you,” and grin down at him just the same.

Joy beats through his chest, illuminating him from within as if he had his own tapestry of the whole night sky right there above his heart.

You sink lower down his thighs and pepper kisses along the length of his sticky cock. The gesture moves him and he lets you stay there for a moment while he briefly ponders over how a paralyzing form of pain led him to such a pure, expanding joy that he feels right now.

Tears well up in his eyes.

“Come here,” Jungkook pleads and you lift your head like a puppy.

He decides that he doesn’t want any restrictions on your body anymore. Each move of his hand is calculated as he unclips your bra and tugs your stockings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Even his own clothes come off in a blink of an eye because all he wants is skin to skin contact, to be connected with you on the deepest, most raw level that there is.

There’s a bit of nervousness coating his voice when he asks you to ride him due to his vulnerability. And when he feels the beginning of you, your heat encompassing him like the warm wind he last had grazing his body in his summer childhood days, the tears that loom in his eyes rush out.

It feels like he’s back in those days, but only this time all things are made right. But he can’t lie his head down in that tall grass of his childhood and escape—not when you struggle to take him from the angle you’re not used to.

He doesn’t think he ever let you ride him. Not even once. He apprehends you don’t know how to go about it.

“I know it hurts from this angle, but you can take it,” he says, willing his voice to be smooth as if he wasn’t crying at all—is thankful for the dimness that obscures his vulnerability from you. “You’ve taken me before, you can do it. Relax for me, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, stay frozen on the spot, and Jungkook can’t see. Filmy vision, emotions hurling at him like an incoming surge of waves. But all of that takes a step back when you mewl a pained noise and let yourself fall on his chest, his cock only a quarter of the way in.

“I’m scared. It’s too sensitive, it hurts.”

You shift your hips so he slips out of you. Jungkook kisses your forehead, wraps an arm around you while the other travels further down, below the roundness of your cheeks. Makes sure you look at him as he says, “don’t be scared, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. There’s no rush. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

He looks at you for a long while—recognizes only some of your features in the dark—and so do you whilst he lulls you into a state of serenity by humming a song his mother sang to him during those summer days, by petting your head ever so fondly. He never realized how broken his inner child truly was until you kiss his tears away—see them, alas—and the boy inside him leaps into the sun-breathed air of the past. Grows into a young man with a dream in his heart and pensive thoughts beneath the thick set of black hair. Transforms into an adult man with love for a dream instead, for all that has become of his ambitions is the desire to be loved, to be wanted.

Dream or desire, none of it matters now because all of it, in a strange way that heals him, intermingles with each exhale of your breath against his cheek—and with the inch you think you’re ready to take—all of it is fulfilled.

A dream come true. A desire gratified.

You’re his and he is yours. And he tells you.

You kiss him everywhere. Nose, cheeks, neck. Grab his bunny plushie and tuck him into the crook of his elbow. Jungkook holds onto him as you take another inch, other hand holding his shaft as you sink down little by little, stopping whenever it gets too much.

“You’ve always taken it so well,” he murmurs onto your pained expression, unable to take his eyes off of you. “I was made for you. It’s yours, baby. It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”

You clench at his words and the noise that you squeak makes him grunt onto your lips.

“That’s right, baby. I’m so proud of you for trying to take me so well like this when your little pussy is so sensitive from my tongue. You deserve to be rewarded, don’t you?”

The smile blossoming on your mouth is dangerous with its coyness but confidence at the same time. He falls in love with you all over again, feels the tall grass of his childhood bending over his head, sifting through his hair.

“I’m doing it for you,” you say. “I want to make you feel good.”

A hum of appreciation. A kiss full of tongue. “Throw your hips back a little. Just like when we dance.”

He’s not fully sheathed inside of you, but he feels your gummy walls smothering the half of his length and it’s enough. He doesn’t want to hurt you by filling you to the brim—he’s heedful even as he guides your hips with his hands, rolling them back as if you were grinding against him. Both of you danced like that many times before and because you know the move, you’re comfortable once you latch onto his hands and lift them, intertwining your fingers with his, pinning them down onto the mattress. Your hips gain speed, bouncing on him as your chest lifts a little, hovers above him and the bunny in the middle of his stomach, and Jungkook doesn’t let himself feel pleasure until your eyes lid and turn to the ceiling.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. You’re a fucking”—Jungkook whines at the impact of a distinct hard slam of your hips down on his—“pro. My little fucking pro. Doing so good for me.”

He’s losing it and it’s so quick. The change of energy in the room, the arousal rising like fine dust in the air. All because his words nourished you with confidence that blazes the atmosphere around the bed. It’s just you, him and bunny in this microcosm and Jungkook longs to hold onto the plushie. Feels so much like you when he’s the one in control; feels as though you’ve become one in this emotionally charged act. He can’t differentiate between himself and you anymore.

He’s simply become you because he loves you. Or has been you the whole time due to that very fact. Perhaps loving someone truly means becoming them because what you learn from them, what you mimic from them is perpetually yours.

An awareness of how tired you must be drifts across his mind. He knows that with each excellent performance comes the burning of the muscles so without thinking twice, he maneuvers you to his favorite position—remaining on his lap with your back against his chest and bunny stacked on top of you. He takes the lead but lets you decide the pace. You’re the boss. “Fast or slow?”

“Fast.”

Jungkook hums, raising a brow. “Fast? Cunnie isn’t sensitive anymore?”

You shake your head ‘no’, propping an arm behind his neck. “I want it fast.”

It’s simultaneous—the deed of two hands, yours and his, grabbing a hold of the fluffy belly of the plushie, fingers traveling and interlocking without a thought, without a direction, and yet meeting. Like two shooting stars. Like the ones you wear under your bottom lashes.

One person. One mind, one heart.

Jungkook taps your belly button with the tip of his cock. You laugh softly. He remembers how wide your eyes were in fear when you sat upright on his lower stomach and could clearly see how far he reached inside of you.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He sinks his length into your warmth. The grass, the caress of the summer wind. You’re the personification of his childhood and Jungkook kisses you hard, tells you of it by the press of his lips on yours. Is ruthless as he ruts into you. His free hand clutches the vibrator and finds your clit under the small dangling legs of bunny. The low intensity is but a thrum, though by the gasps you emit, by the moans that rise in echoes within the atmosphere, he deduces it’s good.

Smugness returns, hand in hand with his control. He presses the toy harder against you, rubbing it side to side—and this time he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t stop fucking you.

Vigorous with strength, empowered by the free rein of his emotions that were accepted and loved, he pistons his hard cock into that tightness of yours, regardless whether you can handle it or not. Feels right at home, feels—

“Who’s your Daddy?” he questions without slowing down the rhythm of his brutal pace. “Who’s fucking you this good?”

You hum, licking your lips, and your confidence fucks with him, strips him bare of any sanity he had left. You give him the eyes, flick your tongue against his lips before you tilt your head to kiss him with a brief passion. “You are.”

Butterflies.

Jungkook drops the vibrator on the bed. Has to touch you, has to grip you—and he does. His hand finds your throat and he squeezes, kissing you with the same passion, prolonging it because what you did wasn’t fair. He needs the passion; he needs to swallow it down and feel it course down his body. And when you give him just that, along with your luscious moans, he rewards you.

Gives you all of his cock.

He rams himself into you, balls deep. Repeats it over and over, each thrust harder than the one before. Watches your irises disappear from your eyes, mouth agape, voice gone. Jungkook senses you’re leaving planet Earth again and he stops you.

“Is this Daddy of yours your boyfriend now?”

Like a bell, his heart is clanging and the freedom in that sentence losing its principle of ever being a risk causes his eyes to fill with tears again. He’s a mess. His emotions are a mess. But he’s so happy.

And the smile you give him due to that question—it charges him with the longing power to own it, own you, so he grabs you everywhere. Your chin, your cheeks, your mouth, and you never stop smiling, not even when you say, “he is my boyfriend now, you got a problem with that?”

The chuckle that rumbles out of his chest is a surprise to him because dizziness takes a hold of his entire being. He’s gone—he’s about to die. This is it.

He kisses you and the act of your lips wrapping around his makes this so much more real. He squeezes you and bunny in his arms, hips grinding his circles now. “Does it hurt when I’m this deep?” he murmurs.

“No, feels good.”

“Let me know if it starts hurting, alright?”

You nod, pecking him, gripping his hair.

Jungkook lets go of your hand and slowly lifts you up and down on the hardness of his cock from behind. You’re so light in his hands, like a little angel assigned to his side, just his to play with. You tip your head back, the smile of yours having bloomed into a full grin. Jungkook watches you in awe.

“Look at you riding me. You don’t need any help.”

You giggle. Jungkook feels his cheeks fire up. Thinks the sound is angelic, it must be. Thinks the squelch of your pussy taking him, leaving him dewy, is angelic, too.

It makes him stop playing with you and fuck you properly instead.

He sits up. Angles your head so your lips touch his, but he doesn’t kiss you. He wants you there so you swallow all of the words that will come off his tongue, so you remember them even when the delirium wears off.

He pounds into you.

You’re no longer smiling.

Takes the vibrator again. Provokes you, just because he can’t help it, by turning up the intensity and letting it only float above your clit, never letting it touch you. He’s not fast as he fucks you. On the contrary, his thrusts are hard.

Merciless.

He feels evil when he removes the toy completely, makes sure you watch, and presses it down into the softness between bunny’s legs. He turns your head back to face him and he mimics your moans, scrunches his features in pleasure, giving life to the plushie—acting for her.

But his meanness makes you come and you fall apart in his hands. He feels bad, terribly bad for you, and the feeling begins to consume his insides—so much that he gives you the pleasure he denied you mid climax. He presses the toy against your clit and—

You’re gone.

Your stream of pleasure forces him out of you and it makes him moan loudly. It makes him moan when he rubs the vibrator all over your absolutely drenched cunt and you just keep coming. And it makes him moan when you beg him to keep fucking you.

Who is he to say no to you?

“You just want it bad, don’t you?”

You nod against his head. Gone, gone, gone. He follows you into that rabbit hole, pounding you rough and fast this time, keeping you caged against him, fingers back in an intricate interlock. You smother him with your femininity and Jungkook is perpetually at wonder how you manage to do that, how you manage to never have enough. It makes him lose his fucking mind, lose everything—lose his identity. He just blurs into you. The stars in his chest pour like liquid into your ribcage. He feels them quivering when he touches your breasts all over. Wonders if you’ll come again for him.

“Pussy molded just for me, hm, isn’t it?” he breathes. Hot, sweaty, on the brink of insanity. White flashes. Balls tight. Dizziness stealing his senses. “Good little pussy, always wanting more.”

The air grows dense.

“Mine,” he growls, voice strained—so close, so fucking close. “My pussy. Mine to fuck. Mine to eat. Mine to love—”

His gut tenses. Flames burn it hot. Time stops. Knuckles turn ivory in the feverish grip of your fingers upon bunny’s tummy; your walls, too, splattered in magnificent white. Jungkook fucks his cum into you, once, twice, for the last time—pumping you full. Giving you all that he has.

He falls limp against his pillows. The toy buzzes on upon the comforter, long abandoned.

His exhaustion doesn’t let him open his eyes. Not when his eyes sting with tears once more, not even when your warmth leaves his manhood. He knows you didn’t come this time around, however he doesn’t have the strength to fix it. His vigor oozed out of him and nestled within you—like his control, like his love, like his cum.

He will make it up to you tomorrow morning.

Now he needs sleep. He needs the tears to halt their hurting by leaking out of the inner corners of his eyes. Would prefer if you weren’t the witness to it because with his vigor departing, his vulnerability heightened. He’s ashamed of the sea of his feelings, but there’s nothing he can do to change that. He just loves you.

He’s so happy that he’s yours and he fucked you so good and—

“You tired, baby?”

You sound just like him.

Jungkook suppresses his sob, swallows it right down.

“I’m spent.” Too emotional. “Too spent to wash up.”

He feels a kiss on his nose, the comforter lifting, small warm hands on his body as he’s being tucked into his bed. Jungkook lies on his side. Feels too lonely. As if you had insight into his soul, you settle into the spaces of his form that you know are there for you to hide in.

With a barrier in between.

You push bunny’s back against his chest. Click the lamp off.

In the darkness, Jungkook allows his lungs to expand in their silent weeping. Finds bunny, finds your arm. Moves you closer until the plushie serves like a heart in the middle of your bodies. Fingers petting your hair, he allows another thing—

“I love you.”

