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ph4ngz · 1 year

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BACKSEAT LOVE || mechanic!bkg x anxious!reader

PART 1

A/N : ITS FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED YOU GUYS *HAPPY DANCE* :D

It's been two days since your last encounter with that gorgeous mechanic.

You'd be lying if you said he hadn't been the subject of your dreams, daydreams, wet dreams… all you can think about is him. Him and that perfect face, you still remember every splatter of grease and oil laid out on his features, you think you may have burnt the image into your brain.

His card is right there in the pocket of your denim shorts, just begging you to pull it out and stare at it for the nth time this Sunday morning. Your legs kick up and down on the bed as you lay on your tummy, doing nothing to help your friends pack up and get ready to leave the motel. Glancing back up at them, your eyes only seem to lose focus and any thoughts of packing your bags are, surprise, replaced by a certain blonde.

You wanted to call him, you really did. Would it be odd to show up at his garage again after two days without contact? It's possible you've missed your chance with him now that you've basically been ignoring the guy. You could pretend something is wrong with your car as an excuse to apologise! Nah, because then he'd check it out...

"Whatcha thinkin' about babe?" A mischievous, high pitched voice and a bounce of your mattress breaks you out of your inner struggle.

"I wanna see him…" you admit, realising too late that you hadn’t told your friends about Katsuki.

"See who?" Another voice, much more softer than Mina's, pipes up. Not many things can grasp Jiro's attention, but regarding you and boys…

Oh god, here we go. You and your stupid brain. There's no escaping this nonsense now. You can already hear the giggling and terrible impressions and they haven't even started yet.

But really, should you tell them about him? There'd be nothing wrong with that! However, something is telling you to keep him all to yourself. Jealousy? Panic? Perhaps he's so perfect that you're wary of other better girls stealing him away from you?

"Oh, just this guyyy, y'know… just this guy who gave her his number? And he’s a mechanic by the looks of things." Mina reads off the card he had given you that day, you having been completely unaware that she'd swiped it from your pockets until now.

"Hey!" You squirm under her weight, an elbow leaning on you as if you were an armchair as she carries on.

"Is he hot? What does he look like?" Jiro grins and leaps onto the mattress beside Mina, and before too long Uraraka is straddling your lower back, keeping you pinned down.

"Is he like one of those guys in the movies? Like, all sweaty and dirty and dreamy with a nice smile…" Uraraka's eyes trail upward to the spinning ceiling fan as she describes your mechanic with deadly accuracy.

Your eyes widen involuntarily.

"AH! Ochaco's right! You've gotta go see him again! Did he ask you out? Have you called him?" Mina squeals beside you, but then her face falls into a state of great suspense.

You know what's coming now. Sigh.

"Don't tell me you pulled one of your specials…" she guesses ominously, referring to your notorious moments of Boy Anxiety™.

Jiro smiles menacingly from behind her, "D-D-Did you?"

You find a smidge of respect for Uraraka for not joining in although you know she wants to. Rolling your eyes, you respond with a muffled "almost" after throwing your head into the covers out of embarrassment.

The hyperactive trio share a quick, knowing glance and simultaneously drown out the click-clacking of the old fan airing the motel room with a loud "AAHHH", Uraraka shaking your shoulders and Mina slapping the bed sheets.

"Where did you even find that anyways?" Jiro asks softly amidst the noise.

"It was hiding in one of her ass pockets." The pink haired thief replies proudly, jokingly smacking your asscheek and making it jiggle as your face heats up, still concealed by the covers.

The girls gossip about you as if you're not even there, and you decide you're perfectly fine with that if it means nobody is nagging you, so you let them talk. A few minutes pass by without a single word leaving your mouth until a finger messily taps on your bare shoulder.

Craning your head around to rest atop of your crossed arms, you shamefully eye the cutie straddling your back, internally smiling at the way her fringe is tied back on top of her head.

"Mm?" you hum groggily, awaiting her next words.

"I can always ask 'Zuku to give us all a ride home...?"

Your grumpy pout swiftly fades into a light and appreciative curl of your lips at her suggestion...

"...We aren't the only ones goin' for a ride today-"

...But soon enough the grumpy pout returns.

Excited cackling, thumping of dancing feet upon the floor and a group rendition of "tryna' catch me ridin' dirty" that is least to be desired fill the small room.

"UGHHughhhUGhhhhh," You exhale a tired groan into the back of your forearm, a wavering one at that, courtesy of Uraraka twirling an imaginary lasso in her hand and rocking back and forth on you like she's at a rodeo.

Eventually, an amused grin makes its way onto your face, with their antics (Mina's horrific excuse for dancing) too hilarious to even attempt keeping a straight face.

|| || || ||

"Oh, so you know Kacchan?" Izuku Midoriya's question almost has you jump as you open the car door to your driver's seat, curse him from coming up behind you like that.

"Who?" you furrow your brows innocently, your back pocket feeling particularly empty for some odd reason. You subtly glance behind the mess of green hair partially blocking your view at the three of your friends singing along to the radio in the backseat of his car.

"Whoops, sorry! I meant Katsuki." The thick fingers suddenly shoved in your confused face hold and point at a certain card you'd only just pried from someones grabby hands. God, this guy too!? Is everybody here a damn pickpocket?

Hastily snatching the card from Izuku's hand, you stutter an unnerved answer, "U-Uh! Yeah! No! I mean, we only met the other day, that's all..."

No way this bastard is going back in my pocket, you think.

"No need to freak out, promise I'm not being nosy or anything. I was just wondering, seeing as me and him are... I guess you could say childhood friends! He's actually doing some work on my Jeep, hence the basic rent-out. I knowww, I don't look like a Ford guy." He drawls on cheerfully, ignoring how you stuff the card inside your bra. You smirk at his choice to disregard your actions, and force down the invasive questions you so badly want to ask concerning your beloved mechanic.

"You better go before the girls set up a makeshift concert venue in the trunk." Beaming, you gesture to his bouncing vehicle.

"Shit, you're right. Ah, it was nice seeing you again!" Izuku waves whilst stumbling backwards, making you stifle a giggle whilst lowering into your own car.

|| || || ||

Pesky butterflies erupt within your chest when you finally pull over, the garage you so thankfully came across on your way to the motel stood conspicuously along the deserted highway. The garage door is shut this time around, the worn metal glinting under the aureate setting sun. However, the smaller door located at the side of the run-down building displays a twisted 'open' sign hanging behind the chalky window.

You've done it before, you can do it again. That's what you repeat to yourself inside your head as you hesitantly exit your car and approach the door. After a two minute standoff between your nervousness and the handle, you decide "fuck it!" and let yourself inside. You peer out from behind a brick wall separating the entrance from the main garage and it's nice, just like last time. Slow guitar and heavy bass emitting from what sounds like a vintage cassette boombox, the strong scent of gasoline and copper, fake potted plants hung up in every empty wall space unoccupied by shelves and posters, a huge dusty jeep... you can't see him though.

He's still here, you can hear a few faint grunts and the clanking of metal from beyond your place leant against the doorframe. You wonder, is he fixing some other girl's car? What if he isn't groaning for the reasons you think? The garage door is closed. Is somebody here with him? You're probably stupid for coming here after two days with no contact, he's most likely fallen for someone else thinking you would never come back. Subconscious curiosity leads you into the main room, fretful thoughts diminishing with no wall allowing your train of thought to stray from its tracks.

"Katsuki?-"

Your meek call of his name dies out on your tongue when the man himself emerges from behind the raised hood of the jeep with a "hm?". He's still as breathtaking as you remember, you reminisce about your last encounter whilst he's approaching you, his heavy booted feet seeming to send vibrations to your racing heart.

Your knees weaken when you realise the mechanic threw off putting a shirt on this time, specks of splattered oil glistening on his hard abs underneath the warm sunset rays filtering through the blinds. Forcing yourself to pay attention to his face instead of rudely ogling at his body, you come to find that he's secured his scruffy hair back with a clip, just like Uraraka, allowing you to view all of his features. He's been observing you for about a minute now, silently enjoying the way you're studying him as if he were a stone sculpture. Just give him a second, he'll say something eventually.

"Voice disappear or somethin'?" He asks cheekily, the sudden movement of a smirk emerging on his face breaking you out of whatever pesky trance you fell into.

"Oh! Uh, no! No, it's here! I can speak… yeah…" You spew a panicked sentence that would've been incoherent if you'd forced it out any harder. The anxious smile you’re wearing slowly fades as you start to chew on the inside of your cheek, nostrils flaring at how self aware you've become. Gosh, you're so stupid. Why can't you just speak like a normal person!? Stuttering and stumbling all over your words like this must look really sad. You hurl a mental slap at your face, scolding yourself for being so pathetic. Bakugo chuckles through his nose at your timid state and lightly scratches his bare stomach, deciding his next move. A big hand impulsively moves to your bare upper arm, mindlessly stroking your soft skin with his thumb for a short moment.

"Chill, it's just me. Stop acting like 'm gonna turn around and kill you." The man says casually with his usually downturned brows raised in amusement, removing his arm from you to take a few steps back and continue his work behind the jeep's hood. It's just him? JUST HIM? Being killed doesn't seem to be at the top of your list of worries right now, but the possibility increases as you're starting to picture your heart failing on the spot purely because of his existence. How are you supposed to "chill" when the sight of his broad, shiny, tanned, firm chest is enough to coax your eyes to roll back?!

You're thinking so damn hard about what to say as he's working, but nothing is good enough. Maybe you should leave and apologise, save your last ounce of self confidence. Maybe you should tell him the truth about your little anxiety issue. Nah, he wouldn't get it. Would he? Before you can stop yourself, a few words come tumbling out of your mouth to form the most unexpected question that leaves yourself dumbfounded.

"C-Can I kiss you?"

You stop breathing once Bakugo peers at you from behind the metal, mildly surprised and overwhelmed by your sudden request. That was fuckin' quick, he muses. Amidst a moment of fleeting courage, you will yourself to continue even if it's dizzying due to your heart beating a million miles per second.

"I’m sorry. I wanted to call you. Or at least— text you! I got so nervous and my friends all make fun of me whenever I talk to a guy so—"

"C'mere." The blonde gestures with his free hand while the other supports his leaning weight by pressing his palm upon the edge of the hood, spanner held tightly between his fingers. Now or never, you chant to occupy your brain. Head hanging low, you do as he says and come to a halt when only a few inches are left between your bare arm and his. Without another word to spare, Bakugo takes hold of your waist and veers your body to the tight space in front of him, caging you in. You fit underneath the metal canopy, the jeep's ginormous wheels providing some serious height. You're still staring intently at the dirty concrete area uncovered by either of your feet, unknowing of how to react.

The boombox in the corner of the room provides the only sound other than your ragged breathing, the music doing its best job to calm your nerves. You want this. You want this so bad, so don't fuck it up. Just move your damn head, that's it! Tears eventually cloud your vision, but before they can drip to the ground your chin is nudged upwards, letting the salty droplets slide down your heated cheeks. You're forced to look him in the eye whilst his heavy touch travels to the top of your muddled head, narrowed crimson gaze boring into your own, guilty and utterly captivated.

When he gently pulls you in by the nape of your neck, and his surprisingly soft lips make contact with yours... it's like all energy is drained from your body. As you kiss, you find your weakening form melting into his broad and hard chest, gradually tipping closer and closer until your bodies are pressed against one another's. Any thoughts previously occupying your mind have vanished without a trace, brain completely blank and depending entirely on the feeling of instinct. You're both sighing contently through your noses, each noise emitted from one has the other deepen the slanting of their mouth until a tinge of ferocity is thrown into the mix.

Your knees buckle abruptly at one point and breaks the kiss in a way that's too depriving of elation to bear, although Bakugo doesn't appear to care that much as he urgently hoists you up by your thighs to recklessly brush all the nuts and bolts strewn across his desk and replace them with your ass instead. A smile appears on the man's face when he catches your shoulders jerk at the reverberating clangour of metal hitting the floor. He situates himself further between your legs after making sure to shield the back of your head from the wall, worried that he'll hurt you with his ungentlemanly tendencies. His heavy breathing is causing your brows to bow in a state of pure bliss, the occasional grunt he sounds causing your jaw to go slack.

The amorous mechanic takes advantage of this and hungrily slips his tongue past your plumped lips to slither in tandem with yours for a while, evoking a muffled and greatly pleasured sob to escape into his mouth more than once, all of which he gladly engraves deep within his memory before yanking you forward by the waist once again, this time positioning your lower half close-packed and pressed to his hips. Bakugo is panting once he separates his face from yours, directing an avid ruby-red glance your way before lowering his head beside your neck.

The summer air is so hot, laced with the scent of diesel and unrivalled desire. Everything is surreal. The moody, crackly guitar in the background, the setting sun decorating the paint-splattered walls with strips of gold, the mess of blonde untamed locks you're tugging on brushing along the line of your jaw. His eagerness is evident with how rushed and sloppily his tongue glides across your skin, teeth providing harsh nibbles just under your ear and his lips hurriedly ghosting over any areas left untouched so he can suck on them hard enough to leave an instant bruise.

He's got his hands beneath your loose tank top, thick and skilled fingers splayed out and exploring every inch of your arching back. The hefty, warm touch backtracks to run over the goosebumps that had formed in its wake, sending intense shivers all throughout your limp form that have the muscles in his arms vibrate with your shaky movements. Venturing lower, Bakugo drags his palms all the way to your hips, almost drooling at how your soft flesh juts out the slightest bit above the hem of your denim shorts. He's acting hastily, like he's been set a deadline, moving to skim his thumbs over your ribs to the ticklish area below the cups of your bra.

Both of your bodies are rolling into each other now, sweat glazing the skin left uncovered by your clothes. The dim lamp and other miscellaneous items rocking back and forth on the desk struggle to stay upright or in place when every brusque, heedless motion of the mechanic's hips comes paired with the sheer power of desperation. Before you know it, he's fervently sucking on your tongue once more with a steel grip cupping the back of your bent knees, blunt nails digging in and making you uncontrollably exhale breathy whimpers that have his ears almost twitching to hear more.

Mixed saliva is coating your lips, an outcome of paying less attention to the kiss when your abdomen started to clench with anticipation. Confidence still a bit on the wobbly side, you take his bottom lip in your teeth and lightly tug on it as you pull away for breath, earning a pleased, sexy open-mouthed groan from Bakugo. Neither of you have opened your eyes in a while, much too focused on experiencing every overwhelmingly delectable feeling as they come. Jaws too tired to close your mouths, the taller man decides to give a harder thrust of his lower half and revels in the little gasps you reward him with, the growing bulge filling the space between your plush thighs gyrating into your pulsing core just right.

Long fingers abruptly spread out over your bra, opting for a quick squeeze before eagerly unhooking the clasp and greedily taking a handful of your bare tits from underneath the loosened cups. It seems he can't be bothered to seductively throw it to the ground like in the movie scenes Uraraka forced you to watch on YouTube earlier. And yet I prefer that, you smile to yourself and let out an erotic moan when your excited mechanic's huge palms rub your nipples. The sudden stimulation coaxes your inner walls to aimlessly contract, as if they're yearning to clench around the hardening, clothed length relentlessly grinding on you. His teeth return to the marked surface of your neck.

The steady speed and strength Bakugo infuses his thrusts with is impressive and you would probably be wondering how he hasn't wasted all of his energy if his hard-on wasn't consistently nudging the thick material of your shorts into your clit, the pressure so perfect it's dangerously close to maddening. The swollen bud throbs urgently at the sensation, a warning which you take notice of a mere second too late. The loud, repetitive knocking of wood swiftly being forced into solid bricks only serves to pull on the knot within your abdomen until only a single fraying thread remains intact. Not for long though, all it takes is simply a short and gruff "fuck" from the focused mans chest to snap it.

"Nnnguh!" your muscles tense instantly as you abruptly cry out, barely managing to yank him in further with the heels of your sneakers pushing at his ass. Bakugo hurriedly opens his eyes, vision blurred a bit when he moves to watch your features scrunch up under the control of absolute ecstasy. Although he's pleasantly surprised by your sudden release, his hips keep moving under the greedy pressure of your feet. Soon enough, your facial expression morphs into one of wide glossy eyes and quivering lips following the slow disappearance of your orgasm. He's smitten, without a doubt. Looking down at you like you're the one he's been looking for all his life, almost melancholic with the unmistakeable glint of rapture prominent in the pretty red rings of his gaze.

"Jesus, what brought that on?" he teases with raised, bushy brows. Ready for an embarrassed excuse, one that he'll remember forever. You’re out of breath already, one orgasm enough to render you far gone, too far gone to watch your words. You see the way he’s looking at you all expectantly, waiting for a reason to pick on you and make you burn up. If he wants an answer, he can have one.

"You, you did." your response has the mechanic blushing like a mad man, the three words prompting a sudden few drops of pre-cum to leak into the fabric of his underwear. Acting as nonchalantly as possible, Bakugo clears his throat and straightens his slumped posture with a try hard grin.

"That so." His voice is a smidge softer than before as he contemplates ripping off your clothes and going at you right then and there. The soggy feeling of his boxers rubbing against the sensitive tip of his cock serves as a reminder. A reminder that he's not the type to hold back when he's inside. ...Alright, he'll wait for you, just let him wash away the oily mess painting his hands first. Hastily propping you up so that you don’t fall, he orders you a quick "sit" then rushes to the sink stationed opposite from you.

You scoff at your own impatience whilst you're unbuttoning the shorts hugging your waist, something that Bakugo catches on his way back to you. "Someone's excited," he murmurs like it's second nature and gestures to you with dripping hands. "Take em' off for me."

Choosing to let his attitude slide, you obey willingly. You hardly get to finish removing the denim before your mechanic is pouncing on you akin to a wildcat, bared fangs hovering just below your navel then hungrily clamping down on the lacy material of your panties. It's fucking delicious, the manner in which the man prises the lace waistband away to release it unexpectedly, letting it snap upon the hypersensitive skin with an addictive sting. A devilish smile plays on the man's lips, the adorable sounds you bless him with doing nothing to lessen the discomfort between his legs.

Taking your underwear in his teeth again, he repeats his last actions. However, the stretching fabric doesn’t make contact with your abdomen this time around, instead they're being dragged just below your knees. Ah, you see. Your restricting panties leave enough space for his head to fit between your thighs, but they don't allow you to spread them any further. Swollen clit pulsing, you grip the edge of the desk tighter with anticipation as Bakugo lifts your legs to situate himself underneath and rests them on his broad shoulders.

"Hngh, please please please~" you whine for him whilst twirling strands of his hair with antsy hands. A genuine laugh from the mechanic blows a few puffs of cool air directly over your pussy and the abrupt change in temperature has your body rolling closer in hopes that his mouth will bring more heat. His fingers are still wet with water as they refrain from touching the top of your thighs, the droplets cooling your skin when they land.

"Gah—!" a pathetic, surprised gasp evoked from you makes the blonde's heart melt into a puddle. Did you think he was going to warn you with a sweet kitten lick? Who do you think he is? Of course he'd start with a harsh suck on your clit. Your grip loosens in Bakugo's locks when he opts to suck and flick his tongue simultaneously, the seemingly endless flow of pleasure sending your body into an exhausted state almost straight away. "K-Katsuki, Katsuki— mnnghWAit!"

Finally, his skilled mouth detaches from your overwhelmed bud with a muted pop and you can take a deep breath. So it looks like having your legs forced to remain in a relaxed position heightens the effects. You're mind-blown, nobody's ever done something so confidently, so assertively to you before. If he had continued whatever that was then you might've…

"Too much f'you? Shorry shweetheart," the muscular fiend muffling apologies beneath you is still gliding his tongue over your saturated entrance, swallowing greedily and peering into your fucking soul with those ruby eyes. "Mnnbut you shoulda known, m'nothing like anything you've ever had before…"

Without a second's notice, Bakugo easily slides his dripping middle finger inside of you, a hot and amused laugh vibrating through you due to his face still being pressed into your throbbing cunt. "Sho eashily…" you hear him comment. You're squirming with every movement he makes, the digit creating pressure within your contracting walls coaxing animalistic moans from your chest that even you don't recognise. It's when his eager tongue begins to lap relentlessly at your clit too that your focus wavers, poor brain trying to acknowledge everything at once. Eventually, the euphoria has you doubled over with your mind seeing nothing but crimson stars studying you from between a pair of weak legs.

"Good girl, yeah yeah yeah," the blonde praises whilst savouring the view above, his jolting cock demanding for him to push three fingers inside just to hurry things up. "So f’ckin tasty and wet for me, think you can take three fingers?" he asks lowly, almost states it. You nod rapidly, barely in the know of what you're agreeing to but you get the gist. It's slightly embarrassing how his thick fingers slide in without an issue, though it doesn't look as if Bakugo has anything to say. Instead, he's elated. If only you could see how rock hard he is right now in this moment, how much of an effect you have on his body. If his dick could get any bigger it would tear a damn hole in his clothes!

"Like you were goddamn made for it." he confirms to himself and nuzzles his face further.

Twisting, turning, tapping, your horny mechanic bullies your narrowing inner walls with his heavy touch. You're holding your breath again, you can't even help it with how insanely good he's making you feel and he's not even inside you yet. The mere thought of his cock draws a long, somewhat frustrated groan from your throat, voice cracking softly when his plumped lips close over your heated pussy to suck on your overstimulated clit once more. On cue, your mouth opens in a silent scream before the words can come out prepared.

"Katsuki! Too, huh, good! I-I think—" you try to warn him as best as you can in such a state but Bakugo proceeds to dart his tongue, coated heavily with your sweet arousal, back and forth over the sore bud until you're clenching on his fingers so much that he can't move them. "Hhhhhoh my god! Again-n! M'cumming!"

And with that, the man between your thighs swiftly withdrawals to stick his tongue out and carelessly skim the convulsing bundle of nerves by shaking his head. Somehow the mechanic expected the clear liquid to come spraying from your sopping cunt, he'd just prepared himself and you saw it. Your body is tensing in ways you've never experienced in your entire life as your juices hit the concrete with an obscene splat. The fact that you're squirting everywhere is shocking enough, but the fact that the man who's face you're currently cumming on already knew exactly how to make it happen...

Your walls are vicelike around nothing as Bakugo savours the flavour present on the tip of his tongue, the fading end of your release enhancing the emptines within. Did he do that on purpose too? To keep you wanting more? Your widened eyes immediately search to be met with his own narrowed and lust-tainted leer, and then you realise something. This guy really does know what he's doing, so much so that you're almost scared by how good you feel. His head certainly would've been crushed if you hadn't tried to keep your legs open. After retreating from his spot in front of you, the mechanic mutters a "let's get these fuckin' things outta my way" breathlessly and proceeds to rid of your cute panties. Your cunt drools arousal as he dangles them in your face, giving his wrist a little twirl before pretending to throw them to the ground. Little do you know, they're actually stuffed nice and cozy in his pocket. How sneaky.

"Need you…" whispering sweetly once he's stood before you again, you reach over slightly to cup his clothed and ever-hardening length. The low-key gasp that's sucked past the burly man’s lips is then exhaled as a deep "ah", the forceful back and forth motion of your palm causing him to feel as if his spirit is about to ascend to fucking cloud nine and beyond.

"Need me, hah?" he asks rhetorically. You don't stop as he's soon hurrying to unbuckle the belt looped around his waist, in fact his visible determination has your blood sparking with newfound energy. A kind of energy that influences the muscles in your legs to feel unused, begging you to ride him until they give out. Bakugo is moments away from letting his leaky cock breathe, finally able to free himself from the painfully claustrophobic material that is his underwear after removing the first layer—

"Wait, wait, in the car... can we? In the back sea-"

The sound of a car door opening hardly registers and you're being thrown playfully into the velvety backseat of a spacious jeep before you can even finish your question. Luckily, you're given a mere few seconds to reposition yourself until the unruly blonde sits beside you, bare legs spread to make room for one hand lazily grabbing and shaking the base of his hard-on beneath damp fabric. Observing his current state, your half lidded eyes are drawn to his shiny pink tip poking out from under the soaked cotton briefs you so badly wish to yank down. It's swollen, trying to jolt whilst being pressed into his abdomen and causing even more cloudy, sticky pre to droop in a string of small beads. The desperate mechanic is also watching with bowed brows, eventually turning his head to you as if to silently plead, simultaneously lifting his ass up to fidget halfway out of his underwear.

Holy shit, he's big. You knew he was big, but… he's big. And veiny. His huge fingers wrap around his bare member for a second time, influencing him to throw his head back and toy with himself. You’re stunned for a good moment, zero thoughts as you play witness to Bakugo’s solo pleasure. You hadn't seen his features contort in such a manner before, as his face had been hidden from your eyes whenever they were open. He's got this look about him right now, like he's totally losing himself in rapture for you. Mesmerising, truly. Those rock solid abs rise and fall at quite a fast pace, you shouldn't keep him waiting but… This guy is fucking delicious, you could just lick him right now. You bet even the sweat coating his face in a pretty shine tastes like salted caramel. You want a taste. Without hesitation, you straddle the man's lap, a firm grip stationed on his shoulders with his cock bobbing involuntarily into your puffy clit. Daringly, you grab him by the chin to lick a clean, wet stripe along his pink cheek.