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

2K notes · View notes

chaosandwolves · 1 year

Text

So uhm I saw this post by @poughkeepsies and started writing about it to @shortsighted-owl and suddenly this whole thing was written and I thought I'd share it with you

Thank you to @spookylexicon for helping me to make sure to use the right Spanish endearments here

6x14 coda, 1,2 k words, coming out, read on AO3

The colors of my heart

"Eddito you're not even trying, are you?"

"I'm sorry Pepa. I didn't want to disappoint you. It's just..."

"Did you not like her?"

"No, no she was great. Just like the others... I just,"

"Come on. Spit it out, what's going on."

Eddie, absolutely exhausted, swipes a hand over his face and falls into the chair next to Pepa.

His face is slightly crunched up as if he's not sure where to take the words from for what he's about to say. "I, uhm...."

He looks at his hands and forces himself to let go of the tension so that his fists fall open.

He wiggles his fingers a few times and says, "I'm... There is... I mean…"

It's really so ridiculous. It's not like he's seven and telling his father that he wants to marry his best friend and being chided for even thinking such things.

It's not like he's 15 and trying his hardest to fall for a girl, any girl, while his eyes keep wandering back to wherever Miles is.

It's not like he's 23 and in the army where some of the men get comfortable with each other, "to release some stress" and Eddie is terrified of what stirs in his chest.

He's here at his Tia's who has always loved and supported him and he knows she won't judge. Yet the words won't even form in his mind, let alone shape on his tongue.

He almost flinches when suddenly Pepa's hand is covering his. "Eddie, you know you can tell me everything, right?"

Eddie blinks a few times and realizes that his vision is blurry. He clears his throat and sits up, still not looking at his aunt. "Yeah. Yeah of course."

For a moment the silence seeps into every cell of him and it makes him twitchy and uncomfortable. It's not how he imagined this. Hell, he hadn't imagined it at all to be honest. So far he only had made careful remarks in therapy and Frank had been gracious enough to signal that he's open to talk about it but didn't push Eddie.

He hasn't talked with anyone about it. Most of the time his own thoughts are only vaguely shimmering in his mind and the only person he actually wants to talk to about it.... Well... That's just complicated, ok?

"Are you... I mean, is there someone else?" Pepa suddenly asks him, her hand still on Eddie's and talking in this soft voice as if she's talking to Chris who's upset about something.

Eddie doesn't know where he takes the courage from but he nods, "Yeah."

And even just admitting this bit out loud has such an impact on Eddie's body that he shudders. A nervous yet warm feeling spreads from his chest and dances over his skin in soft tingles.

Pepa leans back, still not letting go of Eddie's hand and he can hear the smile in her voice, "Ah. I see."

"Yeah," Eddie repeats again, not knowing how to expand on it.

He can feel Pepa's gaze on him. And he wants to be confident about it, he wants to hold his head up high and puff out his chest and say the words cause he's not ashamed. He isn't. There had been a time where he was. After he had been taught that it's something to feel ashamed about.

And repressing it had worked for a long time. But when he told his father months ago that he wants to get better for himself, Eddie already knew that unpacking this particular shame would be a big part of it. He may not be able to be proud of it just yet but he's not ashamed and he's made his peace with it a while ago even though he hasn't said any of it out loud yet.

In a moment of courage he glances over at Pepa whose eyes are still on him, her expression soft and carefully attentive.

He opens his mouth and almost blurts it out but a car honks nearby and Eddie loses his momentum.

He averts his eyes and looks out over the front porch.

Pepa squeezes his hand lightly and asks, "Do they deserve your love?" And Eddie swallows, very aware of how open, how gender neutral, this question is.

But he nods immediately, not even having to think about the answer for a second.

"Good," Pepa says.

A few seconds pass and Eddie knows it's his turn now.

Pepa has reached out to him as far as she dared, nudged him without pushing him and has handed the reins over to him.

The nervousness prickles under his skin and suddenly he can't bear to not move anymore. He shoots up to his feet but is so surprised by his own action that he doesn't know what to do next.

In an attempt to ground himself and find his footing again, he drives his hands through his hair and lets out a long breath. For a second he contemplates running but instead of moving forward his body turns and he looks right into Pepa's eyes.

"I'm," the word is already formed in his mouth and he can taste it on his tongue but somehow it refuses to be released into the open.

Pepa holds his gaze and slowly stands up. She takes a step towards Eddie, reaches out and curls her slim fingers around his biceps. "Eddito. You don't have to,"

And suddenly, without his doing, the word explodes out of him, "Gay. I'm.. I'm gay and Buck.. It's.. I.. Buck."

Eddie freezes as he hears the words leaving his mouth and his eyes go wide in shock. The following seconds stretch and stretch and Eddie feels like if he moves now the air around him will shatter. He's already bracing himself for the loud 'boom' of an explosion, for the irritating crunch of glass under his boots. But instead of being thrown back against the wall by the shockwave, he's gently pulled forward. "Oh Eddito, come here," he hears Pepa saying while her arms wrap around him. It takes him a solid five seconds to shake off the shock and then he can't hold himself back and he squeezes Pepa against his chest.

He has no idea how long they stand there holding each other. But when Pepa pulls back his heart feels just that little less sore around the edges.

Pepa doesn't let go of him, instead grabs him by his arm again and cups his cheek with the other hand. "I am so proud of you cariño." And Eddie doesn't even try to blink back the tears that are rapidly welling up in his eyes. For a few more heartbeats they just look and smile at each other before Pepa hugs him again, shorter this time.

When she takes a step back a somewhat mischievous grin brightens her face. "So, Buck?"

Eddie laughs. Pepa nods, "I can see that. He's a good one."

"Yeah, he is," Eddie agrees.

Pepa pets his cheek and lets out a breath. "Ok. Let's go inside. It's time to make dinner and I can teach you a secret family recipe you can make for your Buck that'll make him fall in love with you." She winks at him and Eddie groans, "Tia. No." But he follows behind her with his head held high, his chest puffed out and a faint sense of pride pulsing in his chest.

#Buddie #Buddie fic #eddie diaz #tia pepa #Coming out #6x14 coda #6x14 spec #911 on fox #Fanfic #happy wee woo day #Chaos writes #Chaos' fics #Chaos writes fanfic #Chaos' Buddie fics

117 notes · View notes

caspertheloudassghost · 3 months

Text

Scum villain crack fic idea:

One or more of the peak lords switch places in time with their younger selves for like a week and basically decides to spend that time gossiping. “It’s so nice to be able to not hear Shen-Shixiong and his husbands causing another scandal” “An Ding is so much warmer without the King of the North in semi-permanent residence” “Have you heard of ‘The resentment of Chunshan?’”

This person just keeps dropping multiple bombshells and is low key revealing in the chaos. The current head disciples and previous peak lords are loosing their shit at the idea that not only is TLJ roaming free, the demon realm is united, HHP is run by a half demon, etc, but also that, at minimum two peak lords are married to demon royalty.

For comedic purposes I propose that this au includes as many peak lords as possible in some sort of human-demon relationship.

Minds are blown with the mention of SQH being both the King of the North’s Consort, but also advisor to the demon emperor.

SQQ the leacher is in a committed gay relationship with two men? With his Disciple?? Who is said Current Demonic Emperor?! And LIU QINGGE?!

Tianlang-jun and YQY’s relationship is like two divorcees who bond over missing their spouses. Do Not Separate that is his emotional support demon/peak lord.

QQQ and SHL become gossip buddies after she marries LMY.

MQF the doctor meets the ultimate snakeboy (anti venom!) who is Also part Heavenly Demon (ultimate cure all!!!!)(on Qiong Ding with his uncle) and decides he’s keeping him. A relationship originating from medical researcher & subject of research becomes an extremely close friendship. They are very done with everyone’s nonsense.

WQW and Six Balls are engaged.

#svsss #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #moshang #bingqiu #bingliushen #tianyue #luo binghe #mobei jun #tianlang jun #yue qingyuan #mu qingfang #zzl #zhuzhi lang #sha hualing #liu mingyan #mingling

699 notes · View notes

justalildumpling · 8 days

Text

the aftermath (of champagne & tequila)

synopsis: so maybe those few glasses of champagne and tequila wasn’t your smartest choice of beverages at your high school reunion. but how were you supposed to know that running into your childhood crushes absolutely wasted would have you dealing with the aftermath of making out with not one, but both within the same hour?

pairing: haechan x fem! reader & mark x fem! reader genre: love triangle, childhood crushes au, college au, fluff, humor word count: 7.4k warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of alcohol, vaping, weed, jokes about death and just a 'hol lot of y/n being a dumb drunk

note: there’s really no plot to this, just pure thirst and chaos but then again, isn’t that all my fics ever🙃 (and god forbid any of my irls see this bc they'll know exactly who everyone is based off of💀)

[ playlist: all my friends - snakehips / feels - calvin harris / pretty please - dua lip / one kiss - dua lipa / leave the door open - bruno mars / nasty - ariana grande / streets - doja cat ]

IN YOUR DEFENCE, you weren’t planning on getting this drunk.

In fact, you remembered reassuring your group of friends about this the day before, emphasising your astounding hatred towards the very limited selection of the free alcoholic beverages available at the bar (namely, beer and wine).

Further backing up your case, you had initially turned up to your high school reunion an hour late with the lazy excuse of your last-minute decisions towards your outfit that day – which, considering your turbulent meltdowns about having no clothes at two in the morning, was a complete fucking lie – only covering up your actual reasonings of not wanting to face your high school year group.

You didn’t exactly have any particular reasons to avoid anyone – a matter of fact, you liked to think you got along with everyone back in the day, often bouncing around from friend group to friend group with shiny eyes, inviting smiles and friendly banter – but there was something about reuniting your cohort again after a year which felt awkward.

There was no doubt that everyone would have changed in some way shape or form.

Heck, you were a completely different person from when they last saw you in the body of that wide-eyed girl in the crisp white blouse with the conservative knee-length pleated skirt. Plus, judging by the daily scroll of your Instagram feed, many of your peers seemed to don an altered version of their high school selves as well – meaning you had to get to know everyone all over again.

You vaguely remember turning up at the congested bar next to your high school building. The entrance was decorated with popped bottles of champagne with only a few clean empty glasses left on the display tray. The rest are in the hands of the various levels of tipsy college kids packed together like a can of sardines in front of the bar, eagerly milking out the bar tab set by the committee. Despite your school renting out the entirety of the second floor, it felt a little too tight, almost claustrophobic inside as you discreetly tried to scan the drunken crowd for your usual group of friends. However, your search didn’t last long, resulting in you eventually giving up after a few seconds, opting to ease the mild squeamishness with some liquid courage.

The cheap champagne burned the back of your throat as you settled on painfully chugging the glass in mere seconds, sticking out your tongue in disgust. Regardless of your initial reaction to the first taste, you began lining up for another glass, maybe in hopes of finding your intoxicated friends swimming in the chaos.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Is that you?”

Your ears perked at the familial voice amid of the loud chatter, head whipping towards the warm beam of Huang Renjun – a longtime locker mate/bandmate during school. Crushing you into a tight hug, you momentarily thanked the higher power of the universe for sending at least an old buddy as your first very sober interaction.

Though you and Renjun had never exclusively shared the same social circle, your friendship went way back. It started from being in the school’s so-called “rock” band together to trauma bonding over some unfortunate extension English classes in middle school to being neighbouring lockers for the entirety of high school. You recalled Renjun being a wholesome-looking guy, uniform always neatly tucked in, hair short and well kept, so when you spotted his long bleached hair and a silver ring hanging off the left corner of his lip as you pulled away from his grasp, surprise was an understatement of your reaction.

“You pierced your lip!” you exclaimed, turning your face to various angles around him to have a closer look.

A hearty laugh escaped his lips, throwing his head back as he playfully modelled his new accessory with a childish smile, “I did! Though I would be lying if I said I got this voluntarily.”

You cocked your head at him as the two of you received your preferred beverage from the bar counter, gesturing for him to elaborate. Renjun paused, sipping on the overflowing bubbles of his beer before adding, “I lost a bet with Donghyuck.”

Lee Donghyuck, a name you would say you were well acquainted with. He was a popular figure with the female community of your school for his visuals and many other talents, an eye-catching part of Renjun’s circle and your childhood friend. Well, sort of.

The two of you met in second grade, the joyful period of a child’s life where everyone was automatically considered friends if you shared a class or your mothers exchanged more than two sentences and invited you to their birthday parties. Also meant, playing with the designated child of your mother’s chosen friend of the day until their hour-long conversation was over.

Considering the sheer amount of afternoons spent with Donghyuck throughout your elementary school days running around with his family puppy on the school grounds, you would think that would automatically deem the approval of the “childhood friend” title. But the two of you didn’t really talk outside of your forced interaction nor did you share the same lunchtime activities much to your pathetic heart’s dismay.