Such a salacious action offers no small reward, you realise this when a clenched fist in your hair pulls you back just enough to have your noses bumping into one another, a dangerous growl fleeing from behind gritted teeth, straight from the tasty mechanic's dick rather than his brain. You're rather puzzled as he slowly ghosts his mouth over your own, until he speaks.

"M'I okay to rough you up a little? Hm?" Voice gravelly and deeply smooth enough to have your head spinning, he asks impatiently and narrow-eyed. You're most likely getting yourself into some kind of trouble judging by the sheer size of him, but how can you say no to something so utterly passion stoked? Answering with a simple nod and another teasing lick over those talented, wetted lips of his, you lower your already bucking hips. It burns, it fucking burns. Yet it's intoxicating. How odd for such a searing pain to have you wishing time would stop. Whimpering and grimacing, you've just about managed to fit half of his length past your soaking entrance.

"Want me t' rough my pretty baby up in the backseat?" He's asking you rhetorically, almost tauntingly, though somehow there's more than a hint of soothing behind his words. "Take it easy, baby. That's it…" he's being so gentle with his tone, breathing shaky as he memorises every damn detail of the view in front of him.

Fuck, it's stretching you out so much! The slippery, warm tip is squished between your succulent inner walls, gradually nudging them further apart to accommodate more with the shallow rise and dip of your body. "Hngh... fuck— nngh!" your pained grunts and contracting around him both have Bakugo digging his front teeth into his tender lower lip, ruby gaze tracking a lone drop of sweat trickling down your temple. Hyper-aware of your existence, of the velvety soft ridges massaging his length, a subtle smile enhances the shamefully mushy blonde's features and a thumb swipes the rolling droplet from your face.

With every inch nearly a struggle to slide past your tender, wet entrance, the longer and less frequent your trepidatious gasps for air grow. It's the pure fervour dancing in the depths of your abdomen to blame for your lack of air intake, for this overwhelming lightheadedness that makes you feel as if you might just pass out on your mechanic's fat dick. Then it becomes apparent, you've been so focused on easing the pain that the rapturous inferno spreading within yourself has been stealing your breath away. A flustered giggle is pulled from you when Bakugo cracks a stupid joke regarding your breathing pattern.

"Damn, I knew- ah, shit..." he shudders when the sensitive head of his cock reaches deeper parts of you, canines chattering together with a moan before carrying on. "I knew I was hot, but fucking breathe, heheh..."

However, your embarrassed grin flickers in the presence of intense enjoyment as you sense your frame succumbing to the man's increasing touch located at your sides. Rough hands are guiding your hips from their ongoing gentle bob to a faster, shorter and heavier bounce. This new movement finally drives the remaining inches of the mechanic's length inside of you, the harsh impact producing a pornographic splurt to sound as your arousal caves into the building pressure and escapes from your throbbing, stretching entrance.

"GAH—!"

"Oh-hohoooooh, baby..."

He doesn't stop there, either. The back of your thighs smack upon the top of his own, the lewd noises increasing in volume every time Bakugo lifts himself up to brutally slam you back down simultaneously. Strings of your slick connect to his sticky skin, linking the both of you together like some filthy double meaning in a movie. Your insides experience a sinfully pleasing ache with the continuous and vigorous moving, the way he's ramming in and out so fucking fast and rough and perfectly— God, there's absolutely no way that you can delay another orgasm like this, no chance in hell. How are you even supposed to function right now when his cock is so amazingly able to stimulate your over-sensitive clit from the inside?

"Ka-a-at'ski-i~" your near sing-song-ish moan of his name is prolonged by the drag and drop of your weight. It's the whiniest shit he's ever heard, the wavering of your wobbly voice positively addictive to the unruly mechanic.

"I can't stop, can't stop it!" a hurried, raspy whisper into his pink-tinged ear indicates the unstoppable approach of another brain-melting orgasm on your end, and Bakugo really can't help himself from pistoning his long dick as deep as your spasming cunt will allow before the involuntary push of the juicy walls clamping over him can render you empty again. This is the hardest one yet, this time causing your form to lock up as soon as your palms caress the prickly stubble on the blonde's jaw. He's fucking delighted, peeking up at your distressed features from beneath your weak hold. It's so adorable, how you can barely handle the pleasure he's gladly supplying you with, slutty little body already so drunk on sex.

"Ugh-huh! Plea—easeeee," you cry out and impulsively bring the mechanic's head forward to bury your sobs and babbles into his natural, soft spikes. "Mmnn- please, so good..."

He notices that you're not fidgeting anymore. Instead, you've been ultimately paralysed by ecstasy. Your back arched and your trembling thighs raised, needy body in prime position to just fucking take it. You're doing exactly that, perky tits jolting into his chin whilst you let him pound your sweet pussy however he wants. Narrow eyes rolling back, a husky moan breaks the hold of his lips. There's no need to see your face to know how far gone you are, but just in case, Bakugo checks in with a dirty laugh and an utterly sexual "don't even know whatcha' beggin' for, do ya?"

Hardly capable of a simple yes or no, you can only respond with a long, broken hum into his tear-dampened hair. Fuuuuck, the car is rocking with the man's thrusts and it has the act of jutting his hips upward becoming so much easier. After a short moment of sucking on one of your pebbled nipples to have you squeezing his length, he decides a slight change needs to be made before he can cum. Without warning, Bakugo hastily manhandles you so that you're facing away from him with your lolling head leaning upon the headrest in front of you, arms around the seat and gripping on for dear life.

The musky, intimate scent of sex has an incredibly intoxicating effect, neither of you able to get enough of the lusty, hot air filling the vehicle. It influences the mechanic to ram his cock in you once again, but this time he doesn't pull back, choosing to drag you into his broad, glistening chest and guide your tired hips to gyrate in his lap. You're absolutely fucking destroyed down there, he notes pridefully when he lets his fingers slip back and forth over your numbing clit. At this point, you can only feel the pleasure his fingers are bringing you, rather than his actual digits themselves. Your mind is completely de-railed, train of thought tipped over onto its damn side. This guy is literally going to fuck your brains out!

"Keep goin', gorgeous. M' almost there," Bakugo groans whilst one of his hands trails to your throat. He can feel his dick stirring within your tight cunt, he can feel your entrance squeezing the base as your walls attempt to milk him for all he's worth. To be honest, hes lost count of your orgasms. You have, that's for sure. In fact, he doesn't think you could count to 3 right now, even if you tried your hardest. Let's make that 2, he muses to himself just as your clit starts to pulse beneath his dangerously intense touch.

"Ka... Kat'ski..." you mumble through the pressure situated under your jawbone, unable to keep your head from falling back into the crook of his neck with a silent scream. The contracting of your mellow insides circling his blunt tip has the tense mechanic blurting:

"Cum for me, baby. C-cum f'me, m'gonna cum for you too, n'kay?"

Another splash of clear liquid is sprayed from between your legs as soon as Bakugo's words register, his endless rocking and thick fingers creating gaps in stream which only makes everything that much messier. You're still in the end throes of your release when the man behind you loses control of the curses previously sat at the tip of his tongue, all of them falling from his quivering mouth within a matter of seconds.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck— cuh—! Cumming!" he strains into your tangled hair, the hold around your throat gradually tightening with each forceful spurt of white from his jumping cock. Hips bucking lightly during the fading continuation of his orgasm, the brawny man removes his hand from your neck, allowing you to inhale a deep breath.

Then.

Reality kicks in.

Full throttle.

"Oh my fucking god. We need to fuckin' get out."

Slowly coming to your senses, you angle your tired head to peer at your mechanic who seems to be troubled.

"Why's that?" you question and kiss his flushed cheek, face plastered with cute curiosity. However, that cute curiosity is quickly replaced with utmost panic when Bakugo doesn't reply, instead observing the mess surrounding the two of you. "Shit! This is..."

Izuku's fucking jeep.

|| || || ||

Hours pass, all spent scrubbing the entirety of the jeep's backseat area. You'd prefer not to remember the chosen method of exiting the vehicle whilst being impaled and full of cum, although it was pretty hilarious at the time. Oh, right now? Right now you're on a stealth mission, currently waiting for Bakugo to signal your leave with obvious hand gestures whilst Izuku asks about his car. Hm... you feel like you're forgetting something— Woah, shit! He's signalling, okay. Refraining from letting a giggle escape at the blonde's tight-lipped and wide eyed expression, you sneak out from behind his childhood friend and quietly leave the building.

"So it's all good now?" Izuku pats the hood of his jeep, emerald eyes eager for his answer.

"Mm, yup. Stay there a sec while I go get your keys, loser."

You're on your way to your own car, still wondering if maybe you'd left something back there when Bakugo appears from behind the door in the corner of your vision. Spinning on your heels, you tilt your head at the cocky smirk he's blessing you with. You're confused, until you clock him dangling your lacy panties on one finger.

'Wh— HEY!' you mouth at him with a frown of disbelief. So that's what you were forgetting! You're about to storm right back over there, but the manner in which the blonde peers over his shoulder with an awkward face tells you that Izuku's waiting patiently. He doesn't mouth anything back to you, just opts to blow you a mischievous kiss, a kiss that he plants on the fabric of your panties, before cheekily shutting the door on you.

"Unbelievable." your hands flail around as you murmur with an amused smile. Guess you'll have to come back for those.

|| || || ||

Taglist :

@artdumpsstuff @endlessfreaky @passionateuchiha

#bakugou smut #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha #mha smut #mha bakugou #my hero x reader #my hero acedamia

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sweet-lover-girl · 1 year

Note

abby best friend forever🤞🏻 looking directly at abby's thighs -growing even bigger against the couch- with her big doe eyes "can i hump your thigh as a friend?~♡"

Ooooo okay!

You and your best friend Abby, where sitting in her room that was thankfully void of her roommate Manny, as he was on a two day trip helping train new recruits. Now you loved Manny, but sometimes it was nice just to hangout with Abby.

You both decided it would be a good idea to get high, Abby knew Manny had made edibles and knew where he hid them, so she got some and now you two were happily stoned after such a long day of patrolling.

Though you are starting to regret getting high, because every time you get high—you get horny. God damnit, you cursed in your mind. You couldn’t stop looking at Abby’s thighs, you grew up with her and the Salt Lake Crew. So you got to watch her grow and build her muscles and confidence up over the years—and you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t have a big ass crush on her.

“What’s up?” You heard her say in a husky voice, making you squeeze your thighs together and squirm in your sit on the little couch you both were sat on currently.

You hadn’t realized, but your gaze was just fixed on her meaty, muscular thighs—imagining what it would be like to grind against them. Fuck, now is not the time to be horny. You cursed yourself again.

Abby began to flex and bounced her leg gently to a slow rhythm, every time she would bounce her leg, her muscles would flex sinfully; making your face flush.

Abby noticed your starting—you weren’t being very subtle about, she grinned as she watched you watching her, staring at her thighs. She was manspreading and had her arms across the back of the couch, sitting lazily, relaxing—enjoying the attention you were giving her. She worked hard to make her body look this good, so she loved the attention.

You’ve never been sexual with anyone before but you always found yourself fantasizing having sex with Abby—which you felt bad about because, you know, she was your best friend and best friends don’t think about each other like that..right?

Abby sighed, realizing you were gonna need some encouragement. She knew what you wanted, she knew you were fantasizing about her somehow—someway.

“Do you want something baby?”

Well shit, you liked how that sounded, those words coming from her pouty lips, and the fact that it was directed at you no less.

You giggle and rubbed your hand on your cheek, trying to get rid of those pesky, naughty thoughts. They just won’t go away though, you want her so bad it hurt.

“I mean—yeah I want something, but it—it’s not right to ask it of you..”

She reached over to and grasped your jaw in her large warm hand, forcing you to look her in the eyes and said in a voice two octaves lower,”Tell me anyways.”

You sat there looking at her in a daze, your hazy mind from the weed making you feel dizzy and slow. You knew this was nothing but trouble, getting high with her, because you can never keep your mouth fucking shut.

“Can I hump your thigh—a-as a friend of course!”

You say quickly, wishing you could automatically take it back and bury yourself. Fuck, why did you say that?!

As if saying, ‘As a friend,’ makes it any better!

Abby stared at your glassy doe like eyes, they were round and shiny, she could see panic starting to set in the longer she stays quite. To be honest the request didn’t surprise her, she knew you liked her—and she liked you, but she liked the pace you two were going at right now so that’s why she hasn’t asked you out yet. She liked taking it slow, for now.

She grinned, her eyes held a wicked look to them, the beautiful blue being absorbed by her black pupils.

Letting go of your jaw, she leaned back against the couch and said,”Well come here then.”

You didn’t expect her to say yes, you just stared at her for a minute before shaking you head and scrambling over to her, throwing your leg over hers so you clothes cunt rested in her thick thigh.

“J-just as friends..” You stuttered as you place you hands on her broad shoulders.

She smirked,”Right,” placing her hands on your waist and pulled you in close, so close your lips almost touched—making you let out a quite gasp.

“Just as friends.”

Her grip on your waist suddenly got tighter as she pulled your hips against her thigh—making you moan out loudly, slamming your hand over your mouth as you snap your eyes shut with embarrassment. You could feel the heat on your cheeks spread as you hear Abby chuckle lowly.

“Feel good baby?”

You tremble as she calls you baby once more, making you nod your head, eyes still closed and mouth still covered.

“Good,” Abby said letting go of your waist to grab your hand, pulling it away from you mouth - she looked you in the eyes and whispered,”Don’t hide from me, I wanna hear every sound.”

You groan as she lets go of your wrist and places hers back on your waist to pull you against her thigh again.

“Grind on me baby.” Abby said, her nails digging into your hips.

You place you hand back on her shoulder and look her in the eye before grounding your cunt against her thigh, the grind of your wet panties and her cargo pants felt amazing on your pussy.

You let out a moan as your hips develop a mind of their own and start to grind faster against her, making her chuckle at your eagerness.

“There you go love, just like that.” Abby praised you.

“Feels good huh?”

You didn’t even answer her question, to focused on grinding against her thigh - you knew you wouldn’t, but you hoped you would leave a wet mark on her thigh, almost claiming and saying, you were there, that her thigh was your spot to sit on and grind against.

You grounded against her like you would your pillow in your room, fast and rough. You were panting slightly and your legs shaking a little from the exertion you were putting them trough.

Abby was mesmerized by the way you looked—faced flushed red with slight sweat on your forehead for the heat of the summer time, and from grinding on her. Clothes messy and rumpled, eyes closed as you fall into a nice pace you set for yourself.

“There you go baby, just like that.” Abby whispers again as she lifted her right hand up to the back of your neck, making you open your eyes to look at her. Your pupils blow and eyes watery from pleasure.

Abby could feel you slowing down, getting a little tired, so she helped get you closer to your blissful end by bouncing her leg up and down—bumping her thick thigh against your clit making you cry out.

As she did this you continued to grind on her, you had slipped a little so now your cunt was closer to her hard kneecap, the hardness of it felt amazing making you stop for a second as you tremble. Leaning you head against Abby’s shoulder you felt yourself getting so close to the edge—just a little more.

Abby seemed to know just want you needed as she let go of your neck and placed her hand back in your hip—using her strength to her advantage, she pushed your hips down and forwards, over and over against, back and forth. She kept your hips down and your cunt pushed hard against her leg, helping you.

“Fuck!” You yelled out, wrapping you arms around her neck as you felt yourself about to cum.

“Fuck ‘m gonna cum Abs,” You said into her shoulder.

“Then fucking cum.”

That was enough to push you over the edge. You moan out as you bounce you hips up and down on her leg, ridding your orgasm out, then grinded against her once more as you came down, placing a gentle kiss on her neck—so gentle Abby almost didn’t feel it.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around you, holding you close to her as you came off your high, with the weed still in your system and post orgasm, you were now pretty tired—Abby knew that, she could feel how your body just slumped against hers and your breathing evened out. She began to pat your back, rubbing it as you fell asleep in her lap.

“Yeah, just as friends.” She scoffed with a grin as she closed her eyes and relaxed.

———

Aaaannnyyyways sorry if this sucked, I’m at work as I replied to this.😅

I hope you like it though!

This was meant to be a small blurb buuut..

#abby anderson #abby anderson/reader #wlw #lovely people #abby anderson x reader #anon ask #abby anderson x you #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson/you #abby anderson x female reader #Abby Anderson Blurbs

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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months

Note

I feel like 27 would fit with Javi eating osita for as long as they could, pretty please 🙏

RAHHHHHHH Omfg okay y'all are making me FERAL 😭🥵 I kind of changed it a little bit, I hope that's okay!!!

Not Yet

Summary: There's few things Javi likes more than seeing you all worked up (this is porn w not plot I am not sorry)

Word Count: 660 (Who am I?)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), praise kink, teasing, kind of dom-ish Javi (???)

A/N: I CAN'T STOP WITH THESE REQUESTS YOU GUYS ARE MAKING ME CLAW AT THE WALLS!!!! Okay this will probably be the last one for tonight this was much needed after the long ass day I had

Can be read alone or as part of the Never Too Late Series

Part of the 500 Followers Celebration requests!!

“Javi, pleaseeee…” You whimpered, your voice trembling as Javi placed another painfully slow kiss on the inside of your thigh. He had been at this for over 10 minutes, doing nothing but running his hands along you, peppering every inch of your body with hot, wet kisses as you laid spread out beneath him. At this point, you were writhing under him, desperate for him to do anything besides tease you the way he was, leaving you feverishly worked up and craving him. This had been the first time that you were desperate for Javier Peña to stop kissing you, and put his hands and mouth to work elsewhere.

But you knew that was exactly what he wanted.

If there was anything you wanted, in or out of the bedroom, Javi would do his best to give it to you without a second thought. But there were times like these where seeing just how badly you needed him made him absolutely feral. Something about the way he knew he was the only one who made you feel like this did something to him, and every once in a while, he just couldn’t help but play into it.

He sat back on his knees, a smirk growing on his face as he took every inch of you in- Your sweet moans, the soft curves of your naked body, the way that he hadn’t even touched you yet and the slick pooling in between your legs was drenching your thighs, the fact that you were his. Javi soaked it all in for one more moment, ready to give in to what you had been begging for, but not before just a little more fun.

“Hmmmm, but I think I like having you spread out like this. Such a gorgeous sight. Haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked. Need to take a moment to look at the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, all wet, just for me.” He tutted, making you grasp at the bed sheets as your head shot up at him.

“Javiiiii, for the love of GOD, will you just touch me?” You whined, growing impatient with how drawn out Javi’s antics had become. Suddenly, he leaned over you, grabbing both your hands, holding you by the wrists above your head as he sucked at your pulse point, rasping into your ear.

“That’s no way to ask for what you want, Osita. Ask nicely and maybe I’ll give it to you.” His voice was low and husk, making you shutter as he held you in place, caging his chest against yours.

“Please…” You moaned as he nipped at your ear, grinning as he pulled away.

“Please, what? Be a good girl and use your manners for me.” If you weren’t so desperate, you would have slapped that damn smirk off his face for how badly he had been torturing you, but you would be lying if said that this man’s words did something to you in a way that made you even wetter than the drenched mess you already were.

“Please Javi, I need you to touch me, fuck me, anything, I need you so bad.” You whimpered as felt one of his hands free, pressing his palm against your skin as it slid down your body.

“There you go, sweet girl. Don’t worry, hermosa, I’ll give you everything you need baby.” His second hand followed his first, snaking along the softness of your skin, shifting himself so his arms hooked beneath your legs, his face inches away from your dripping heat. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your cunt, pausing for a moment before lifting his head back up to look at you, a devilish grin growing across his face. “I’ll give you whatever you want, pretty girl, because who’s pussy is this?”

“It’s yours Javi. Fuck, it’s all yours.” You whined as his fingers grasped into the meat of your tights, your jaw going slack as you gave you a quick wink before dipping his head between your legs.

“You’re fucking right, it is.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana@rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85@partyofone3413@harriedandharassed

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laura1633 · 2 months

Note

I love your two latest bottom charles you've just posted so much. It brightens up my day unexpectedly from the disastrous race yesterday. If you'd like to share more about bottom charles (he's so cute i'm gonna melt) please don't hesitate! I'll be the one who always read and cheer for you ❤️ but if you don't have more things to share atm it's just fine. I just wanna say thank you to you 🥹

Aww thank you so much anon, that is lovely ♥️ I have some bottom Charles stories planned that will be written soon. For now I have written a very short little drabble below of sleepy Charles.

“What is wrong?” Max looks away from the television and towards Charles as he hears the Monegasque shuffling into the room.

“You weren’t in bed” Charles pouts and rubs at his eyes. It’s still early, far earlier than Max would normally get up but his phone had gone off and he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. He actually thought he was doing Charles a favour by leaving him alone to sleep, if he hadn’t have gotten up out of bed he would have struggled to keep his hands to himself. Especially when Charles was naked and all tangled up in the sheets looking adorable.

“Sorry baby” Max smiles as he sees how tired Charles still is, the Monegasque’s eyes are barely open and he’s trying to stretch his muscles out but his limbs don’t seem to be very coordinated, “Did you need me?”

“Yes” Charles breathes out as he clambers on to Max’s lap and immediately grinds down against the Dutchman’s cock, “I need more sleep but …” Charles trails off and doesn’t bother fully verbalising what he wants and in truth Max doesn’t need him to. The Dutch driver awkwardly tries to shimmy out his boxers whilst Charles clings hold of him tightly

“I need to open you up first though” Max strokes his hand up and down Charles’ spine slowly.

“Already did it” Charles smiles lazily, “You can check”

Max’s hand wanders down to Charles' ass and he realises Charles definitely wasn’t lying. He’s covered in lubricant, clearly not concerned with getting a little messy in his haste to get himself all nice and prepared.

“You did good” Max hums as he circles around Charles’ rim and feels the way the muscles have loosened off a little, just enough for him to feel the gape. It probably didn't take much work seen as they only had sex a few hours ago, “You want to get me ready too?”

Charles mumbles something incomprehensible in French but before Max can ask him to repeat himself Charles is reaching out and stroking the Dutchman’s cock to hardness.

“Thank you” Max smiles and presses a kiss against Charles’ nose. The Monegasque can be quite feisty a lot of the time but when he’s sleepy he is content to do what Max asks and keens softly whenever the Dutchman praises him.

“Come on then” Max grips one hand around Charles’ waist and the other hand around his own cock as he lines himself up. Charles wiggles his way down slowly, moaning happily as he does so until his ass is flush against Max’s thighs.

“Is that better baby? Is that what you needed to feel good?” Max soothes as he takes in the sight of Charles' rosy red cheeks and fluttering eyes.

“Yes” Charles gives a lopsided smile and and then breathes out a happy sigh as he settles down on Max’s cock and rests against the Dutchman’s body, “Thank you”

“You get some more rest then” Max coos as he grips hold of Charles’ hips and draws tiny little circles against the Monegasque’s skin with his thumbs. The nice rhythmic movement seems to settle Charles down quickly.

Max has no idea how long Charles will be able to keep still. Sometimes the Monegasque won’t last more than a few minutes before he is overcome with the need to start rocking back and forth or bouncing up and down. Sometimes he shows more restraint, gets a little nap in whilst Max remains buried inside him. Today looks like a sleepy day so Max lowers the volume on the television and sits back and relaxes as Charles falls asleep with his boyfriend’s cock pushed up inside him keeping him nice and full.

#Lestappen #lestappen fanfic #anon asks

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milaswriting · 9 months

Text

Teasing Firsts

⇢ you, B, banter & a first date.

Happy birthday to my darling B! I’ve never loved another werewolf more <3 and thanks so much for being my comfort character asdfghjkl.

I wrote this whilst travelling back home from the Netherlands, so I hope you enjoy it.

B’s cool, calm and carefree approach to many things in life is something they’re always commended for. Their heart of gold, their lack of anxiety, their ability to put others at ease amongst a load of other things.

So, the simple concept of a date with you shouldn’t make them feel so on edge. But it does. B remembers casually asking you out, with a smile on their face and a hammering heart — they almost talked themselves out of asking. Prepared to hear a rejection and console themselves afterwards, but that never came.

Instead, after a confident leap, you said yes without hesitation.

And they’re thankful. Truly. B’s excited, there’s a skip in their step. But the nerves are bubbling. It can be shown by the state of their bedroom. Their wardrobe is all over it. Literally.

Shirts. Trousers. Gold jewellery. Sunglasses. It’s as though their bed isn’t even visible under it all.

Standing shirtless, B gazes at the mess around them before clicking their tongue. “Shit then,” they murmur, and their thoughts would still be on their outfit if their phone hadn’t started ringing.

They scramble to it, all whilst flinging a pair of socks over their shoulder.

“Hello,” B says after swiping across.

“Hi,” you reply in a cheerful tone.

You.

B can’t help but let a smile press across their lips. “Hi,” they reiterate before pulling the phone from their ear and checking the time. They haven’t got long at all. In fact, they’re running late.

Fuck.

“I’m almost ready,” they say, their tone of voice a little more high-pitched.

“Uh-huh,” you utter back with a laugh. “Try again, B,” you add with a smile.

They raise a brow. “Should I be concerned that you picked up on that so quickly?”

You snort. “Maybe I just know you so well,” you murmur before positioning yourself to feel more comfortable. “So what’s up?”

B clears their throat and takes a seat at the edge of their bed. “I just don’t know what to wear.”

“Hm, we’re going out to eat, so something casual,” you say. “Whatever you usually wear. The two of us have been out before.”

B taps the speaker button on their phone. “But we haven’t been on a date before.” They inhale a short breath, wondering whether they’ve misread this whole thing and this isn’t a date at all.

“True,” you say, your voice ringing out in B’s bedroom. “But that makes our date, and future ones, exciting.”

B smirks. “Oh, future dates?”

“If you play your cards right,” you utter, and B can hear the teasing smile in your voice. “But, seriously, you look good in everything.”

B stands and picks up a necklace before wrapping their fingers around it. “Throwing out compliments before our date’s even started, aren’t I lucky?”

“Of course you are,” you say confidently. “You’re about to go out with me.”

B nods. “I can’t deny that.” Their words trail off as they glance at their hopeful outfit. “Are you ready?”

“Why? Are you trying to colour coordinate?”

“Are you into that?” B banters back, genuinely curious about your answer.

“I’m into you,” you utter quickly.

“Oo, very smooth. I’m rubbing off on you.” A little laugh escapes B but they’d be lying if they said your teasing phrase wasn’t music to their ears. “I think I’ve found an outfit.”

“You have?” you ask. “Go on, FaceTime me and show me.”

They begin to slip on their shirt. “Where’s the fun in that? You know I like to compliment you when I’m looking at you.” B pauses. “And before you say the smart-ass thing like, ‘it’s FaceTime, you will be looking at me’, I mean when I’m looking at you in person.”

You snort. “Aw, you beat me to it.”

This bit is nice for B. It’s easy when the two of bounce off each other like this, when there are no supernatural worries to contend with. When B can show the much happier version of themselves without the fear of their supernatural side causing a sudden burst of fatigue.

“Do you want me to get off the phone so you can finish?” you question.

“Uh,” B begins as their trousers go on next, “you don’t have to. I’m almost done and…”

You tilt your head. “And…?”

“Just,” B breathes out, beginning to realise what they’re about to say. And maybe they’re saying it too soon, but they’ve already started. “I like hearing your voice.”

It’s said in such a soft and serious tone that you almost don’t catch it, that you almost don’t believe the words that have fallen from their mouth.

“But if you ever find my voice annoying, you’ll tell me?”

B lets out a humourless chuckle. “God, I’d never find you annoying,” they murmur softly as they slip an earring into their earlobe.

“What was that?”

B clears their throat. “Nothing,” they mutter quickly, wanting to keep the words to themselves for a moment longer. They look in the mirror, and it takes almost a minute, but they finally get the wave of satisfaction they’re looking for. “Are you ready too? I’ll come and get you.”

“No need,” you chuckle. “I’m outside your door.”

B smirks. “Stalker.”

“Last time I checked, you were the one who was supposed to be monitoring me when you got sent out to Lehsa.”

“Hm, fair point.” B suddenly finds themselves sauntering towards the front door. They pull it open and the sight of you takes their breath away. “You look..” they trail off, tongue-tied in the best way. “Wow.”

You can’t help but smile. Though you’ve been speaking on the phone, actually being face to face with B is different. It’s heartwarming, comforting, pulls you in so much that a mere date probably wouldn’t be enough for the night.

“I wouldn’t even be able to tell you spent so long stressing about what to wear,” you say playfully. “And I mean that as a compliment.”

B laughs. “You’re a charmer.”

“I do try.” Despite all this teasing being carefree and fun, being only friends with B is practically long gone from your mind at this point. “Ready to show me what a B Holden date looks like?”

They smile. “Oh, of course.” They close the door behind them and join you in the corridor.

The two of you aren’t far away from each other. In fact, if you both started leaning in, your lips would be pressed together.

You’ve both taken note of that. It’s hard not to when you’re looking at each other like that.

“One question,” B breathes out.

“Yeah?”

“What are your rules when it comes to kissing on a first date?”

#b holden #drabble

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fredwkong · 8 months

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The Prep Watch

When you first came home wearing the Prep Watch, we laughed about it. You were even the one who coined the name. You’d been at work downtown, busking and selling your punk CDs, when some preppy white boy in a Ralph Lauren polo and chinos ran up to you and smacked a Rolex or something onto your wrist.

You looked like the last person who would wear a Rolex. Every bare bit of skin was covered in tattoos, to the point that it was hard to tell you had Hispanic heritage. You had piercings all over your face and body, and you kept your hair in a neon pink mohawk. You covered up your skinny frame with heavily patched jackets and loose, distressed jeans. As the epitome of a punk, such a fancy watch stuck out like a sore thumb.

We laughed about it for a bit, and then I took a closer look. It was nice, probably gold-plated at least. “Dude, you should totally pawn it,” I told you. Our finances were…precarious, to say the least. Pawning something like this would cover, like, a week’s worth of groceries.

But you looked down and furrowed your pierced eyebrows. “I dunno,” you said, suddenly sounding far away. “I mean. It looks nice, right?”

“Definitely,” I said, assuming that would be the end of it.

But when you hopped into bed next to me that night, the Prep Watch was still on your wrist.

By the next week, it was definitely really weird. I mean, you only took the watch off to shower. But when I told you that you were being strange, you just said, “Yeah, but it looks nice, right?”

It was like living with a pod person.

I bet you thought I wouldn’t notice when you switched underwear. It was such a subtle difference, trading Walmart boxers for those fancy boxer briefs. But, I mean, I tidy the bedroom. I saw the patterns in the underwear drawer. At the time, I thought it was sort of cute. A hard-ass punk wearing underwear with a cuddly duckling pattern on it.

Little did I know.

It probably felt like temptation, the desires you were experiencing as you kept on wearing the watch. You’d be out in the city, busking the afternoon away, watching all those preppy city boys walk past in their pastel sweaters and fancy slacks. Knowing that underneath all your gear and piercings, right on top of your tattoos and your Prince Albert, you were wearing the same underwear. Did you miss any notes? Did your voice crack as you lusted over some fucking preps?

I was so confused when I found some of your more obvious piercings in the bathroom trash bin. You loved your nose rings, and we’d gotten our helix piercings together. Hearing you say that they just weren’t your thing anymore made me feel like slapping you.

I considered leaving you, you know. I could have walked out that day and left you at the mercy of whatever fucking bullshit was happening to you. But at that point, I had the crazy idea in my head that this wasn’t you. It was the Prep Watch that was doing this to you. So, like an idiot, I stayed, and tried to come up with a way to get that damn Rolex off your wrist.

One day, you came home and told me you’d gotten a corporate job. “May as well use that Economics degree,” you said, even though we’d burned our diplomas together a couple years ago. When you said, “It’s just until my music picks up,” I think we both knew you were lying, but I nodded anyway. Under your leather jacket, I could see you were wearing a polo shirt.

The next day, you got your hair cut. You hadn’t been maintaining your mohawk anyway, but it was a shock when you got home with a head of short brown curls. For some reason, it looked like it was growing in blond at the roots.

By that point, did you already hate your own music? You kept busking once or twice a week for a month longer. I think it was just for appearances. When we went out to gigs, I noticed your smile was kind of tight, like you were just there for my sake. The only times I saw you really grin anymore was when you were putting on your damn work shirts or staring at that fucking Prep Watch. I swear, you got a boner in your stupid preppy boxer briefs whenever you looked at that thing. “It looks nice, right?” you said to me, admiring the watch on your wrist under your cufflinks.

I couldn’t get the watch away from you. You only took it off to shower, and we’d stopped showering together. I bet you’d taken out all your body piercings already. Christ, they probably came off before your visible piercings, trying to hide it from me. What kind of a boyfriend— Whatever. What you were really hiding was probably how cleanly all your piercings had healed.

Yeah, don’t give me that shit about good wound care. I know what a healed over piercing looks like, and your lip has never been pierced. I mean, I know the watch is magic now. Your tattoos were fading even before you went and got them lasered off. I saw the disgust on your face every time you looked at your neck tatts in the mirror. No man’s skin gets pale like yours got. Everything cleared up.

Do you like being so much smaller? Softer? You used to be lanky and lean, now you look short, soft. Pastel. How many fucking pastel clothes can one man own? Pants, shirts, sweaters, socks, hats, fucking pastel purses! Man bags, what the fuck ever. Just a little curly-haired blond prep with perfect white teeth and a perfect little office job. Do your coworkers even know about what you used to be? They probably think you’re about twenty, with that boyish look on your clean-shaven face.

You really wanted to go to the carnival, and, I mean, you were paying most of the rent at that point, so I went along with it. For some reason, I still thought that I could separate you from that watch and everything would just… go back to normal. Who knows? Maybe if I’d found a way to separate the watch from you that night, they would have. You still remembered who you were, then. Your keyboard was covered in dust, sitting in the corner of the bedroom, but it was still there.

But as we watched the lights on the ferris wheel, you a short little pastel boy with a single demure piercing, standing next to a lanky punk covered in tattoos and wearing a patched jacket, you checked the Prep Watch. I watched as your eyes shone in the light reflected off the watch face, and with a swirl like smoke, they turned from brown to blue. You nodded to yourself and undid the watch.

“Want to try it?” you chirped at me, reaching toward my wrist.

I ran.

I think that I thought I could get back to our apartment and clear my stuff out before you got back. But I was on transit. You owned the car. I really thought I’d made it when I saw the lights off in our window. I unlocked the door, crept inside…

There was barely a rustle as you emerged from the closet and clapped the watch onto my wrist.

And now here we are. I’ve been talking for a while, I guess. I just had to get all of that out. I wish that I could just stand up, walk out, take off this watch. What I really wish is that I had just up and left when I saw the way this was going. I'm afraid that I'm about to lose myself, the way you have. I miss my boyfriend. But now here we are, and I’m wearing the Prep Watch, and, well…

It looks nice, right?

#male transformation #mental change #reality change #race change #male tf #preppification #twinkification #twink tf #clothing tf #gradual change #white tf #all fwkong

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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I was just re reading the musician eren and model/influencer reader and wanted to know if you were still doing their story or a part 2?

omg idk how long ago this was sent to me but I’m def still working on the story. but since I’m obsessed with this hc all over again, I’m spinning the block on it.

musician Eren with his black influencer wife imagines pt. 1 (how they first met)

cw: fluff mostly, kissing and mentions of alcohol, weed and implied sexual themes

Eren was definitely considered a loner when it came to being in the music industry. Despite having been in it since he was a teen. He was no stranger to the fangirling or the sexualizing and when he was younger, he thought it was funny but now, it annoyed the hell out of him.

because of this, he’d leave his loyal fanbase waiting for months or a year on a new project.

his ass definitely doesn’t use social media like that and when he does, he’s either speaking in riddles or lying for fucking sport just to see people scramble.

regardless of that, he was not only one of the world’s most popular but well versed artists as well. gifted with the ability to sing, rap, play instruments, write and produce..a generational talent for sure.

to him, music was his only love for the longest. he wasn’t interested in dating another pop star or hooking up with random models so the blogs could go tell his business.

that was until he met you..the new age celebrity and the woman who’d change his life!

having being forced into unwillingly doing a club appearance by his agent Mikasa, who’s used to dealing with his annoying, shut-in attitude, tells him he has no other choice or the label will boot his ass out for certain. She also tells him he’ll be co-hosting with you so to be on his best behavior.

he’s a little on the fence because he doesn’t see why you need to be there and how you’d draw out a crowd.

of course, his perception changed when he laid eyes on you for the first time. Instagram photos didn’t do you justice. You were a special type of fine with the prettiest dark skin and a body that most of these girls paid for (but he was shocked to find yours was all natural.)

“….I can’t believe I’m getting to meet THE Eren Jaeger in the flesh. It’s an honor..I’m a huge fan.” Naturally, he thinks you’re just being nice and doesn’t really pay it much attention but as the night goes on, he realizes that you were right.

he performs a couple of songs, both recent and old; ones only his true fans would remember and he’s shocked to look over and see that you not only know every word but we’re shouting the lyrics to the top of your lungs like a fangirl. (and even throwing ass on him couple of his raps, which made him almost forget his own words for a second!)

he’s in disbelief that this beautiful woman, who he figured to be just another industry plant fucks with him this heavily. He didn’t even realize he was still so popular or that you’d even like his music.”

when you get on the mic and not only blow him a kiss but give him his flowers as well, he’s so happy and flattered. Especially when the crowd does the same.

that only becomes more so when the two of you spend the rest of your night, chopping it up in the rented section. you tell him how you’d been a dancer first and then transitioned into a model.

he realized that you both had a lot in common when it came to your stances on the music game. You too preferred to stay out the way and baby, was this man SMITTEN. from your sweet little voice to the way you looked at him, he hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

he’s laughing at your jokes and you’re doing the same. You both spot a fan in the crowd, taking pictures and ready to run to the internet with them so like the troll he is, he pretends to kiss you, running a hand up your thigh and plays up the moment. “Let’s give their asses something to tweet about…”

this man starts spitting game too and you can’t believe this is real. you don’t stop him either because this man was so fine and one of your few celebrity crushes.

when he realizes that you’ve done your performances and things are getting heavy between y’all, he’s ready to dip but hoping you’ll tag along so he shoots his shot. He was sick of all his friends clowning him for not being with a girl in nearly two years.

“..it’s getting kinda crowded so I’m ‘bout to head out. What you getting into once you leave? I’d love to keep this conversation going.” nervous as hell when he asks but you’d never know it. Because he’s damn near smooth talked you up outta your clothes (courtesy of. the liquid courage and the weed he smoked).

honestly, it’s not a question and when the two of you ducked off to the back corner of the club, away from prying eyes..you give him your answer.

“I’m with whatever..you just lead the way.” and best believe, the night is only beginning…

#black fem reader #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #aot x black reader #fanfic #eren imagines #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger x black reader #musician au #attack on titan eren #attack on titan #chrollohearttags #eren fanfiction #eren cafe <3 #eren x you #black reader #thick black women #thick reader #aot fanfiction

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cherrimilk · 10 months

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✧ cruel summer s.p smau | chapter one

⤷ character profiles | next

⤷ notes | this is more of an introduction than an actual proper proper chapter. also you can tell i have a bias for kenny pookie, but dw i’ll give kyle more love next chap fr

you took one last look at the messages between you and your brother, before sighing and switching it off.

you stared out the car window of your parents truck, watching the blur of the world around you pass by as your mind raced with thoughts.

you were excited to be back, you missed the small town far more than you’d ever admit. but you were also worried. terribly worried. you hadn’t spoken to anyone else other than your brother and family since you left five years ago.

your friends, the friend group you and stan had been in since birth basically, hadn’t heard nor seen you in five whole years.

what if you didn’t fit in with the group anymore? or the guys secretly don’t give a shit about you anymore and are just lying to stan about missing you because he’s their best friend? what if they-

“and we’re here! welcome to the farm!” your mom’s voice from besides you pulled you from the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. you were so deep in your spiralling thoughts that you didn’t notice your mom pulling up to the farm and parking the car.

you got up out of the car, shutting the door behind you. “dad’s… somewhere. you know how he is. but he’ll be home soon don’t worry.” your mom explained, and you just hummed in response.

you stood, admiring what would be your home for the summer. you wished you could’ve seen your old house, but the farm actually looked pretty nice. it was oddly relaxing on the farm, quite different from the town-

“boo!”

“AHH FUCK OFF FUCKYOU-oh my god stan!”

after recovering from the initial shock of your brother coming up behind you and scaring you, you threw your arms around him, nearly knocking the wind out of him from how quickly you did so. you were half expecting him to push you off and call you a dumbass, but instead he actually wrapped his arms around you.

he did push you off three seconds later though, he said ‘no hug should last longer than three seconds’.

you stared at your brother, you honestly felt a little emotional seeing him again. the last time you saw each other was two years ago when him, shelly and your parents visited you in new york. he looked so much older than the last time, and being back home and back with your family was making you want to cry. you were happy to be back. you wanted to tell stan your thoughts, but you were far too shy to.

so you opted for just saying ‘i missed you stan.’

you didn’t expect him to respond, you knew how stan was. but he did, a quick little ‘missed you too’ that made your eyes widen.

“first you hug me and then you tell me you missed me? who are you bro? oh my god, oh my god did you like. puke too hard? did you puke too hard and then like uhm. like your brain got all scrambled and reprogrammed from how hard you puked and now you’re like-“ “y/n i swear to god if you don’t shut up i’ll kick your ass back on that fucking plane.” stan deadpanned, and you snorted, trying hard not to burst into laughter.

“stan help y/n with her bags, maybe you can ask the boys too. i’m gonna go get started on y/n’s special coming back dinner! i missed you so much sweetie.” your mom exclaimed, coming over to you to kiss your cheek and making her way inside the house.

you furrowed your eyebrows.

“the boys?”

“hey y/n!”

you turned your head to the direction of whoever just called your name - which came from the front door of your house. your eyes widening as soon as you saw them.

you hadn’t seen them in five years, but you immediately knew who they were.

kenny, kyle and eric.

“you said we would see them tomorrow!”

“yeah and i lied. don’t puke.”

normally you would’ve been mad at stan for lying like that, but you appreciated it greatly this time. because the minute you saw the boys, every last drop of anxiety left your body.

you were so fucking happy to see them.

you ran towards them without a second thought, basically jumping on kyle - who was right in front of the other two, wrapping your arms around him tightly. your head was in his chest, so you failed to notice how his cheeks had turned the slightest shade of red. nor the glare that kenny sent him for a split second when he noticed kyle’s reaction to your hug.

you separated from the ginger, admiring the boy in front of you properly for the first time. he definitely matured in the last five years, but he still had quite the baby face in your opinion. he was really, really cute. and he was still wearing that green ushanka, the colour now a faded dull green. tendrils of curly red hair sticking out from underneath the hat.

“oh my god. you look- you look the same. but so different. oh my god. still wearing that hat too, i’m getting you a new one tomorrow,” kyle chuckled at your words, looking down at you and smiling softly. his lips parted as if he were going to say something, but stopped abruptly as kenny stepped between you two with his arms outstretched.

“my turn!” the male exclaimed. “kenny!” you giggled, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around his torso. kenny squeezed you tightly, lifting you up off the floor slightly.

and this time, you didn’t see the way kyle’s jaw clenched for just a second.

you unwrapped your arms from kenny, who was staring at you with a smirk that made your cheeks heat up. you felt a bit shy under his gaze. you always used to though, you vaguely remember being ten and having a crush on him (and most of the girls your age in town did too). you never told him or stan though - obviously. and now that here he was staring at you, blonde hair in a messy wolfcut that you could 100% tell him or one of the boys cut, with that pretty smirk that was making your stomach swirl.

you could already feel that crush coming back.

“you’re staring pretty,” kenny said it loud enough for only you to hear, he didn’t want your brother kicking his ass. you shook your head, pretty damn flustered. but still trying to hold down the smile that was creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes.

“fuck you kenny.”

“anytime.” he again said it loud enough for only you to hear, and this time you couldn’t control the way your eyes widened and cheeks flared red. quickly turning your face away from him and directing it towards cartman, who was behind kenny and kyle, looking uninterested.

“hey cartman.”

“sup y/n.”

you two awkwardly stood in silence for a second, you never really liked eric. but then again none of your friends did all that much either anyways when you were younger.

but you knew alot could have changed in five years, and you also knew that if stan, kenny and kyle were still friends with him he just had to have gotten somewhat likeable.

and you missed him a little too.

“you get one too eric. come on.” eric pretended to look uninterested, faux gagging. but he hugged you back - albeit awkwardly, when you went in to hug the male.

you stepped back, staring at the group of boys surrounding you with probably the biggest smile you’ve had in five years.

you were happy to be back.

cherry’s facts | the reason y/n left south park was because she got the chance to attend an arts and culture focused school in new york. there she lived with her aunt for the past five years, and she hasn’t been home until now! her family did visit her in new york though.

cherry’s taglist (open!) | @corpseinpink @gsp420 @neenieweenie @lavender-pink-socks @elizabethnightingale4 @good-mourning0 @jaeclawsstudios @suddenlybambi @ryanmypoorlittlemeowmeow @staarshuu @minaethrym @rollin-with-the-lgbt @sula0kim @sydney153 @stephs-inluv @chickledee-slays @seraphsins @painfullyghst bold means i tag you :(

#south park smau #south park x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick sp #kenny mccormick x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski sp #stan marsh #south park #south park x y/n #south park x you

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chaoticpuff17 · 5 months

Text

Amygdala

Masterlist

part 16

There was a sadistic sort of glee that Margot took in dragging Yoongi through the store looking at dish set after dish set despite his clear disinterest in the proceedings. He was bored, but he hadn’t come to pick out dishes. He’d come to keep an eye on her, and she was determined to make the experience as painfully boring as possible in retaliation. Margot could be a very petty creature when she wanted to be, and in this instance, she wanted to be petty.

Margot spent an obscene amount of time looking over each dish set that caught her eye whether she liked the set or not, and Yoongi dutifully followed along wondering to himself how she could spend twenty minutes staring at the same pieces of ceramic, but he refused to utter a word of complaint. He was content even in the boredom just to be with her. She wasn’t lying in bed a shell of herself, and she wasn’t hurling insults at him at every turn. Overall, it was a successful outing so far by his account of it.

“Do like this one, jagi?” he asked, peering at what felt like the hundredth set she’d looked over.

“It’s nice.” She admitted, turning over the piece in her hand. “I like the color.”

Yoongi took another glance at it. “It’s green.”

“It has character unlike you’re boring ass dishes.” she shot back, quirking a brow at him as if to dare him to argue with her. “Besides, half the pieces are still white. It’s a mix and match kind of set. It adds some color to your house.”

“Pick whatever you want, love.”

Margot looked him up and down for a moment as though he’d said something incredibly dumb. “Yes. I’m going to. That’s the whole plan.”

Margot turned away from him, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face as she debated if this was the set she wanted to bring back to the penthouse. The color was lovely, a nice calm pale green that would brighten up the space while remaining in her favored color palette. While Yoongi had done a good job of making the space into one her college self would have liked, she wasn’t that girl anymore, and her taste in colors had changed a great deal since then.

“This one.” she confirmed, and Yoongi motioned for an attendant to come over, quickly ordering for the set to be packaged up for them. “Now for mugs!” she declared, moving further into the store as Yoongi stared at her as though she’d grown a second head.

“I thought you came for dishes?”

Margot turned back around, hands on her hips. “Mugs are dishes, and your whole apartment needs a redo if you want me to stay there permanently.” Not that she had any intention of Yoongi’s apartment being her permanent home.

“Do what you need to do.”

While the idea of a complete overhaul didn’t thrill his soul, he was immensely pleased that she was making the space her own. It may not have been the most productive use of his time, but he was happy to be spending time with her and even happier that it was in a normal way.

“These ones match.” he pointed out, pulling a light green mug down from the shelf to present to Margot.

Carefully, she took the piece from him, looking it over with a critical eye, and begrudgingly she had to admit that it was a good choice. It was probably the one she would have picked out herself after a much longer process of hemming and hawing in the name of annoying him.

She bit her cheek and stared at him with narrowed eyes, annoyed at how perceptive he was when it came to her tastes. He picked up on her likes and dislikes far too quickly. In a boyfriend it would have been endearing. In him, it was off putting.

Yoongi smirked down at her, amused by her annoyance. It was all part of becoming reacquainted with each other. Her annoyance would give way to gentler emotions with time. He was sure of it. For now, he found the glowering cute.

“Stop that.” she huffed. “You’re not picking dishes.”

“Do you want this set?” He asked, quirking a brow as though to dare her to say she didn’t like what he’d picked.

She stayed quiet for a moment, eyes narrowed and biting her the inside of her cheek before she gritted out that yes, she did in fact want that set of mugs, earning a triumphant smirk from Yoongi.

“I’m going to keep looking.”

“I’ll have them add the mugs to our tab.”

“You do that.”