It would be a lie if you said you weren’t charmed by the warm scruffiness of the little boy, oftentimes guilty of shamelessly boring holes into the back of his head during class and daydreaming about your futures together instead of listening to your homeroom teacher. You had a feeling your mum knew of your little infatuation towards the boy, often sending you a knowing gaze after your weekly runarounds with him and after the mention of his name in conversation prompting you to believe that her coincidental run-ins with Donghyuck’s mother weren’t so accidental afterall.

Though growing out of your shorts and summer tunic dresses and into your somewhat maturer age of a teenager; the validation of the excuse of your mother’s budding friendship to catch him after school expired alongside the dissipating giddiness you had once held for him. Something you saw coming for a while as you found yourself seeing less of him around which came as no surprise as neither of you shared the same class nor the same friends as you naturally started gravitating to different parts of your enlarging year group.

Finishing off the remainder of your flat champagne, you raised your eyebrows at the boy, “Donghyuck? Haven’t heard that name in a while, how is he?”

Renjun hummed, fingers drumming on the sides of his beer glass, “Why don’t you ask him? He’s here today,” he began standing on the tips of his battered converses, peering around the bar for the boy in question.

You shook your head with a chuckle, “Don’t worry about it. It’s going to be impossible to find him-”

On queue, Renjun hollered Donghyuck’s name at the back corner of the room, waving at a shadowed figure exaggeratedly. You weren’t even sure how he was able to spot him within the chaos so quickly when you were still left in search of your friends. But that wasn’t your biggest problem anymore as you recognised Donghyuck emerging from within the darkness, jokingly shoving past the large group of huddled and what you assumed to be intoxicated boys.

He didn’t look too different from the last time you met, maybe a few centimetres taller, skin sun-kissed from the recent summer weather but holy shit, was he still as hot as ever. If not more.

“Damn Y/N, is that you?”

You were too sober for this. Sure, you had started to feel the buzz peppering various parts of your face; but your emotions, the logical voice in your brain remained intact, with it blaring “DON’T FUCK UP!” in bold capital letters the closer he got.

Shoving your jitters further down your lame excuse of a brain, a playful smile was forced upon your lips, “The one and only.”

Donghyuck grinned, lightly pulling you into a welcoming embrace, catching you off guard, “It’s good to see you again.”

You could tell the alcohol had already hit his systems judging by the uncharacteristically physical greeting and eyes lazily half-lidded as he pulled away from your grasp. “Looks like someone’s had a bit to drink tonight?” you teased, eyeing the lingering closeness between the two of you.

Donghyuck chuckled, softly shaking his head, “I haven’t had too much, maybe a couple of glasses of champagne at school and a few beers here. What about you?”

“Only two glasses of whatever they’re serving at the bar,” you shuddered at the thought, placing your empty glasses down on the side of the countertop.

“So what I’m hearing is that you haven’t had enough yet,” Donghyuck sent a cheeky wink your way, completely forgetting about poor Renjun’s presence in the conversation as he lightly tugged at your sleeves back in front of the bar, ordering your preferred drinks with the bartender. Clinking your topped-up glasses with the boy, you wondered if making conversations with the boy was this easy before. It wasn’t like he was antisocial or judgemental during your high school years, maybe a little arrogant at times which initially caused your group of friends to have a slight dislike towards the boy.

“Y/N no,” you remembered your best friend Ningning immediately shutting down your thoughts followed by the excessive nods of your friends.

The five of you sat on the floor in front of your lockers, the smell of the freshly made fries Minjeong had bought from the deli next door wafting down the corridor as you had your heated discussion for the day. How you ended up on the topic of your resurfacing feelings for Lee Donghyuck was a whole other question of its own. (Ah, you remembered. Minjeong tripped down the stairs as you and Donghyuck exchanged smiles and pleasantries, whilst she panicked about her one fry which flew out of the cardboard box, all you could think about was him)

Ningning scrunched her eyes, lips formed into a sour expression, “He’s just so…”

“Egotistical?” Shuhua offered.

“Short?” Yunjin added, throwing a handful of fries in her mouth.

“Both,” Ningning affirmed. She patted your lap, a thin smile drawn on her face, “You’re too good for him Y/N.”

It was safe to say that the droplet of leaking feelings had shrivelled back up into your heart that day, both due to your friend’s confronting opinions towards the boy and the unapproachable aura he exuded. (Ok, maybe you admired his golden face from across the room from time to time but who could blame you? It wasn’t your fault his stupidly good looks started appearing at every extracurricular activity you signed up for that term)

A full glass’ worth of conversation passed at this point, and the both of you head deep into your storytelling of your crazy nights out. Bursts of booming laughter thundered as he described canon bombing into his university’s questionable lake and audible gasps sounded as you described your New Year's celebrations earlier that year. Maybe you were wrong about your skepticisms towards the boy during your schooling years, blaming your tendency to catastrophize any minor inconvenience to blow his inherent “unattainableness” out of proportion.

Pulling your phone out of your handbag to check the time, you were greeted with several missed calls and spammed messages from your friends, slapping you back to your original goal in mind.

“Everything alright?” Donghyuck’s face appeared beside your phone screen, eyes concentrated on your sudden change of expression.

“Uh-” you began typing your response to your group chat, reassuring them of your whereabouts in the heavily packed venue, ”-yeah. Yeah, sorry,” you clicked your phone shut, stuffing it back into your purse before facing him again, “Just reassuring a panicked group chat.”

He laughed, dipping his head in understanding, “I’m guessing I’ll have to let you go?”

You shrugged, offering him a small pout, “Unfortunately but hey, take a shot with me later?”

A soft smile littered Donghyuck’s face, hands squeezing the tops of your shoulders.

“Bet, I’ll come find you.”

NOTE TO SELF: Don’t go into the female restrooms during a big event in a relatively logical state of mind.

The girls' restrooms were a lively place for the residents of your school, always scented with the popular fumes of grape ice and strawberry watermelon vape, the tile floors littered with abandoned pairs of laddered stockings in the winter and forgotten multicoloured hydro-flasks perched on the benches. With quite the vaping addiction of your school, it was always a fun game of guess who when you took the trip to the restrooms during class, which clique was occupying the stalls together, which flavour they were attempting that day or what piece of drama you were going to be handed.

You realised that not much had changed when you found your friends huddling with quite the assortment of other girls in your year group in the bar restroom. The air was concocted with the nostalgic smell of blue raspberry vape and Maison Margiela, accompanied by loud loving gossip in the unoccupied stalls and the occasional drunken mirror selfies in front of the basin.

“Oh my gosh Y/N! You’re alive!” Ningning screeched, glomping you into a tight hug, “I was about to get up on the tables to find you out there.”

“Sorry, I missed your calls,” you wheezed as Minjeong came over to peel the girl off of your body, “I didn’t realise my phone was on silent.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Shuhua slurred attaching herself to Minjeong’s side, “You must’ve been bouncing around like you usually do, judging by how long it took you to find us.”

“Yeah,” – if bouncing around meant from one drink to another with the same person – “You could say that.”

“Yunjin said hi by the way,” Minjeong interrupted, pulling up a photo of your absent friend striking a cute pose in front of a sushi train in Hawaii, “She said to drink on her behalf, which I don’t think is the best idea.”

“That girl’s probably drunk right now,” Ningning snickered, turning to face the large mirror to reapply her lip gloss, “But I’ll take any excuse to drink more.”

Minjeong raised an eyebrow at the girl, “Didn’t you say that you were saving your liver for next weekend?”

Ningning merely shrugged, waving her off before grabbing ahold of your hand with an animated wiggle, squabbling about something along the lines of you looking too sober. You ran into many old faces on the short journey to the bar front, hearty laughter and juicy gossip unconsciously spilled and overheard from the neighbouring conversations (Though whether it was true or not, you weren’t sure, but considering the topics of accidental pregnancies and very messy breakups – maybe it would be best to wish for the latter)

You were on your fourth glass of champagne at this point, something you couldn’t understand as every sip you took attempted to change your mind; it really just tasted the same – like fucking ass. The state of yourself on the other hand arguably has made some progress, to your best friend’s delight. You had joined in on Ningning’s nonsensical babbling a half glass ago, nodding along to whatever came out of her mouth with a small giggle tickling up your throat. She leaned into your ear, slurring some muddled sentence that was drowned out by the screaming lyrics of ABBA. A nod came as a reflex for you, a dazed smile tugging at your lips.

She gave you a little squeeze on your shoulders, shuffling past a sea of people and to the other end of the room. The world seemed to move faster than what your brain could handle at that given moment, only registering the disappearance of your friend as well as the foreign group of kids gathered around you a few minutes later.

There you were, at square one once again, like a clueless fish stuck between the school of other wandering creatures. Except, replace the ocean with flat champagne and cheap house beer.

With an exasperated sigh, you took a step back from the chattering circle, but what you thought was an empty space was in fact a person. A person with a full glass of beer – well, half full after you knocked into it.

“Shit- Fuck- I’m so sorry, is your drink o…kay?” Your words trailed off as you came face to face with your ex-best friend Mark Lee.

Ah yes. Mark Lee and Y/N L/N, quite the known duo during your middle school days. Inseparable, protective and unanimously voted as most probably secretly dating or housing feelings for each other – which to be fair, wasn’t exactly false.

Your rather complicated feelings for the boy began in fifth grade when the boy slipped you a silly doodle of a duck in a top hat during math class. The two of you were seated a table apart from each other with your respective seatmates so you weren’t too sure of why he specifically chose you to gift his work of art but regardless, you giggled, pencilling in the words “Taffy the Duck” on the top of the page to pass back to him. Your little note passings continued throughout the rest of elementary school, leading to middle school where in your despair realised that you shared zero classes with the boy. Despite this, your friendship stood as strong as ever, hanging out during lunchtimes and visiting the local 7/11 after school until well – it wasn’t.

There was no pivotal moment when you stopped being as close as you were; in fact, it was a question that remained frustratingly unanswered throughout the years. It wasn’t like the two of you ever argued or had a major fallout – which could’ve given you a proper reason to either make up or talk to him again – but rather be described as a painstakingly slow drift, enough to the point where it was unnoticeable. Maybe it started with the branching of different friend groups then led to your attention on your respective crushes at the time – which now that you recollected on your past, think that your hidden feelings for each other at the time were the only thing holding you together.

Sure, you had attempted to revive your friendship at times, starting with the ever-so-awkward first hellos in the stairwell to a couple of sentences exchanged before classes started in your final year, but all efforts seem to have unravelled as you graduated from school and went on your separate ways, until today.

“Oh hey, Y/N?”

You handed him a napkin from the bar, “Mark.”

Shaking the excess residue off of his hand, he mumbled a quiet thanks as he took the napkin from you. You wanted to die, really. As a matter of fact, you were convinced that it would be a much more pleasant experience than silently standing like some dumb wooden doll in front of your ex-best friend, as he cleaned up after your mess.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “It’s been a while huh?”

You gulped down the last sip of your drink, feeling the burn of the champagne trickling down your oesophagus, “Yeah, I mean the last time we talked was, one and half years ago?” – Technically, it was his birthday a little less than a year ago when the two of you last exchanged messages. It entailed your short greeting of “happy b’day mark!” and the equally blunt response of “haha thanks y/n”. However according to the Cambridge dictionary, a conversation is defined as a discussion about a particular subject and well, nothing was discussed.

“Well, how have you been? Your brother doing well?” Mark passed his fingers through his dark locks, turning his full attention to you.

You were surprised he remembered your brother, with him starting school not long before you guys stopped being friends, “He’s doing well, grown up a lot since you last saw him,” you snorted, remembering his little presence trailing behind the two of you after school, begging for you to buy him Mcdonald's fries, “How about you? You attend NCIT right?”

“Yep, studying Business,” he rolled his eyes, “Quite the regretful choice. How about you?”

“Communications at Yonsei,” you responded, “Though, I did originally transfer from Business, due to as you said. Quite the experience.”

Mark chuckled knowingly, raising his glass to take a sip of his remaining drink, “It suits you. Communications that is.”

“What? Because I’m loud?” you joked.

He shook his head, “You always had great ideas, people always looked to you for advice.”

A warm smile made its way onto your face. It was a reassuring phrase to hear, short but impactful nonetheless. Especially as you struggled to figure out your path after school, switching from one faculty to another in hopes of finding the one that didn’t make you want to throw yourself off a cliff side. Communications was a spontaneous jump but it was the only choice that made you confident in your abilities so hearing this sort of external validation felt nice, especially from him.