Margot continued to move through the store, Yoongi following behind as always. As she perused the ceramics, Yoongi’s phone began to ring, drawing her attention.

A furrow appeared between Yoongi’s brow, his mouth set in a hard line clearly irritated by the interruption. Whoever was on the other side of that call though was apparently important enough to draw Yoongi away.

“I’m sorry, jagiya. I have to take this. You should keep looking.” He placed a hand on her arm in what she assumed was meant to be a comforting way before drawing back to pick up his phone.

“What?” he barked harshly into the device, letting his displeasure be known to whoever dared disturb his day with Margot.

The woman herself continued through the store searching for an opening in this golden opportunity. With Yoongi distracted, she might just be able to get a message out. She wouldn’t be able to fully slip away. He would see her making for the exit, and she knew that her security team was more than likely not far away, but with any luck she might just be able to contact someone and let them know what had happened to her.

Looking around, Margot noticed one of the ladies who worked at the store lingering near by. With a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure that Yoongi wasn’t paying attention to her, Margot made her way over.

“Excuse me.”

“Can I help you, Min buin?” the woman asked, a customer service smile stretched across her lips.

“I was wondering if you had a phone that I could use.”

The woman’s smile dimmed, confusion in her eyes. “A phone, buin?”

“Yes. I don’t have mine currently, and my…” she steeled herself for a moment for the lie she was about to tell, the words lodged in her throat not wanting to come out. “My husband is currently occupied, and I can’t borrow his.” The woman stared at her skeptically. “Just for a moment. I promise.”

Margot kept her expression light and calm as she tried to persuade the other woman not wanting her to know that anything was amiss.

“Of course, buin.” the woman reached into her pocket pulling out her phone and passing it over despite her reservations.

“Thank you.” Margot breathed out a sigh of relief, taking the phone.

Quickly, she dialed one of the few numbers she had memorized, praying as the phone rang that he would pick up.

“Yeoboseyo?”

“Tae-il?” Margot rushed, speaking softly but quickly into the phone.

“Margot-ah?” Tae-il asked clearly just as relieved to hear her voice as she was to hear his. “Margot, where are you? What happened.”

Margot glanced at the woman who was still nearby looking at her curiously. “I’m with Yoongi.”

“What?” Tae-il’s voice shook as he spoke. “Are you alright? Has he hurt you?”

“I’m alright. We’re out running errands.”

“Errands?”

“Could you let Namjoon-ssi know that I’ve been tied up, and I won’t be able to make our meeting?”

She spoke in a hushed tone, careful not to be too loud so as not to attract Yoongi’s attention but not so softly that the call would seem unusual to the other woman. She was also careful to keep her words as unrushed as possible. That would also cause suspicion, and she doubted that this woman had any qualms about reporting any odd behavior to Yoongi. It might have just been her own paranoia, but she didn’t feel she could trust anyone where Yoongi was concerned especially not in a place where the staff referred to her as Min buin.

“Margot?”

“I don’t have my phone right now, so he won’t be able to call.”

“Margot, are you safe?”

“Yes. Please pass on the message.” Margot looked around nervously, noticing that Yoongi was putting away his phone and turning his attention back to her though she wasn’t where he had left her. It would be a matter of moments before he spotted her with a phone in hand.

“Margot.”

“I’ll call again soon.”

“Margot, don’t hang up.”

Margot hung up the call, handing the phone back to the sale’s woman. “Thank you for letting me borrow your phone.”

The woman gave her a look, still suspicious about what she had just witnessed but unwilling to ask any questions about it. “It was my pleasure, buin.”

“Mari-ah.” Yoongi called, sharp eyes spotting her tucked away behind one of the displays.

“Thank you.” she said again before turning her attention to Yoongi. “Calm down. I’m right here.” she huffed, pretending that she hadn’t just done what she’d done.

Yoongi was back by her side in a moment, slinging an arm around her waist in a display of public affection that she wasn’t particularly fond of. “What did you find, love?”

Margot took a quick glance at the items around her. “Tea sets.” she responded quickly and as breezily as she could, ignoring her shaking hands.

“Didn’t you just buy mugs?”

“Mugs and tea sets are different things.”

“Did you find anything you like?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll find something.”

The pair spent hours in the store, filtering through the departments picking out this and that for the apartment or rather with Margot picking out things for the apartment and Yoongi throwing in his two cents every now and again only to receive a withering glare from Margot in return. Even with the glares, every now and then something he would suggest would be begrudgingly accepted into the haul.

Margot made sure to make every moment count, spending longer than necessary looking over each section of the store and each item. She was all too aware that when the shopping was done, so was her time outside. There were only so many excuses she could come up with to remain out of the apartment in one day and only so long that Yoongi would allow her to use those excuses before it was time to head home.

“Come on, jagiya.” Yoongi sighed, relieved to be done with the shopping even if it meant there was now a significant dent in his credit card. “I think that’s everything you could possibly need for the moment. Let’s go grab lunch.”

Margot hesitated, unsure if she wanted to go eat with him and wracking her brain for an excuse as good as going for lunch as to why they couldn’t go back to the apartment yet. She came up with nothing.

“We can even go to Tae-il-ssi’s restaurant if you’d like.”

Her eyes widened, the offer too good to be true, but she could see no lie in his eyes as he made the offer.

“We can go to Tae-il’s?” she asked slowly, just to be sure that she had heard him correctly and wasn’t hallucinating the things that she wanted to hear.

“We can go to Tae-il’s.” he confirmed.

“Okay then. Let’s go to Tae-il’s.”

Yoongi sent their shopping back to the apartment with part of the security team as he drove them back to her former home, her real home. Margot could only hope that Tae-il would have the presence of mind not to say anything to Yoongi about the phone call she had just made. She very much doubted that he would appreciate her making illicit phone calls to send messages to detectives behind his back, and she didn’t want to see what the consequence to that action would be if he found out.

Part of her knew that it was stupid to go to Tae-il right after the call, but the other part desperately wanted to see him and assure him that she was alright. if she was very lucky, Yoongi might even allow her a moment alone to talk to Tae-il where she could give him a more detailed message for Namjoon. She knew the odds of it were slim, a mere hope of a hope, but she was determined to try for her own sanity if nothing else.

“Are you excited, jagi?” Yoongi asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

“Excited?”

“To see Tae-il.”

Margot thought for a moment, trying to choose her words carefully. “I’m excited to see him, but I also don’t want to worry him too much. He’s not going to be happy that I’m with you.”

“He doesn’t like me very much does he?”

“No. No he doesn’t.” she huffed out, rolling her eyes. “You can’t really blame him though. You did ransack his restaurant.”

Yoongi’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I didn’t personally do anything.”

Margot looked over at him, once more debating if there was a brain in his head at all given the brainless things that seemed to come out of his mouth routinely.

She started to speak, and then paused, blinking slowly as she tried to piece together her thought. “You were…. you… you ordered it?” She stared at him, still trying to process. “Are you trying to imply that you aren’t at fault because you didn’t physically ransack anything despite being the one to order it? What kind of fucked up sense does that make?” She scoffed, turning to look out the passenger side window. “This is why no one likes you.”

“You don’t like me, jagiya?” he asked, a small smile pulling on the corner of his lips as he gave a small gasp of shock.

Margot turned back to him, face void of all expression. “Not even a little bit.”

“You’re lies hurt me, jagiya.” A pout pulled at his features.

“I’m sure you’ll survive like the cockroach you are.” she waved him off breezily, turning once more to watch the world pass by through the window.

Yoongi let her be after that, content to drive in silence as her thoughts took her away into a world of her own making. His own thoughts drifted to her words.

While being called a cockroach wasn’t the most flattering thing, it also wasn’t a completely inaccurate assessment. He wasn’t ashamed of the things he’d done to get where he was now, but there were certainly things in his past that strengthen the comparison. He’d scraped his way up from the bottom with the same resilience of a cockroach, and everyone who had doubted him or tried to stand in his way were either knew better than to question him or were no longer there to underestimate him. Every attempt to destroy him had failed, and he’d clawed his way up until he’d reached the success he had today. It was with that same determination he planned to approach him relationship with Margot.

Cockroach or not, he was a man who got his way, and he doubted that Margot had the same single minded determination to resist him. She’d tire of it eventually, and the comfort of their previous relationship would win out over the stubbornness she insisted on. It was a waiting game, and he was sure that he was the contestant with the most patience and the most to lose should he have guessed wrong.

If he had bet wrong in this, he would lose everything he had ever wanted. If she had bet wrong, she’d get a loving husband and a beautiful home.

Yoongi’s hands flexed on the wheel again as the thoughts ran through his head. Everything he’d ever hoped for hinged on whether or not she bluffing about hating him or not. He talked a good game and put on a good show when she spewed her vitriol against him, but deep down, beneath it all, there was a kernel of doubt that liked to snake up his spine when she did. What if it wasn’t just a bluff? What if there wasn’t still a lingering affection as he’d been banking on? What if he couldn’t get her to love him again?

Just as quickly as the doubt would rear its ugly head, Yoongi would push it back down again. He couldn’t afford to doubt himself, not in business and not in this. Everything depended on his ability to predict the correct outcome, his unfailing instincts and ruthless drive to succeed. He hadn’t been wrong before, and he wouldn’t be wrong now. She loved him. Deep beneath it, all just as his doubt lingered so did her love, and he would find a way to pull it back out again even if he had to drag it out of her kicking and screaming.

As much as he hated to admit it, it had been quite some time since he’d actually had to woo a woman. The last time may well have been Margot herself, and he’d fumbled that spectacularly. He knew the basic principles though. He knew that it would require softer tactics than he was used to, and he had been made well aware by Margot herself that she was not going to bend to him easily, but she wouldn’t have been his Margot if she had folded at the first attack. His Margot was made of stronger stuff than that, and as frustrated as he found himself at times that they couldn’t just jump back into things as they had been, he also found a certain thrill in the chase. She kept him on his toes.

A slow smile stretched over his features as he pulled over. His Margot wasn’t easy, but he wouldn’t have had her any other way.

“We’re here, jagiya.”

“Can I actually get out on my own or is the child lock still in play?” She asked, tilting her head to the side in question.

“I’ll get the door. "

Margot grumbled as he opened her door for her, offering a gentlemanly had which she chose to ignore. “The child lock is kind of demeaning, you know?”

“We can talk about not having the child locks on when you no longer look like you want to run me through.”

“So not any time soon.”

“That’s completely up to you, jagiya.”

“I dislike you immensely.” she sighed, narrowing her eyes slightly before her entire demeanor switched. Her shoulders pulled back, and a bright smile took over her face, lighting up her features as she made her way to the door.

“Uncle!”

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separatist-apologist · 11 months

Text

Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3

Six months earlier:

“JUMP!” Azriel called, his voice echoing over the screaming wind. Gwyn didn’t think, didn’t let herself do a damn thing other than follow his instructions. Leaping in the air and wishing she had wings, Gwyn cleared the gap in the obstacle course he’d laid out for her, Nesta, and Emerie. She wanted to clear it first, too competitive for her own good. What else was new? Azriel had agreed to help her maneuver it privately outside of her regular training, which meant they were often out late, just as the sun began to settle.

Gwyn had other responsibilities, too. Responsibilities to the females in the library, to Merril, to her friends. And maybe it was nice, for once, to be so exhausted she didn’t have to think about anything but life moment to moment. Here, all Gwyn had to think about was her pumping legs, her swinging dagger, and not getting her ass kicked by a five hundred year old Illyrian warrior.

Gwyn landed hard enough to make her knees scream in protest.

“GET UP!” Azriel roared, his location hidden to her. Bastard, she thought privately. Cassian had warned Nesta, who in turn had warned Gwyn that Azriel was a hard bastard but she hadn’t believed them. Sure, he was demanding but she expected that. They’d worked privately before with daggers and he’d been reasonable enough.

But out here in the mountains, shielded from the other Illyrian warriors and his friends, Azriel was brutal. Miserable, too, not that she’d admit that. She could have walked away after her first failed attempt with him but part of her thought maybe she deserved this.

He ran her harder than anyone else. Even Cassian looked at her—and the other priestesses—with a mixture of pity and admiration. Sometimes Gwyn resented that. Everyone knew by virtue of where she chose to live, made worse by the fact that it had been the High Lords inner circle who’d found her that day. They all knew the very intimate details Gwyn would have preferred stayed locked away.

But if Azriel ever thought of them, he didn’t show it. And he never looked at her with anything but grim determination…and maybe a little disappointment. That was better than pity, though.

Anything was better than pity.

So Gwyn got up, just as Azriel demanded, and made her way toward the spelled dummies that would try and wound her. She bore bruises from the last session, though no gashes. She was ready this time, prepared to take on these enchanted warriors that had no wants other than to see her dead.

They could just get in line, she thought grimly. Reaching for the dagger strapped at her thigh, Gwyn ducked, narrowly avoiding a brutal slice along the cheek. It was muscle memory to jab just between the ribs, forcing her wrist up without twisting so hard she broke it.

“Good,” Azriel murmured from the shadows. High praise from him. “Again.”

Gwyn did, disabling the second, and then the third. It was the fourth that always stopped her. When Cassian had told them of the obstacle course, grinning proudly at his own ingenuity, he told them Rhys had spelled the phantom warriors to seem life-like. And though she knew the High Lord couldn’t possibly know and would have rearranged his enchantment if she’d ever told him so, that last warrior had the same eyes as the Hybernian soldier. The same shade of dark, depthless blue that Gwyn still saw when she closed her eyes. This was where she always failed and where she was going to fail again.

“KILL HIM!” Azriel yelled, clearly frustrated when she slowed. Gwyn couldn’t, though. She hesitated, lowering her weapon and like always, received a punishing blow to the gut.

This is what I deserve, she thought as that sword raised over her. Gwyn closed her eyes, prepared for the death blow that she knew wasn’t coming. Heavy boots landed just in front of her, and with a wave of his gloved hand, the enchanted warrior fell to the ground like a lifeless puppet.

Azriel turned, hazel eyes sharp. “What happened?” he demanded.

Wiping the sweat at her forehead, Gwyn ignored him when he tried to help her to her feet. “I’m not cut out for this,” she said defensively.

Azriel’s wings tightened against his back, blue siphons flashing a warning. He was irritated with her.

“You were making record time and then you stopped. Why?”

“Take me back,” she replied, refusing to look at him.

“Why, Gwyn?”

Resentment bloomed in her gut. Because I should have died that day—not Catrin. Because I’m here but I feel stuck, because my life was stolen and— “Take me back.” He sighed loudly, though whatever he wanted to say remained leashed behind his teeth. Shadow enveloped them both—cool and reassuring, like lapping waves rising to meet the shore. Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut tight, grateful when she heard Azriel’s boots clipping over the roof.

“Get your shit together, Berdara,” Azriel grumbled, raking a hand through his hair. “If you don’t want to talk to me about it, talk to someone else or you’re never going to finish.”

“I’m a Carynthian, aren’t I?” she dared to say, safe beneath a dusky violet sky. “Maybe that’s enough.”

He turned, those eyes flashing like burning coals. “Luck—not skill,” he replied, his voice colder than the mountains they’d just come from. “Luck won’t always save you.”

Gwyn’s nostrils flared. She knew he was right, knew she, Nesta, and Emerie had survived because they’d had each other. Just as she knew there would come a time when they didn’t. And Gwyn knew all too well what it was like to be alone.

To be defenseless.

Azriel swallowed, throat bobbing ever so slightly. There—right there, she saw it. His hesitation, his concern. Something pulled in her chest, some muscle she was unfamiliar with. “Don’t,” she snapped, furious that of all the people she knew, he would dare. “You know it's hard.”

“Not for you,” he replied flatly. “You could get to the ropes if you wanted to.”

The pity was gone in his eyes, though the feeling in her chest was not. Gwyn wanted to rub at her chest to ease whatever was building though she kept her hands tightly coiled at her side. “I’ll get it.”

Azriel cocked his head for a moment, wind blowing against the blue black of his hair. “We’ll see.”

He turned, leaving her standing on the roof alone in favor of unfurling his mighty wings and taking off toward the Sidra. Gwyn didn’t watch him go, though she did wait to scream softly from behind her teeth, a wordless sound that didn’t help anything at all.

Gwyn didn’t know how to forget those eyes, and if she couldn’t forget, what did that mean for her? What did that say about the centuries of life stretched before her? Why couldn’t she kill him? Gwyn had thought of nothing else for so long, and now, confronted with the memory in a visceral way, Gwyn merely stood there waiting to die.

Just like before.

She turned for the door, intending to make her way to the library where she’d read until she was too exhausted to think. Her bones screamed in protest, aching from training that afternoon and obstacle course Azriel had spent the last hour running her through. Up the hilly mountainside, coatless in the cold, as she navigated a treacherous plank walk, moving targets, and steep drops that could kill her if she wasn’t careful.

And then lines and lines of warriors. Gwyn had never managed to get past the first line. Carythian meant nothing if she couldn’t fight. Azriel was right about that. Luck had saved her twice, but it wouldn’t save her again. She knew that like she knew herself.

Yanking open the door, Gwyn took a step, still uneasy from the building pressure in her chest. She took a breath, inhaling that feeling until it settled into something soft. She swallowed it whole, refusing to acknowledge it entirely.

She had other things to think about.

Present day:

“Berdara!” Cassian’s voice echoed over the rooftop, pulling Gwyn from her thoughts. She’d been half asleep in the middle of a cooldown. “Are you getting enough sleep?”

No. “Yes,” she lied, hating the way her cheeks burned from embarrassment. Beside her, Nesta glanced over curiously while Emerie mouthed, you okay?

“C’mon,” Cassian said, hands crossed over his chest. “Finish your leg.”

Yeah, yeah. Gwyn leaned forward, pressing her cheek to her knee to stretch out her aching, sore muscles. She’d been withdrawn lately and everyone had noticed. Across the training ring, she felt Azriel’s curious gaze puncturing her leathers though she didn’t look at him at all. Gone were the days when he gave her private lessons.

She’d walled herself off to him—to everyone, really. Even then, as Cassian dismissed them, Gwyn was quick to her feet in an effort to avoid Nesta and Emerie. That was easy enough when Cassian immediately intercepted his mate with a lopsided grin on his face. She could slip toward the door, quick as a shadow, and began the trek to the library.

“Gwyn!”

That was Emerie, though Gwyn could pretend she didn’t hear it when the door slammed shut. Again. This was easier, she lied, though in truth it took an immense amount of effort to smile at her friends only to dodge them later on.

Why keep going at all? Why not bow out and return to Merril full time? The priestess certainly would have appreciated Gwyn undivided attention and Gwyn could have slowly faded from her friend’s minds.

It was too painful to imagine not having Nesta and Emerie, and worse to admit that despite everything, she was still locked in the past. Trapped in a hell not of her own making, sealed in tight all the same. Nesta and Emerie were doing better, but Gwyn felt worse somehow in ways she couldn’t explain, not even to herself.

It was easier to just avoid it entirely, which meant avoiding her friends, too.

Gwyn made it back to the library in record time, ignoring the same curious looks she always got when she came in wearing the Illyrian leathers the High Lady had gifted her. An entire set, along with knives far nicer than anything Gwyn could have ever imagined.

For saving my sister, she’d written in looping, elegant script. Gwyn had them locked in a chest at the end of her bed, too pretty and priceless to use. Azriel had given her some cast-off, dinged up and battered that Gwyn still favored.

Like me, she thought as she closed herself behind the round, wooden door of her bedchamber. She took just one breath, back pressed to the wall, and then began pulling at the clasps of her clothes. For now, she left them in a heap on the obsidian floor, marching herself toward a standing mirror so she could survey the damage.

She wasn’t eating well again, evidenced by the lines from her ribcage visible just beneath her skin. Bruises dotted her flesh—some fading green while others were a fresh, vibrant violet. She took pleasure at the sight of them against her shoulder blades and spine.

Another breath took her to the blue robes she wore in the library. They fit, hanging just looser than she would have liked, but well enough. Gwyn ignored the evoking stone crumpled on her vanity, taunting her on a beam of buttery sunlight.

She made her way back to the door, thinking only of Merril and her research.

“Em,” she said when she pulled open the door to reveal the Illyrian female on the other side. “Hi.”

“You’re avoiding me. Us,” she added, though Nesta was nowhere to be seen. That was the only positive. If Nesta realized Gwyn was dodging them, she’d follow Gwyn around with that stubborn, single-minded determination of hers.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t,” Emerie replied, tucking her wings in tight. Not like Cassian and Azriel did in an effort to make themselves seem smaller and less threatening, but to help her fit through the rather low door without banging her already broken wings against the frame.

Gwyn stepped back, dress swishing around her legs as she went.

“What’s going on?” Emerie asked, the door clicking softly behind her. “You don’t come out to the mountains anymore. Nesta cleared it yesterday.”

Of course she did. Once, they’d wanted to revive the Valkyrie. Gwyn was supposed to be researching the ancient legion lost to Hybern but found the whole thing too personal, too close to home.

“Merril is running me ragged,” she said, which wasn’t entirely a lie. Emerie took a seat on the edge of Gwyn’s bed, crossing one leg over the other. “I’m too distracted to focus.”

And Azriel doesn’t like you anymore.

She shook that thought off, well aware it wasn’t true. And even if it was, Cassian still did. He would have taken her to the obstacle course if she’d asked him to, even without Nesta or Emerie. He’d have done so gladly, would have walked her through the entire thing.

“Come with me,” Emerie pleaded, leaning forward to grab Gwyn’s hand. “Please, Gwyn. None of this means anything if you go back to the library.”

“Of course it does,” she replied blithely, slapping what she hoped was a convincing smile on her face.

There was no lying to Emerie, though. She was too shrewd, too used to people looking her in the eye and telling her half-truths. Narrowing her pretty brown eyes, Emerie said, “I’ll send Nesta down.”

And Nesta would pick and pick and pick until Gwyn was nothing but open wounds and bleeding scars. Nesta knew how to get to the heart of someone with only a look, and needed no magic to see straight into Gwyn’s soul. She’d know…and Gwyn couldn’t stand to see any more pity.

“Okay,” she said, unable to hide how tired she was. “Is Cassian taking you?”

“Morrigan,” Emerie said, a curious blush staining her cheeks. “The High Lord has called Azriel and Cassian Velaris tonight and before you ask, no I don’t know why. Nesta didn’t either…you’d know that if you weren’t dodging us.”

“I—”

The look on Emerie’s face stilled the bubbling lie.

“Tonight, just before sunset,” Emerie said, rising from her place on Gwyn’s bed. “And…I know you don’t want to hear this, but you could tell us, you know.

Shame rose in Gwyn’s throat, a familiar sensation as of late. Disappointing her friends was new, though. Pushing them away would be a different sort of hell—a miserable hole she’d never dig herself out of.

“There is nothing to tell,” Gwyn whispered, unable to meet Emerie’s gaze. She heard her friend sigh, heard the whispering of her wings as she walked back to the door.

“I used to say the same thing, once.”

She was gone when Gwyn looked up, the door wide open. In the hall, all Gwyn saw were shadows blotting out the sunlight from the peaked windows at the very end. As she left, Gwyn was careful to avoid them entirely, fingers skimming the wood walls as she went.

Pieced together, step by step, Gwyn didn’t dare allow herself to turn and look behind her. Even when she felt those every present, curious eyes on her.

Keep moving.

AZRIEL:

Drumming his fingers against the wood, Azriel forced himself not to stand though he very much wanted to. All eyes on him, even when he would have preferred to be little more than shadow. That wasn’t possible with his brothers, both of whom were discussing the return of Morrigan. She was with Nesta up at the House of Wind, taking her and Emerie to the obstacle course rather than Cassian.

Azriel wanted to be anywhere but here. Rhys droned on, talking of this problem and that, all cloaking what he truly wished to say.

Are you well, brother?

Cassian, too, kept cutting sly glances his way. Azriel didn’t want to think about Morrigan, let alone speak about her. It was too complicated and Azriel didn’t do complicated. Too messy, too much still unsaid. Having her away had almost been a relief. Azriel could pretend, as he too often did, that there was nothing there at all.

Because there wasn’t. Mor had been making that abundantly clear for years. Centuries, even. And still Azriel couldn’t resist the pull toward her, certain it must be an unsnapped mating bond. He’d told himself a million times that she felt it too and it scared her enough to stay away, but somewhere around the time Feyre arrived, and then Nesta, and finally Elain, Azriel had begun to suspect it wasn’t a bond at all.

And if it wasn’t a bond, it meant there had never been anything between them at all. Only his own hopes, all pinned on one female who didn’t want him.

“Az?”

Rhys’s voice cut through his thoughts. Azriel glanced up at his brother, his friend, heart thudding in his throat, silently waiting for Rhys to repeat what he’d said.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes,” he lied. Rhys clocked him immediately, violet eyes pulling at the corners. Cassian rose from his seat in the study, striding toward the fireplace mantle just behind Azriel. Only his brothers could move around him like that, though it still made Azriel jumpy.

“So you’ll go, then?”

“Of course,” he replied evenly. That was his job—spying, gathering information, torturing when he needed to, stealing when he didn’t.

“If Mor can’t charm them, we’ll let Azriel do things his way,” Rhys said with a sharp toothed grin. “Though, I would like to have someone at court, if I could. Nesta, perhaps—”

“Not Nes,” Cassian interjected, his voice tight. “She’s training new priestesses.”

And Cassian couldn’t stand the thought of his new mate running off to Montessere with Azriel for the Cauldron knew how long. A pang of longing slammed against his ribs, burning colder than any hatred he’d ever felt. Azriel wanted what Cassian and Rhys had and was beginning to suspect he didn’t because he was wholly unworthy. The mother had looked around, taken stock of him, and decided he was the kind of creature that deserved to be alone.

“What about Elain?” Cassian continued, unaware of how stiff both Rhys and Azriel got. Azriel’s eyes flicked toward Rhys, hands braced against his neatly organized desk. Behind him, Feyre watched them all with imperious blue eyes, warning them not to give Rhys too much grief.

“No,” Azriel said, careful to keep his voice measured. Better to not let Cassian realize that was still a sore spot between he and Rhys. “She’s too…”

Rhys watched him, drumming his fingers along the desk just as Azriel had been doing only moments before. Azriel sighed. “She’s a distraction.”

That wasn’t a lie, at least. Elain wasn’t the spying type and was likely to shrink away when she realized what it would take to extract the information Rhys wanted. There was wisdom in installing someone at court, though—it gave him access to the palace itself, allowed him to move through the halls freely without skulking when everyone was asleep, and would legitimize him. Otherwise he’d be in trees and up in the clouds, constantly slipping about, hiding and stuffing himself into too-small nooks and crannies.

“Gwyn, then,” Cassian interrupted, his voice assured. Azriel twisted on the cream sofa, brows furrowed. Gwyn was all but checked out at training and last he’d heard, refusing to go back to the obstacle course. He gave her another month before she returned to the library full time, abandoning her quest to embody her Carynthian title.

She certainly had stopped seeking him out for help, and Azriel knew better than to offer it. Whatever was going on with her was none of his business which she’d made abundantly clear the last time they’d spoken.

“The priestess?” Rhys questioned, straightening his spine.

“She’s stealthy,” Cassian began, eyes bright. “A good fighter and unassuming. Sending Az to protect a priestess wouldn’t be unusual, either.”

“Mor was just there,” Rhys reminded them, though it was clear he was considering this absurd plan. “They’ll know we’ve changed tactics.”

“Mor was there as emissary. They said they wanted an exchange of knowledge. Who better to send than a priestess working in the High Lord’s library? She can say it’s a show of good faith, and since she’s not trained as a courtier, she’ll come off earnest rather than practiced like Nesta or Elain would.”

Rhys looked to Azriel, who shook his head. “She’s too unpracticed and I don’t have time to babysit her.”

Cassian scoffed, walking away from the crackling fire toward the set of chairs on the opposite end of the coffee table. “Then call Lucien.”

Azriel’s lip curled over his teeth. Looking up at Rhys, he waited for the High Lord to tell Cassian that was an awful plan. Lucien was their emissary to the humans and if anyone was a court trained bastard, it was Vanserra.

“Not everything needs to be a suicide mission, Az,” Rhys began, sensing Azriel’s rising temper. “And I want someone at court. So you can take the priestess or I suppose we could call Vanserra and send him with you.”

“Are those my only options?” Azriel demanded, flaring his nostrils as he attempted to leash his anger.

Rhys ran his tongue over his teeth. “For now.”

Fuck.

“Gwyn, then,” Azriel said through gritted teeth. She was tolerable, at least. Better than tolerable when she wanted to be and more importantly, unrelated to a Vanserra. “If you don’t trust me to do this on my own.”

“Of course I do,” Rhys replied evenly, refusing to take the bait. “The situation is delicate—if we’re caught, they’ll turn their backs to us completely. I want to know everything. If Beron has made them promises, if they’re thinking of aligning with Koschei…if they even know of Koschei.”

“It’ll be good for her,” Cassian added softly, letting his concern show over his features. “All Nesta talks about is how withdrawn Gwyn has become.”

“Assuming she even agrees,” Azriel replied indifferently. Rhys’s plan hinged on one of his traumatized priestesses agreeing to fly across the continent with a male she just barely trusted. Gwyn would say no, Azriel would return to Rhys and—

“If she doesn’t agree, Vanserra will go,” Rhys interrupted, reading Azriel’s thoughts plainly. “And the two of you will have to work together.”

“We’ll kill each other,” Azriel replied, rising to his feet. “If I don’t kill him first.”

“Why do you hate him?” Cassian asked.

Azriel didn’t dare reveal the real reason. Didn’t dare admit he hated Lucien not because he was part of Beron’s brood, or for what he’d allowed to happen to Feyre or even how he’d supported Tamlin all those years—but because a Vanserra was somehow worthier than Azriel. Lucien had a mate.

Lucien.

And if Vanserra’s could be granted mates but not Azriel, it meant everything his father had ever said about him was true. Everything Rhys’s father had believed about him—true.

And every private insecurity he held was true, too.

Rhys knew it. Without peering into his mind, Rhys somehow still knew. And Azriel resented his friend for knowing this thing, even if Rhys had never once used it against him, or even mentioned it at all.

“What reason do I need to hate a Vanserra?” Azriel replied, turning his back on them both. Cassian sucked in a breath while Rhys chuckled—the sentiment was well-echoed. Lucien was allowed because Feyre loved him and Elain hadn’t broken their bond. He was useful, a tool and little else and Azriel was looking forward to the day Elain did break the bond, if only to see him suffer as Azriel did.

“You’ll have this conversation with Gwyn?” he asked, halting at the door. It would be better coming from Rhys or Cassian than Azriel, who didn’t know how to approach her without making it seem like he was trying to kidnap her.

“I will,” Rhys murmured, his eyes flickering with what looked like pity. Gwyn would hate that. Azriel hated it on her behalf, too. He nearly told his friend to wipe that look off his face, to keep the guilt from sounding in his voice. Rhys would figure it out, though, and Azriel truly didn’t have the capacity for that conversation.

Not when Elain Archeron breezed down the hall in a loose, lilac dress. Scenting of lavender and honey and something that made his insides slick with shame—the mating bond, the same he could scent whenever Nesta or Feyre were around.

Not that it mattered. Elain refused to acknowledge him at all, pathetically petty even if it was deserved. He disliked her cold shoulder, how she kept her eyes firmly ahead, arms filled with pretty pink hydrangeas she’d arrange for Feyre’s dining table.

He stood there, ignoring Cassian and Rhys’s chatter behind him, waiting for her to pass. Even though she refused to look, he still inclined his head as a show of respect. Whatever might have happened between them had always been doomed from the start. Azriel had known it and hadn’t cared—he knew he was just as much a distraction to her and she was to him.

Pink bloomed over her cheeks, though whether that was embarrassment or shame, Azriel didn’t know. Didn’t care to figure out, either. He waited until she vanished around a corner, a door slamming just a little too loudly, before he made his way behind her.

Azriel slipped into the darkness, careful not to make a sound. He could still hear Cassian and Rhys talking softly, their voices a low hum in the back of his skull. In front of him, the city was a symphony of sound, illuminated by the twinkling stars overhead and floating fae lights. Velaris was alive, waking with the setting sun but Azriel was still a phantom, hidden in the dark.

Just as he’d always been.

Flaring his wings, he made his way toward the House of Wind where he’d try–and fail—to sleep. Maybe he’d run the obstacle course himself, venting his frustrations until he was too exhausted to stand. Azriel landed on the roof just as the thought occurred to him that he might drink himself into oblivion. It wasn’t his favorite, though it got the job done.

Maybe vent his frustrations into a willing, warm body. He twisted, looking back at the dotted lights of Velaris when— “Az?” Fuck fuck fuck.

Azriel turned, heart racing at the sight of Morrigan. He hadn’t spotted her—had been too distracted. He could scent sweat, and the smells of Nesta and Gwyn still lingering in the air. Mor must have just brought them back.

He dipped his chin, unsure what to say. That had sent Elain scurrying away—perhaps Mor would leave, too. She certainly seemed like she wanted to, brown eyes apprehensive as she watched him. She wore a nice pair of dark pants, her white shirt tucked in neatly, and though there was a blade strapped against her back and her blonde hair was half falling from a braid, she was still stunning.

And not his. Never his.

“Do you live up here now?” she asked when the silence stretched thinly between them.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Silence finally got to you, huh?” she teased, offering him a half smile. Azriel couldn’t return it because that would make him too hopeful. He shrugged, turning back to Velaris though he knew now he couldn’t leave. Not until she did, at any rate. And then…and then.

She took a cautious step toward him. “Az, I—”

“You don’t—” he swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment as he worked to compose himself. “You don’t have to say anything.”

She came closer, still. “Will you take me back?” she asked him and Azriel, stupid and foolish, couldn’t tell her no. Mor came within touching distance for the first time in years, the sweet, soft scent of her washing over him.

He kept himself rigid as she wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing himself to wrap one arm around her waist before he kicked off into the sky. There was nothing but cool air here, and the warmth of Mor’s body pressed against his own.

“We were friends, once,” she murmured as Azriel soared overhead, taking a roundabout way so she could say whatever it was she so clearly needed to say. “What happened to us?”

I’m in love with you and I can’t let it go. You don’t love me and you never will.

He didn’t respond, choosing to just hold her for what he knew would be the last time. When he set her back to the ground, it would all be over and Azriel would have to move on somehow. To continue would be a betrayal of their family, would destroy them all. In a way, Azriel was suddenly grateful for some space to untangle his messy emotions.

“Is there someone else?” he finally forced himself to say. To just admit that he wanted her, even if it went against every instinct in his body.

“Yes,” she replied, fingers brushing beneath his chin so he had to look at her. “And if I ever could have loved a male, it would have been you.”

Azriel blinked. “What…?” She’d had male lovers before—many, by his recollection. Helion, Cassian, several Summer courtiers, that male from Dawn…

Mor swallowed. “You know how my father is,” she forced herself to say, eyes jewel bright. “I think, even now, I’m scared to disappoint him. To admit what I really want. Who I want. And even though Rhys would shield me, that fear is potent and pretending is easier, even if it costs me you. I want you to be happy, Az. And I could never make you happy, just like you couldn’t make me happy. You like females…and so do I.”

“Oh,” he breathed, the air leaving him in a rush. Five centuries of questions were suddenly answered. Mor’s lips ghosted over his jaw, feather soft and sweet, just like he’d always imagined. It didn’t lessen the pain, nor did it erase the love he felt for her. But it did explain her avoidance, her caution, her unwillingness to get close.

“You ah…” Fuck, he didn’t know what to say. “You never needed to hide that from me. From us,” he added hastily.

Mor turned to look out at the city they were fast approaching. “We all have our secrets. Right, Az?”

He began to descend, the muscles in his back flexing from the effort to keep himself slow. He wanted to drag this moment out, to stretch the intimacy between them for another moment.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised her, boots touching the cobblestone streets before her own did. Mor slipped from his grip, shaking out her hands nervously until he reached for her face. She didn’t shy away this time, nor did she flinch as she’d done so often in the past. There was a new understanding between them, a different sort of thread. It wasn’t, he supposed, that he was unworthy of her.

Just that she couldn’t love him the way he’d loved her. The thought eased the ache in chest, though only marginally. She’d never be his mate. He could move on if he wanted. Find someone else.

If he wanted.

Brushing his thumb over her cheek, Azriel lowered his face like he’d so often dreamed of, and gave her the same soft kiss against her cheek. “You deserve to be happy,” he whispered so softly only she could hear. “I want that for you.”

Her eyes seemed to burn like the stars above them. Lovely, lively Mor. His Mor, though not how he’d imagined. But his friend, all the same—and the only person she’d entrusted with this secret.

“Thank you, Az. You deserve that, too. I know you’re going to find it.”

He forced a strained smile, dipping his head in agreement. She stepped out of his embrace, turning for the city.

“Join me at Rita’s?” she asked hopefully.

Azriel didn’t look behind him. He still had one night of freedom. He could still drink himself into oblivion.

“Let’s go.”

#gwynriel #i just miss writing a canon compliant fic i think #but ive done a million elucien ones like what is left to say?#time to change tactics #anyway if you see a typo no you dont #MB writing long fics god who IS she?#a dumb bitch thats who

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siriuslydaz3d · 11 months

Text

Attitude || Peter Quill

Summary: Reader is pissed after Quill risks his life earlier in the day.

Warnings: does swearing warrant a swearing?

AN) first time writing for Quill in a very long time. Cross posted on Wattpad! (Wattpad user is Xx_mrsquill_xX)

“You are mad.” Mantis spoke hesitantly, a hand resting gently on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Peter did something to upset you, yes?”

(Y/N) smiled softly raising her head to look Mantis in the eye. “Mad isn't exactly the word I would use. Violently pissed would be a better descriptor, but yeah. Dumbass was being…well his usual dumbass self.”

“You love him.” Mantis noted, antenna glowing bright once again. The girl covered in green sat beside her friend, back resting up against the large tree. “Is that why you’re mad?”

(Y/N) sighed as she looked out at the field they were currently stopped in. Her eyes found Groot, Rocket, and Drax off on their own by a small pile of stones. Nebula was just out of earshot, lying face up in the grass, more than likely enjoying the soft breeze rolling over her. Peter was a small walk down from the hill, occasionally tossing rocks into the pond. The glow of the setting sun making him look more beautiful than before.

“It’s not that, Mantis. I love him, but he put himself in danger today, for me of all people. He’s lucky they didn’t kill him. He’s such an idiot sometimes.” (Y/N) rambled, pulling her knees to her chest. “If anything had happened to him today, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

“You should talk to him.” Mantis suggested, tilting her head to stare (Y/N) down. “Maybe it would help the both of you, because I know he loves you too.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at Mantis, who simply sat and smiled. Her heart raced in her chest as her head whipped back down to Peter. A blush crept its way up her cheeks as she thought about it. In love? The playboy of the galaxy? Silently, she stood and slowly made her way down the hill. She stopped a few feet away from him, nausea hitting her stomach hard.

“It’s not nice to creep up on people, darlin’.” Peter spoke, turning his head to look at her, signature smirk gracing his face. (Y/N)’s face flushed and she rolled her eyes, taking a seat next to him. The pair sat in silence, watching the sky turn a pink-orange color.

“What you did today was stupid.” She spoke, breaking the silence. “I don’t care if I was in danger, you focus on the mission.”

Peter’s head turned to look at her, extending a hand towards hers. She pulled her hand away, setting it in her lap. Swallowing hard, she lifted her gaze to his.

“I did what I had to do, and I would do it again.”

“No, you did what you wanted to do. It was reckless. You focus on the mission, not me.” She huffed, turning her body towards him. “Don’t fucking do that shit again. If I had been hurt and hadn’t been able to cover your ass, you’d be dead.”

Peter groaned and rubbed his face with one of his hands. “Sweetheart, I think you’re being a bit dramatic there. I’ve been doin this thing a lot longer, I can handle my own.”

“And I can’t?” Her voice raised. “Don’t ever call me dramatic for not wanting to bury your dumbass early!”

“I was fine! I could handle it, drop the attitude.”

“No, you don’t get to fucking get to tell me what-”

“I said drop the attitude.” Peter spoke, cutting the girl off. (Y/N) fell silent as she stared at him. “I’m going to say this one more time. I did what I had to do. If you were in danger right this second, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”

“Peter.” (Y/N)’s eyes closed as she fought to calm herself down. “You mean so much to me, t-to everyone, I mean. That’s why I can’t let you do that.”

“That sounded like a confession.” He joked, leaning back on his hands. “Are you trying to tell me somethin’?”

“I-I’m trying to be serious!” She stuttered, head whipping away from him.

“You aren’t denying the confession, sweets.” He hummed, eyes flicking over her obviously flustered frame. “If it makes you feel better, I feel the same way about you. Well, about everyone.”

“You’re such a child.”

“I prefer man child.”

“Peter.”

Silence fell over them again as the sun finished setting. (Y/N) looked back up towards the hill, finding the others gone. The cool night air brushed her skin, making her shift closer to the man beside her. He smiled down at her, sitting up to shrug his jacket off.

“Here, can’t have you getting sick on us.” Peter helped her slip the jacket on. “Looks good on you.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I-I know you did what’s best and I shouldn’t have been ungrateful. You risked your life for me. Thank you.”

Peter’s hand cupped her face, a light blush covered his own. “I would do it again in a heartbeat. I will always be here to protect you, even if you don’t need it. I love you.”

“I love you too, Quill.” She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. She pulled back, tightening the jacket around her body. “Can we continue this discussion on the ship? It’s cold.”

Peter nods, rising to his feet and helping the girl to her own. His hand rested against her lower back as they walked back, once again a peaceful silence filling the night air. A soft ‘love you’ slipping from Peter as he moved his hand, allowing her to board before him.

#peter quill x reader #star lord x reader #mcu x reader #x reader #fanfiction #Peter Quill #Star-Lord #siriuslydaz3d #writer

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topguncortez · 1 year

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The Professor | Chapter 5

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: Derek confronts you about what he saw in Professor Seresin's office. Jake invites you over for an important dinner.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: age gap, mentions of smut, mentions of parental death, mentions of a house fire, power imbalance, blackmail, excessive drinking, phone sex, mutual masturbation.

In the three years you’ve known Derek McAndrew, you never knew him to be this quiet. He was always trying to talk to you, saying anything and everything that would come to his mind. You thought maybe he was really focused on the poem that Jake had assigned for the class to read. But then you looked up from your own document and found him staring you down that you knew the silence wasn’t because he was deep in thought.

“Okay, what is it?” You asked, setting down your document, “What’s with the silence?”

“What silence? I am reading,” Derek shrugged.

“Alright, now that’s bullshit because you’re not reading, you’ve been staring me down. So. . . what is with the silence?” You asked again.

Derek sighed and sat back in his chair and looked around the study room. Lucy had left nearly half an hour ago to go get coffee and snacks for all three of you, knowing that tonight was probably going to be a long night. Derek had the image of you sitting on Professor Seresin’s lap ingrained in his mind all weekend. At first, he didn’t think what he saw was correct. There was no way that someone as dignified as yourself would stoop so low as to fucking your professor. Derek thought maybe it was some other girl who had long beautiful hair and was wearing a ratty gray longhorn sweatshirt and mom jeans. But then Derek thought, who else would wear longhorn apparel in Chestnut Hill, besides Jake Seresin.

You raised your eyebrows and held your hand out for Derek to spill whatever it is he was holding on to.

“Are you fucking our professor?”

“What!?”

Your heart was beating in your ears. You had strict instructions when it came to hooking up with Jake. There was not to be any sort of fornication on campus. Even though his office was on the fourth floor of the English building and his windows were dark, you still didn’t want to take the chance. But you had given in, slightly, last week, allowing a heavy make out session to break out in his office. You sat on his lap, as you ran your fingers through his blonde locks, as his hands roamed your body. It felt nice to sit there, feel his strong arms around you as the two of you would take a small break for him to check an email or you a text, and then went back to tongues clashing.

“That’s fucking crazy. You’ve lost your damn-”

“So it’s true!” Derek shouted and you looked around at the study room you were in. You gave an apologetic smile to a group who was nearby studying. You stood up and walked out the door, slamming it closed, and drawing the blind, before facing Derek.

“Look, I don’t know what the hell it is you think you saw but-”

“You only curse like this when you’re lying,” Derek pointed out, “You’re also clenching your fists, another thing you do when you’re lying.”

You were shaking and crossed your arms over your chest. He was right, those were things you did when you were lying. You hated that Derek knew you like this. Suddenly, you were praying for Lucy or someone to come bursting through the door.

“It’s not what you-”

“It’s not what I think?” Derek scoffed, “You’re going to tell me that it’s not what I fucking think?! I caught you making out with our fucking professor in his office. I have every right to report him and you!”

“Me?!” You exclaimed.

“Yes, you!” Derek yelled and pushed himself up from his seat, “You are cheating! You are using him to get ahead! It’s fucking academic dishonesty! I could report you to Dean Simpson and have your ass kicked out of the fucking program by noon tomorrow!”

You flinched as he yelled, your throat starting to constrict with tears. You hadn’t ever thought what would happen if you got caught. You knew it wouldn’t be good, and there would be rumors and probably an investigation, but you didn’t know that it could go as far as you getting kicked out.

“And how fucking stupid does Seresin have to be to throw away a fucking career for you," Derek spat.

“What do you want?” You said through clenched teeth.

“You.”

“Not fucking happening,” You scoffed, “You think I would want to be with you after what the fuck you just said!”

Derek smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, “You like him, don’t you.”

“I don’t fucking like him,” You muttered, “He’s a fucking sadistic dick who gets off on making his students miserable. I’m his fucking teaching assistant for intro to English.”

“And you suck his dick.”

“You’re just mad that I won’t suck yours.”

“No,” Derek scoffed, “I am mad that you are getting all the fucking insight in how to pass his fucking class. I need this Y/N, I need to pass this fucking class. I can’t have a bad grade, it’ll tank my opportunity for the Berkeley program.”

“And what do you think would happen to me if I fail this class?”

“You don’t have to worry. Your fucking personal essay will save your ass. Just talk about how your parents went up in. . .” Derek stopped talking as he saw the tears starting to run down your face.

“Say it,” You sneered.

“Flames,” He said softly, “Y/N, I-” Derek moved to take a step towards you, but you held your hand up to stop him. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“What do you want? Last fucking time I’m asking,” You said.

“C average, that’s what I need on the last projects and exams to be able to get a C in the class. You do that for me. . . and I won’t tell Dean Simpson about you and Seresin.”

You wanted to vomit. It took everything in you to stop you from running over and slapping the fuck out of Derek McAndrew. But instead you nodded, “You got a deal.”

Jake let out a loud groan as he heard the incessant buzzing of his cell phone from his dresser. One of his sleep methods, which ensured that he got his full eight hours, was to place his phone across the room from himself. It also prevented himself from falling back asleep when his alarm rang. The first time his phone went off, he ignored it, but now it was ringing again, and Jake was pissed. He pushed back the covers and shuffled his way over to his dresser.

“Hello?” He asked, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Jacob!” You slurred over the receiver. Jake furrowed his eyebrows and pulled the phone back, double checking that it was in fact you calling him this late.

“Do you know what time it is?” He grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I know what time it is.”

“Then why. . . Can you hear me?” He furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of loud music in the background, “Are you drunk?”

“If I was, does that mean you’re going to punish me?” You giggled and Jake rolled his eyes.

“Where are you?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“And you didn’t answer mine. Now, address.”

“Sips,” You sighed and leaned against the brick building. You closed your eyes to try and stop the spinning, “Everything is spinning.”

“Don’t move. I’ll be there in five.”

Jake hung up, and quickly slipped on a quarter zip sweatshirt and slid on his tennis shoes. His hair was a mess and he had his glasses on, but he could care less about his appearance right now. The only thing on his mind was getting to you. He knew something had to be wrong if you were calling him drunk on a Tuesday night. Jake was privy to the drinking night shenanigans at the local bars on campus. Tuesday wasn’t usually a night where students went out and got shitfaced. He knew where Sips bar was because it was down the street from Bradley’s.

His green eyes looked up and down the street, looking for you, and frowned as he spotted you sitting on the curb. Your head was buried in your hands and your elbows were resting on your knees. Jake put the car in park and quickly got out, going to your side. You lifted your head up at the sound of footsteps and shot Jake a smile, which quickly disappeared noticing his pissed off expression.

“Hi,” You said to him.

“Let’s go,” Jake said, and held his hand out to you.

“I’m not going with you,” You shook your head, which increased the pounding behind your eyes, “Oh shit.”

“I’m not having this argument with you,” Jake sighed, “It’s nearly 2AM, you’re intoxicated, it's cold and you don’t have anything on your arms,” You looked down at the short sleeves you were wearing, “Y/N please, let me take you home.” You looked up at him and saw the pleading look in his green eyes. You placed your hand in his, and he carefully pulled you up from the curb.

“Whoa,” You stumbled on your feet, but Jake quickly steadied you. He kept an arm around his waist as he walked you to his range rover, opening the door and helping you up. You heard him let out a sharp sigh as he shut the door, and ran a hand through his hair as he walked around to the drivers side. You looked away from him as he climbed in, and started up the car. Jake looked over at you, and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” You said and shook your head, then sniffled.

“Y/N. . . “

“I’m not crying! Just drive!” You snapped and Jake raised his hands in surrender. He started the drive back to your house, as you leaned your head against the window. Jake listened to the soft sobs and sniffles that you let out.