Mark returned the gesture, eyes crinkling into the tender crescent shape. Despite the maturing of his facial structure, he still housed the same childlike smile. The one which stretched to the outskirts of his cheeks, softening his overall cold exterior. The one that made you fall for him in the first place.

“How come I didn’t catch you at school earlier?”

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, “O-Oh, I turned up pretty late so I missed out on the terrace drinks.”

“That makes more sense,” Mark hummed in affirmation, eyeing you up and down, “I feel like I definitely would’ve noticed you if you were there.”

What.

“Tequila shot?” he offered.

You bat an eye, “Uh, sure.”

YOU SEE, you were an affectionate drunk – most often seen clinging onto your friends’ bodies for dear life or littering kisses on their cheeks towards the peak of your night outs. You concluded your drastic personality change was due to the massive confidence boost and the silencing of the practical parts of your brain, meaning that your already concerning amount of extrovertedness maxed the scale.

Before that evening, this quirky little trait of yours never caused you harm, only resulting in the multitude of ‘friends’ being made in the club’s restroom line or several new followers on Instagram the morning after – half of which you barely remember the existence of.

It was barely eleven when Donghyuck snatched you away from your friends, keeping what you thought to be an empty promise of taking a shot with you. Although you were the one originally suggesting your actions, you won’t lie that you held low expectations for him to follow through – most definitely considering his current state of mind.

Clinking your shot glasses together, you downed the liquor in mere seconds, followed by the soothing taste of the lime, melting away the burn that chased up your throat. An electrified laugh sounded from your left as the familial chords of Bruno Mars blasted through the speakers. Donghyuck held no hesitation to grab your hands, dragging you to the front of the speakers as he playfully serenaded you throughout the way.

You could only shyly giggle as he twirled you around the circling crowd, blatantly avoiding his grand gestures for you to sing along. But your resistance didn’t last long as the chorus hit, finding yourself swaying to the beat of the music, accepting the enclosing distance between your bodies. You peered up to meet his eyes, still filled with the childlike wonder and life from the early days of your friendship to the sharp slope of his nose to his scattered moles down to his supple lips.

“You know Hyuck, you’re really hot.”

A satisfied grin laced Donghyuck’s lips, “Am I now?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You weren’t exactly sure what initially prompted you to blurt your relatively forward words to the unsuspecting boy. Maybe it was the lingering fresh taste of the lime on your tongue. Maybe it was the way he swiped his tongue against his bottom lip to soak up any last droplets of the liquor or simply because you just wanted to. Either way, what you didn’t expect was for a smirk to tug against Donghyuck’s lips, stepping closer to your body, eyes flickering to your lips as a finger grazed the underside of your chin. He momentarily wavered a couple centimetres away from your lips, warm breath fanning against your face before his lips met yours.

The once horridly ear-deafening music of the room with the bubbling chatters of your cohort seemed to fade into the background as the ghost of Donghyuck’s hands skimmed the bare parts of your waist. His tousled curls tickled the sides of your cheeks as he nipped at your jawline, pinning your body firmer against the wall.

“God forbid if our mothers saw us right now,” you let out a slight gasp as he kissed the sensitive part of your neck.

“Well, good thing our mothers aren’t here to see us, right?” a low chuckle rumbled from his throat before reconnecting your lips again, his tongue fighting for its place in your mouth. Your fingers gripped at the back of his head, tugging at the strands to elicit a staggered moan from the boy, filling your chest with a weird sense of pride and definitely not helping your already inflated ego.

You could conclude you had certainly passed your tipsy stage, with the last shot of tequila seeping into your system and pushing your brain’s irrationality almost a bit too far. You remembered once hearing your tenth-grade biology teacher talk about the effects of alcohol on the human body and how it altered your brain’s chemical composition. Specifically, how it lowered an individual’s inhibitions and social rationalisation.

And considering your ongoing messy but undeniably hot lip-locking with Lee Donghyuck, you began regretting zoning off in the latter part of that science lesson (not really. You did manage to beat your personal record in 2048) where she had subsequently explained how to piece together the drunken jumble in your brain as the following few words which tumbled out of your mouth, you would inevitably regret.

“Wait, I need to pee.”

YOU HAD TO ADMIT. It was quite scary the amount of things you managed to figure out about yourself whilst severely intoxicated.

One, you really couldn’t hold your bladder. Evident by the frequent trips to the restroom every thirty minutes or the number of times you had bumped into the same group of girls gathered outside the basins, offering you a hit of their neon-coloured vape and a piece of their drunken secrets.

Two, realising the sheer amount of time and money wasted spent trying to figure yourself out during your high school years as the one night of limitless alcoholic beverages seemed to be a confronting personality test in itself.

Three, the emotions you spent years persuading to simmer down in your heart were capable of rapidly firing out in mere seconds alongside the memory bank of shitty pick-up lines and your apparent drunken rizz that went through the roof.

Four, maybe your best friend’s words of you supposedly being in your “hoe phase” were really true because at that moment, you really, really wanted to kiss someone – more specifically, Mark Lee.

It wasn't exactly the best course of action, considering your heated make-out session with Donghyuck not too long before – which you left halfway through, might you add. But wise decisions weren’t things you were great at making. Especially a few too many glasses of champagne and spirits deep.

According to your very skewed sense of time, it was around midnight when you stumbled into Mark once again, this time hidden within the shadows behind a pillar in the corner with another drink in his hand. Not many people lingered around this part of the room. You guessed it was due to the immobile bodies sprawled across the dingy carpet a few metres in front and a frustrating lack of both music and alcohol. With a light trip in your step, you made your way towards the boy.

“Oh my gosh Mark! What are you doing here?”

A concerned grimace appeared upon Mark’s lips, prompting him to place his drink on the carpeted floor to steady your rocking body. The room had begun spinning at this point in time, with Mark’s face distorting ever so slightly to your hilarity.

A giggle bubbled up your throat, followed by your hands which gravitated towards the poor boy’s face, poking various parts of his features in such fascination. Mark could only sigh, registering his sheer lack of control in the situation, as he sat you on the plastic chair.

A wave of peace washed over your bodies for a few minutes, with Mark quietly sipping on the remainder of his drink whilst you traced your fingers across his jawline. Though much to his despair, the calm before the storm barely lasted three minutes as your loud ass mouth began itching to dominate your brain.

“Mark, has anyone ever told you how fucking hilarious you are?”

Mark deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest, “I haven’t said anything.”

“SEE?!” You bounced out of your seat, “A fucking knee slapper that one!”

Another sigh escaped his lips, getting ahold of your shoulders again to place you back down, “Y/N, how did you manage to even get like this?”

“You know Donghae? Haechang? Whatever his name is-”

“Donghyuck.” Mark corrected, eyebrows furrowing at the mention of his name, “What did that overgrown cabbage patch kid do to you?”

“Relax, he just bought me a shot…” You drew out your words before pouting, “Or two, and maybe a couple drinks before that.”

Mark shook his head, patting your head, “I’m gonna get you some water.”

“Nooo! Don’t go, you’re so sexy!” You latched yourself onto his waist, fingers twisting around the belt loops of his jeans.

You could feel him visibly freeze on the spot, occasionally twitching nervously the closer your hands lingered to his crotch. You staggered up from your seat again, hands grazing his torso to wrap around his neck. Despite only a part of his face being illuminated by the light behind the pillar, it was enough to make out his parted lips and widened eyes.

Just like Hyuck, you realised how much Mark had grown into his mature face over the years. His cheekbones were more prominent, and his hair styled with the hard gel he refused to use in middle school. You reached to pass a stray strand across his forehead, though your eyes never left his and your lips inching closer towards his.

“You’re drunk, Y/N.”

You shrugged, eyes flickering down to his lips, “I wasn’t drunk when I wanted to kiss you.”

“And when was that?”

“Middle school, high school,” You paused, pondering for a second, “After graduation.”

A moment of shock flashed across the boy’s face, lips partly ajar and what seemed like a rollercoaster of emotions tumbling within his eyes. You had always questioned what his response would’ve been to a potential confession back in the day; maybe he would’ve reciprocated your drawn-out feelings and lived as a happy couple to this day, or if you wanted to be pessimistic, suffered the horrors of a toxic middle school relationship and be forever traumatised by love for the rest of your life; or maybe he would’ve rejected your feelings and just remained as an awkward pair of “besties”.

There was a little voice shrieking from the depths of your brain to shut the fuck up, most probably belonging to your sober self trying to save your face. However, it seemed as though the mystery to your decades-long question would be answered that night as Mark chuckled, clearing his throat.

"Middle school me would've gone crazy hearing this."

You knew you were definitely wasted at that moment, his words of reciprocation to your elementary school feelings flying over your head and rather hyperfocused on the warmth of his embrace and the subtle gulp of nervousness he took.

"What about present-day Mark?” You murmured, your breath hitting his lips, “Is this making him crazy too?"

"Absolutely insane."

You were reminded of your friends’ comments on your drunken rizz, with apparently any form of embarrassment and dignity thrown into the gutter to crash and burn. With the amount of unknown dms you had woken up to the morning after drinking, you’d think you would’ve learnt your lesson by now – but your drunken alter ego was a stubborn bitch.

A bitch who definitely needed some kind of therapy.

As Mark smashed his lips onto yours, it was then you were hit by your mother’s words about drinking responsibly. Obviously, to avoid alcohol poisoning, potentially blacking out and passing out on the side of the road, but most importantly, to avoid involving yourself in sticky situations in which your sober self had to deal with the aftermath.

But how were you supposed to anticipate that the aftermath of a fuckload of champagne and tequila shots was going to have you hooking up with your childhood crushes at your school reunion?

Oh, and blackout whilst you were at it.

YOU WEREN’T GOING TO LIE, waking up in the comfort of your sheets came as a surprise for your tired self.

You were quite proud of yourself for making it back in one piece, or even back at home at all and not passing out on the side of the road somewhere, considering the rather large gap in your memory and the fact that you were most definitely still drunk when you woke up.

There was a slight wobble in your step as you made your way over to the kitchen, head pounding and face still numb as you took the first miraculous sip of water. Your phone screen lit up with a bomb of message notifications and Instagram tags from last night, in which you nervously opened your active group chat.

[ yunjin ] did i miss anything?

[ shuhua ] i shit talked about ppl with aeri and somi whilst high

[ ningning ] yk i don’t think i recall parts of last night

[ you ] i mean,, understandable. u were pretty fucked

[ minjeong ] y/n wrestling tongues with donghyuck was the most unexpected for me

[ shuhua ] you what😭

[ you ] we are not mentioning that…

[ ningning ] wait i swear it was mark, was it not?

[ yunjin ] lol plot twist: it was both

[ you ] …

[ minjeong ] YOU MADE OUT WITH BOTH OF THEM!??!?!?!

You chose to shut off your phone at that moment, predicting the bloodbath of capitalised screams and spammed Facetime calls from the group. Which, in all honesty, you severely lacked the willpower to deal with.

A soft shuffle of slippers sounded at the kitchen entrance, and you turned to face your mother. Still in her pink fluffy pyjamas, drowsily waved as she made her way to the fridge, delicately opening the door to grab the milk.

“How was last night?” she asked, making her way to the milk frother.

You hummed, walking to the coffee machine with a mug in hand. “It was…”

An absolute clusterfuck of chaos – would be the correct answer. But telling your mother you had drunkenly made out with the sweet little son of her old friend and the name of a boy she hadn’t heard from for half a decade probably wasn’t the best piece of news to be told first thing in the morning – if at all.

You slipped a capsule into the machine with a crack, half haphazardly pressing buttons on the top before a mellow whir filled the silence, “... Interesting.”

A short chuckle resonated inside the refrigerator door, “What did you do this time?”

You scoffed, offended by the direct jab of her question, “Hey! I don’t always get into trouble!”

“So you didn’t do anything last night?”

You groaned, pouring the foamed milk into the coffee mug, “Well, no…” Dragging on the o, you passed the mug to your mum, huffing as you sat on the countertops, “How can you always tell?”

“I think I’ve heard enough drunken antics from you to know,” she took a sip from her mug, raising her eyebrows at your phone lock screen, “And I think the amount of notifications you’re receiving says a lot too,”

You reached over the end of the countertop, swiping your phone with a roll of your eyes. Your once pretty lock screen of you and your friends had been bombarded by the stacks of message notifications, fulfilling your prediction of incessant exclamation marks and illegible keyboard smashes. However, one contact profile stood out from the rest – that being a concerned Renjun.

[ renjun ] u feeling alright after yesterday?

[ you ] physically, pretty decent. [ you ] mentally, very confused.

[ renjun ] haha fair, u did seem pretty wasted before u left

His message made you pause, attempting to dial back your inefficient memory to when you left the venue.

Did you even see Renjun before you left? Pfft, who were you even kidding – you didn’t even have any recollection of how you got home in the first place.

[ you ] remind me how i got home..? :)))

[ renjun ] … mark left u with minjeong who called u an uber home [ renjun ] god, how much do u remember?

[ you ] … not a lot

[ renjun ] u free wednesday? i think we need a debrief

“IS IT TRUE that you kissed both Mark and Donghyuck at the reunion?”

Now. When you agreed to get a casual drink with Renjun the following Wednesday, you had expected a few questions about your little flings with his friends to come up in conversation. But boy, did you fail to prepare for such bluntness so early on.

“H-how the fuck- did you- know?” Choking on the sharp intake of the unmixed gin at the bottom of your cocktail, the calm approach you had rehearsed on the way over to the bar fell apart as your response came out as a desperate splutter of coughs and stutters.

Renjun threw you a sidelong look, chucking the pathetic remains of the stale popcorn at your figure, which you barely dodged.

“Because those horny fuckboys told me, how else?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, the accentuation of the word fuckboys making you feel rather defensive over your drunken behaviour, “Just for the record, I don’t usually go around sucking faces with every hot guy I see.”

“I never accused you of doing so.”

A smug look settled on Renjun’s face, clearly amused by your unfortunate situation judging by the quirk of his lips as you reached for your drink once again.

“You are insufferable.”

“So-” Renjun dragged on, resting his elbows against the tabletop, “Who was the better kisser, hm?”

The alcoholic concoction got caught in your throat once again, sending both you and your rapidly declining self-preservation into a downward spiral. The straightforwardness of the boy is one of the contributing factors, the rest being the rather vivid flashbacks of your liaisons a few nights prior.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked about this before – in fact, you recalled it being one of the first questions shoved into your face when you picked up your friends’ calls. However, whether you gave them the answers they were desperately seeking for, you weren’t sure because simply. You weren’t exactly certain about how to answer it either.

“I cannot believe that you hooked up with both your childhood crushes and managed to mess up both interactions,” you remembered Shuhua splutter incredulously through your FaceTime call with the approving nods of the rest following shortly after.

“I just- how did you get the courage to pull the two hottest guys in our year whilst being the drunkest you had ever gotten?”

“It was because I was the drunkest I had ever been,” you grumbled in response, rolling your eyes at your screen, “I wouldn’t have otherwise.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t hook up with them again?”

You chose to remain silent for Ningning’s question, neither wanting to directly confirm or deny any theorised accusations which plagued your best friends’ minds, but, with the growing giddiness which reflected on their faces, you realised that no amount of silence could ever hide your real thoughts from your friends, prompting the passing notion that maybe the silence was actually meant for you and your restless little brain.

Shaking away your thoughts, you turned back to Renjun, “Why are you so interested in this anyway?”

Renjun slurped the last droplets of his cocktail, eyebrows raised in amusement, “Well, aside from the fact that you chose my two best friends as your hookups for the night – which, may I add, coincidentally happens to be both your childhood crushes – Let’s just say those two aren’t exactly on good terms right now.”

Your lips parted from the straw, “Aren’t on good terms?”

As far as you remembered, the three of them had been best friends since early middle school – a fact that made you want to coil up into a shameful ball of nonexistence – you recalled seeing them on the soccer field at lunch, oftentimes doubling over themselves over something on Donghyuck’s phone or the rare exchanges of shy hellos and flustered smiles when they had met up with Mark as he dropped you off in front of your classroom.

Despite the drift in friendship from your end, Mark’s friendship with Donghyuck had always seemed to remain close – which, considering their shared activities of partying, sports and residing in the same social circle, made sense.

Noticing your puzzlement towards his revelation, he added, “Believe it or not, they fought over the same girl a few months ago.” Renjun popped the fries in his mouth as if he wasn’t casually spilling his best friends' secrets to a girl he randomly reunited with a couple days ago, “which is funny because that’s literally what’s happening right now.”

You groaned, slinking further into the wooden seat with your head buried into your hands, “Great. So what you’re saying is that I’ve just further ruined your guys’ friendship because of some silly drunken mistake.”

“I guess you could say that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Oh, lovely. What a great reassurance to hear.”

“I was just offering my pure honesty, no harm intended.”

The two of you slipped into a comfortable silence, ordering the last deserving round of the cheap happy hour cocktails before it was too late. As you waited for your orders to be delivered, Renjun spent the time scrolling through the photos of their drunken nights out, replaying the short clips of Donghyuck with a traffic cone over his head and his own unfortunate events of being rolled around the empty city in a stolen shopping cart.

With the number of snorts and giggles exchanged, it felt like no time had passed since your high school days – except for the increasing recklessness between both parties.

You began retelling your version of your nights out, from the gasps extracted as you mentioned witnessing a random street brawl in an alleyway to the disapproving tuts of his tongue about your case of being stranded on the side of a highway at three am.

“You know Y/N? You really are the bringer of chaos.”

You could only chuckle in response as you reached for your phone, “Trust me, I’m not that bad.”

However, as you unlocked your phone to read through your missed notifications for the evening, you realised that maybe you should fix your habit of making bad decisions whilst severely intoxicated, as what you found waiting on your lock screen served as a painful reminder of quite possibly your stupidest mistake yet.

Noticing your sudden change of demeanour, Renjun frowned, “Hey, is everything alright?”

You could only bat an eye, pushing your phone to his side of the table for him to read.

[ mark ] hey, what u up to?

[ donghyuck ] { image 1 } [ donghyuck ] wuju misses u :((

Yeah, you took it back. You really were the bringer of chaos.

a/n: bro u don't even understand.. this has been sitting in my wip docs for like more than a year😭 but i finally forced myself to write and post something on this app that wasn't a longass smau OIHFOIWEHF anyways thank you for reading!! don't hesitate to leave a comment and rb this post if you liked it🥲

taglist: @polarisjisung @wooyoung-a @w3bqrl @ficrecnctskz @rv7hsua @n0hyuck @neosdaisy @baekhyunstruly @rum-gone-why @dinonuguaegi @alethea-moon @klovmasworld @moonchele @chernabogsbiggestfan @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @produmads @shwizhies @dearlyminhyung @barbkh8450t @cupid-yuno @mxnhoeuwu @haechansbbg @sehunniepot @ujisworld

351 notes · View notes

anyasathenaeum · 10 months

Note

Not really nsfw but a crack-ish fic where Knives is trying to kidnap/threaten Vash's s/o and they just tell him "I fucked your brother, shitlips" and he starts arguing with them (they keep saying it) for at least 30 minutes until Vash shows up.

A/N: Okay this just made me burst into laughter, what a chaotic idea. I LOVE it. Sorry it's short but it's my first ever crack-fic

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Explicit mentions of sex, This is Absolutely Not Serious™, please enjoy chaos and Knives getting annoyed

"You will obey me, or else, I will-"

"You'll what? You won't do anything because jokes on you, I already slept with your brother," You immediately cut Knives off, grinning a bit maniacally at him.

Knives' eyes widened and he just stared at you for a moment.

"What?"

"I slept with your brother," You repeated, grinning even more maniacally. Despite you clearly being in a position of vulnerability, tied up and restrained, you were loving this and decided if you were gonna be unhinged, you would push the envelope as far as you could.

"You... what?"

Knives continued to just stare at you, confusion and lack of understanding clear in his pale eyes.

You let out a borderline-unhinged laugh, "What aren't you getting here, buddy? I. Slept. With. Your. Brother. I fucked Vash, which was amazing, by the way! I'm really glad we finally slept together, it took FOREVER for him to get the hint!"

Knives just rubbed his eyes with his hand and sighed exasperatedly, trying to keep himself calm and still maintain his intimidating facade, "As I was saying, you-"

"Fucked Vash, you betcha I did! Many times, actually!"

Oh, this was getting fun. You wanted to see how annoyed you could get Knives, partly out of the want to just frustrate and irritate him, and partly because you knew Vash would definitely be on his way to save you.

Knives scowled at you and just looked down at you as he got close to your face, anger clear in his features.

"Would you shut up about-"

"Fucking Vash? Never. And trust me, after the kind of sex we had? I'm NEVER shutting up about it ever again."

Knives let out an exasperated yell, "Are you kidding me?! Stop talking about sleeping with my brother!"

"Four times, Knives! Four orgasms in the span of ten minutes, I mean, what kind of man can pull that off?! It was impressive, I felt like I had no bones left in my body, and-"

"ENOUGH!"

Knives bellowed loud enough to actually silence for you, but it didn't wipe away the grin on your face. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh as you saw how red Knives' face was and how annoyed he was.

"What, jealous you aren't getting laid, Knives? I must say, the whole 'murdering the human race' vibe you've got going on might be the reason."

You couldn't believe you were pushing this far, but all your shame was out the window now - it was all or nothing at this point.

"I swear, if you don't stop talking about- about-," Knives spluttered angrily, but you immediately interjected before he could get too far.

"What? Sex? Are you so shy that you can't even say the word, Knives?" You teased mercilessly.

"Why are you two talking about sex?"

Both you and Knives turned to see Vash standing there, looking extremely confused and a bit of an amused expression on his face despite his gun being drawn.

"Get them out of my sight," Knives immediately snapped, just about throwing you across the room at Vash, "I give up. I never want to see them again, they're useless to me. Both of you, leave now, before they start talking about... about..."

"Sex?"

"OUT!"

1K notes · View notes

buckrecs · 1 year

Note

hello !! i would like to request a friends to lovers trope bucky fics recommendations if you could ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

Friends to Lovers

masterlist | req masterlist

friends to lovers is one of my absolute favorite tropes🥺

* = contains smut

ONESHOT

The Key Jangle by @delaber

Sick and tired of your many recent bad dates, you’re dreading yet another Valentine’s Day alone. When Bucky offers to show you what a night out is supposed to look like according to him, you get to experience what it’s like to date your best friend.

A Date by @delaber

you have a date and Bucky’s not exactly happy about it.

you by @lovelybarnes

best friends to lovers

Drunk in Love by @bethdutten

you get a little drunk at one of tony’s celebratory after-mission parties. and bucky is there looking so fine and-- fuck it. you can’t keep your hands off him.

*Three Hundred by @adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?

Obvious by @babyboibucky

You and Bucky are more than friends but less than lovers.

until his last breath by @witchywithwhiskey

when your best friend finds you destroying all the stuffed animals your cheater boyfriend gave you, he comforts you and buys you a new one.

Aching by @bbyboybucket

After Reader gives Bucky a massage, he realizes how much he likes her touch. // Or a friends to lovers story.

cookies, kisses, and stuff by @stevebabey

Something had... shifted. Yet somehow, nothing had changed. You can’t put your finger on it, but sometime between then and now, there’s a difference. Well, that much was obvious — a lot of things had changed since Bucky and you became friends.

*long awaited by @muchadoaboutbucky

Bucky asks you to come over, just to hang out.

one bed, two buddies by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You’re out on a mission with Bucky and Sam. Everything operates as usual until the room you’re sharing with Bucky only has one bed for the two of you. You try not to make a big deal of it, but that’s a little difficult when you both have some unresolved feelings for the other.

*Need To Know by @kikixreverie

When your best friend starts acting strange and you're left confused about his feelings, Natasha manages to convince you to try to make him jealous, what could go wrong?

To Let You Win by @delaber

a sparring match between you and your best friend turns into something you’ve both been keeping under the surface when he refuses to let you lose the game

delicate by @mediocre-daydreams

to soften his reputation, natasha suggests that bucky find a plus one to tony's party. chaos ensues.

Can I Kiss You? by @lanadelreyscokewhor3

you have a crush on bucky, and he has one on you. who cares if youre best friends. best friends kiss ALL the time.. right?

11:59 pm, December 31 by @lunarbuck

You've been in love with your best friend Bucky Barnes since fourth grade, but to him, you're just his best friend. It's New Year's Eve, maybe tonight will be different.

a million summers by @intrepidacious

Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.

voldka on the rocks by @kinanabinks

when you find out that someone you slept with secretly took photos and videos of you during sex, you feel betrayed - but bucky won't stand by and let that happen to his best friend.