“Why are you crying?” He asked again, this time a bit softer.

“‘Cause you’re mad at me,” You whimpered. Jake let out a soft chuckle at how childlike you sounded at this moment. He glanced over at you, and noticed the glossy, tired look in your eyes.

“I’m not mad,” Jake said, “I’m really not. I’m glad you called me and didn’t try to drive or find your way home. I am, however, upset that you put yourself in such a vulnerable position.”

“God, you sound like my dad.” Jake’s breath caught in his throat at the mention of your late father. He blamed it on the alcohol in your system, stopping you from thinking clearly. “I don’t think he’d like you very much.”

“Because I’m old?”

“Nah. . . longhorn fan,” You looked over at him and scrunched your nose. Jake shook his head with a laugh. The car settled in silence as Jake continued down the streets of Chestnut Hill, going off the memory of the night he took you home. He frowned as he pulled into your driveway, and found the house completely dark. He then looked over at you, and found you asleep. Jake smiled to himself, and didn’t have the heart to wake you up.

Instead, he put the car in park and turned off the ignition. He quietly got out of his side, and walked over to your side. Jake unbuckled you and then easily picked you up in his arms. You stirred for a second, and then settled against his chest, nuzzling your head into his neck.

“Where are your keys?” Jake whispered to you as he walked up to the front door.

“Don’t use them,” You grumbled and Jake rolled his eyes. He opened the door and kicked it closed with his foot, “Second room, on right.”

Jake nodded, even though you couldn’t see him, and walked down to what he assumed was your bedroom. He took in the sight of the various band posters, shoes kicked around, and records laying around the small bedroom. It smelled just like you, the scent of vanilla and a hint of rose petals. Jake laid you down gently on one side of your bed, and pulled the covers back on the other. He took off the converse on your feet and set them at the foot of the bed.

“Are you comfortable?” Jake asked you.

“Pants,” You mumbled and Jake nodded. He carefully took the sweatpants off your legs and tossed them into the overflowing hamper in the corner of the room. He then picked up your body and laid you down on the side with the pulled back covers. Jake made sure to put you on your side, and tucked the blankets in around you.

“Good ni-”

“Stay,” You asked, and grabbed his wrist, “Please?”

“What about your rules?” Jake smiled softly.

“Hall pass. One time,” You shrugged and Jake nodded, “Morning sex cures hangovers.”

“I believe the only real cure for hangovers is time,” Jake kicked off his shoes, and climbed into bed next to you. He laid on top of the covers and you shuffled over to him, laying your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” You whispered.

“No problem,” Jake tucked a hand behind his head. He couldn’t help but pull you in close, and place a kiss on the crown of your head, “Good night, sweetheart.”

The sunlight was bright as it shone through the open blinds of your room. You always made sure that the curtain was drawn, having an eastern facing window. You cursed, and rolled over on your other side, facing the door. It took you a moment as you pushed yourself up on your hands and realized that you were in fact, in your own bed. Then the memories of the fight with Derek and leaving the library in near tears to go out for a drink, which turned into much more than one, filled your mind.

“Oh fuck,” You groaned and looked over at your alarm clock. It was 12 in the afternoon, and you had already missed Jake’s lecture. Jake. He must be the reason you are home. You rubbed your eyes as you climbed out of bed, your feet hitting the cold hard wood as you walked down to the bathroom. Turning the light on, you noticed a pink sticky note on the mirror.

‘Got too drunk last night and needed a ride. P.S. you talk in your sleep. - J’

You rolled your eyes, taking the note down. You did your morning routine, even though it was slightly delayed by the hangover. You took the note back to your room, setting it down on a stack of books on your desk. Your phone had been placed on the charger, probably Jake’s doing and you picked it up, seeing a full screen of notifications, most of which were from Derek.

‘I’m so sorry for what I said last night Y/N’

‘I didn’t mean to bring up your parents, but you have to understand that it’s not fair what you are doing’

‘Please answer me’

‘Where did you go last night? Are you okay?’

‘Well he’s fucking pissed today, so I guess you didn’t suck his dick this morning’

You rolled your eyes and deleted the rest of the messages from Derek. You even contemplated going as far as blocking his phone number, but refrained. His words still played in your mind like an endless loop. You had to be careful with what you do or say around Derek, knowing that he knows about your deal with Professor Seresin.

The next set of messages were from Lucy, promptly freaking out as to why there was an expensive car with a longhorns sticker on the back windshield in your driveway. You made a mental note of making sure you had a conversation with Lucy about everything next. You trust that she won’t have the same reaction as Derek did. But the last message was what shocked you more than Lucy’s.

‘Jake: Text me when you get up so I know you didn’t die of alcohol poisoning’

You smiled and messaged him back, ‘I’m awake. And I don’t talk in my sleep.’

Jake was sitting at his desk looking over Bob’s dissertation about space dust when his phone buzzed. He sighed in relief, thankful to have a break from the reading. He didn’t know shit about space dust, nor did he care, but he knew that Bob wasn’t a gifted writer as Jake was. So, Jake was doing Bob a solid and looked over the paper for him. Jake smiled at his phone as he read your message and replied.

‘Jake: I beg to differ. Started reciting I sing the body electric.’

‘You: What can I say? Good piece of poetry.’ You bit your lip as you leaned against the counter, waiting for your toast to pop up.

‘Then I suggest Desire by Langston Huges as your next read,’ Jake shifted himself at his desk, feeling the growing hard on press against his black boxers.

‘Only if you read it to me’ You squeezed your thighs together as you took a bite of your buttered toast. You watched your screen for a moment seeing the three dots dance for several moments then stop. The time stamp under your message looked back at you like a sore thumb. You quickly started typing an apology to him, when a voice message appeared in your inbox.

Your eyes widened and you looked around the kitchen then pressed play on the message.

“Desire to us-”

“Holy fuck,” You stopped the recording, the sound of his voice was low, thick and deep with his accent and it sent a shiver straight through your core. You quickly ran upstairs, abandoning your toast on the counter and straight to your room. You climbed on your bed, resting your back against the headboard, and slipped your headphones in.

You pressed play, and Jake’s deep voice sounded in your ears.

He took a breath, “Desire to us was like a double death. . . , swift dying of our mingled breath. . ., evaporation of an unknown strange perfume between us quickly. . . in a naked room.”

You felt your pussy clenching around nothing as you listened back to his words of the poem. You weren’t sure why the sound of his voice was turning you on like this. Maybe it was the thought of him sitting in his office alone, wearing some expensive suit, his messy hair and glasses on, cock straining to get out of his trousers. You licked your lips, and let out a strained breath as you clicked on his contact and rang him.

“You’re awake,” His voice flooded through your ears again.

“I am,” You said back. Jake shifted again, his pants had become uncomfortable and he knew you were probably struggling too, “That poem. . . it’s interesting.”

“It is. It’s one of Langston’s most popular. Captures the essence of love making beautifully.”

“Love making, huh? What’s the difference between fucking and love making?”

“The passion,” Jake’s voice sounded breathy as he spoke. You couldn’t help but drift your hand down your body, to your clothed cunt feeling that your panties were soaked, “The slow, languid thrusts. Pushing your bodies into one another in hopes to become one. The feeling of being in your purest form, not a single ounce of embarrassment as you bury yourself deep into the body of your partner.” Jake’s hand ran over the zipper of his trousers, feeling the hardness of his cock.

“Do you prefer love making over fucking?”

“Don’t you?”

“Can’t say I have made love, professor,” Your fingers found themselves dragging your panties down your thighs, leaving you bare from the waist down. You spread your legs and drew slow circles over your clit.

“Then you haven’t been fucked properly,” Jake groaned, and unzipped his trousers. He pulled them down enough to pull his hard cock out, “Then again, it was easy enough to satisfy you, so that tells me that whoever came before me, wasn’t getting you off.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You sighed, you dipped your index finger into your center.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Jake answered and tilted his head back as he squeezed himself, running his hand up and down his shaft.

“Langston Hughes gets you this turned on?” You teased, and added another finger to your cunt, curling them up to touch against the spongy part of your insides.

“Could say the same for you, little one,” Jake’s voice dropped an octave, “Tell me how it feels. I want to know what you do when I’m not around to stuff your little hole with my cock.”

“Feels good,” You grunted, moving your fingers rapidly. You were thankful for putting in your headphones and had your phone sitting next to you. Your other hand came down to circle your clit, which caused a loud moan to leave your lips, “But not enough. My fingers. . . yours are bigger, fill me up more.”

“Fucking Christ,”

“Not quite,” You smirked, remembering the small comeback he had said to you one night.

“Shut up, or I’ll tell you to stop,” Jake’s hand moved faster up his shaft, “Fuck, I wish you were here. I’d have you doing this for me. Better yet, I’d rather be in you, feeling your pussy clench around me. God, you always feel so fucking amazing around me.”

“Jake,” You felt that familiar burning in your stomach as you closed your eyes shut, “Please.”

“You close? I bet you are,” Jake smirked, “So pathetic. Literally get off at the simplest things.”

“Says the man jerking off in his office right now,” You breathed out, but was followed by a moan, “Please, Jake, I need to cum. Can I please?”

“Fuck, yes, cum for me. Let me hear you,” Jake clenched his jaw as he worked himself quicker, hearing your beautiful moans through the receiver. He wasn’t far behind, cumming into his hand, making sure none dripped on to his suit. He held his cock in his hand for a moment, letting himself catch his breath, before reaching for a kleenex.

You laid on your bed, completely spent and feeling the stickiness of your cum between your thighs. It was silent for just a moment, the only sounds heard were the sounds of your spent breathing. Jake had cleaned himself and put his pants back on properly.

“I need to see you,” Jake said, breaking the silence, “Tomorrow night, preferably.”

“Can’t get enough of me can you?” You smirked.

Jake smiled and shook his head, “I guess you can say that but it’s uh. . . for dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, dinner. . . with my mother.”

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axel-skz · 10 months

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SEUNGMIN IN THE BUILDING!

A/N: I wrote this half asleep 😭 I keep changing my idea for the Felix story so I moved up posting Seungmins. I love this one-shot though, it’s so cute. Right, now, song roulette. AA WE GOT ‘WAITING FOR US’! I feel like it’s been too long since I listened to it. Damn.

(No cus why is he so cute? Who allowed him to be this cute? I think he would kill me if I ever actually called him cute.)

You and Seungmin had been together for a couple months now. It was heaven.

You didn’t realise heaven was this sarcastic but it was heaven nonetheless.

You both enjoyed each other’s company a lot so you spent, some would say, too much time together. Jeongin would see you and smirk, always comedically checking the surrounding area to see where Seungmin was.

It was annoying that he would be right about his jokes and Seungmin was always right there.

One day, you both were doing your own things but like, in the same room. Because where else would you be? He was… harassing one of the members over text while watching TV. You were gaming.

You guys hadn’t used pet names at all yet (aside from you calling him Minnie) so what came now… embarrassed you to no end.

‘Baby, can you pass me my drink,’ you stupidly said while being too distracted by a part in your game to notice.

Seungmin, the cute little menace, smirked. Now he has ammunition.

‘Am I tiny? Am I bald?’ He replied, unmoving.

‘What? Is that a riddle or something?’ You paused your game to look at him in confusion.

‘You called me baby, what makes you say that?’ He grinned, resting his head on his palm.

You began to turn more and more red, ‘I did not!’ Yeah, lying seems like a great option right now.

‘Are you… saying my ears are broken? I’m picking up soundwaves from the neighbourhood? Like a bat? ARE YOU SAYING I’M BATMAN?!’ He gasped dramatically.

You stared at him blankly, ‘sometimes I think back to when I asked you out and I wish someone had run me over so I didn’t.’

‘I’m batman apparently so I wouldn’t have let that happen, sugar bear,’ he seemed a little too eager now.

‘Omg, why are you this way?,’ you whined as you covered your face.

‘I don’t know what you mean, honey nugget, I thought this was what we were doing now,’ you glared at him.

‘It slipped out, ok?! Can we forget it please??’

‘Your baby just slipped out? Wow, wierd of you tell me that. Bit Tmi.’

You got up and walked over to him. He had this smug smile on his face. He also looked confused about what you were planning.

You sat next to him then suddenly started tickling him.

He hated that and you knew it. Giggles escaped his mouth and he couldn’t look mad while he was laughing his ass off.

Eventually you stopped, ‘had enough, sugar bear?’

‘Ok, ok! Yes, I’ll stop now,’ he glared at you so you booped his nose and he blushed.

It made you laugh as you got up and went to get your water.

You heard him say something but couldn’t make it out, you poked your head back to look in the living room, ‘what?’

He was blushing like crazy and looking anywhere but you as he spoke, ‘you can call me baby or whatever if you want…’

You smiled and didn’t tease him too much about it, ‘that sounds nice Minnie. You can call me sugar bear or whatever.’

He laughed a little and then continued with whatever he was doing on his phone. The rest of the night passed without a sugar bear or a honey nugget being mentioned :)

Seungmin: You are right. *he’s suddenly stood behind me with an axe in his hand (lol, get it? Axe, Axel, Axe, Axel? Ok yeah, I think you get it)* I would kill you.

We can talk about this… I swear… I only called you cute because… of… umm… hold on, wait… I swear I can think up a good reason…

Seungmin: TIMES UP!

insert high speed chase here

Meanwhile, the boys on the side, sit with popcorn and drinks.

Minho: if he doesn’t catch her, I’ll be very disappointed, I taught him better then that.

Bang chan: you know, this is why I don’t leave him alone with you anymore.

Minho shrugs: fair.

They all start cheering as he slowly catches up but then aw as he falls back again.

YOU GUYS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE MY FRIENDS TOO! WHY AM I ALWAYS IN DANGER WHEN I’M AROUND YOU!

Felix: if you live, I’ll bake you something!

Oh damn, totally worth it.

And suddenly I’m Usain Bolt.

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frazzledsoul · 9 months

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rory and dean, part three: we’re really just fucking kidding ourselves at this point, or why rory does not deserve 99% of the blame for this disaster

So, OG Gilmore Girls fans may recall that Dean Forester’s ill-advised marriage to his rebound girlfriend was actually an attempt to write him off the show. Jared had filmed a pilot for a Young Macgyver show (you can watch most of it online here), but the WB ultimately passed so we (and Rory) were stuck with Dean for another year and a half. One wonders what would have happened if they hadn’t passed. Would we never have heard from Dean again? Would ASP have roped him into a few guest appearances anyway and attempted to do the same storyline? Would they just have gotten Milo to guest star for season four? Would Rory have run away with Jess in that scenario? Who knows.

Anyway, let’s revisit the issue of Dean vs Jess at the end of season four, after Rory rejects Jess’s plea to run away with him

RORY: Anyway, I left the pub, got back to my dorm, and Jess was there. LANE: What did he want? RORY: He wanted me to come away with him. LANE: Oh, my God! What did you say? RORY: I said -- I don't know. It was so weird. He was just... Jess. I mean, he shows up out of no where with this crazy proposal. It was awful. LANE: It doesn't sound awful. RORY: What are you talking about? Jess bailed on me twice. LANE: I know, but how incredibly romantic to have this guy show up out of the blue and want to take you away with him. RORY: When I first met Jess, I thought, "What could be better than this? He's smart, good taste in books and music, so cute." But Jess is great one minute and then the next - you know, as far as I know, I could have said yes, packed my bag, and by the time I got to the car, he would have changed his mind. LANE: It's part of why he's cute. He's unpredictable. RORY: I guess. You know, when I was with Dean, I always knew that no matter what happened, he would be there. LANE: Dean was very dependable. RORY: It was more than that. He's -- well, he was so... um, I was safe, and he was so nice to me. LANE: He really loved you. RORY: I think I really blew it there, you know? I didn't appreciate it. LANE: Every girl has to fall for a bad boy. It's the rule. It's the reason so many accountants eventually get married.

While this fits nicely with my headcanon that Dave eventually became an accountant, that is neither here nor there. I think this is the only time Rory really is shown processing the breakup with Jess until he shows up again in season 6 and how it led her to the Dean disaster, because as schmoopy as she gets about Dean in the twelve hours or so after she sleeps with him, it’s clear that she’s mostly looking for affirmation and stability, and not to get dragged down by feelings she can’t trust or control.

And of course, she had pretty much zero boundaries with Dean prior to this: crying on his shoulder, haranguing him about not going to college, knowing that Lindsay wouldn’t approve of him hanging out with her at night and doing it anyway. Who was going to tell her she shouldn’t do that, after the example her parents set for her over and over? Anyway. Moving on.

So, let’s go over Dean’s seduction technique, which mostly involves him lying his ass off.

DEAN: It's not working with Lindsay. I can't make it work. I've tried. RORY: Are you sure? Because I've heard that the first two years of marriage are the hardest. DEAN: We're not happy. She's not happy, and I can't make her happy. RORY: I can't imagine that. DEAN: It was a mistake, and I know that now. From the very beginning, it wasn't - RORY: Wasn't what? DEAN: It wasn't... RORY: Maybe you could, um, go see a counselor or go away together. DEAN: No, it's just -- it's over. We both feel it. I know we both feel it. RORY: You and Lindsay? DEAN: Yeah, me and Lindsay. RORY: You both feel it's over? DEAN: I tried. We tried. RORY: Well, if it's over, I'm sorry. DEAN: You are? RORY: I'm sorry you're not happy. DEAN: I'll be happy again. Things happen for a reason, right?

Not to completely absolve Rory for all of this as she definitely should have gone on more than Dean’s word, but he absolutely lied to her face after she gave him three chances in a row to come clean. He made sure to follow her to her house, where she would be alone, and manipulated her into having sex with him. Yet somehow Rory is shamed for being the seductress who tempted him into breaking his vows.

Let’s move on to Lorelai, who is actually speaking sense on matters of morality, for once.

LORELAI: But he's married. RORY: You don't understand the situation. LORELAI: Is he still married? RORY: Yes, but - LORELAI: Then I understand the situation. RORY: It's not working out between them. They're not happy. LORELAI: Oh, Rory. RORY: He tried the best he could, but it didn't work. It's over. LORELAI: [ Sighs ] He told you that? RORY: Yes. LORELAI: He told you he's leaving her? RORY: Well - LORELAI: He told you he's moving out, they're getting divorced, he's got a lawyer, they've divided up the monster-truck season tickets? RORY: We didn't get around to discussing everything.

Yeah, Rory, because he lied and told you exactly what he needed to so that you would fuck him. He never actually made any steps towards leaving his wife, and he won’t until he’s forced to,

RORY: He's not a married guy. He's Dean -- my Dean.

LORELAI: He's not your Dean. He's Lindsay's Dean. You're the other woman. RORY: I told you, it's over. LORELAI: It's not over until he's out of the house with the ring off. RORY: He took the ring off. LORELAI: Oh, my God, I don't believe this. RORY: He's in love with me, not Lindsay. LORELAI: Does Lindsay know that? RORY: She's not good for him, okay? She lets him quit school and work himself to death and - LORELAI: No, Rory, uh-uh, you can't be one of those girls who blames the wife for forcing the husband to cheat.

Funny how Lorelai was exactly like that when Christopher was having problems with Sherry and not only slept with him before he had moved out or officially broken up with her, but bragged about it to Sookie, paraded him all around Stars Hollow, and let everyone she knew about their burgeoning relationship, including her parents. It would be strange if that happened to come up again, right?

LORELAI: This is your first time. It's just not the way your first time was supposed to be. RORY: Oh, and how was my first time supposed to be? LORELAI: Well, first of all, it was supposed to be in a retirement home. And secondly, ideally, it was supposed to be with someone single. RORY: My first time was with someone sweet and kind who loves me. LORELAI: I didn't raise you to be like this. I didn't raise you to be the kind of girl who sleeps with someone else's husband. RORY: You slept with dad when he was with Sherry. LORELAI: He wasn't married to Sherry. RORY: He was engaged, and she was pregnant. LORELAI: So, this is all my fault? I set one crappy example for you, and you have no choice but to follow in my footsteps?

They’re basically one of those old anti-drug PSAs. I learned it from watching you!

I mean, it’s not like Lorelai badgered and pressured Rory into staying with Dean when her attention drifted to Jess and constantly argued for his innate superiority over and over and over.....oh wait, she totally did that. It’s not like Lorelai failed to sit Rory down at some point and explain that the reason their hearts got broken over Christopher not breaking up with his girlfriend is because sometimes when you sleep with other people’s boyfriends, they opt not to choose you in the end. Oh, wait, she didn’t do that, either, because he was her Christopher and they’ve always been connected. So she’s completely entitled to not take any responsibility for that situation and try to vandalize the other woman’s bathroom at her baby shower because she was jealous.

So, let’s just say I kind of understand why Rory gives Lorelai the cold shoulder here. Who is she to lecture, given her track record? And we know it’s only going to get worse.

Before we move on from this, though...

RORY: He was my boyfriend first! LORELAI: But you dumped him! You rejected him! You picked someone else!

Okay, technically it was Dean that dumped her (apparently I am the only one who remembers this) but as much as Rory pretends that Dean was the perfect boyfriend, both of them are significantly overidealizing the halcyon days of their early relationship. They were together for three months, and only reconcile when Rory is badgered into saying that she loves him: then it’s a few more months until Jess shows up and Rory loses almost all interest in Dean whatsoever. So the perfect love that they claim to want to relive never really existed.

Okay, let’s move on to how Dean actually treats his wife he claims to Rory he was completely in the process of breaking up with prior to him boinking his ex.

Upon learning that Lindsay had committed the unpardonable sin of answering her husband’s phone:

DEAN: I mean, you know it's my phone, Lindsay. This isn't your phone. I mean, who was it? LINDSAY: I don't know. They hung up. DEAN: So you didn't take a message? LINDSAY: I told you -- they hung up. DEAN: So, great, uh, you're just answering my phone and not taking messages? That's great, Lindsay. LINDSAY: Dean, wh-- DEAN: Taylor calls on this phone, and Tom. I mean, this phone is for business, okay? That's why I have it! LINDSAY: Fine. DEAN: What if Tom called, and he had an extra shift for me tomorrow, huh? I mean he calls to tell me, and you answer, and he thinks maybe he doesn't have the right number, and he hangs up, and then I just lose out, which means we lose out. God, Lindsay, you know, you don't -- you don't get it, do you? I mean, you have absolutely no respect for me at all. That's just obvious. LINDSAY: I don't want to fight. We always fight. I won't answer your phone anymore. I was asleep. I didn't think. I'm sorry, okay?

Jeebus, she completely sounds like a battered wife here. What a prince Dean is, huh? And yeah, Dean completely doesn’t sound like someone who’s trying really hard to cover his tracks.

Let’s move on. Rory overhears Lindsay trying to prepare dinner in the hopes of smoothing things over with Dean, and she finally accepts that Dean has not left his wife and at this point likely has no intentions to. She writes a break-up letter for Lorelai to deliver to him.

LORELAI: It's a letter for you from Rory. DEAN: What happened? Where is she? LORELAI: Just take the letter. DEAN: She went to Europe, right? Miss Patty said she went to Europe. What happened? What's she doing there? Who is she with? LORELAI: Dean. DEAN: When's she getting back? LORELAI: Soon. Just take it. DEAN: Where is she? LORELAI: Europe. DEAN: With who? LORELAI: Her grandmother. Look, take it. DEAN: No. Why did she go? Whose idea was it? LORELAI: That doesn't matter. DEAN: It does.

Dean, are you still married? Then it’s none of your business who Rory is with. Fuck off, sir. You have no right to ask anything of her.

Lindsay finds the letter and finally gives Dean a small taste of what he deserves.

LINDSAY: I hate you, Dean! I hate everything! DEAN: Let's just talk. LINDSAY: I don't want to talk! I don't want you here! DEAN: I'm sorry, okay? LINDSAY: Sorry? DEAN: Yes, because it'll never happen again.

Sure sounds like a guy who really, really wants to leave his marriage and totally didn’t feed Rory a bunch of bullshit to get her to do what he wants.

Lindsay kicks Dean out and her mom and Lorelai have a blowout in the middle of the street while their kids stand by silently like the teenage girls that they still are.

MRS. LISTER: You! You should be ashamed of yourself -- what you did! LORELAI: Just wait. MRS. LISTER: What did she ever do to you, huh? How did she hurt you? Why are you doing this? LORELAI: Theresa, please. Calm down. MRS. LISTER: Calm down? My little girl has to come home and find your heinous letter in Dean's jacket. LORELAI: Listen, we're in the street -- MRS. LISTER: You little monster! LORELAI: Hey! Pull back, lady! MRS. LISTER: There aren't hundreds of other boys in the world? You have to go after her husband? LORELAI: Okay, stop attacking my daughter right now. You're upset, I get it, but you do not do this. MRS. LISTER: She slept with my son-in-law. She broke up a marriage. Are you proud? LORELAI: She did not break up a marriage. MRS. LISTER: What do you know of this? LORELAI: Enough. I know Rory. MRS. LISTER: All I know is that now my Lindsay is devastated, Dean is back with his parents, lives are destroyed, and you and your daughter can go to hell!