Be My Muse by @themorningsunshine

Muse - A person or spirit that gives an artist the desire to create things

*it’s just a kiss by @witchywithwhiskey

your best friend bucky barnes decides he wants to see what it'd be like if you two kissed.

long awaited by @muchadoaboutbucky

*drunk off you by @cunaeparker

asgardian liquor comes in clutch, sam’s a cockblock, and tony’s parties have a tendency to get spicy

Buttercup by @buckyalpine

A Little Less Restless by @majestyeverlasting

As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.

dear… whoever by @kashimos-hajime

a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries.

the trials and tribulations of getting Bucky Barnes a second date by @buckyarchives

Bucky hasn’t kissed someone since the 40s and he needs a little… practice.

SERIES

*The Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

It’s All Fun and Games by @yikeswtfmate

A glimpse into Bucky and Y/N’s relationship, where they’re not together, but every single one of their friends would beg to differ.

*Ease My Mind by @buckyskorpion

Bucky Barnes is your best friend and, of course, you’re in love with him. But apparently Bucky is just fine with your platonic relationship - you’re going to have to do something about that.

Here Comes The…Ex? by @ghostofskywalker

Three years after you broke up, you received the one piece of mail that no girl ever wanted to receive from her ex: a wedding invitation. You weren’t even going to go, but all that changed when his best friend came barging back into your life and insisted that you accompany him to the event.

Best Boyfriend You’ve Never Had by @language-rxgers

When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.

*vacant mirrors by @whirlybirbs

shit’s been rough. shit was rough even before the blip. dr. hart shares an office with dr. raynor, and you share with waiting room with bucky barnes.

Make the Wave by @lostgirlmuseum

You invite both your best friend and your boyfriend to a three-day weekend getaway at a beach resort. This trip was meant to be relaxing, but tensions and jealousies rise as both Miles and Bucky fight for your attention.

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes series #winter soldier x reader #best friend!bucky #bucky barnes friends to lovers #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #artist!bucky

1K notes · View notes

tiredfox64 · 1 month

Note

Hi Hi! I love you’re writings for Havik, it’s so hard to find any good Havik fics. Could you do Havik with an s/o who’s ex was abusive and they’re use to being bossed around and doing chores for their partner (like cooking, and cleaning for them and waiting for permission to do things)

You Have Freedom

Prior notes: Tbh using Havik is genius ngl. Make me wanna give him a kiss.

Pairing: Havik x Gn reader

Warnings ‼️: Mention of abusive/ toxic relationships, mention of violence, angst with happy ending

Relationship after relationship. It’s amazing that you are still standing. Though mentally you may have gained some issues since people in this world can’t act right.

Some partners never got over their ex. Some partners never took care of their own health. Some partners were just sick in the head and liked to mess with you.

It wasn’t you, you just had some bad luck and ran in the arms of the wrong people. You found comfort in the chaos that you were so used to. It wasn’t your choice it’s just how your brain started to be molded into needing. Your heart wanted something better. You deserved better than this. Not being forced to make a man who barely looks at you to cook him a meal or discourage you from wearing the clothes you want. But how does one break out from the cycle without getting hurt? Well, you might need some outside help.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Another crumby date with your sleazebag of a boyfriend. He couldn’t even give you a decent date night. Going to the bar and ignoring you to talk to his buddies while flirting with other people in front of you is not a date. But he will gaslight you and tell you so many things.

“You’re crazy, that never happened.” “You’re so insecure this is why I don’t take you out.” “I was buying you drinks the whole time is that not enough attention for you.”

You don’t even like drinking let alone constantly having Jägerbombs which he took for himself. He just wanted an excuse to get drunk that’s why he called this a “date”. You hate when he’s drunk. He gets more irrational and occasionally violent. He’s currently going off about how you are ruining the vibe by sulking. Now he says the clothes that he approved are too slutty while a priest would beg to differ that you are extremely modest. You’re on the verge of crying when suddenly you both hear footsteps coming your way in the dark night. Only a quarter of the moon is showing which makes it harder to see who is coming. Closer and closer these heavy footsteps come your way until what little natural light could be shined shows a man. A very scary looking man.

He’s hunched over yet he still looks taller than you. You could see his head is not aimed towards your direction but your boyfriend’s. Your boyfriend in his drunken state starts yelling and cussing him out when he has done no wrong. You tried to make him stop but he pushed you off of him, almost making you fall while he begin to yell derogatory terms at you. This seemed to displease the other man who came closer and closer until he was right at your boyfriend’s face. When he stood up straight you saw that he was much bigger than your boyfriend. He was tall and seemingly stronger. The moon light finally showed some of his face when you saw the lower half was mangled. You were frozen, unsure of what to do.

Your boyfriend booked it out of there, not even looking back at you. He was horrified and knew he fucked up. You were left alone with this scary looking man.

“Heh, pathetic. I’ve never seen such a weak man before.” He spoke in a gravely voice.

You just stared without saying a word. He began to walk off and you kept looking at him. He sensed you were still staring and turn back.

“What, too afraid to move? Did I scare you that much?” He might have been teasing you but you’re not sure.

“I’m afraid to walk home alone.”

Well that was a shock. You weren’t scared of him but you were scared of being alone. He won’t lie that seemed kinda cute. Your prick of a boyfriend did leave you behind so he felt like you deserved to at least get home safety. He walked back to you, staring down at you with that mangled face, before gesturing you to follow him. You did so without hesitation.

The ball started to roll without you knowing. This was the start of something good. The start of something with a Seidan who calls himself Havik.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Letting Havik into your home after he walked you back was the best decision you’ve made in a while. Though at first you were scared by his scars and his violent attire that didn’t change the fact he was calm with you. That calmness never went away.

Yes, he isn’t the most stable person around. You’ve seen him rip his own arm off to smack someone but that person he was smacking was your ex so it’s okay.

He never told you to stop crying. Even on the walk home you bursted out crying from that whole night. Havik didn’t immediately comfort you but when you were almost done crying he lightly wiped your tears away with his clawed hand. The metal that grazed your face was slightly confronted. And then he proceeded to lick the tears off his hands but let’s just overlook that.

You have felt safe with him around. He’s like a scary guard dog that you see as a protective softie. But in the back of your mind you worried that he would turn on you just like all your other exes. It’s starts with caring about you, than they slowly start to get aggravated and aggressive, then the love bombing starts, and a new vicious cycle starts.

This time is different, I promise.

You first tested him when your friends invited you out. A new club opened and you are still young you just had to go. They thought you were single now so they said you could dress however you wanted. But your concern was if Havik would be okay with it.

When you walked up to him he was sharpening the blade he usually had on his left arm. You swallowed hard as you hoped this wouldn’t turn nasty. You had the clothes you wanted to wear in your hands.

“Havik, my friends asked me if I could go out with them tonight. Am I allowed to go.” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself to be yelled at.

“You don’t have to ask me. It’s up to you. Do you want to go?” He responded so quickly you wondered if he took in what you said.

“Yes, I want to go. And I want to wear this,” you showed him the outfit, “Am I allowed to wear this?”

“Wear what you are comfortable with. If you want to go out with your chest out go ahead, you should be allowed to do that without anyone holding you back.” He grumbled not because of you but that the fact that if you did go out with your chest out you would be shamed.

This wasn’t the usual response for you. Usually it’s a no, why do you need to go out, are you gonna hook up with other guys, stupid incriminating things like that. It’s not that Havik doesn’t care, it’s more like he doesn’t care what you want to do just as long as you are sure you want to do so.

“Did you need me to cook you something before leaving? Does something need to be cleaned?” You were sounding all panicky as if you were being tricked. Like there was a catch and you had to do certain things before you were allowed to leave.

Havik stopped what he was doing and looked at you. For a second you thought you messed up by asking too many things and you ended up annoying him. He got up from where he was sitting and slowly made his way towards you. You flinched but didn’t run since that usually got you into more trouble before. Once he was right in front of you his hand went up and started petting you at the top of your head. You were calm again. This man in front of you is not like the others in your past.

“Were you looking for an excuse not to go out or are you worried something bad will happen when coming home?” He asked.

“No I just…was making sure,” you seemed almost out of it, “I’m gonna get ready now.”

You walked off and did as you said. You got ready and let your friends know that you would be going out. They were more than happy to hear that news. You checked with Havik one more time if it was alright but just one look at him told you it was alright. Actually wait! He has something to say. He came up to you quickly and you thought this was the moment. Nope, he just ripped his arm off and tried to hand it to you.

“Carry this with you if anyone decides to bother you.” He advised.

“I can’t carry a severed arm around! Are you crazy?!”

Uh duh, he is a little coo coo in the head.

“It’s fine. You can just smack them with it and they’ll be out. You should try it, it’s liberating.” He’s still trying to make you take his arm.

“Havik, no, stop. I’ll go to jail.”

“I will break you out. It is your right to beat someone up if they are bothering you.”

He’s not getting it but the gesture is nice. No Havik, they won’t take the knife either. Clubs don’t allow that.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

This was a big change for you and it was a good change. Your friends saw how happier you were now. They thought it was the single life. No, it was because you started to see that you were finally in a healthy spot in life. You are with a man who lets you know that you have a choice.

The night ended and your friends brought you back home. The house was quiet. When you went all the way up to your bedroom you saw Havik seemingly sleeping in your bed. And of course he was taking up the whole bed.

You started to undress and put on your sleep wear before you heard him speak in a sleepy voice.

“Did you enjoy yourself? Did anyone bother you?” He asked.

“I enjoyed myself and no, no one bothered me luckily.” The tone in your voice portrayed how happy you were which was a nice change.

“I can’t go hunting for someone?” He asked

“You can’t go hunting for someone, no.” You replied

Havik is glad no one bothered you but he did want an excuse to go after someone. Oh well, he’ll just pick at random again.

You slipped into bed with the little space you had on your side. As you were about to ask Havik if he was fine with cuddling you he was already on it. He dragged you in, nuzzling his face against yours as an act of affection. He would give you a kiss but…ya know. But you can still give him a kiss!

You kissed him all over, even the exposed flesh since you didn’t fear it anymore. You were happy to have him in your life now. A man that many would fear but you see as the sweetest guy you have ever dated. Knowing how long it took for you to get this lucky made you cry. It was hard to tell if it was from joy or the fact that it took time before you gained something good. He licked your tears away before he rested his head on top of yours. He squeezed you tight to him, almost giving off a sort of comfort that a weighted blanket would give.

“One day, I will give you a world where you are free to do whatever you want. No one will tell you what to do or what you need to do. You will be free. I’ll set everyone who has been controlled free. If I can’t free everyone, at least I can free you.”

He knew exactly what to say to you. He knows what you’ve been through. Never again. As long as he lives and thrives he won’t let that happen. He opposes control. There is only freedom and love with that freedom. Do what you want, wear what you want, cook what you want, eat what you want, do you boo boo. He will support you. And you will support him with whatever he wants to do.

There is no insecurities, denials, cheating, lies, and manipulation. There is only freedom and love between you and Havik.

Now rest, you’ve had a long eventful day. Your new beginning has started and you are excited to see what will come of this.

Though I advise you keep a towel near your bed. Havik drools in his sleep. Like a lot. Don’t be surprised when you wake up with wet hair, that was him. Sorry, I don’t make the mangled man’s rules.

After notes: Truly I hope no one ever goes through shit like this. It’s not even something like a you should have this experience once type of thing. I hope none of y’all experience what I’ve experienced in past relationships cause it is no joke. But I hope something like this can bring others comfort. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #havik x you #havik x reader #mk havik #mortal kombat havik #havik #angst with a happy ending #angst with comfort

96 notes · View notes

thedeviltohisangel · 1 month

Text

All The Things I Did (Interlude): My Little Loves

a/n: Mother's Day, 1950. a super long, fluffy fic about Mother's Day! there is also quite a bit of angst as this takes place about one month before John would ship off to fight in the Korean War. I really hope you all enjoy this little bit of a deeper look at the twins/Lillian's personalities and Cass/John as parents and the absolute chaos that their house always is but they fucking love it because they fucking love each other. chat soon my lovies xoxo

The gentle tickles of John’s lips pressing to her back caused a smile to spread across her face. She kept her eyes closed as he kissed every inch of her skin that was exposed by the dip in the back of her nightgown.

“I know you’re awake, baby. Can see the goosebumps when I kiss you.”

“Keep going. I didn’t tell you to stop.” He smiled against her shoulder and reached for the hand resting against her rounded belly and twisting their fingers together. “Waking me up like this is exactly how we came to celebrate this day three years ago.”

“Happy Mother’s Day, my love. Last one as a mama of three, huh?” Cass hummed and wiggled her back further into his chest. He kissed behind her ear and buried his nose in her hair, relishing in the simple feeling of her in his arms. It would never get old for him. The quiet moments between them and their growing family were his favorite. There was no moniker he loved more than husband and father.

“If you had it your way I would always be pregnant.”

“Can’t argue that. I love filling you up with my babies.” As if to illustrate his point, he found the hem of her silkwear at the top of her thighs and lifted it to expose her belly to him fully. She was two months along with the next addition to their family. They were both already so eager to have a little baby again. “And how can you blame me? We make the prettiest little ones.”

“I have to agree. How do you make it so they all have your eyes?” She rolled over to face him and look at the baby blues in question.

“I don’t do it on purpose. Just a side effect of my-” There was a gentle knock on the door. “My bets on Penny,” he whispered.

“Fine. I’ll take Lilly.”

“Mommy? I come in?” It was Gale. They were both wrong.

“Yes, my little dove.” Knocking on the door to Mommy and Daddy’s room was one of the most critical things they had taught the twins. It had only taken one time for them to walk in on a moment their innocent eyes should never be exposed to for John to use his stern dad voice. The tone was so rarely used that their toddler ears had listened very closely and had obeyed ever since.

“Happy Mama Day!” He came scurrying into their room, his blanket trailing behind him, and Cass caught him in her arms as he jumped onto the bed.

“Careful, buddy,” John exclaimed as his wife grunted and fell against the pillow with the impact of her son.

“Sorry!” A few days ago, John had reminded the kids that the day where they celebrate their mother was coming up. Gale had been particularly excited, giving John a stack of drawings that he wanted to gift her and asking if they could have pancakes for breakfast because they were her favorite.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked as her hand stroked through his curls. He nodded from where his head was tucked under her chin.

“Hungry,” he offered simply. All of a sudden, John had two sets of eyes on him. “Daddy, we have cakes?”

“We did say that was mommy’s favorite.” He stroked the pillow soft cheek of his son and Cass smiled as she recognized the look in his eyes. One of pure adoration. One that he only ever looked upon her and their children with. “Go get your sisters so they can help.”

“Okay. Love you mama. Love you papa.” Gale reached for his dad first, kissing John’s puckered lips, before he tightened his little arms around Cass’ neck and accepted her request for a kiss as well. He shimmied out of the bed and was off in a scamper down the hall.

“When are we going to tell them?” she whispered with sadness as she watched her son. As she felt her husband’s hand tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I want today to be one of happiness. For you and for them.” He thinks the twins would be able to understand he was leaving for a while. That they would be able to feel the ache in their chest at not seeing their father for months. Maybe longer. Lillian had just turned two. Her grasp of the world around was still taking shape. But there were medical appointments and chauvinistic doctors.

John knew his wife was strong enough, their love for each other was more than strong enough, to survive his deployment to Korea. He just didn’t know how he was going to say goodbye to her or the little one growing inside of her. He was at his strongest in the presence of his family.

“I want every day to be happy for us. But especially for them.” Cass had promised her children they would never not be with their family. That nothing would ever separate them and that is exactly what their mother and father had fought for. And now it was all unraveling. “Look at my first baby coming to see me because he knows I’m sad.” Butter came padding into their room with a sock monkey in his mouth.

“No, he just knows I’m about to get out of bed and wants to take my spot.” Butter whined as if to ask if he could hurry up and do just that. They heard two sets of feet quickly patter down the stairs and smiled as their littlest one rubbed her eyes in their doorway. The stairs were a bit of a daunting task for her so she knew to ask for help. “Hi, ladybug.” John was quick to swing his legs onto the floor and pad over to his princess.

“Does it look like she was scratching at her ear again?” Cass welcomed Butter onto the bed with a scratch to the top of his head. At her last doctor’s appointment, they had poked and prodded as they tried to find a comfortable hearing aid for her little ear. It had left her with even more discomfort than she normally walked around with and it broke Cass’ soul she couldn’t fix it.

“It doesn’t look as red as it did yesterday.” John kissed the ear in question as he rested his daughter on his hip. She smiled and gripped the collar of his shirt tighter. “Should we go make sure Mommy has a breakfast that’s actually edible?” Cass melted as she watched him rub his nose against their daughter’s. Lillian was so attached to her parents, only ever at complete peace in their arms and seemingly feeling a little lost in navigating this loud and crazy world. The most rewarding gift she could have given her children was this man as their father.

“We can’t miss mass either, John!” she called as he disappeared towards the sounds of giggling children and bowls clanging together. “What are the chances they don’t make my entire kitchen look like a warzone?” she asked Butter as she turned to kiss his nose. He looked at her as if to say zero.

----

“Penny, I love your coloring so much and it is so beautiful, but can we keep it on the paper and off the table?” Cass normally put paper or an old tablecloth under their paper when they were coloring to avoid this very issue but the thought hadn’t crossed his mind until it was too late.

“Daddy, sing please!” Penelope asked with a smile as she looked up at John.

“Please!” Gale emphasized.

“Sing? What should we sing?” He was balancing Lily on his hip, her little hands occupied with the piece of fruit she was sucking on and refusing to eat, while grabbing pancake ingredients with one hand and monitoring the bacon crackling on the stovetop.

“Twinkle star,” she offered as she got down from her chair and moved to the counter by her dad.

“You want to start the song, lovey?” Penny wrapped her arms around John’s leg and hugged tightly as he struggled to measure the flour with two of his limbs occupied by cuddly babies.

“Twinkle twinkle star,” she began singing with her toddler lisp glossing over some of the consonants in the words.

“How I wonder what you are,” John continued as his son padded over to join in on use Dad as a jungle gym time, taking the empty leg for himself to match his twin. “Up above the world so high…” He looked down as the twins mumbled along to the song.

“Like a star in the sky,” they sang. He smiled at their new lyrics. Diamond was a hard word for them to pronounce. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”

“How I wonder what you are!” He bopped his finger against Lilly’s nose as the song came to a close. “Excellent job, my loves.”

“We help?” Gale asked as he was already moving his little stool so it was flush to the counter.

“Stir very carefully,” John said as he offered the wooden spoon to his son. He switched the hip Lilly was resting on and dropped a kiss to the top of Gale’s head, checking in on Penny who was happy to stay wrapped around his leg like a monkey. “Should we add some chocolate?”

“I love chocolate!” Penelope answered as she stood to try and peek at what her brother was doing.

“Penny, careful,” Gale cautioned as he furrowed his brow with concentration at the task his father had given him. John smiled at the interaction as he offered Penelope a little bowl of just chocolate chips.

“Don’t tell your mother,” his finger against his lips as if to seal in the secret.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she giggled as she scurried back to the table with her little treat. Lillian squeaked with delight as Butter came loping down the stairs to join in on the chaos and get closer to the smell of bacon. He sniffed at her feet as she laughed and reached to pet him.

“There you go, ladybug.” John set her down and she was off towards the living room with her best friend in tow in search for his favorite basket of toys. “How we looking, Gale?”

“All done!” John gave it a quick stir to make sure everything was incorporated and gave his son an impressed nod when it looked perfect.

“Mommy’s going to love these,” he whispered as the little one smiled.

“I love mommy.”

“She loves you, too,” John slid the pan of bacon to the back of the stove and let Gale drop a pad of butter into a new pan, “and you know I love you a lot, right?”

“This much?” Gale giggled as he spread his arms out wide.

“This much,” John answered with a smile as he extended his own arms. He brought his arms around his son’s little body and squeezed as tightly as he could, kissing the side of his head. There was a happy screech from the living room, distinctly the sound of Lillian, that had both Egan boys turning their heads. “You want to check on your sister?” The twins were just as protective over their little sister as their parents were. John and Cass had done their best to explain to them she was a little different than the little siblings their friends have or even than they were as babies. That she needed a little extra love and attention sometimes. Cass had let the thoughts eat her alive that she wouldn’t be able to love the twins as much as they deserved if she was so focused on Lillian. John had assured her that her heart was big enough for the task.

“I be back!” John watched with a smile as his son ran off into the living room and felt his chest swell at the little humans he and his wife had created and were raising to be kind, loving and giving. It was these exact moments that had spurned his heart back to life on the back of the carriage in the German forest or when his stomach was cavernous and his nose felt like it was going to fall off in Stalag. He was on this earth to be a husband to his wife and a father to his children.

“Daddy, more chocolate?” Penelope presented him an empty bowl with the evidence of her treat streaked across her cheeks and even a little on the pink of her pajamas.

“Little lamb, how did you get a tiny bowl of chocolate chips all over you like this?” he asked as he crouched down to her height.

“More, daddy? Please?”

“I’ll put some in your pancakes, how about that?”

“Smile face?” John had been known to try and turn his kids food into a smiley face whenever he had the chance. Most notably was Sunday morning pancakes with chocolate chips.

“Yes, baby, daddy’ll make your pancake into a smiley face.” Satisfied with his answer, she too ran off towards the room that held a fraction of her toys, her dog and her siblings. He thought about calling back for her so he could wipe her face and hide the evidence from his wife but he could already hear giggling and thought it best to leave it be.

Of course his three kids were an absolute handful, he doesn’t know how their nanny did this by herself everyday or how Cass managed at night before he got home, but he had never felt as fulfilled as he did in the moments with them. When he had gotten the orders to Korea, it was missing these moments that made his heart stop. Missing Gale and Penelope’s musicals they put on with their stuffed animals most nights. Missing guidance from doctors on how to help Lillian still hit milestones and reach her full potential in this life. Missing the sight of Cass’ smile and the way she mumbled in her sleep and how she fiddled with her wedding band when she was reading.

The United States Air Force was a bitch of a mistress.

----

John had every intention of bringing her breakfast in bed and snuggling as a family under the covers. But Gale had spilled the orange juice on his way up the stairs and Butter had stolen a strip of bacon from the plate while he was trying to clean up and Penny had already picked chocolate chips out of two pancakes before he realized it might have been too noble of an intention.

“What have we got going on down here?”

“Mommy!” It was a chorus of loving children as Cass appeared at the top of the stairs like an angel. She tiptoed around a defeated John and welcomed all three of them in for a hug as she reached them.

“Did my little loves help Daddy make breakfast?” The twins nodded and Lillian crawled into her lap, her ear dropping to her mother’s chest and smiling at the feeling of her heartbeat instantly. “Let’s go set the table so we can enjoy it.”

“I’ll meet you guys over there,” John sighed as he was picking up ripped pieces of pancake from the stairs.

Just like the goddess he always knew she was, Cass had the kids cleaning up coloring supplies, setting placemats and settling into their wooden booster seats all while they hummed Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star again. He watched silently as she wet a napkin and wiped Penelope’s giggling face and helped Gale cut his breakfast into smaller pieces and took extra care to make sure Lillian was comfortable with her miniature fork. “I’m sorry, baby, we were supposed to be waiting on you, not the other way around.”

“I’d rather dote on the little doves that made me a mother today.” She fell against him with ease, his lips against hers quickly. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“You haven’t even eaten it yet. It could be disgusting.”

“The lack of Egan jabbering coming from the table due to their eating of it leads me to believe it can’t be that bad.” Cass pressed onto her toes to kiss John the way she always did when they got to talking about their babies. Like she wanted another one promptly. It was how the current Egan in her belly got there.

“Since when is their jabbering from me? You’re the one who sweet talks people for a living.” He fisted her nightgown as he tried to restrain himself against the efforts her tongue was making with his. “And so successfully I might add, baby. So good at being my little Spook.”

“John Clarence Egan,” she squeezed his cheeks into his chin with one hand, “stop with that bedroom voice. We have no time-”

“Oh, Cass, I don’t need that much time,” he sniped back with that grin that normally made her knees fall open.

“Mommy, Daddy, sit!” Penelope pointed at the empty chairs they normally sat in, her face covered in even more chocolate than it was before.

“What do we say when we ask someone for something?”

“Please!” she answered. Cass kissed the top of her head and sat down across from her as John carried over two plates.

“Thank you, baby,” she kissed his arm as it reached in front of her.

“Mama!” Cass smiled as Lillian called for her attention and reached out her arms. It wasn’t very often she tried to speak and it made her heart soar whenever she did. Even more so when she used her voice to call for her parents.

“Yes, my sweet girl, I’m right here.” She brought her into her lap and swallowed back tears as John looked at them with a sad smile. “I’ll always be right here. I promise.” Cass buried her nose in Lillian's hair and breathed deeply as John held her hand on top of the table.

“Daddy, too?” Gale asked quietly as he paused his eating.

“I’m always, always, going to do everything I can to be with you.” He squeezed his wife’s hand tighter.

“Okay, Daddy!” Satisfied with the answer, and not understanding the true sentiment behind John’s words, Gale was focused on his fork and making it sound like a plane.