Okay, first of all, this was a predictable end result when two teenagers who don’t know each other that well decide to get married at the age of eighteen. Why did their parents, especially Lindsay’s mother encourage this? And what the fuck is up with blaming Rory for the situation completely? No, she shouldn’t have done it, but Dean is the one who decided to marry Lindsay. He’s the one that decided to cheat. He’s the one that decided to lie to both of them. He is not an innocent bystander.

Later on, Rory tries to comfort Dean over what has happened.

DEAN: No. It's not a stupid question. Um...let's see. How do I feel? Actually...I feel like an idiot. RORY: Why? DEAN: Why? Because I was married, …Rory. Married. And I threw it all away for someone who dumped me once and then just bailed on me. RORY: I didn't just bail. I -- DEAN: I hurt everybody. I hurt Lindsay, I hurt her parents, I hurt my parents, and now I'm back at home, and you're in Europe with your grandmother. And what the hell was I thinking? I mean, what am I doing? What's wrong with me?

I mean, the correct answer here is that everything is wrong with you, Dean, but....in the first place, Rory didn’t dump you, second of all, and she “bailed” because you lied and had no intention of leaving your wife in the first place. Take responsibility for your own actions, my man.

Rory and Dean eventually date for a month or so. Dean dumps her again because he realizes they have nothing in common. Does he take any steps towards moving on with his life and taking responsibility for his own mistakes?

DEAN: Your situation is no different from mine. Buddy. LUKE: I've got work to do. DEAN: Then go. They want more than this. Don't you see that? And all you are is this. LUKE: Rory was a kid, Dean. She grew up. She moved on. Accept it. DEAN: You accept it. This town, it's all you are, and it's not enough. She's going to get bored, and you can't take her anywhere. You're here forever. LUKE: It's different. DEAN: It's not different. You and me. Same thing.

Bear in mind this episode takes place in April and Dean dumped Rory the previous November, and yet he’s still bitter, still projecting onto Luke, and still completely blaming Rory for all of his own decisions. He was the one who dumped her the first two times. He was the one that got into a fight with Jess on her behalf. He was the one who proposed to Lindsay to get her to forget about it. He was the one who got married despite his reservations. He was the one who lied to Rory so that she would have sex with him. He was the one who refused to leave his wife. And oh yeah....he was the one who dumped Rory a third time.

That’s the last we see of Dean for eleven years until he shows up in the revival and actually seems emotionally stable for a change.

Somehow Rory gets the brunt of the blame for all of this, but she wasn’t in this alone. I do think she was scared into this by Jess showing up, and if he had any sort of explanation or apology for her either of the times he showed up, she probably wouldn’t have been so vulnerable to the affirmation that Dean offered her. Then she could have had a disappointing first experience with Marty as an alternative.

Which still would have been an improvement over the horror of that Candyman song.

#gilmore girls #meta #anti dean forester #rory gilmore #wow this went on forever

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btsgotjams27 · 9 months

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this is us ~ jjk | 19

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, best friend's younger brother ✨ playlist | ✨ if you haven't read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) ✨ a/n: y'all, we're getting closer and closer to the ending of their story :( :( there's one last chapter and an epilogue T_T i'm sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out. i was stuck on it for the longest time bc ya know, i suuuuck at writing seggsy things, but i hope y'all enjoy it anyway. there were a few words left for me to use, so you'll see them in bold (we also have one more line, but we'll save that until the end hehe. iykyk). and as always, please like, reblog, scream (or not) at me, send me asks. i love it all. i hope you're all doing well.

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 20 ~ ending credits

chapter nineteen ~ together again | wc: 9.7k warnings: we’re back to fluffy, domestic shit 😭 (finally), they love and miss each other so much, again—lots of talking and conversations (with yoongi, yuna, namjoon), bamie is a big boy and goes on a flight, lots of hugs, kisses, touching (what else is new), our TIU babies are being grown ass adults and sharing their feelings (whutttt—who are they? like the character growth? i’m sobbing), references to jk’s weverse lives, mentions of death, language smut warnings: i am sorry (not sorry) for all the seven references, protected sex (they haven’t been with anyone else since they broke up, but they’re being safe, and to our surprise, it’s kook’s suggestion), jk is a lil dommy, use of lube, dirty talk, oral (f. receiving), fingering (from the front and behind—don’t judge me), titty sucking, kissing, groping, overstimulation (i blame his weverse live), one small convo during seggs, a lil pussy slapping, lil spanks, light light light anal play (don’t judge me—he just puts his thumb on it….), jk wants to savor every moment with oc, but she's needy af

~ Three weeks later ~

The Netflix meeting in LA was a bust, but you wouldn’t let it bring you down. At least Kenji was courteous enough to call you and apologize about his friend. He thought he was doing you a favor but hadn’t realized how slimy Zach was.

The brunch tradition continued with Hyunie, Tae, and Yoongi, but this time, Hyunie didn’t want to host and suggested going out. You didn’t mind at all. It would be nice to get out of the house and get some fresh air.

And as usual, the married couple was running late. You greeted Yoongi, taking a seat beside him. His hair had grown a significant amount since you last saw him. It suited him well, you thought.

“Nice ring,” he said, gawking at the diamond-encrusted jewelry on your fourth finger.

You still needed to get used to it—sometimes, you forgot you had it on. “Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, tucking your hand underneath your thigh. This was the first time you saw Yoongi since leaving for LA, and you were sure he would crack down on what happened.

“I’m guessing you didn’t want to live with the ‘what ifs’ and called lover boy.” He smirked, and a light chuckle left his lips. Honestly, he called it—knew you couldn’t resist, was too lovesick over him just to give up so easily.

“Actually, I didn’t call him. We kind of just—found each other.” And you weren’t lying! You didn’t reach out to him, had no idea you’d bump into him.

Yoongi holds the butter knife upright in his hand, pushing the tip into the blush pink napkin. “Found each other, huh?” he said with disbelief laced in his tone as he looked at you.

You hummed in agreement when your eyes met his. He slowly nodded, not believing a word coming out of your mouth.

“What?” you asked, annoyed at your friend.

He shrugged, putting the butter knife down. “I didn’t say anything.”

You deadpanned. “You didn’t have to. Your face said it all.”

Before your LA trip, you were wavering between what to do and ultimately decided not to call Jungkook. It wasn’t your fault you happened to be at the same hotel at the same time. One might call it destiny.

He wanted to humor you. “Okay—what did my face say then?”

You gawked at him. “That you think I’m dumb for going back to someone who cheated on me.”

“Damn, I’m kind of harsh,” he laughed.

You pursed your lips and nudged his shoulder. “Just be happy for me.”

Yoongi scoffed. “I didn’t say anything, and you’re putting words into my mouth.” You wave him off. “Didn’t I tell you that whatever decision you made would be the right one? You obviously chose one way, and the universe chose another.”

You couldn’t help but dramatically gasp, hand on your chest. “Does Min Yoongi believe in destiny? What’ve you done with the grumpy grandpa persona?”

His upper lip raises in annoyance. “He didn’t go anywhere. He’s still here.” He straightens his blueberry milk grandpa-colored cardigan.

“I can’t wait for you to meet him,” you said, sipping your water. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He just grunts. “You’ll like him; you will.” He grunts again, finally breaking into a smile.

“I’m happy for you. I’m glad you guys are back together.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, so I can fucking stop hearing about you complain and be all googly eyes for him all the time.”

You playfully shove him. “Shut up. I did not talk about him that much.”

“You shut up, and yes, you did,” Yoongi spat back, cocking his head.

The two of you continued to bicker, nudging and shoving until Kim Taehyung interrupted, “Yah, yah, yah! What are you two fighting about?”

“Nothing!” The two of you said in unison.

If there was one person’s opinion you came to respect within the last year, it was Yoongi’s. You appreciated that he was always willing to listen, even though you sometimes felt he didn’t want to—regardless, he was still a good friend and did it anyway. You loved how straightforward he was and didn’t have many friends who could be gentle, supportive, and direct. You were happy he had unexpectedly come into your life when you needed someone the most.

The remote had become your best friend these last few days. You didn’t want to start a new drama in case it disappointed you, so you opted for your favorite: Start-Up.

Almost a year later, not having watched it. You had forgotten how much it made you kick your feet, giggle, and cry an ocean of tears. Rewatching these episodes just made you fall more in love with Bae Suzy and Nam Joo-hyuk, and maybe you were feeling all mushy gushy because you and Jungkook rekindled your romance.

The tissue you had in hand had become damp when you wiped away your tears again. It was the fifth one, and you were only halfway through the episode when your phone started buzzing.

When you saw ‘boyfie’ light up on the screen, you wiped any mascara that smudged and fixed your hair before answering. You didn’t want him thinking you were crying because of him.

“Hello?”

The screen is fairly dim from Jungkook’s end. All you could hear was him groaning before he croaked out a ‘hi.’

You giggled, checking the time on your phone. “Isn’t it early for you?”

“Too early,” he replied, carding his hand through his fluffy hair to get a better look at you. He moves the phone closer, narrowing his eyes. “Are you crying? Why are you crying?” He shifted into an upright position against the headboard.

“I’m just watching Start-Up. I promise. No one made me cry.” He had a look of relief on his face before he slumped down onto his pillow. “Kook, go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”

Jungkook shook his head and pouted. “I’m fine, baby. I missed you. That’s why I called.” He slumped further down the bed, pulling the duvet underneath his chin. “I’m pretending this blanket is you.” He nuzzled his face into it.

He missed you that much, huh? Well, you missed him and couldn’t wait to be with him again. You didn’t know how people could have long distance relationships, three weeks was really too long for anyone to be apart.

“You’re such a dummy.”

“Your dummy?” he asks with a close-lipped smile.

You hummed. “My dummy.”

Seeing Jungkook so cozy and snuggled up made you want to do the same. You grabbed a throw blanket that was settled into a basket next to the couch. Your attention went back to Jungkook, who looked like he had fallen asleep. You rolled your eyes because you had told him just to sleep.

“Boyfie?”

Jungkook groaned and inhaled a deep breath before popping up with sleepy eyes. “Yeah, baby?”

You weren’t going to lie. Him calling you baby and you calling him boyfie was making your insides all tangled up. “Go to sleep. Dream some good dreams, okay?”

“My dream is right in front of me. I don’t need to dream.”

You shifted your position, leaning back on a throw pillow, legs spread across the couch. “Were you always this cheesy?”

“Only when I’m with you,” he mumbled into the blanket again as he dozed off.

At this point, you were happy you didn’t have anything lined up for you because your new job was making sure this baby star candy didn’t fall asleep with a candle lit or something. But good thing you also had Bamie on your side. He would surely come to the rescue of his owner and their crazy antics.

“Baby,” he grumbled, looking at his screen.

You answer softly, ‘Yeah’, snuggling yourself into the blanket, the little screen of your boyfie in front of you.

“I put in my two weeks' notice at work and told my landlord about breaking my lease.”

He had discussed moving back, and you felt guilty for him having to do so. It would’ve been easier for you to move out there, granted, LA was the place to live if you wanted more writing opportunities, but he insisted he wanted to be near family and friends.

“I feel bad,” you admit.

Jungkook perks up, shifting against his headboard again. “What? Why? Please don’t feel bad. I want to move back.”

“I know, but I feel like I’m taking you away from your life, and then you have to bring Bamie on such a long flight too, then you’ll have to start over—find a new job, a new place.” You could continue listing many things, but you decided to stop overthinking.

“I’m not worried about finding a new job. I’ll probably talk to my old boss and see if they have anything open for me. And in terms of a new place, I could just stay with you.”

You visibly gulped when he said that. “Like move in with me?”

Jungkook pouts, nervously toying with his lip ring. “Do you not want that?” he asked with apprehension in his voice.

“I, um, I mean, don’t you think my place is too small for Bam?” You have had your apartment for the longest time since graduating college. Even when you were with Kenji and U-jin, you were always at their place because it was bigger, but when you were with Jungkook, it always felt like home, just big enough for the two of you, and you didn’t think Bamie would like how small your place was. He was a big pup and deserved something better than your dinky little apartment.

“We could just get a new place together,” Jungkook suggested nonchalantly, like there was no weight to his words.

You squint your eyes. “Jeon Jungkook, is this your subtle way of asking me to move in with you?”

Jungkook chuckled. “I can’t get anything past you, huh? But yes, it makes sense, right?” He had been sitting on the thought since discussing wanting to move back. It wouldn’t make sense to go back and forth between two apartments.

“I mean, yeah, you were practically living here anyway, and I’d want Bamie to have someplace where he could have more space.” Bamie was a big boy, and you wanted him to be comfortable too.

“So,” Jungkook’s smile grew, “We’re moving in together?”

You stared blankly at your boyfie. “You technically didn’t ask me yet.”

He cleared his throat. “Babe, baby, sweetheart, the love of my life. Will you move in with me?”

Love of his life, hmm? You could get used to him saying that. You sighed. “I don’t know. You’re kind of a messy guy,” you teased.

Jungkook scoffed. “Me? Messy? Have you seen my apartment? It’s spotless—”

“Kook! I’m kidding. I know you’re the cleaning and laundry fairy—and yes, I would love to move in with you.” You knew moving in with Jungkook would mean you wouldn’t be allowed to clean or do your own laundry again. But that was a good trade-off, right?

He giggled, slumping from his sitting position onto his side. “I can’t wait. This’ll be so much fun.”

Although Jungkook had slept at your place almost 24/7 when you were together, you wouldn’t be aware of his late-night cooking and karaoke sessions until much later.

You purse your lips and roll your eyes. “I’ll start looking for places today, so everything will be ready by the time you arrive.”

“Perfect.”

Moving in together was a big step, and you didn’t want to overanalyze this choice. If you and Jungkook were still together, you figured at one point or another, the natural progression in a relationship would be to move in. This decision felt good, it felt right.

You were moving the last of your boxes, ensuring everything would go smoothly before Jungkook and Bamie’s arrival. Your phone ringtone goes off; of course, it’s the boyfie.

“Hey,” you answered. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I, um, I couldn’t sleep, so I called.”

You knew he had an early flight returning to Seoul in a few hours and wondered why he was still up. “Too excited, hmm?” you chuckled.

His soft chuckle made it seem like something else was on his mind. “Something like that.”

“I’m kidding, boyfie. Tell me what’s on your mind,” you asked as you sat on the floor against the empty white wall. The apartment seemed spacious with nothing in it but you and a few boxes.

Jungkook sighed. “This is gonna sound stupid.”

“Come on, you can tell me. We talked about being open, right?”

“Um, remember when you were here, and we were talking, and you said you almost let someone you know in a bathroom?”

You didn’t mean to laugh aloud, but you couldn’t help it. “That’s what’s keeping you up? A distant memory of me almost sleeping with some guy?” You shuddered thinking about that moment–boy, you were really unhappy, weren’t you? But you understood where he was coming from, though. You were sure he was just curious.

“Yeah…”

“You’re adorable,” you teased, shaking your head and wanting to kiss him through the phone.

“Shut it,” he grumbled, burying his face into his duvet.

“You’re so cute. I just wanna pinch your cheeks. I’ll be sure to do so when you get here. My cutie patootie wittle bunny is jealous I almost slept with someone,” you giggled. You always knew Jungkook was the jealous type. He wouldn’t even let Namjoon help you with peeling a perilla leaf–what a weirdo.

“Okay—I’m hanging up now,” he said.

“No, no, no. I’m kidding. What about it?” His little spurt of jealousy was too hard not to joke about.

“Um, have you slept with anyone else since we broke up?”

“No,” you answered quickly. Even if you wanted to, your mind and heart was full of Jeon Jungkook and no one else would even be able to take your mind off him. “He was the closest thing to me sleeping with anyone, but other than that, I haven’t slept with anyone. What about you?”

“Oh, no—you were my last,” he says confidently, like it was a flex.

“Oh—” It’s not like you were expecting him to say Alex, but you were expecting him to say Alex. It only made sense since you thought she was a big reason for him leaving. You had convinced yourself he had run back to her.

“What?” he asked, piquing his interest.

“Oh, I don’t know. I just thought—”

“You just thought I would’ve slept with someone?” There were plenty of opportunities at company functions or when he was out with Jimin and Lana, but it just didn’t feel the same for him. He didn’t want a one night stand. He wanted to be in love, have one person consume every single fiber of his being, overtake him, and if none of them were you, then no one could have him.

You didn’t want to name names and Jungkook already mentioned that Alex left the company. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, have you seen yourself in the mirror?” Obviously, you wanted to jump his bones the moment you saw him in LA, and it was so fucking hard not to tempt him into staying at the hotel with you that night.

He laughed. “Well, I just hope that means I can fuck you when I see you,” he confessed, licking his lips and winking.

“Jeon Jungkook!”

“What? I know you’re thinking the same thing. You’re the one that wanted to tear off my clothes.”

Now you wish you didn’t say anything to him about that. You mumbled something indistinct, not clear enough for him to hear. “Good god—”

“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about my dick in your tight little cunt,” he said in such a confident tone.

You gasped because cocky, bratty Jungkook was back and in full swing. “Okay—goodbye—go to sleep! You have a long day of travel ahead of you!”

Jungkook couldn’t help getting in a few last words. “I can’t wait to put my mouth on your—”

You quickly ended the video call. Your pussy clenched around nothing, just thinking about Jungkook being inside you again, having his lips on your waist, his hands tracing your lines. Fuck. You might just have to break out the vibrator tonight.

Not a moment later, you received a text.

boyfie 11:35 PM you didn’t let me finish…

you 11:35 PM i’ll let you show me when you get here.

you 11:36 PM goodnight! see you soon.

Jungkook gazed at the airport’s glossy marble flooring, staring off into space while holding a bouquet of white and yellow chamomile. His flight landed earlier than expected, and picking up Bam from baggage claim was effortless. He sat in a trance, wanting to pinch himself. Was this real? Was he sitting at Incheon airport waiting for you to pick him up?

He must’ve done something good in his past life, had an angel looking out for him, or after making wishes on shooting stars, his own finally aligned back to you.

How he missed home so much. The familiarity of the city was indelible. No way to remove it from his body–he was made for Seoul.

Bam sat beside Jungkook, waiting patiently, watching people pass them by. He would show excitement whenever Jungkook mentioned your name–his tail wagging, tongue out, and panting. He was just as eager as Jungkook to see you again.

You cursed the car that took your spot even though you had signaled, indicating you were there first, but you wanted to avoid getting into an accident or tussle before picking up Jungkook and Bamie–it was the last thing you wanted.

When you walked through the sliding glass doors and up the escalators, there he was, Jeon Jungkook—the love of your life, the one who made your heart flutter, the one you couldn’t live without. He was here in the flesh, and this wasn’t a dream you’d have to wake up from.

You stood, not moving an inch, wanting to capture this moment. The pair of you had gone through so much to get to where you are, and mistakes were made along the way, but you believed the best was yet to come.

He was sitting, daydreaming like usual, with a bouquet in hand, and when he finally broke out of his daze, he stood, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot in love. Bam stood on all fours looking up at Jungkook, waiting to see if he’d give him the okay to go toward you, but Jungkook never did.

The two of you stood smiling and smitten, enamored, being in this place of a love that was never lost but only put on pause. It was like a scene out of a movie, where the long, lost lovers finally reunite and get their happy ending.

You raced to him, jumping into his arms, making him drop the bouquet. Cupping his face, you placed kisses all over. All the while, Bam barked in excitement at the sight of you.

“Someone’s excited to see me,” he said, tightening his grip around your waist.

“You have no idea.” You leaned down, capturing his lips with yours, pulling him closer, inhaling all of him, wanting to give yourself as an offering, but remembering that you were still in public and it’d have to wait.

Bam whined, looking up with his big doe eyes. Jungkook set you down. You kneeled to him, cupping his cute face. “I didn’t forget about you, Bamie,” you said before he licked your face.

You stood to kiss Jungkook again, wrapping your arms around his neck, not giving two fucks who was around or if anyone was watching. The love of your life was back, and no one could stop you from showing your devotion to him.

“God–I missed you. These last few weeks have been torture.” You’d spend every waking minute thinking about what he was doing, counting down every second until you’d see him again.

Jungkook giggled. “I could get used to this. You telling me how much you love and miss me.” He quite liked the attention and affection.

You suppose you were never the type to show this much adoration in public, but you were ready to stand on top of a building and shout to the entire world how much you loved this man. Be one of those girlfriends who captured every moment of their partner and gushed about them on social media during every made-up romantic holiday.

“I love you,” you whispered, your chin digging into his chest as you looked at him.

He hummed. “I thought I’d never hear that again,” he admitted. Since leaving for LA, he had given up hearing those three words from you.

“You’ll hear it as long as you’ll have me.”

Jungkook pulled back, both hands gently cupping your face, his starry eyes staring into yours. With a soft smile, he uttered, “I want you forever.”

Blindfolds had become a running joke between you, and you couldn’t help but continue the silly tradition. You wanted to surprise Jungkook with the new apartment, and blindfolding him was the only way to keep this secret, right?

Jungkook shuffled down the hallway, his hands out in case he ran into anything, and Bam followed his parents, tilting his head at the curious pair. Bam alarmed Jungkook by barking when he almost ran into the door.

When everyone was through the threshold, you took off his blindfold, ready for him to hopefully love this new place where you’d be creating new memories together.

Jungkook’s jaw dropped, peering around the room—from the floor to the ceiling to the sliding glass door leading to the balcony. He knew you made some good money but not this good.

“How—how did you find this place? It couldn’t have been cheap, baby.” He walked around the living room, picking up a frame that held a photo of you, him, Yuna, and Namjoon at their wedding. It was one of your first photos together as a couple.

“I know someone,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

When you mentioned having to look for a new place to the brunch crew, Yoongi swooped in to save the day because he had a friend who was a realtor, and they happened to have a vacant place ready for move-in.

“Are you sure we can afford this place?” he asked.

You chuckled at his hesitancy. “I got a good deal on it. Don’t worry.” Jungkook narrowed his eyes and huffed. “Come on, let me show you around,” you said, holding your hand.

This place was enticing due to the enclosed balcony, nearby restaurants and shopping, plus the orangeade lavender skies at dusk pretty much sealed the deal for you.

You had set up the perfect little area for Bam, ensuring it would feel like home with cozy new toys and his favorite chews. He didn’t even make a fuss and walked straight into his crate, snuggling up in his soft blanket.

“Well, that was easy,” you tease, thinking it’d be harder for him to adjust. But maybe the jet lag took a toll on the big guy.

“I’m gonna shower. Wash the long day off of me,” Jungkook said, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek. You uttered a soft ‘kay,’ letting him go on his way.

While he was singing away in the shower, enjoying the warm steam from the waterfall shower head, you were running around the bedroom to find the perfect outfit for bed. You didn’t know his plans, but you were ready to fuck him—every hour, every minute, every second for the next seven days. Anything was possible with Jeon Jungkook.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you had finally chosen your outfit. It was minimal and easily discardable. Jungkook opened the bathroom door, ruffling his damp hair with a white towel, beads of water falling onto his honey skin, trailing down the expanse of his broad chest toward that silver piece of jewelry still pierced into his nipple. It took a moment for him to realize you were ogling him.

Your eyes never left his as he walked to you, sitting so prettily on the bed in one of his oversized t-shirts with nothing but lacy panties underneath. Pointing your toes, you swiveled your feet in front of you, pretending to play dumb, your hands leaning back on the bed. “So…”

You feel the softness of the white towel hanging so fucking low on his slutty waist when he knocks into your knees, spreading your legs apart. Your desire grows when you feel the heat radiating off his leg—it pierces straight to your core.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes, letting out a small breath as you leaned into his touch. His fingers softly grazed your cheek, scanning your features, thinking how beautiful you are. “So—what should we do now?” he asked, lifting your chin so you could focus on him.

Your eyes flutter open, peering through your lashes at this drop-dead gorgeous man. With a small grin, you asked, “Mm, I don’t know. What should we do?” Your hands flew to the towel, tugging it so his waist was more visible. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his waist, hoping it would ease his mind, alluding to what you wanted–him.

Jungkook’s hands become entangled in your hair as you gently unravel the towel from his body and trail kisses toward his navel. His heart races, his skin tingling all over his body when your lips lead further to his growing erection.

Just as he thinks you’ll continue, you cease all contact, flashing a smirk as you look at him. “Weren’t you gonna show me what you were gonna put your mouth on?” you teased, licking your lips.