Cass did her best to smile the rest of breakfast. She snuck some bacon under the table for Butter. Bounced Lilly on her knee while she laughed. Felt her sides hurt with joy as John mimed eating the chocolate off of Penelope’s cheeks. It was exactly the kind of family she had always wanted to build. One of pure love and happiness. One that didn’t feel like it needed to be molded in some kind of high society pressure. One where her kids would always know she loved them. Where they would always know their parents loved each other.

“Alright, monkeys, let’s go upstairs so we can get changed for church.” The twins groaned like teenagers trapped in toddler bodies, Penelope dramatically going limp in John’s lap while Gale dropped his forehead to the table. “Hey, we said today was Mommy’s day right? So we agreed to do whatever Mommy wanted?”

“No church, Daddy.” To them it meant stockings and sitting quietly and there were the Carter kids that they despised seeing.

“For me?” Cass asked with a pout. It worked on their father. Maybe it would work on them. Penny looked to her dad.

“Do it for Mama,” he whispered like it was a secret just between them. Penelope relented with a nod and after a kiss to the top of her head from John was off his lap and holding her brother’s hand to scurry up the stairs.

“You want to help them while I clean all this up?” He was already standing from the table and gathering plates.

“I’m going to find a way to get us to Japan.” John froze and turned back to look at his wife, her focus on Lillian. “I’m not letting anything separate this family. Not even another war.” He set the plates in the sink and moved to crouch at her side, tucking her hair behind her ear and noticed the way she was shaking with the strength it took to not break down.

“Cass, baby, nothing ever will separate us. Even if I am physically far away, you know my heart is always with you five.”

“Last time…last time…” Lilly squeaked as her mother pressed her into her chest. Cass so rarely thought about Germany. Used all her compartmentalization skills to keep the years without John shoved away. Her time at the camp and their journey to make it out of there tucked away even further. She had always been adamant that misfortune only befell them when they were apart. When the distance allowed the malevolent spirits to find their way in.

“Hey, ladybug, come here.” John gently pried Cass’ hands from around their daughter and set her on the ground. “Butter!” The hound came trotting when he heard his name. He whined at the sight of Cass and the state she was in.

“Mama?” Lillian tilted her head and reached back for her mother with curiosity. Understanding why John had called him, Butter distracted her with a lick to her cheeks and she was giggling at the dog instantly. He gently nudged her until she was toddling out of the kitchen and he followed after her.

“Talk to me, Spook. Tell me what’s rattling around that gorgeous mind.” John cupped her cheek so he could look her in the eyes.

“I had the worst two years of my life because I wasn’t with you. I was hopeless and lifeless and had no purpose without you, John. I’m so afraid that when you leave, I’ll go right back to that place and I have those three I have to be brave for and this little one and oh, God, they’re going to come while you’re gone and I can’t-” Her head was tucked under his chin in an instant as the sobs racked through her body.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. I’ve got you.” Cass had gotten so good at tucking her emotions into a little box that she kept in a dark and tiny corner of her heart. It had been years since the memories inspired a breakdown such as this. “If you and the kids moving to Japan is going to fix that ache, then we’ll figure it out. We’ll find a way. Just like we always do.”

“I don’t want this to weigh on you. Just give me a minute and I’ll be fine.” She pushed off his chest and stood on shaky legs.

“Cass…” he reached for her but she didn’t grab his hand. He recognized the glazed look to her eyes. It was the same she had the previous few times the ghosts of the past had come to haunt her. It was Central Intelligence Agency Cassandra Egan taking the reins. Urging the version of her that felt too hard and too deeply to let go of the wheel and let the cold as stone version take control. “Cass, baby, don’t do this. Don’t run from your emotions. Don’t shut me out.”

“Mommy! I need help!” Penelope’s voice called from the top of the stairs.

“I’ll be right there, little love!” She turned to look at John who looked like he was going to stay exactly where he was until she crawled back in his lap and worked through this with him. “I’m not running and I’m not shutting you out. Now’s just not the right time.”

“When will be the right time?” He wasn’t going to let her say the things he wanted to hear and get away with no following through.

“Tonight? You, me and our pillows?” It was where their most important conversations seemed to be had. The place where they could relax and breathe and touch each other and whisper softly and kiss each other through whatever problems arose. They had yet to find a problem they couldn’t kiss their way through.

“I’ll be there.”

----

Gale and Penelope held their mother’s hand tightly as they walked out of the church, anxiously awaiting the lollipop their father normally handed to them once they hit the sidewalk if they had behaved. Penelope had done her best to not plug her ears at the sound of the organ and Gale had only stuck his tongue out at Jeffery Carter once and his mother hadn’t even noticed.

“Alright. Good little lambs lollipop time.” John dropped Lillian to her feet and squatted to be at the same height of his cheering children. “One for each of you.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” the twins said in unison.

“Give me a kiss.” They giggled as they each pressed their sticky lips to his cheeks.

“Oh, Cass! It’s so good to see you! Happy Mother’s Day!” Grace Carter. Self-proclaimed Queen of Great Falls, Virginia.

“Grace, it’s good to see you.” Cass greeted her politely. “Happy Mother’s Day yourself.” She was acutely aware of her twins staring daggers at the two Carter boys. She gathered them against her legs and smoothed her hand over their hair.

“Lieutenant Colonel Egan, you always look dashing in your Sunday best.” Cass gathered her breath before Grace became acquainted with her right hook.

“Thank you, ma’am. How are you doing, Adam?” he reached to shake his hand firmly before settling Lillian back on his hip and kissing his wife on the side of the head.

“I’m good, John, nice to see you.” For all the women that fawned over John Egan, much to the nearly violent chagrin of his wife, the husbands were never worried. No one in Great Falls or Charleston or Europe had ever seen him look at a woman that wasn’t his wife.

It incensed the local gossipers that he only ever seemed to be a devoted, attentive husband and father. He had been seen taking the twins to a park by himself, the horror. Seen picking them up from preschool instead of the nanny and while his wife was at work, the scandal. And the absolute most incredibly inappropriate display of Lieutenant Colonel John Egan handling a temper tantrum on the sidewalk of Walker Street with soft words and an understanding tone. Not a scream or a yell or a rough hand to avoid the prying eyes. Ghastly.

“Well, we best get going.” Cass smiled in the way that John knew meant she was moments from kicking someone’s ass, her hands pivoting the twins away and towards the car.

“Cass, will we be seeing you at the school’s bake sale Wednesday afternoon?”

“No, Grace. I’ll be at work.” That was another thing the local gossips loved to make a topic of conversation. The fact that Mrs. Cassandra Egan worked. That she wasn’t at every bake sale or auction but somehow always managed when it was a recital or art show. They were annoyed she had priorities and boundaries and enforced them and had a partner who seemed to do everything with her in perfect tandem. They never worked against each other, always rowing in the same direction.

“Such a shame you always have to work. Especially in your condition. You really should be resting.” John felt the air turn cold and tightened his grip around his daughter, his other arm wrapping around his wife’s waist and resting on top of their precious bump.

“And what condition might that be? The blessing of another child?” He knew where her mind was going. The acrid comments from doctors that somehow Cass was to blame for Lillian’s deafness. That she hadn’t taken enough care of herself during her pregnancy or rode her horse one too many times or that having twins had ruined her birth canal and damaged their daughter during birth. “I could only hope to be in this condition more often than not, Grace. I mean, you said it yourself. My husband looks so dashing in his Sunday best.”

----

A long afternoon of lollipops and the sprinkler in the backyard and babies falling asleep around the outdoor fire with chocolate on their cheeks, turned into a slow night of baths and bedtime stories and lullabies as Cass tucked the blanket around Gale’s tiny frame.

“Mommy?” he asked groggily as she was just about to close the door.

“Yes, little love?” Cass padded back to his bedside and gently knelt down to look at his precious face, cheek squished against his pillow and stuffed animal tucked under his chin.

“I love you.”

“I love you so much, my baby. So very, very much.” She stroked his cheek gently and kissed his forehead.

“Stay together forever,” he mumbled as his eyes grew heavy and he drifted into dream land. Cass held her breath as she watched peace settle over him. Peace that their family would remain intact and together. Forever.

“I’ll do everything in my power, baby, I promise.” She gently pushed his curls off his forehead and pressed a kiss to the skin there, sealing in her promise.

Cass closed the door as gently as she could and rested her own forehead against the wood to steady her breathing for a moment. For someone who prided themselves in keeping their emotions at bay, she was having a hard time breathing against the waves crashing against her. She knew she was stronger than this. Knew that her relationship with her husband and his bond with their kids was capable of withstanding any test that was thrown at them. The point was that Cass thought she had passed enough tests for the universe to give her a break. That she had earned a modicum of normalcy in waking up next to her husband every morning and both of them raising their babies together every day. What more did they want from her in order to give her that? Cass wasn’t sure she had much left to give them.

“Gale fall asleep before you even made it out the door?” John asked as he was arranging the pillows the way he knew his wife liked. “I didn’t even have to read to little ladybug, she practically fell asleep before I even got her pajamas on her.”

“For all the sugar he consumed today, yes, he fell right asleep. Penny is probably still awake making flashlight puppets.” Ever since John had used the flashlight and his hand to act out a scene from her favorite bedtime story, Penelope had been working to perfect her craft. More than once she had been caught by her parents in the middle of the night.

“Just the fact that we created humans amazes me but the fact that they have imaginations and dreams and personalities…learning who they are is never going to get old to me,” John mused. He walked around the bed and tried to bring Cass into his arms but she was already crawling onto the bed and sliding herself under the blankets. “You’re not going to let me hold you, baby?” He looked dejected as he stood there with his arms open like he was still expecting her to fall into them.

“I need that big brain of yours to help me work through some problems, Lieutenant Colonel.” She patted his pillow next to her for emphasis. He smiled wickedly and leaned down to kiss her, crawling over her body until she was horizontal across the bed. “I love when you look at me like that. Like you can read me and understand without me having to verbalize it to you.”

“Because I can, Spook,” he hummed. His lips dropped to hers once, twice, three times before his eyes were right back on hers. “You scare me when you shut down like you did earlier, Cass. You have to let yourself feel things in order to work through them.”

“I feel things when I’m with you. When I’m with our kids. It’s the feeling of not being with you and us all not being together that I want to avoid.” His finger drifted down her cheek and left a pleasant tingle in its wake.

“It’s not forever, baby. With those three and one on the way and Butter, you will be so busy you won’t even realize I’m gone.” She sat up and held John’s face between his hands.

“Please tell me you don’t think that’s true. There will always be a hole in my chest whenever you aren’t near.”

“I know. I’m just trying to find the right words to say to soothe your ache, Cass.” She leaned down and kiss him gently. Conveying all of her love, or as much as her human form could summon, letting herself melt under his gaze.

“There’s a position in Tokyo. Mary told me about it a couple of weeks ago and I’ve been holding back on asking for it because of our little ones. All four of them.” Her hands fell to her pregnant belly and John rested his cheek on top of them. “I’m scared to fly with them that long and I’m scared of my choices fucking with another one of our-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Cass. You did nothing wrong when it comes to Lillian. You carried her and provided for her and were put here on this earth to be exactly the mother that you are to her.” John wasn’t ashamed at the level of anger he had shown the doctors that had tried to pin this on his wife. Wasn’t ashamed that he had almost throttled them through the exam room door. She smiled through her tears and combed her fingers through his curls.

“See? I need you.”

“We need each other.” She nodded in agreement.

“And we’ll always have each other. We’ll always make sure of it.”

As she kissed John in the warmth of the lamplight, the ache in her chest was soothed but not solved. She had a plan percolating in her mind on how to do so but fears that were acting as barriers towards diving in. It was uncharted water for her. Unsure of her choices and calculating the ripple of implications they would have on her children instead of just herself or an operation. It was the first time there may be a conflict between her desires as a wife and her desires as a mother. Ultimately, she would be the only one able to reconcile them.

But there were a few things she would always know for certain. Firstly, that John Egan loved her and she loved him. Second, that she loved every inch of all of her children and always would, for all time. Third, that she had fought tooth and nail for the life that she currently had and nothing would ever be worth losing it for.

Lastly, Cassandra Ann Egan knew that she deserved happiness. And fulfillment. And peace. She had fought a war to find the stable ground she was sitting on and supposed she would fight another one to maintain it. To protect it. To preserve her little corner of the world that darkness was not allowed to touch.

They’d have to get through her first. And she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

#masters of the air #john egan fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #mota #john egan x oc #john egan #john egan x reader #cass and bucky #callum turner #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfic #mota fanfic #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fanfic

85 notes · View notes