He grinned, leaning down, forcing you to lay on the bed, legs spread as he slotted between them. The warmth from his body radiated as he hovered, his hand gripping your waist and the other propping himself up. He couldn’t wait to explore you again, wondering if you were still ticklish when he kissed your shoulders or if he traced your lines, would your skin create goosebumps from his touch?

“Are you gonna show me or just stare at me all night?”

“Both,” he said, kissing your lips, then your cheek, trailing down the column of your neck. He slid his hand underneath the oversized shirt covering what he wanted, pushing it up to reveal the black lacy panties and your bare chest. You helped him by pulling the shirt over your head, exposing your naked body to his lust-filled eyes. Hands traveling across the expanse of your stomach to your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. His tattooed hand kneads the soft mound, eyes never leaving you.

As he advances to the already wet mess between your legs, your body arches into him. You had been thinking about fucking him all day and even felt tempted to pull out your vibrator, but who fucking needs that when you have Jeon Jungkook to get the job done?

His eyes flickered up, and he wasn’t doing much to you, but he had missed hearing your sweet gasps and whimpers.

The anticipation of what he’s gonna do has you spiraling into a deep abyss, and you’d keep falling if he didn’t bring you back. His lips pressed kisses into your thighs, his hands spreading your legs wider to access that pretty pussy he’d missed so much. If he could, he’d spend hours exploring, teasing, and riling you up, but as much as you needed a release, so did he.

Jungkook spent too many sleepless nights thinking about you. How you’d wrap your legs around him, whine and moan as you rode him, his hands guiding you, spanking you, gripping each and every part of you.

“Kook,” you mewled, almost out of breath. He looked up and hummed. “Do you even remember what I like?” you teased him.

He chuckled. “Let me show you how well I remember.” His finger toyed with the lacy fabric, looping through, pulling it higher to see your pussy peeking through it. “Fuck—I can’t wait to taste this pussy again.” He was practically salivating. His cock is so fucking hard he swears he would come if his mouth touched your lips.

He kissed the spot just above your clit, making your body squirm beneath him. Moving your panties to the side, he spread your folds with his fingers. His wet, warm tongue lay flat, licking from your entrance to your clit. Gently, he sucked on the nub, switching between sucking and licking. Repeating this over and over. Every lick, every suck, every kiss dissolves pleasure into your body.

You could feel your arousal mixed with his saliva dripping down your ass and onto your sheets. You may have to change them out seven days a week if he keeps going like this. Your hands raked through his hair, tugging him closer into your pussy, wanting more of him.

Jungkook pulled away, making you groan at the loss. “Turn around, baby.” You do as he asked, flipping onto your stomach. He admires your backside, drooling at your arousal and his saliva glistening between your legs. His hands tug off the lacy panties, tossing them aside with no care in the world. Now your ass was on full display, ready for him to pounce on and devour like the starved man he is.

He crawls onto the bed, gingerly sitting on your legs. His hands knead and massage the soft flesh of your cheeks. He leans down, kissing your shoulders, making you shudder and whimper as he trails more kisses. His hand reaches underneath you to squeeze your breast, his other hand moving toward your entrance. Jungkook inserts his middle finger, causing a soft groan from you.

“You think you can handle one more?” he whispered into your ear, and you hum in agreement. When he inserts another finger, you muffle your moan into the bed. He moves your hair out of the way. “Mm—I need to hear you, baby.”

“Please,” you begged, trying to rut back onto his fingers. “Please, I need more.”

“I don’t remember you being so needy, baby,” Jungkook teased as he lay beside you. He wanted to watch you come undone because of him. His palm makes a sharp sound against your ass as his fingers curl harder and deeper into your pussy. He’s in knuckle deep, and you’re nothing but a moaning, whining mess. You squeezed your eyes tight, mouth slack, small gasps escaping every time his fingers fuck you harder.

Jungkook removes his fingers from your entrance, gliding back and forth along your slit, just teasing you, wanting you to fucking beg. But he wouldn’t be so mean—he just wanted to take his time with you. Letting every single sensation you had not felt in over a year just wash over you, send you into another plane, another dimension. He wanted your vision to fade to black, let this orgasm be earth-shattering, explosive, making you never forget only he could make you feel this way. No other person would ever come between you again. He’d die before he’d let someone else have you. You were his and his only. He wouldn’t make the mistake of not fighting for you again.

He crawled further toward your ass, pushing your cheeks together so he could slot his hefty dick in between. The sensation makes Jungkook release a guttural groan. He had no fucking idea why he was also teasing himself at this point. He needed to feel his cock being squeezed by your tight walls. Needed to feel like he couldn’t live another day without being inside you.

His leaking tip unexpectedly slips, brushing against your entrance as he’s gliding. The two of you whine in unison at the softest touch. You just want to beg and plead, asking him to fuck you already, but knowing him, he’d tease you even more, prolonging what you really wanted. You’d just have to play along and let him do what he wants—you preferred it anyway.

Jungkook’s tattooed hand guides your waist to shift your position onto your back again. He couldn’t not look at you. Wanted to see you writhe, squirm, fall apart. His fingers are like a magnet, going straight to your pussy. Not one, two, but three fingers inside your cunt, stretching you out, getting you ready for him. You almost think you can’t take it anymore. It’s been too long since you’ve felt him inside you.

He hovers over you again, marking your neck, his free hand fondling your tit, thumb circling your pebbled nipple. All your senses go into overload when he envelopes your other nipple, licking and lapping like there’s no tomorrow. He trails kisses down your center, navel, then to your clit, sucking on it. Switching between circling and making figure 8s, all the while finger fucking you. He looks up, and you’re a mess, just like his saliva dripping down his chin and down to your ass. It’s a lewd show of how much he’s missed your pussy, like it was designed specifically for him.

You clench around his fingers, everything becoming too much for you. Your hands are balling up the sheets as he elicits moan after moan. Lifting your hips off the bed, you rut forward into his hungry mouth. “I’m gonna come.”

Jungkook pulls away and smiles. “I know, baby.” He always knows when you’re close. He could never forget.

Your moan grows louder and louder as he intensifies his speed. The fire pooling in your belly is ready to snap. He had been teasing you for too long, and you couldn’t take it anymore. A surge of waves ripple through your body. You’re quivering, knees shaking, closing in on Jungkook’s head, but he just goes deeper, not stopping. Your pussy is pulsing as he continues to overstimulate you.

You gently push him away, and he tries to go back in. “You thought I was done?” You whine and pout, closing your legs, trying to close off access to you. “I’m not done with you yet,” he said, pulling you toward him. “Just one more baby, you can do it.”

You’re still trying to settle yourself from the first orgasm. You don't know if you can handle another, but you don’t deny him. You’ll just be a crumbling mess throughout the rest of the night.

Jungkook pushes your legs up and buries his head between them again. Your body jolts at the first touch of his lips on your swollen clit. He laps between your folds, and you guide his hand toward your hole, to his surprise. You look down, and his doe eyes are wide, silently asking are you sure? You nod and smile—you know he’s wanted to for the longest time. Reaching the bedside table, you open the drawer handing him a bottle of lube.

He looks between your legs; this is everything he’s wanted. He would live here if he could, set up camp, and never leave. He squeezes a small amount onto his fingers, spreading the lube around your hole. Jungkook’s thumb is pressed lightly onto your hole, causing you to mewl. And as much as he’s wanted this and even dreamt too often about it, maybe he just liked the thought of playing with your hole.

“What’s wrong?” you asked when he stopped. You didn’t think you’d enjoy anything related to anal play, but here you were, relishing in the new sensation. It was definitely something you’d want to explore further with him.

“I, uh, you caught me off guard,” he responds.

You chuckled, never thought you could surprise Jeon Jungkook. “You don’t have to put your finger in, but I like having your thumb against it.”

“You do?”

You hummed. “It feels really good. You can just keep doing that. We can try butt stuff another time after we’ve talked about it more.” There was a look of relief on Jungkook’s face. It was good to know you could still find ways to surprise him.

“I’m sorry,” he confessed.

You shake your head. “Don’t be sorry, boyfie. Come on, I thought you said you weren’t done with me.”

Jungkook grinned, lifting your legs over his shoulders. He dives back in, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He kissed your clit, and then like you wanted, he put his thumb on your hole, causing you to gasp, squeezing your eyes shut at the lightest pressure against it. Your heart pounds obscenely in your chest. Your hands card through his hair, becoming entangled, pushing him further into your pussy.

His warm, wet tongue ravishes this delicacy he’s been missing for over a year. His nose nuzzled into your clit as his tongue delved into your entrance. The combination of his mouth, tongue, nose, and thumb is sending shockwaves to the rest of your body. Your legs are shaking, becoming weaker minute by minute as he continues. You’re intoxicated, dizzy by his devotion to making you collapse.

Jungkook groans against your pussy when he feels your walls contracting. You bite back a moan, knowing you’re close to reaching your peak. You set your legs down when he pulls away, inserting two fingers into your pussy. Saliva is running down his chin, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He has a smug smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you. You’re so delectable. He could spend hours just like this.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he questions while working his way up to you. He’s still knuckling deep in your cunt, wet sounds filling the room. He hovers, leaning down to kiss you. You can taste and smell yourself on him, which pushes you over the edge.

He places his forehead against yours, eyes still open, watching as your hand travels to stimulate your clit, rubbing it in circles to speed along the process. Second orgasms always took a lot longer for you to reach.

Jungkook nuzzles into your neck, mouth latched onto your neck, licking and sucking subtle marks. It’s to show the rest of the world you’re his. All the while, your pussy is swallowing his fingers. You’re on the brink of losing all dignity, all composure. The fire in your belly finds its release as your walls spasm and contract around his fingers. Your legs are trembling and quaking beneath Jungkook, an overwhelming sensation floods from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You’re seeing galaxies overtaking your existence as you finish.

As the pleasure subsides, you try to catch your breath. Jesus Christ, you haven’t even had his dick in you yet, and you’re already wiped out.

Looking over, Jungkook is lying beside you, very pleased with himself for making you come twice already. He turns to you, “Condom?”

You shook your head. “Want you raw.”

Jungkook raised his brow. “Baby,” he trailed off. Of course, considering your last scare and health issues, he wanted to feel all of you. He didn’t want to take any risks because the two of you were horny.

He gazed into your eyes. “Condom,” he said firmly. You groaned and pouted, reaching back into the side table drawer for the box of condoms. He couldn’t help but giggle. He had surely missed your eagerness to tempt him otherwise.

You didn’t think you’d find yourself back with Jungkook. You thought destiny had different plans, but everything that happened last year led you back to him. The two of you were different now—more grown up, actually talking and communicating like adults. Telling each other your wants and needs, and you really need him right now.

You’re watching his every move as he rips off the foil, his biceps flexing while rolling the condom on. “Boyfie, what’s taking so long?”

Jungkook smirks, making his way on all four towards you. He props his arms, hovering over you. He can’t believe how beautiful you are, how much he’s missed your touch, your body, the beautiful sounds you make because of him.

He brings his erect cock to your entrance, brushing against your pussy, making you whimper. He slides up and down between your folds, your arousal coating him generously. He watches as your eyes roll back, your mouth slack, soft whines escaping your sweet mouth. He holds his length, slapping it against your sensitive bud.

“Kook, please,” you plead, opening your eyes. You’ve waited long enough.

He places himself in front of your entrance. Your pussy is soaked and slick, ready to go. He gently pushes in the tip, barely scratching your walls, and he pulls out, repeating this torture until you’re squirming, writhing, pulling the sheets. You have to bite your bottom lip to not let out a sob.

Jungkook leaned down. “Wanna hear you beg for it,” he whispered into your ear before biting on your earlobe. His tip is positioned at your sex, ready to penetrate, but not before he has you whining, pleading, imploring for his dick.

You cupped his face, gazing into those starry doe eyes, pulling him down for a kiss. You don’t feel like begging again. Instead, you’d rather make him melt. “I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

As much as he was so fucking horny at this moment. Those three words would completely destroy him in his most vulnerable state.

“I love you too,” he repeats your words.

He decided enough was enough, and there was nothing else to do but actually fuck you. He watches your face overtaken by pleasure as he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch.

Fuck—you forgot how fucking big he was and how full he made you feel. Jungkook thrusts slowly, looking down as his dick disappears into your soaked cunt. He takes your tit in your mouth again, licking and flicking. Then he props himself onto his knees, shifting you forward, raising your legs to rest on his shoulders so he could penetrate deeper. Your tits shimmy in sync with his thrusts.

Jungkook bites down on his lip. “God, I missed this. Missed you—this pussy—always so fucking tight for me.” He continued rutting into you persistently before he halted.

Your head pops up, your arms propped on the bed. “Is everything okay?” Maybe he hadn’t fucked in so long. You were wearing him out.

He smiled. “Yeah—I just—I’m enjoying this a little too much. I don’t wanna come yet.” He leaned to kiss you.

“Can I be on top?”

He showed off a bunny smile. Low-key, he loves it when you’re on top. “Be my guest.”

He sets your legs down on the bed, and he happily lays against the headboard, his cock softening just a bit. You straddle his legs, hands reaching for his cock, stroking to make him erect. You eased yourself onto him, the stretch filling you up. You began rolling your hips in a fluid motion, slowly and provocatively. You could feel sweat developing behind your knees and on the nape of your neck, but at this point, you didn’t care; you’d fuck him all night if you needed to.

Jungkook props himself up, eyes filled with lust as he watches you riding him. You hold onto his shoulders for leverage, throwing your head back. You continue rolling your hips back and forth, letting every inch of his dick leave your pussy, only to put right back in. He grabs your waist, putting more pressure between you.

“Fuck—that’s good, baby, just like that,” he encouraged as he bit down on his lip, eyes focused on your pussy swallowing his cock. His tattooed hand spanks your ass, the sound reverberating throughout the room and the lewd sounds of hips snapping against each other.

You flashed a smile as your head was lolled back, and he repeated it again. Another hard spank. Your tits are in his full view, and he can’t help but reach for it, pinching the hardened nub. Leaning forward, your lips latch onto his neck, sucking and marking him. His arms wrapped around you as he began to thrust from underneath, his dick almost slipping out from the lust-filled frenzy of his movements.

You’re flush against him, chest to chest, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he rams hastily from below. Your gasps and moans encourage him to reach for his climax.

God, he fucking wishes he could have you raw, but you guys would have to discuss that at a different time. All he wanted at this moment was to find his sweet release.

His hands are gripped tightly onto the soft flesh of your cheeks, making you stroke his dick back and forth. His teeth are digging into his bottom lips, ready to bleed at this point.

“Come for me, Kook,” you urged.

His cheeks are burning, his heart racing beneath you. The muscles in his abdomen tighten, heat spreading under his skin. With one last thrust, he emptied himself into the condom. His chest is heaving. His breath is shattered as he lets out a whispered, fuck.

The two of you smile like complete idiots when you hold yourself up to look at him. You pull yourself off to lay beside him.

He turns to you. “Wanna go again?”

You playfully smack him across the chest. “Don’t you dare come near me.”

“Aw, come on, one more time for me.”

You shook your head. “I swear to God, Jeon Jungkook—you really will be the death of me.”

The night before felt like a fever dream. Your body aches everywhere, even in places you didn’t know existed. But you loved the familiar weight of Jungkook’s tattooed arm draped over you. You definitely didn’t mind that.

You flip over to see the big sleeping baby. His light snores and whistling are music to your ears. His wavy, disheveled hair asks you to run your hands through it. The little freckles on his cheek are like a constellation guide, waiting for your fingers to trace and place kisses.

You lean in, kissing his nose, and he doesn’t budge. You do it again, this time lightly biting it too. He grumbles, removing his arm to tuck under the pillow.

Shifting closer, you wanted to wake him up. “Boyfie,” you whisper, inching forward. With his eyes closed, he hums. “Are you up?” He doesn’t respond and hums again.

Jungkook opted to sleep shirtless and pantless, sporting only his black CK underwear underneath the sheets. Your thumb grazes the silver jewelry pierced into his nipple. No sign of life. Then your hand travels down further, palming his soft dick.

“Boyfie,” you say again, your palm pressing harder, cupping his growing erection. “I know you’re up.”

“Mm, not awake. Still sleeping,” he mumbles into the pillow, trying to hide his smile. “Keep going, though. I won’t stop you. Please wake me up.”

You chuckled softly. “We have to get up and get ready. We’re hanging out with Yuna and Namjoon today.”

Jungkook finally opened his sleepy eyes. “But I am up,” he joked, alluding to the erection poking you.

“You’re such a boy.”

“And? I wouldn’t mind a little wake-me-up,” he said, drawing you near him.

“Nuh-uh. They’ll be here in a bit, wondering why we aren’t answering the door!”

“So? They can wait.” Jungkook kisses your shoulder, trailing down your arm.

“Nope. Nope. Nope,” you protest, pushing him away, slipping from his grasp, making him pout. “We have forever to keep fucking each other.”

“Forever?” He perked up, but you already closed the door to the bathroom.

Having everyone together again felt right. With Jungkook by your side and your best friend across from you, you couldn’t forget Namjoon. He was always the level-headed one, encouraging you when needed.

You half-expected baby Indie to meet her bestie, Bamie, but Yuna left her with her grandmother. So, it was just the four of you, just like old times.

“So, how’s everything?” Yuna asked as she closed the cabinet door storing plates and bowls.

You cleared your throat. “It’s great. We’re all just getting settled and adjusting to living together.” The two of you hadn’t even had 24 hours together in this new place yet. It was hard to really gauge how you and Jungkook were feeling.

Yuna hums. It’s the same tone you recognize when she has something else to say but doesn’t want to risk hurting your feelings.

You sighed. “It’s so easy to tell when you have something on your mind. Just say it, Yuna.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Fine—keep it to yourself. Let it stew all day until you’re ready to burst. I just hope I’m not there for that,” you stated, taking the bowls from her grasp.

She groaned, quickly looking at the guys on the couch with a beer before turning to face you. “Okay, okay. I’m obviously happy that my brother’s back and that you’re together again…”

“But?”

“I just—I love you, and I love my brother, and I just don’t want to see either of you get hurt again,” she finally confessed.

You hold your arms out for a hug, and she slowly walks into your embrace. You squeeze her before she pulls away. “I know. Jungkook and I talked a lot, and I don’t think we will give up so easily. He’s my person, and I will choose him every day, even when it’s hard and I just want to give up. I love him, Yuna, and I’ll continue choosing him until the day I die.”

Yuna’s lips thinned. She was caught in the middle, and seeing both sides almost tore her apart. There wasn’t much she could do but support the both of you as best as she could.

You hug her again. “Don’t worry so much, babe. We’ll be okay. We’re taking it one day at a time. That’s all we can really do right now.”

“It’s good to have you back, man,” Namjoon says, clinking his beer can against Jungkook’s.

“It’s good to be back. I really missed you guys.” He looks back at you and Yuna, hugging and whispering away.

“You getting all settled in?”

“Yeah, we are.” Jungkook scratches Bam’s ears, and he looks up at him with his big doe eyes.

Namjoon looks at the two of you over his shoulder before leaning toward Jungkook. “So, uh, are you guys doing okay?” Jungkook’s eyebrows stitch together in confusion, and he nods. Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief. “I love you guys, but damn, I felt like I went through this rollercoaster of a relationship too. It was pretty brutal.”

Jungkook laughed, rubbing Namjoon’s shoulder. “Hyung, we made it out alive on the other side. There’s nothing to worry about now.”

“You, uh, still thinking about your ‘future’?” Namjoon asked, alluding to their conversation when he and Yuna had their housewarming party.

He smiled and nodded. The only dream he had was a future with you, and he was ready to spend the rest of his days getting to know you again, experiencing new things with you, finding new ways to love you, surprise you, excite you.

After Yuna and Namjoon leave, you and Jungkook relax on the couch with Bam, discussing the married couple.

“Were they acting weird, or was it just me?” Jungkook asked, hooking his arm around your neck and kissing your temple.

You chuckled. “No, they were definitely acting weird. But I get it, though. They’re just looking out for us.”

Jungkook hums. “Do you have any other skeletons in your closet I should know about?” he asked half-jokingly.

Well, there was one thing you hadn’t told him about—your mom. And you can tell that your silence makes him worried. “Erm,” you pulled away to face him. “Just one.” Jungkook intently listens. “You know all that stuff with my mom that happened when we were dating?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, we argued, but then I discovered she’s really not my mom. My dad had an affair early on in their marriage, and then my birth mom died, leaving me with my dad.” A weight was lifted off your shoulder when you expressed what you had been carrying for a long time.

Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he gives you a side hug. “What?” He couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay now,” you said, pulling away and giving him a small smile. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt because a part of it did. You understood that you would never have the kind of relationship with your mother you envisioned. “And, um, do you remember when Yuna was in the hospital, and I asked you to hold me while we were, you know—on a—yeah.”

He hummed. “Don’t remind me,” he lets out a soft chuckle.

“My mom was also in the hospital, and I apologized for my dad cheating on her and that she had to raise me. And I also told her that even though she never saw me as hers, she’ll always be my mom even if she doesn’t want to be a part of my life.”

Jungkook sighed. “Baby, I’m so sorry that you went through that. Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I was going through a lot then, and I was pretty insecure about our relationship, all my health stuff, and mom stuff. It was a lot, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

He lays on your lap, hugging your waist as he looks up at you. “Promise you won’t keep things from me. No matter how hard it is for you to tell me. Just—let’s just be open with one another, okay?”

You hummed in agreement. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“And what about you, huh? Any other psycho ex-girlfriends I should know about?” you said flatly.

Jungkook laughed and shook his head. “No more psycho ex-girlfriends, but there is a psycho ex-boyfriend.” You rolled your eyes, hitting his arm. “Kidding!”

Your first full day with Jungkook and Bam was perfect. You lounged around, unpacked, played with Bam, ate, fucked again, and just like that—nighttime came.

You lay facing Jungkook, finding it difficult to believe he was in front of you. “Pinch me,” you say, and Jungkook pinches your nipple. “Ow–don’t pinch me there,” you scowl, rubbing your pebbled nipple.

“You didn’t tell me where to pinch you,” he retorts.

You rolled your eyes. “Fair–”

“Why do I need to pinch you?”

You tuck your hands underneath your cheek. “Because I don’t want this to be a dream.”

Jungkook flashes a small smile, moving a stray hair out of the way. “You’re not dreaming, baby. I promise.”

“But what if I am? And there’s not a strong enough kick to wake me up? What if my totem never falls, and I really am dreaming all of this?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you referring to Inception right now?” He laughs, and you push him away.

“I’m being serious, Jungkook.”

His smile falters, and he’s in serious mode now. He shifts closer, draping his arm over you, holding the small of your back. “I know what you mean. We’ve been through a lot, and if you look at where we’ve been and where we are now, it’s pretty remarkable that we survived through it all. But trust me, baby, this–us–it’s real.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just in my head,” you say, resting your hand on his cheek and kissing his lips. “You’re here. Bamie’s here. I’m here,” you chuckle. What else did you really need?

Jungkook gazes into your eyes, ensuring you’re okay. He snuggles in closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“Boyfie?” He hums. “Where do you see us in five years?”

If there was one thing you really did want, you needed to talk to him about it first.

“Five years is a long time from now.”

“Yeah, I know, but I just want us to be on the same page. I don’t want us heading in different directions, hoping we can read each other’s mind or something,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles, finding you so fucking cute. He withdraws from the embrace, looking at you. “This is what I want to say: I want to focus on the present and worry about the future later. But you want to hear this: I see us getting married, and maybe Bamie has a friend he can play with.”

He didn’t mention the one thing that you were thinking of. You assumed he was avoiding the elephant in the room. “What about kids?”

He takes a deep breath. “Well, I know we have some difficult circumstances with that, but I’d be okay if we didn’t have any. Why? What are you thinking?”

Ever since you got back from LA, you have been doing a lot of research for fertility treatments, along with speaking to your doctor. And who knows, with the ways technology has advanced these days, there could be a possibility of kids in the future. You understood that the road ahead would be tough, but you knew that with Jungkook by yourself, you could weather through anything.

“I, um, I’ve been thinking about starting fertility treatments. I know it’s not a given, and I don’t want to put too much hope into it because who knows if we can even get pregnant,” you stopped because it sounded ridiculous when spoken aloud. “Ugh—it’s dumb and wishful thinking, isn’t it—”

Jungkook holds a finger to your mouth, shushing you. “Baby, if you want this, then I want it too. I’ll do whatever I can to support you. You’re not alone in this, okay?”

You smile. “Thanks, that means a lot, and I know I’m just overthinking again.”

“We’re doing this together, remember?”

“Together,” you lean over to kiss him. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Jungkook had this hold on the thing in your chest, and you wouldn’t wanna settle for anyone less. He really had become your place of comfort, ease, and stillness. It felt so easy to slip back into your old routine. You could do this every hour, every minute, every second, seven days a week. Night after night, you just wanted to love him, right.

next ✨ 20 ~ ending credits

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